“Date number three and you’re still having second thoughts? Or is it him?” A hushed wolf whistle eased from her pursed lips. “Though, I’ve gotta say, that boy sure does fill out a pair of jeans and those blue eyes can melt brick cheese but, if he’s stringing you on, let me know and I'll sort him out or get one of the boys to do it.”
She gave my hands a squeeze. “Not that I don’t think you can handle yourself but, in times like these, it’s good to have someone—”
“No, he’s fine...” The word fine twisted in my head as the source of the problem. Was fine good enough?
Molly was right. Roy’s a good-looking guy. If he was a fireman, he'd have his own month in their charity calendar, but he lacked that certain ummph! I needed to seal the deal. I'd spent hours thinking about it to the point of distraction but couldn't make that feeling go away.
“But sometimes fine just isn’t enough. Am I right?” said Molly as if reading my mind.
My head bobbed slowly in agreement. “Yeah...I guess this is a make or break kinda date.” It was the first time that thought had come to mind and, having said it out loud, was made real, made it a tangible scenario I could meet head on to find peace.
I nodded again. “Yeah, I think that’s it. It’s time to put up or shut up. See what he’s got and if he isn't—”
Molly snickered and that dirty grin was back. “See what he’s got, eh?”
My eyes rolled as I giggled. “You’re too much.”
“Sure am. Rode the hubby right into the grave—God rest his soul—but he loved every minute of it.”
Shock hit me. Molly’s a widow? I wondered. How did I miss that? How is it I didn’t know? She had a ring on her finger and, even though she didn’t speak much of him, I assumed she was just private about her marriage. “I’m so sorry, Molly. I...”
“Don’t be, sweetie. We had our time together and never wasted a second. I believe one day we’ll meet again, but until then, the money he left behind got this place going and keeps me close to him.”
“You must be proud of what you've done and surely he would be, too. I wish I could’ve met him.”
“You and so many other women. It’s how this place got its name—”
And that’s when I saw Roy standing by the edge of the booth next to Molly.
She was right.
His smile.
His eyes.
That dimple in his left cheek.
He was a package that stirred up every bit of fire in me and fueled multiple fantasies since I’d discovered him on the dating app. If pressed in hard questioning, I’d have to admit that I picked him before even reading his profile. Those eyes alone could make me do things that I—
Molly gave me a double-take and then her head spun back to see him.
She gasped and covered her mouth.
Roy’s hands swung up to his sides. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Am I early?”
“Nope,” I said, glancing at the watch I’d already checked about a dozen times in the last ten minutes, “You’re right on time.”
Molly gave my hand a love tap and leaned in to whisper, “Here I am going on like some saucy floozy and you don’t tell me he’s hanging around?”
I giggled.
She leaned in even further, her busty bosom nearly resting on the table, and whispered, “If you decide three strikes and he’s out, you can send him trotting my way.” She lurched up with a laugh that drew all eyes to our booth and ignited scatterings of laughter and chuckles around the room.
Roy, the only one appearing to feel left out, stood in place with an awkward smile on his face.
Easing up from the seat, Molly said to him, “Come on in. Make yourself at home,” and he did, taking her seat, as she continued, “Iced tea, right?”
“Yes, please.”
She turned to me. “And a refill for you, Miranda?”
“Um, yes, please,” I said, sliding my coffee cup to the edge of the table.
“Perfect. I’ll be right back,” and Molly squish-squished away.
Roy sat back in his chair with a smile. “You two get along well, eh?”
I threw a glance over my right shoulder to the kitchen counter, my view partially blocked by the back of the booth. “Absolutely.”
“She’s got a lot of energy. Good energy.”
“Yeah, she does. She’s incredible.”
“Well, I appreciate you introducing me to this place.”
And that’s when it hit me, why I didn’t normally bring dates here. If I end this with him, he may still come around. Then I’ll have the awkwardness of bumping into him when I just want to come and get myself a stacked Montreal smoked meat sandwich as a late night craving or late shift meal.
Oh, Miranda, you stepped in it this time, raced through my head.
“You're welcome. After about seven years of coming here, it's pretty much become my little safe haven of solitude. The spot to just get away from everyone.”
“I can respect that. We all need that place where we can relax and just get our head right,” he said, removing his jacket and revealing the Beretta that’s been strapped to his hip for all three dates.
Whether it was the fact that our dating future was on the line or that I was already beyond hungry, I did what had been eating at me since we met—I asked the question. “You’ve got a permit for that, right?” Giggling, I tried to play it off as a joke but it all felt flat and false, making this one of those times I should’ve stopped that voice in my head from getting out in public.
“Of course,” he said with a smirk.
Was that a look of cockiness, or is he one of those guys who enjoys putting people off by carrying a weapon?
Roy nodded to the Glock at my side. “You?”
Trying to mimic him, smirk and all, I answered, “Of course.”
In unison we both closed that door with, “Good.”
A large percentage of those in our city are registered and licensed to carry owners but I was still waiting for the day when seeing someone else armed in public wouldn’t flip the switch on my training and put me into risk assessment mode. It didn’t matter what his dating profile said, he was still a stranger at this point and it’s the reason this would not be what Molly would consider a good, old-fashioned, traditional third date.
We sat in silence for ten to fifteen agonizing seconds before he cleared his throat and swallowed hard.
“I...” Roy started, and then focused his stare on me to try again. “I know it’s only been a couple days since I saw you and it’s not considered typical on a third date to make such a statement, but I’m a, um, straight shooter...” His eyebrows raised.
Clearly it was an attempt at humor. One that might have landed with me in other circumstances. Instead, I was unwilling to try another fake laugh, but, concerned about where this was going, I let it pass.
Then the shocked thought jolted my brain. Is he about to ditch me before I can ditch him?
When my laughter didn't come, he continued. “But I’ve been thinking a lot about you. About us. Even while at work, it’s been hard to focus.”
“On doing your security job, right?”