Page 23 of Flirting with the Stranger

“You’ve reached your destination.” The robotic voice from the GPS sounds.

I slow down and flip on the turn signal. An open wrought iron gate frames the paved driveway. As we creep up the red maple tree lined blacktop, a massive slate blue Victorian house with a wraparound porch comes into view. No wonder this guy spared no expense for the birthday party. I’m sure he wipes his ass with hundred-dollar bills.

I stop the van in front of the house on the circular driveway. As soon as I turn off the ignition, Lucas steps out the front door. Was he watching out a window, waiting for us to arrive? Probably couldn’t wait to flirt with Hollyn again. His dress shirt is pristinely pressed, and his slacks are perfectly tailored. A glint of silver in his hair shines in the early afternoon light. This is a kids' birthday party, not a funeral. When we step out, he directs us where to set up, his gaze never leaving Hollyn, and that fuels the fire already raging inside me.

After we’re all set up, party goers start arriving in droves. Kids of all ages run around with bubble wands, screams of laughter sound as they jump around in the bounce house, and there’s a petting zoo. What kid needs a freaking petting zoo? Normal kids get arcade games and pizza with an adult dressed up in a creepy-as-fuck mouse costume, not this.

All afternoon kids, parents, andLucascome up to the table to take a cupcake or two. Hollyn’s so graceful as she makes sure to bend down as each kid approaches so she’s eye level with them and tells them all about the magical unicorn cupcakes. All the kids absolutely adore her, and I can see why. Hell, I adore her.

As the party winds down, Lucas prowls to the table for the tenth time today. Still wearing his overpriced suit and sticking out like a sore thumb. Of course, the first thing he does is flash her his pearly whites as she stands in front of the table organizing cupcakes. Then he turns to me, his smile not as bright. I give him a tight smile and a head nod, but what I really want to do is punch the smugness off his face.

“Everyone loved your cupcakes. They were a tremendous hit with the kids and the parents.” Lucas stops next to Hollyn.

“Thank you so much. The compliment means so much to us,” She points a finger between us, “and the bakery.”

“What’s the trick for the extra burst of flavor in the frosting? Or is that because you made them?” His eyes crinkle in the corners.

She laughs and brushes her hand down his bicep. He glances down at her hand, his smile growing wider.Don’t cause a scene, Van.I repeat that over and over in my head because if I don’t, I might hurl my body across this table and tackle his old ass to the ground. We’re both about the same height, similar body build, though I think I’m more agile than him.

“You’re too sweet Lucas. Actually, the secret is an extra pinch of salt. It enhances the sweetness, so the flavors burst on your tongue.” Her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip. His gaze lingers there, watching her every movement.

“Well, anyway. I wanted to come over here and thank you for the cupcakes. My daughter loved the unicorn decorations.” He pauses. “But also, if you aren’t too busy, would you want to get a cup of coffee sometime?”

Her cheeks flush pink as she fumbles for her words. “Oh. Um.”

Unable to hold back any longer, I ask, “Do you always try to hook up with women at your kid’s birthday parties?” The bite to my tone is clear.

She whirls around and shoots daggers my way. If literal steam could come out a person’s ears, hers would be bursting. All I can do is shrug. I call it like I see it.

Lucas laughs nervously before directing his attention back to Hollyn. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention. It was nice to talk to another female, especially one who isn’t seven and only using me to buy her toys.”

“No. It’s alright. Since the party is over, we better get cleaned up and out of your way.”

“It was really nice talking to you.”

“You too, Lucas.”

Once Lucas is out of earshot, she turns to me, brows furrowed, nostrils flaring. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

My eyes go wide. “Me? I’m not the one trying to find my next lay at my kid’s birthday party. And he’s like twice your age. Maybe he should find someone closer to his own age bracket.”

She flings her arms in the air and exhales an exasperated sigh. “Sure, he’s a little older, but he’s not twice my age. He’s probably closer to my age than you. Anyway, we were only talking. Two adults having a conversation. As if you would know anything about that.”

“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck—”

“That makes you an asshole.” She turns and stomps away.

“No. It makes it a duck!” I yell to her back. “Fuck.” I turn back toward the table and kick the leg. “Shit.” I rake my hands through my hair. When I come to, a pair of innocent brown eyes stare up at me from the opposite side of the table. “Dammit. Don’t repeat that. Any of that.” I scan the table and pluck a left-over cupcake from the rack and hold it out to the little boy. “Have a cupcake.” He snatches it from my fingers and runs off, shoving the frosting in his face.

I finish boxing up the left-over cupcakes, take down the displays, and fold up the table. When I’m done, I haul everything to the driveway, where I find Hollyn throwing boxes around in the back of the van to make room for the tables and racks.

I drop the table to the ground. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine, Van. Just get the stuff so we can get out of here.”

She doesn’t spare a glance my way, so I turn around and collect everything to load into the van. The entire ride back to the bakery is silent. She sits with her arms crossed, staring out the passenger door window while I white knuckle the steering wheel. Jealousy and anger bubbling over. I hated how he looked at her, how he touched her. And she let him. I have no claim to her, but fuck, I want one.

When we arrive back at The Sweet Spot, I’m still in a foul mood. We get out and unload the van. Each of us grab an armful of items and haul everything into the bakery. Watching another man flirting with her in front of me was maddening. And she didn’t realize she was flirting back. The brushing of his arm, laughing at whatever he said. If that doesn’t give a man mixed signals, I don’t know what does. But what if she was purposely flirting back?

---