Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2) (8 page)

“Asshole,” I murmured under my breath through a smile I’d tried not to let slip.

My brothers thought they were real funny. I was already starting to come up with my retaliation against Travis when another text came in.

Lizzy:
We can skip the bar and I could come over and rub out your cramp. I’m really good with my hands.

Well, damn. That was exactly the kind of invitation I would have been all over six months ago. Tonight, it just made the hollow emptiness inside me grow. Knowing that I couldn’t continue like this but still not sure I wanted to face Lizzy, I answered back noncommittally.

Trace:
Got a lot of work to catch up on. I might stop by later.

Almost immediately, the screen on my phone lit up.

Lizzy:
Don’t work too hard. All work and no play makes Trace a grumpy boy.

Oh, give me a fucking break.

Again with the grumpy. What the hell was wrong with people?

Deciding that I needed to tune out for a little bit—before I really did bite somebody’s head off—I put my earbuds in and turned my Spotify playlist on at full blast. As I worked, I pushed all thoughts of Lizzy, my brother, and even Cara out of my head.

Well, maybe not
all
thoughts of Cara. But hey, two out of three ain’t bad.

Cara

“He broke his arm pattin’ himself on the back.”

~ Dolly Briggs

“S
o, you started
working there right after graduation?” Peter asked as he lifted his mug of beer to his mouth.

“Yep. Well, kind of. I worked on spec at first, and then they brought me on as a contract employee, just working story to story.”

“Cool.” He nodded and checked his phone for about the fifth time in so many minutes.

When we’d first been seated, I’d thought it was rude that he’d pulled the device out and set it next to the white linen napkin on the tabletop. But, after glancing around at the other diners in the fairly upscale restaurant, it looked like that was the norm. Everyone was either on their phones or had them within reach. Well, except me. I’d turned my phone on silent in the parking lot.

He’d offered to make the twenty-minute drive—which was closer to forty-five in commuter traffic—to pick me up, but I’d insisted on meeting him. I planned on taking a page out of Harmony’s playbook and keeping my romantic entanglements outside Wishing Well city limits. It was easier that way. I loved the close-knit community I lived in, but the last thing I needed was everyone and their brother having an opinion—or, even worse, offering advice—on my personal life.

No. Thank. You.

“So, Harmony said that you haven’t really dated that much,” Peter commented as he set his phone down.

Seriously?
Embarrassment flooded through me, and I suddenly had the urge to strangle my best friend. What would have possessed her to reveal that piece of my personal life trivia?

“No.” I shook my head, trying to keep my face neutral. “I mean, yeah, I haven’t dated that much.”

“Yeah, I feel you. I haven’t really done that much
dating
, either,” he admitted as he rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a disaster. Even though not dating was an odd thing to have in common on a date, I would take it. In the short time we’d been doing the obligatory small talk, I’d yet to find one strand of commonality to grasp. I planned to hold on to this one with both hands.

“Really?” I responded casually, not wanting my excitement to show.

“Yeah. I had a girlfriend all through high school and we didn’t really date, unless you count football games and dances. Then, in college…” He sat back and blew out a loud breath as a smug grin crept up on his face. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t call what I did dating. Fucking, yes. A lot of
fucking
. Sometimes with more than one girl at once. But dating? Nah. I didn’t even know their names most of the time.”

I hoped my shock wasn’t being broadcast in high def on my face. But there was a better-than-good chance it was. I mean, who said that to someone they’d met less than half an hour ago? And not only share that information, but also look so proud about it?

Apparently, Peter does,
I thought as he winked at me.

“But I know your name,
Cara.
” He overemphasized my name as if it were some kind of a compliment or an honor that he knew it. Then, maintaining uncomfortable eye contact, he took another swig from his frosty mug, set it down on the table, and leaned back. “And I gotta say, I’m liking this whole dating thing. I feel very mature. Like an adult. Ya know what I mean?”

I found myself nodding, unsure how to respond. I had to admit that I’d felt the same thing when I’d been getting ready. When I’d slipped my dress on, I’d had the very distinct feeling of being a grown-up. That excitement had multiplied as I’d slid on a pair of black heels and pulled the thin strip of leather around my ankle before buckling it.

