Page 20 of The One I Want
“Just snapping you back to reality,” he says with a smug smirk on his face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means since the new girl in town walked in the bar tonight you’ve been…well, I don’t know where, but it’s definitely not here.”
I don’t respond to Shane but instead take another glance over at Betsy. For some reason I can’t take my eyes off of her. Yes, she’s beautiful. Any man in here, and probably most of the women, would admit that. Her dark blonde hair is the perfect complement for her tanned skin. The bar is dark, but I swear when she smiles it lights up the room.
My mind drifts back to the night when she was playing with the kids. When I pulled in, I immediately saw her on the porch with Emerson. It struck me as odd because Emerson isn’t my most social kid. That distinction goes to Magnolia. But for those few seconds, I watched the two of them talk like they were best friends. I don’t know what Emerson was saying, but the way Betsy was smiling at her was not only beautiful but genuine. On the drive home that night, I was expecting Magnolia, and even Hank, to go on and on about Betsy. To my surprise it was Emerson. She just kept talking about how Betsy wanted to learn things from her and wondered if she’d like to borrow one of her favorite books.
The younger kids have taken the split as well as they could. They ask for their mom. Each has spent a few nights in bed with me, wondering why Mommy left. I was ready for that. I knew it was going to come. But Emerson? She’s my little steel trap. Hell, the nurses had to force her to cry when she was born. I know she’s been trying to be strong for me and her siblings. That’s just who she is. One day, and I don’t know when, she’s going to snap, and the tears are going to flow. But until then, I’m just excited she’s showing some personality. Because she doesn’t let many people see it, but those she lets in get to know the best kid in the world.
“There he goes again.”
This time I hear Shane and don’t need a slap on the head to break my gaze. “Fine. You caught me. Happy?”
Shane’s smug smirk is still there. “I never pegged you as one to go for the younger women. Especially before the divorce is even finalized. But hey, good for you, man.”
“I’m not going after her,” I defend. “She’s renting the house next to my parents. We’ve met a few times. She’s been nice to the kids. That’s it.”
“Really?” Oliver asks. “That’s it? Nothing else?”
“Really,” I say as firmly as possible.
“Prove it,” Shane says, nodding toward the bar. “Go talk to her. Let Oliver and I be the judge if she’s really just your parents’ tenant who is nice to your kids. Or if you, Mr. Taylor, are floating on a river called denial.”
“Fine,” I say, standing up, grabbing my beer. I think I hear the two of them mumble something about how I have no clue, but I choose to ignore them.
They have no idea what they’re talking about.
I’m not interested in Betsy. A man can think a woman is attractive without immediately wanting to take her to bed. I’ve been a professional football player for twelve years. I’ve spent plenty of nights in bars and clubs where many beautiful women tried to hit on me. Some didn’t know I was married. Some didn’t care. The result was all the same—I could appreciate their beauty while also rejecting their advances.
Was I looking at her tonight? Yes. But it didn’t mean anything. I looked at a lot of people tonight. Hell, I hugged Amelia. That doesn’t mean I want to sleep with her. And even if I was ready to date—which I’m absolutely not—Betsy would be the last person I’d go after. For one, she’s my parents’ tenant and neighbor. That would just be awkward. And second, she’s six years younger than me. When I was in college she was still in middle school. No thank you.
So if these two assholes want to see how unaffected I am by her, let them. Hell, I wish I could put money on this.
As I approach the bar, I see that she has taken up a conversation with Porter. But not just any conversation. I don’t know if Betsy realizes this, but Porter is about to turn on the charm. He’s already done his signature lean against the bar, throw a towel over his shoulder move. Even without living here for years I know that’s step one for him.
Sorry, cousin, I’m going to have to cock block you this time. I have a point to prove.
“Don’t believe a word he says.”
Porter shoots me a look as Betsy slowly turns her head toward me. “Oh really?”
“Really,” I say, taking a final swig of my beer and putting it on the bar. “I’ve known this man my whole life. He has stories for days. Some of them are even true.”
I look at Porter, who is shooting daggers at me right now. Oh well. I’m sure he’ll get over it. “Can I get another beer, and whatever the lady wants?”
“Gin and tonic.”
Porter sends me another “fuck you” look before going to make our drinks.
“I didn’t take you for a gin girl,” I say.
She shrugs. “What did I say about assuming? Have you learned nothing?”
I take a seat on the barstool. “My apologies. I promise to never do it again.”
She tilts her head, as if she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe me. “Promises are a big deal.”
