Page 12 of Second Down Scrooge

And aside from that, I want to feel valued and cherished, and I want someone who isn’t going to abandon me the way my ex did. I can’t afford to be abandoned at this point because it isn’t just me anymore. I have a little one to think about, too, and it’s a new armor I wear as I head out on my first date with someone other than Austin since I gave birth.

It feels…weird.

It’s strange to be going on a blind date, but Max is picking me up here soon, and I’m not as excited as I wish I was. I sort of feel like I’m going to throw up, to be honest, and I think vodka would really help with that.

I sneak over to my small walk-in pantry since Austin is occupied with Mia, and I grab the bottle of Tito’s. I unscrew the cap and help myself to a swig.

“Can I have some?” a deep voice behind me asks, and I spin around guiltily as I practically choke on the vodka.

He chuckles when he sees my wide eyes, and I hand the bottle over.

He takes the cap from my other hand and screws it back on without taking a sip. “I was just kidding since I’m with Mia tonight. I’m more of a whiskey drinker, anyway.” He sets the bottle on the shelf. “Why are you sneaking shots of vodka in the pantry?”

He doesn’t move, and the pantry is pretty small for one person. There isn’t much space between us, and I can smell his aftershave. It’s the same woodsy scent that drew me in the first time we met, and somehow it makes me feel at home.

So much so that I’ve taken to stockpiling the mahogany-teakwood-scented candles from Bath and Body Works because they remind me of him.

I tell myself it’s for Mia, so she can smell her daddy even when he’s not here. But the truth is that it’s for me, too.

“I’m nervous,” I admit.

“About your date? You shouldn’t be. Whoever this douche is…he’s lucky you’re giving him the time of day.”

Douche? We don’t know if he’s a douche or not yet, but the doorbell rings, so I guess that means we’re about to find out.

I clear my throat. “Excuse me,” I say, nodding toward the doorway of the pantry so he’ll let me out.

He blocks my path another few seconds. “Do I have to?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I glance up, and our eyes lock. I can’t make myself nod or say yes or even form a coherent thought when he’s looking at me like that, so we just face off until he finally presses his lips together and moves out of the way.

Butdamn. That heat between us?

Hot. As. Hell.

Chapter 7: Kelly Kaplan

Stop Saying Cockshot

Three Weeks Until Christmas

I open the door and find my date standing there.

“Max?” I ask the cute guy standing in my doorway, and he nods.

He’s about my age and a little on the more studious side in his sweater over a buttoned-up shirt and black frames resting on his nose—especially in a side-by-side comparison with Austin, the pro athlete. “You must be Kelly. Let me start by apologizing for my grandmother.”

I laugh. “No need to. Come on in, and I’ll just grab my purse.”

He stands in the entryway as I rush through my small house to kiss Mia on the head. “Bye, Miamiga.”

“Don’t I get one?” Austin asks, and I purse my lips and give him a look as I grab my handbag off the counter.

“I won’t be late,” I say quietly.

“Don’t go at all,” he whispers, and he grabs my hand.

My chest tightens, and I can’t help but wonderwhyI agreed to this date. My first instinct was to say no, but I wanted to send Austin the message that I’m moving on.

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