Read Online Perfect for You (Short Story) (Fire and Icing) by Jessie Evans - Free Book Online Page B

been making conversation with them,” Trent said, clearing his throat as he reached for his own coffee. “I thought I was hitting it off with a couple of people, but every woman I talked to either left with another guy, had an emergency and had to jet before I could get her number, or vomited on my shoes.”
    Dawn bit her lip to keep from laughing. “If you’ve had more than one woman vomit on your shoes, it sounds like you need to try hitting on women outside the bar. Way outside.”
    “The vomiting on my shoes only happened once,” Trent said, smiling. “At a New Year’s Eve party. I don’t go to bars anymore. I’m too old.”
    “You’re thirty-two,” Dawn said, rolling her eyes.
    “So are you,” Trent countered. “When’s the last time you went to a bar? At night, to hang out and meet people, not a sports bar or a restaurant with drinks on the menu?”
    Dawn lifted her gaze to the ceiling where red fans twirled, their blades toiling to keep the room cool despite the ninety-degree June heat outside. “I honestly have no idea,” she finally said. “Two years ago? Maybe three?”
    Trent nodded. “It’s been at least three for me. I’ve been so busy building my business, getting married, getting divorced, and trying to squeeze in the gym a few times week, there’s been no time for fun.”
    “That might as well be my life slogan,” Dawn said, lifting her coffee cup to clink it against his. “I mean, I have a great time going out and doing things with my kids, but I’ve had one adult vacation in the past six years, and it was pretty lame. I spent the entire time watching my girlfriends hook up and drinking whiskey with a woman whose son went to the same art camp as mine.”
    “How many kids do you have?” Trent asked, eyes lighting up. “I have a little girl, she’s—”
    Honk! Honk! Honk! The horn blared, cutting Trent off before he could finish, leaving Dawn with an odd, deflated feeling. For the first time all night she wasn’t ready to move tables. She wanted to stay and find out how old Trent’s little girl was, and what else they might have in common.
    No, you do not! Trent may have changed a little, but he’s still Trent, the most irritating meathead ever, and you have absolutely no urge to date him. Now stand up, and move it along, sister.
    “Well, I’d better go,” Dawn said, forcing herself to rise from her chair.
    “Wait.” Trent stood and reached across the table, capturing her fingers with one of his giant hands, sending a zippy feeling shooting through her body before he let go. “I know this may sound crazy, but do you want to get out of here? With me?”
    Dawn’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean…now?”
    Trent nodded. “We could ditch the rest of the speed dating, go find a bar, make time for some fun…keep talking.”
    Dawn hesitated, so shocked she couldn’t think what to say.
    “Don’t say no,” he said after a moment. “Or you’ll confirm that I’m a social leper and I’ll have to take my Daddy purse, go home, and never stick my head out my front door ever again.”
    Dawn smiled. “Your Daddy purse?”
    Trent motioned to the bag slung over his chair. “It’s a messenger bag I wear when I ride my bike; my daughter calls it my Daddy purse.”
    “That’s pretty cute,” Dawn said.
    “She also calls my protein bars my caveman biscuits.”
    “Well, that does it,” Dawn said, grabbing her purse, pulse racing as she realized she was about to play hooky for the first time since high school. “I have to hear more about this kid. Let’s get while the getting’s good.”
    Trent grinned, leading the way around their table, slipping between two planters full of fake ferns and around the miniature fire truck that helped separate the quick service area from the restaurant, heading across the red tile toward the door.
    Behind them, Dawn heard someone call out, asking where they were going, but before she could turn around Trent took her hand. She looked up,