Page 61 of The Backup Groom
He slapped his thigh gleefully. “Good one!”
Good looking, ripped, sense of humor, and a doctor?
My odds were getting worse by the minute.
Oddly enough, the only thing that gave me the slightest bit of hope was the pained expression on Amber’s face. She didn’t want me to leave. Unless that look was because she was wondering why I was still there. I wouldn’t have blamed her but there was a more urgent matter that needed my attention.
My best friend was stuck in a refrigerator.
“I have to run, so you two have fun,” I said to be cool, pretending his presence didn’t affect me one bit. “Make sure you try the carnitas tacos. Everybody is talking about them.”
I weaved my way through the tables toward the front door, my thoughts on Amber and the proctologist. He wasn’t her type, there was no doubt about it.
Or at least that was what I wanted to believe.
She was the kind of woman who wanted more than good looks and huge muscles. Amber wanted a connection, great conversation, and a husband who could also be her best friend. Because eventually, his muscles would droop, his good looks would fade, and all that would be left was an old man telling butt jokes.
The more I thought about it, the more confident I felt nothing was going to happen between them. There were two other things I was sure of.
Amber and I had an undeniable connection.
And she deserved to know the truth.
Tomorrow night on our date, I was going to tell her my real name, and more importantly, fill her in on my impending divorce. Then I would make it abundantly clear how crazy I was for her, and that I wanted nothing more than to betheRyan Scott she married.
ChapterThirteen
Amber
I should have hurled my body to the floor and wrapped my arms around one of Scotty’s legs like a baby monkey, begging him to not leave me alone with the big, burly man. Even if Scotty would have dragged me through the dining area of the restaurant as he’d tried to flick me off his leg, it would have been worth the embarrassment if there were even the slightest possibility of him staying longer.
No such luck.
Scotty was long gone, and I pretended to enjoy myself as Rectum Ryan launched into what must have been his tenth proctologist pun.
“During my surgical residency, I had to work my way up from the bottom,” he said with a brilliant smile and the most perfect teeth I’d ever seen.
I kept my eyes from rolling, which was impressive but I couldn’t help thinking that this guy spent more money on his gym membership and health supplements than I spent on my monthly rent. I was tempted to text Stella and tell her we were changing his name to Ripped Ryan, but I didn’t want to be rude and use my phone during the meal.
Yes, he was gorgeous, but I preferred someone who was less obsessed with his looks and butt jokes. I had the distinct feeling that if we were to get married, he would spend more time looking at himself in the mirror than looking at me. He wasn’t my ideal partner, but I didn’t have the luxury of being picky at this point. Besides, it was temporary.
It still bugged me that Scotty had left so abruptly. At least I had our date tomorrow night to look forward to. For the moment, I needed to get through this evening.
To be clear, Rectum Ryan had some positive qualities. Several, in fact. He was a doctor who saved lives, after all. Honestly, even though his size was intimidating, he was a decent man if I ignored his onslaught of silly jokes and that tortilla chip crumb shaped like California that dangled from his otherwise perfectly groomed beard.
One thing was for sure, it was like night and day when I compared him to Scotty.
Not that I would ever do that.
In fact, it would have been in my best interest to stop thinking about Scotty so much. I’d known him for years, so why would I have suddenly noticed how wonderful he was? How had I missed the obvious? There couldn’t have been a more inconvenient time to like someone, therefore I needed to smother that flame before my ovaries became a four-alarm fire.
I could still see Scotty tomorrow night, but strictly as friends, of course. It would be counterproductive to have feelings for someone I couldn’t marry. Still, the thought of him made my heart race.
“You certainly know a lot of proctologist jokes,” I said, trying to make any kind of conversation with him.
Rectum Ryan gave me an impish grin. “I’ve got them coming out the wazoo.” He popped another tortilla chip in his mouth.
“Amigos!” Pablo returned with our food. “Two carnitas taco platters. Enjoy.”
