Page 3 of Yours to Catch

“Speaking from experience?”

“Not personally, but the lucky ladies aren’t shy about sharing the sordid details.”

My stomach sours and I suddenly feel queasy. “How romantic.”

“What do you expect? Gossip travels fast in a community this tightly knit.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Home for me is an expansive city twenty miles north with a population nearing one hundred thousand.

“Well, for your information, bedding Garrett Foster is juicy bragging material.”

“Noted. It’s probably good that I’m only in Knox Creek during daylight, surrounded by children.”

“Unless a certain local convinces you to stay after the nanny duties are done.” Abbie wiggles her eyebrows.

I giggle again and allow my concentration to settle on a framed jersey hanging on the wall. “Either way, I’d rather be blissfully ignorant about my future husband’s previous relationships.”

“Oh, just relationships? Maybe Garrett is still in the running.”

“How so?”

“The story I’ve always heard is that he’s only ever dated one girl for the long-term. She broke his gentle heart.” Her lips droop into a frown.

There might be common ground to conquer. “Which led to?”

She waves off my question that might as well be rhetorical. “You don’t need me to fill in the blanks. Just go talk to him. There’s no harm in that. I bet he’d check off several boxes in a matter of seconds.”

I grin at her reference to my list of required qualities. It’s become somewhat of a joke. “You already told me that he’s not the right choice.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one to flip his permanent bachelor status.”

I snort. “Not a chance. Besides, he’s too…”

“Sexy?”

A sharp nod is my initial response. “Along with several other shallow traits including, but not limited to, preoccupied.”

Abbie glances toward the bar where Garrett is carelessly dumping the contents of an unlabeled liquor bottle directly into a woman’s mouth. “Ah, I see what you mean.”

“I’m sure it comes with the territory, but he doesn’t appear ready to change his feathers.”

A crease dents her brow inward. “Huh?”

“Like a tiger and his stripes, but Garrett is a rooster.”

She thumps her forehead. “Very clever.”

“Thanks.” I blow her an air kiss.

“Do you want to stick around for another round or are you throwing in the towel?”

“It’s barely nine o’clock. I’m not that picky,” I defend.

“You’re not. But,” she points at me with my discarded straw, “most guys our age aren’t interested in settling down. Especially in a place like this.”

“This bar was your choice,” I argue.

“Well, duh. I wanna get laid.” She winks. “Next time, you choose.”

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