I mean, what girl didn’t love getting dressed up for a date? A first date at that. Still, I hesitated over sharing that information with him. Maybe it was that he’d just told me he’d been a man-whore in college. Or maybe it was because I didn’t feel anything when I looked at him. No connection. No interest. No spark.

Peter was a good-looking guy who fit almost everything on the list. He was twenty-four, with light-brown hair. He stood at least six foot tall, had pretty, blue eyes, a great smile and a little Charlie Hunnam vibe. He worked for his family’s furniture business. They made custom wooden furniture, mainly tables and dressers.

From what he’d described of his college days, he definitely had a little bad boy in him. And he’d been nothing but sweet to me, starting with offering to pick me up and then pulling my chair out as soon as the hostess had stopped at our table.

But, when I looked at him, I felt…nothing. Well, not nothing. I kind of felt awkward. I hoped that, after we got to know each other more, that would pass. I actually wished that I would have Ubered there; that way, I could’ve had a drink. A little liquid courage was probably what I needed to get past this uncomfortable get-to-know-you phase of the evening. I took a sip of my soda and didn’t think it was going to quite do the trick.

“So, what about you? Harmony would not
shut up
about the fact that I
had
to take you somewhere nice. Is that because you’re trying to break out of your random-hookup phase?” Peter asked without even a smidgen of judgment tinting his voice. His face was as serene as if he’d just asked if I liked puppies.

I, on the other hand, let out a little gasp, which hindered the liquid trying to travel down my throat. Setting my glass down, I brought the napkin I’d laid out properly on my lap to my lips so I could choke with a bit of discretion.

“Are you okay?” Peter sounded alarmed.

With as much poise as possible, I nodded and even gave him a thumbs-up.

Finally, after I was able to breathe regularly again, I shook my head and attempted to compose myself. “Sorry about that. It just went down the wrong pipe. And um…no, I’m not really the random-hookup kind of girl.”

By the time I got the last word in my explanation out, the light of Peter’s interest flickered and died.

“I’ve been…just, you know, really focused on school and, you know, then work,” I explained.

But he was already looking at his phone again.

As much as I wanted to call it a night, throw in the towel, chalk this up to an uncomfortable life experience, and move on, I had to make it through dinner, at least. Harmony had gone to the trouble to set this up. Peter had gone to the trouble of putting on a button-up shirt, and I was wearing a dress that had been hanging in my closet for the past six months and heels I’d worn a grand total of one other time. Not to mention this steakhouse was known for its filet mignon, which was exactly what I’d ordered. I just hoped that this night wasn’t a preview of what was to come in my adventures in dating.

Although, maybe it wouldn’t be all bad if it was a total crash and burn. I couldn’t count the number of dating horror stories I’d heard from Destiny and Harmony. I’d been a good audience when they were sharing their war stories, but I’d never had anything to contribute. Now, I would. Maybe this was like a rite of passage.

“Here you are.” The waiter set our plates in front of us.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“I need steak sauce,” Peter demanded without even giving the waiter the courtesy of glancing up from his phone.

Being rude or dismissive to
anyone
, but especially people in any kind of a service industry, was a
huge
pet peeve of mine.

“Of course, and can I get anything for you, ma’am?” The waiter lifted the empty food tray off the stand.

Still smiling brightly, I assured him, “No. I’m good. Thank you.”

As I cut into my meat, I tried to stay in the present and really experience the evening. My mind was already back home though, in Wishing Well, at the bar where Harmony and Destiny had agreed to meet me after this date.

“Oh shit!” Peter exclaimed.

My gaze shot up from my food. His hand was in a fist, held up to his mouth, as he laughed hysterically while still looking at his phone.

Now, it was my turn to sound alarmed. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… It’s just my friend. He sent… He’s just…” he managed to say between fits of laughter. After wiping his thumb and his forefinger under his eyes, which were watering because he’d laughed so hard, he said, “You know how it is. He’s just crazy.”

