Page 30 of When the Time Is Right
Right. Okay. I gave them both a curt nod and turned around ready to continue my search when a woman a few stools down called, “Hudson?”
Oh, thank fuck.
And then I saw her. Blond hair. Bright smile. Gorgeous blue eyes.
Oh, double thank fuck.
I walked over and extended my hand. “Sandra?”
“That’s me,” she chirped, taking my hand. “You can call me Sandy though. All my friends do.”
Okay. So, Lex did good this time.
I smiled, and she shifted her giant purse in her lap and motioned for me to sit down next to her.
“Actually,” I said. “We’re going to be late for our reservation. Are you okay if we grab a drink at the table?”
“Sure,” she said, rising to her feet. Resting her hand on her very round stomach, she finished with, “Though we aren’t drinking tonight.”
I blinked. Once, twice, seven thousand times. But the fact that this woman had to have been at least six months pregnant did. Not. Change.
This had to have been a joke. This was what I’d assumed was going to happen if I allowed Lex to set me up. But there was a bet involved and the stakes were a three-bedroom, two-litter-filled-bathroom monstrosity. There was no way she’d risk losing that for a good laugh.
I forced an expression that I feared only loosely resembled a smile and turned to make my way to the hostess. Sandy and her fetus followed hot on my heels.
Swapping uncomfortable smiles—or at least mine were uncomfortable—we were quickly guided to our table. The place was nice, and I made a mental note to bring Lex here for her birthday if I hadn’t killed her by then.
When the waitress dropped off two waters, I ordered a much-needed double Jameson neat and then slyly retrieved my phone from my back pocket, keeping it tucked under the table as Sandy listened to the night’s special.Me: What the fucking fuck did you do?It wasn’t a good sign for my Chevelle that her reply was immediate.Lex: What do you mean, what did I do? What did YOU do? I’ve been here five minutes and so far Handsy Hank has traced a finger down my neck, twirled my hair, and I swear to God, Hudson, I think he kissed the top of my head when he slid my chair out for me.A surge of adrenaline hit me, all frustration with Sandy’s reproductive system momentarily forgotten.Me: Kick him in the dick if he touches you again. I’m on my way.The waitress was still talking about Wagyu when I looked up. I was going to wait for her to finish before breaking the news to my dates—plural. But my phone vibrated again first.Lex: Relax. I just ordered two appetizers and the lobster. I’ll make his wallet hurt far more than you could make his face. And I won’t have to explain to my mother why her precious golden boy was arrested for assaulting an accountant. Win. Win.Lex: P.S. Seriously? An accountant? It’s like you don’t know me at all.She could take care of herself. Anyone who had ever met Lex knew that, but it didn’t make my blood boil any less that this prick thought he could put his hands on her.Me: Ask for a to-go box and I’ll come pick you up.Lex: Are you crazy? Lobster is terrible cold.Me: I’ll buy you another damn lobster. It will be cheaper than me paying his medical bills when I amputate his arms.Lex: Chill, Tarzan. I’m not drinking, he’s safely across the table, and I’ll tuck my legs beneath me in case he gets any ideas about a round of footsy. Now, put your loincloth away and tell me what’s wrong with Sandra.I blew out a ragged breath. Damn it, I really should have set her up with Cal again.“So,” Sandy said, pulling up my attention. “Alexis told me you have kids.”
Typing, I replied absently. “A son. Jack. He’s seven.”Me: Well, for starters, she’s pregnant.Lex: Holy shit, you work fast.Sandy kept talking. “That’s great. You may have noticed that I have a little one on the way. A girl, actually. But don’t worry. No daddy drama from me. Sperm donor three-oh-five and I get along really well.” She laughed at her joke.
I smiled. Where was that drink?Lex: Wait? Are you serious?I kept my eyes on Sandy, hoping I wasn’t coming off as a total asshole for texting at the table, all the while texting at the table.Me: Completely.Lex: How pregnant are we talking?Me: Does it matter? But let’s just say pregnant enough that our second date would have to be at Lamaze class.I looked up and she was staring at me expectantly. Shit. I was being a dick. I should say something.
Though my mind was still distracted with all things Lex and Handsy Hank. “So, when are you due?”
Add that to the list of questions I never expected to ask on a first date.
