Page 3 of Tempting the Tender Guy: Imperfect Heroes

Before I can deny it. Or at least the fact that I wasn’t pouting over what she thinks I am, Yvonne continues. “Yes, I have talked to Nana. So you can stick your lip back in and behave.”

Hope surges within me and it’s only the nail tech’s steely grip on my hand that keeps me in my seat instead of jumping around doing a happy dance. I’ve tried dating apps, being set up byfriends, and even the ill-fated workplace hookup. All have ended miserably.

But this is bound to work.

I mean, look at my bestie. Her amazing Nana, along with her group of senior friends, got Yvonne in with a guy she used to crush on as a teen.

Talk about wild.

And... not to be rude, and not like it’s really important… Shhhh… actually, it kinda is. But Henry’s loaded! And handsome, and okay, he also happens to be insanely nice. Far too nice, but that’s another story.

Either way, score one for Yvonne’s Nana and Nana’s friends!

Plus, to really sweeten the deal, I find out that this amazing bit of matchmaking they did for Yvonne and Henry isn’t the first one that this group of grannies has pulled off. Oh no, they have hooked others up, and everyone is deliriously in love.

I want that.

I want that so badly that it’s hard not to be jealous at times as I watch people all around me fall in love, get married, have babies, and basically get everything that I don’t have.

Sure love might not change my life. I’ll still have my crappy job, my itty bitty apartment that eats up half my paycheck every month, and the beater car that my older sister generously gave me when she upgraded.

The thing is, those things won’t matter as much because I’ll have someone to share the ups and downs with. Someone to laugh with me over the dumb things my manager does. A shoulder to lean on when I’m having a rough day and someone to celebrate all the great little moments in life with.

Friends are wonderful, as is family, but I want a man that’s my other half. Someone who gets me. I don’t think that’s too much to want.

“Who is he?” I demand.

Yvonne’s big brown eyes roll. “These things take time, Sadie. You need to have patience.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” I snap.

Immediately, I feel like a jerk. Like me, her love life hasn’t been that rosy either. Before Henry came along, she was crashing on my couch because her ex locked her out of their shared apartment. She went from a major loser to the perfect guy. Well, perfect for her. I need a bit more excitement than a guy like Henry can offer.

“Sorry, Vonnie.”

Shrugging her shoulders, my bestie gives me a sympathetic look. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. I do. You want your happily ever after, too.”

Morosely, I nod.

“Listen, I just got back and haven’t even talked to Nana since before I left. I’ll call her tomorrow, and I bet she’ll have your guy all set for you.” Her eyes gleam as she talks, and it makes me wonder what Vonnie is keeping from me.

We’ve been friends for ages, at least it feels like that, so I normally can tell when she’s withholding something. I let it go for now, simply because I’m sure I’ll find out whatever it is soon, anyway. Vonnie can’t keep secrets from me anymore than I can keep one from her.

“Thanks again,” I say, reaching over with my free hand to pat at her arm.

My tech hisses in displeasure and I know even a big tip might not be enough to soothe things over.

Yvonne smiles my way. “Hey, what are friends for, right? Do you have time for lunch? What time do you need to be at work?”

Technically, I’m supposed to be at work now. I blew it off to spend time with my bestie, who I haven’t seen in forever. While it’s nice to have my couch back the apartment feels lonely without her there. My place is small and the two of uswere constantly in each other’s way and bringing a guy home was not happening due to close quarters. Still, now the small apartment feels empty and lonely. I could get some fish to keep me company, I suppose, since the landlord has a strict no pets policy. It’s not the same as having another person around, though.

“Yeah, I have time for lunch. My schedule is wide open.” And it’s true. Why bother showing up late when it’s easier just to call off altogether?

Later at home, I kick off my shoes and plop down on my lumpy couch to scroll through my phone. Catching a glimpse of my latest tattoo, I smile. It’s a little cookie on the inner wrist of my left hand and it’s adorable. It’s a chocolate chip cookie and has cat ears and whiskers. I wanted something to honor my childhood pet, Cookie, but didn’t want to go with the usual paw print or cat silhouette. Mack, the tattoo artist, listened to me and immediately began to sketch it out. When I saw his design, I knew it was perfect. The man is incredibly gifted with his vision and his talent.

Mack also happens to be ruggedly handsome, with a deep and gentle voice that does crazy things to my insides. The first time I had him do a tattoo for me, I was tongue-tied the entire session. Which for me is saying a lot because I have a habit of being unable to stop talking. Diarrhea of the mouth, my mom calls it. Which is a gross and, I guess, fitting description.

I had no idea if the shop had a policy about not dating clients and was too scared to ask. But I was determined because I was crazy interested. Sadly, it seemed the more I flirted using body language, the quieter Mack became.

---