“Oh yeah, for sure, totally,” I agreed as if I knew what he was talking about. I didn’t.

“Oh man, I can’t believe he did that! I gotta forward it.” He motioned his head in my direction. “Right? I gotta forward it.”

I nodded on autopilot. But I still didn’t have a freakin’ clue.

“Oh damn!” he called out like he’d just won the lottery. “Everyone is snapping it now.”

My eyes shot to the diners around us. Peter was definitely not using his inside voice, and we were getting quite a few stares. Lowering my head, I started cutting my meat into larger bites and eating as fast as I could. The sooner my plate was clean, the sooner the night could be over. At least that’s how it worked when I was a child and my parents wouldn’t let us get up from the table until we’d finished.

“Oh shit! I’m being so rude.” Peter looked up from his phone as if he’d just been hit with a lightning bolt of epiphany.

“No, it’s fine,” I said with a mouth full of food.

“No, you gotta see this. It’s hilarious,” he insisted as if he were about to let me in on the funniest thing in the world.

He held his phone out, and I swallowed as I leaned closer to try to see what he was showing me. The screen was tilted and dark. As I got closer, he tipped the device up, and I had never been so happy that I wasn’t eating or drinking anything, because I would have definitely needed the Heimlich if I had been.

I’d always heard the saying “ignorance is bliss”, but I’d never actually bought into that theory. Until now.

“Is that a…” I asked in a horror-whisper.

“Yeah. It’s a dick pic,” Peter said, confirming my suspicion. Loudly.

If we hadn’t had the attention of everyone in the restaurant before, we did now.

Then his chest puffed out slightly. “Guess whose.”

Out of sheer shock, I played along. “Is it yours?”

“Yeah. My buddy Laser sent it to me. He’s hooking up with a girl I used to bang, and he found it on her phone. She kept it,” he explained with awe and pride. “Can you believe that?”

“No.” And I also couldn’t believe that he’d announced it to the entire restaurant as he’d shown it to me. I stared at my steak like it was the Aurora Borealis.

“Well, now, at least you know you won’t be disappointed,” he said with what sounded like complete sincerity.

This guy could
not
be for real. Against my better judgment, acting of its own accord, my gaze lifted from my northern lights steak plate. With a smug look on his face, he gave me a wink he must’ve thought was sexy, and it was all I could do not to laugh.

One thing was sure; I definitely had a dating story from hell to tell now.

Cara

“It wasn’t what I put my face on for.”

~ Dolly Briggs

“W
ait.” Destiny waved
her hands in front of her as she bent over the table in uncontrollable laughter. We were seated in the back corner booth at the Tipsy Cow, and this was far from her first giggle-fit of the night. It was, however, the most intense. When she finally pulled herself together, she sat up. “Okay, back up. It was
his
thunder from down under?”

“Yeah. That sounds like Peter.” Harmony was laughing, but not as hysterically as Destiny. She was amused, but not shocked. “He’s always been proud of his package. He whips it out all the time. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to have planned the whole thing. He probably had his friend send him the dick pic at dinner just so he could show it to you.”

“What are you talking about?” I leaned towards Harmony. “
Why
would he want to show it to me?

“For you to be impressed.” My friend shrugged as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. “You have to admit, Wally is pretty impressive.”

“Wally?” Destiny repeated.

“You’ve seen it?” I asked at the same time.

“That’s what he named it,” Harmony replied to Destiny, then turned to me. “And yes. Like I said, he whips it out all the time. You know how guys are.”

“No.” Destiny and I both shook our heads in unison then glanced at each other before finishing. “We don’t.”

Destiny was an only child. I had my older brother Colton, but he wasn’t really in the habit of “whipping it out.” At least, not that I was aware of. This conversation was one more example of how different Harmony’s experience of growing up with eight older brothers had been, when compared to ours.

“Well,” Harmony sighed. Then she continued as if she was tryin’ to explain the alphabet to kindergartners. “They do that sometimes. Not all guys, and not all the time. But you get them in a group, especially if alcohol is involved, and chances are a pissing contest will take place.”