Page 3 of Hesi-Dating
"I might’ve voted for you. You have a cool name, Seth Briscoe. If I knew you were this hot, I’d have checked the box next to your name for sure. You do have a good smile. Are you really the sheriff or are you pulling my leg?"
"Want to see my badge?"
"No, I'm good. I believe you." She didn't sound like she believed me.
"You can search me online me if you want."
"I might do that later." Something guarded had gone up on her face as if knowing what I did was a threat. Maybe she had a history.
"I didn't background check you or anything. That's a creepy misuse of resources. Plus, I don't know your last name."
"You're a better person than me. If I had access to that information and could do a check on everyone I dated before I went out, I would. Last name is Krieger."
"Would I find something bad if I checked on you?" I shouldn't have asked that. Now she looked even more spooked. Damn, I was bad at dating small talk.
"I have a few points on my license for speeding and running a red light or two. Nothing major."
To lighten the mood, I asked, "Your criteria for voting for someone is a cool name and being hot?"
"Why not?" She fiddled with a bracelet on her right wrist. "I'm not into politics, but I feel it’s my patriotic duty to vote. How long have you been sheriff?"
"Four years. I was a detective and deputy before that."
"Being the one in charge seems like it’d come with a lot of responsibility. How do you have time for dating?"
"Don’t really."But the therapist I’m required by work to see thinks it'll help me get in a better head space.
"High-speed chases and gang leaders. Sounds like a dangerous job." She busied herself with rotating the shot glass as if thinking about drinking.
This woman's natural self-assurance fascinated me. "I’m real sorry you feel like I stood you up. I was on my way up front. I swear."
"It all worked out." Her lips tilted upward. "I found you."
"I wouldn't have done that to you. No show, I mean." I traced a scratch on the bar counter. "To be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready for…all that goes with this yet."
"Hey." She touched my forearm again and waited until I met her gaze. "Your life got rocked by divorce. That gives you a free pass on feeling off on your first date."
I met her gaze and tried to nod but got caught up in staring at her luminous gray eyes. There were shadows in there that matured her far beyond her years.
"I'm sure it'll get better." She gave me an encouraging smile. "Dating is hard even when you haven’t been through a relationship catastrophe like divorce." Her delicate fingers closed over my hand. The light pressure felt good, supportive. It unlocked all the inner turmoil I’d hidden for months. "Relax, Sheriff. We're not about to start anything serious. No pressure. We're just two adults having drinks and an appetizer for a few minutes in our lives."
Pressure lifted off me.
The need to explain why my marriage ended bubbled out of me, which was weird. I didn't talk about this to anyone. "It wasn't my ex's fault things fell apart. So many people at work needed me to stay focused. The job ate up all my attention and turned me into someone I didn’t want to be. I was always at work and walled off at home."Stop rambling.But the verbal vomit wouldn't stop. Things I hadn’t spilled in therapy whooshed out. One little hand touch was all it took, or maybe this seemingly supportive woman was magical. "I was so busy trying to protect my staff and keep peace between people in the community that I lost everything at home. Since the divorce work has been one thing after another—especially after the church shooting at Solana Beach."
"Tell me you weren’t involved…that you didn’t have to see those poor children…"
The memory would haunt me for the rest of my life. I'd been on scene early. My desperate CPR on a tiny girl failed. I didn’t answer Joley but held her gaze, finding no criticism or pity in her eyes. The depth of understanding I saw startled me, but perhaps this was me reading too much into her look. An expansive feeling settled deep in my chest.
"Anyone would feel lost after something like that. I don't know how you deal with awfulness like that." She nodded toward the TV, which was still showing the flashing lights on the highway from earlier today. "Says a lot about you, being able to keep it together after something like that and then go on a date." Her hand squeezed mine and lifted away.
I missed the touch.
"What do you do for work?" I asked, desperate to get my attention off the fact I wanted her to hold my hand again. I tried to guess her job. "Maybe sales?"
"I’m in dental hygienist school at night. During the day I work to pay tuition. I started a new job a few weeks ago as a front desk host at Sten Corp, which is a few blocks north of here. It's an investment firm that owns one of the high-rise buildings downtown."
"You like teeth?"
