Page 62 of Rogue's Path
Which wouldn’t be the best idea with all the food in my belly.
What would it have been like if Rogue showed up at the café and asked me instead? Would he have taken my hand in his? Nah, he’s not one of those cutesy men. He would have slung an arm over me and pressed me tight to his side as we walked together down the street.
Would he be a temple kiss kind of guy? He seems that way.
They’d be firm, not soft...
“Earth to Dylan.”
Huh? “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“There’s only one guy by the dairy barn, and he’s um…large.” Cordelia’s eyes almost pop out of her head.
Large…I follow her gaze. That’s Bear, but without all his wild hair. I kind of miss the free spirit. Somber, well-dressed Bear…it’s not him. Was he trying to be someone else to impress me? Because I liked him the way he was. Not liked him liked him. But liked him as a person.
Cordelia was right. In his head, this is definitely a date.
Ruh roh.
How am I going to let him down gently?
Why am I not even thinking about dating the sweet guy in front of me? Unlike Rogue, he did all the right things. It’s not a kiss and run and then totally disappear without a word. Don’t I want a nice guy? Everyone should want a nice guy.
Not the guy who destroys your mind with a single kiss. I could at least give Bear a try…Maybe he’s a good kisser, too.
That’s it. I’ll have a kissing contest. The best kisser wins a date with me.
My life is so not becoming a romcom.
Which one is going to turn into the sexy billionaire who sweeps me off my feet onto his private jet to travel the world and cover me in diamonds?
What utter drivel. That never happens.
Though if I had to guess, it would be Taylor.
The only thing I’d end up covered in with Rogue is leather.
Not happening. There’s no way I’m spending the summer sweating to death. Would it squeak when I walked? Or would the rivers of funk roll down my legs and into my flip-flops? They probably don’t even wear flip-flops. It should be a law that you have to wear them in the summer.
Nope. I’m not cut out to be a biker chick or whatever they are called.
And there’s no way I’m ever letting a guy call me his old lady.
Focus, you have a non-date sort of date standing right in front of you. “Hey, Bear. You made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” His eyes aren’t on me.
Bear is staring at Cordelia like he’s never seen a woman before. Interesting. “Bear, this is the friend I was telling you about, Cordelia.”
“You’re really the cake lady?”
He might not have wanted to shave because when his mouth falls open due to shock, we’ll actually be able to tell now.
“I don’t know about that. But I make cakes for a few places around town.”
“Oh, you’re definitely the cake lady.” He steps forward, moving until he’s between us. “Your cannoli cake is amazing. Have you considered adding pistachios to it?”
“I have. I even dipped some pistachios in chocolate…”
