Page 4 of Not Quite Perfect

“As if divorcing my mom and marrying his secretary wasn’t bad enough, whensheended up divorcing him, he married my girlfriend.”

Victoria gasped. “He didn’t!”

“He did,” I answered, leading her to a bench that looked out over the water. “When I was in grad school, there was this girl I was really into. I invited her out here for the weekend shortly after we’d started dating. My dad made a surprise visit, but then he wouldn’t leave. Three months later, they eloped.”

“Oh my god.” Her body shook against mine, and I knew she was trying to hold in her laughter.

“It’s okay, you can laugh.”

“No. That’s terrible. Your dad stole your girlfriend. This is not a laughing matter.” Her shoulders continued to tremble as she attempted to keep a straight face.

I smiled and wrapped my arm around her back. Pulling her in against me, I continued, “After wife number three, I stopped paying attention. There were two more after Jenny; each one younger than the previous. The last one could have been my younger sister.”

“That must have been rough.” She rested her head against my shoulder. “At least my mom’s husbands have all been relatively old. I don’t know what I would have done if she’d brought home someone my own age.”

“It is what it is, I guess. The truth is, I’ve stopped caring. I don’t even know wife number six’s name, but if history is anything to go by, she should be graduating from elementary school any day now.”

Victoria chuckled. “I hope it’s not too bad.”

“I’ll manage somehow. Likely with a bottle of whiskey and an expensive cigar, but I’ll endeavor to get through it.”

“I—” She was interrupted when her stomach loudly protested its lack of food. Her cheeks colored a becoming shade of pink as she flattened her palm against her abdomen, casting her eyes toward the restaurant. “Ugh, how embarrassing.”

The wait was supposed to have been an hour, but we were quickly approaching the forty-five-minute mark and the five parties ahead of us hadn’t been seated yet. “My guess is we’re looking at another forty-five minutes, minimum.”

When her stomach protested again, Victoria looked longingly at a couple walking past, a doggy bag clenched tight in the man’s fist. “I think you’re right,” she replied with a defeated sigh.

This night wasnotturning out how I’d imagined, but I wasn’t willing to throw in the towel just yet. Since I hadn’t planned on going out for dinner tonight, I’d stopped off at the store on my way home and loaded up on provisions. I didn’t claim to be a great cook, but I could boil pasta and I had a few bottles of wine I’d been saving for a special occasion.

I squeezed her hand, and she dragged her eyes back to me. “I really want to spend more time with you though. If it doesn’t make me sound like too much of a creeper, I have food back at my place. I’m no Mario Batali, but—”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound that made my stomach—and other parts—clench with longing. I’d only known her for a few hours, but already I was under her spell.

“I should hope not, what with the sexual harassment claims and all.”

“Shit.” I winced. “Gordon Ramsay?”

She nodded. “I think he’s scandal-free.”

“Okay then. I’m no Gordon Ramsay, but I can make a pretty mean pasta dish. My place is about twenty minutes from here, if you don’t mind me cooking for us instead?”

Victoria stared at me for a few beats, her eyes flicking between mine with uncertainty.

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew how hard it was for women to know who they could trust. But it wasn’t as if I could say, “Hey, I know we just met, but I promise I’m not a serial killer. Also, even though I’d really like to sleep with you tonight, I won’t touch you unless you invite me to.”

I loved women, but I never wanted to be the guy who made inappropriate advances on someone who wasn’t interested.

I dropped Victoria’s hand and slid a foot or so away along the bench, making sure she didn’t feel crowded as she made her decision. “No pressure. Just decent food, good wine, and hopefully some great conversation.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled back at me. “I’d like that. A lot.”

Three

Victoria

“It’s peaceful out here,”I observed as we strolled up the steps of David’s porch, complete with a swing at the other end.

His house was tucked back from the road with no neighbors in sight. The moon was high, illuminating a slightly overgrown front lawn, while crickets chirped in the hydrangea bushes ringing the house’s perimeter.

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