Page 38 of Hard Hat Hottie

What does one say to that?Yes, as a matter of fact, you are. I was enjoying my date with me, myself, and I, thank you very much.But I’ve had enough public confrontation this week. So, I simply sip my wine and give him a polite smile.

“I’m Bill.” He holds out his hand.

Ugh. I’m annoyed.However, I decide to introduce myself with my given name, not my attitude. “Harlow.”

“Beautiful.”

My name or me? Don’t care. Everything about this guy screams cheesy pick-up guy. And I should know. I’ve earned an honorary Doctorate.

“Are you from around here?” This guy really needs to work on his game. He’s not a bad-looking man. He’s probably about five or six years older than I am. He’s tall, attractive, with a nice smile. If I hadn’t just had the week from hell, he might look more like a catch. Heck, maybe even a catch and release. Yet today, this fisherwoman is going to keep her line safely in her boat. I don’t want to know if he’s biting.

“No.” I don’t want to come off as being rude. But I didn’t ask him to join me.

“Me either. But it’s a nice place.”

Ugh. I feel like I’m being a raving bitch right now.Maybe the guy’s just lonely and needs someone to talk to. I mean, I get it.

Bill gives the bartender his order before proceeding to deliver his resume as if he’s applying for a job. Maybe I’ve just been listening to too much of Shania lately, but the chorus of “That Don’t Impress Me Much”keeps playing on repeat as I nibble my food and try not to roll my eyes when Bill’s looking directly at me.

Is it too late to wave that host back over and ask if I can sit at that pretty little table by the window? And I’d had such high hopes for this evening a few moments ago.

There’s a haughty tone about him when he rattles on that’s rubbing me the wrong way. I may only be a hard-working nurse and single mom of two, but I’ve been around plenty of rich doctors and surgeons with similar attitudes. Ones who act as if you should fall at their feet, given their impressive pedigree. They spout off their accomplishments like it’s a sales pitch, and you’d be crazy not to buy. But it doesn’t matter whether they are blue blood or blue collar, they all have the potential to be a complete douchenozzle. And I’m so done with it all.

Until someone larger than life can sweep me off of my feet with one hand tied behind his back, I’m sticking with my battery-operated boyfriend.

“Hi. I hate to interrupt. But I wondered if I could ask the lovely lady for a dance?”

Freezing with my glass of wine halfway to my lips, I almost thank the universe for delivering an escape from Bill and his ramblings until a thought comes to mind.This guy is bold.Doesn’t give two shits if Bill and I are together and asks for a dance anyway. I mean, to anyone else, this probably looks like a date. Suddenly, I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or annoyed that another man is trying to impose upon my evening.

Putting my glass down, I narrow my eyes and turn to the gentleman in question, prepared to give him a piece of my mind. This night is starting to push my buttons.

Until his beautiful green eyes connect with mine.

He may have one arm tied in a sling instead of behind his back, but there’s no masking my delight. “I’d love to,” I reply with gratitude at his hutzpah.

Draping my arm over his free one, I step in beside Harrison as he guides me to the dance floor. He’s dressed in a navy suit, a crisp white button down beneath. Hell, the only thing that could rival him shirtless is being dressed like this. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll still be dreaming of him shirtless.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispers into my ear as we sway to the music.

Looking up into his beautiful face, I reply, “Same.”

We move slowly to the music, swaying to and fro, our eyes never straying from the other until a big smile crosses his face. “Hi.”

I giggle. “Hi.”

“You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” I laugh. “So do you. I like this look on you.” I rub my fingertips over the lapel of his suit jacket.

“As opposed to sweaty, construction Harry.”

“No.” I may have hurt my tongue answering so quickly.

Harrison’s brow arches toward his forehead in confusion.

“Okay, I guess it’s time to make a confession of my own. You weren’t the only one who’d come up with a nickname.”

“What?” He grins in anticipation, the little lines crinkling by his eyes are making my lower belly flip. “You gavemea nickname?”

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