Not Just Another Romance Novel (4 page)

7

I happened to be at the grocery store the next day when I met my next victim—I mean my next
research subject
.

Our hands had met over the cucumbers the first time. His left hand reached for the same cucumber as my right hand.

It seemed like something I would’ve orchestrated, but it actually was just a coincidence.

I checked out his hands. Strong hands were an immediate stimulant for me. I noticed the third finger on his left hand was empty. It was always the first thing I checked.

A single girl didn’t read romance novels obsessively without picking up a thing or two.

I smiled shyly—more at the girth of the cucumber than anything else—and let go of the vegetable. And then I turned to look into the eyes of the man next to me.

He was, simply put, gorgeous.

I must not have been looking hard enough before, because attractive men seemed to be literally all around me in San Diego. This one had lighter hair cropped short and brown eyes. He looked like a runner. His body was strong and lithe and definitely fuckable.

Oh shit. Did I really just think that? Again?

I’d just met my next fuckable subject the night before. And now…

I smiled at him, and he motioned toward the cucumber. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled back, and I headed over toward the grapes when I saw him return to his cart. A little girl sat in the front of the cart, her chubby little legs poking through the leg holes. She smiled up at him and giggled at something he said while I tried not to stare.

He hadn’t been wearing a ring when our hands had met over the cucumber. He could, quite possibly, be my DILF.

I deduced he had to be a dad by the way the little girl in his cart looked at him like the entire universe revolved around him.

And I definitely wanted to sleep with him based on looks alone.

So he fit the definition of the DILF. And even if it wasn’t his kid, I’d find some category to put him in. I just had to time things right. Assuming, of course, he was actually single.

I grabbed the groceries I needed, and then I purposely looked for him. I found him in the snack aisle.

I tried to be stealthy, walking up to the same snack I saw him reaching for.

It seemed like a good plan. Our hands met on the box, and I felt a little tingle start in my hand where he touched me before it ran up my arm.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, trying to sound surprised before looking over at him.

He grinned at me and pulled the box from the shelf. He handed it to me. “Your kids love these, too?” he asked.

Unfortunately, in my grand plan, I hadn’t bothered to check what I’d reached for. I looked at the box of Scooby Doo Graham Cracker Sticks I held in my hand.

“Uh…no. I don’t actually have any kids. My…um…nephew is a big fan, though.” He didn’t need to know that I didn’t actually have a nephew.

His grin widened, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. Another turn on. I thought about those teeth dragging down the bare skin of my—

“My daughter loves them.” He pulled down another box and handed it to the girl in the cart.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks. She looks like her mom.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
Is she still in the picture?

It just didn’t seem appropriate.

“But she moved to Florida with her boss, so it’s just the two of us now. Right, Piper?”

I perked up at that. “Your name is Piper?” I asked the little girl. She ducked her head shyly and barely nodded.

“So is mine!” I said. Something in common.

I wondered if DILF would have a problem with that. Could he call out our name in the heat of passion? That seemed kind of twisted. He could come up with some nickname for me. I’d be okay with that. Maybe “sugartits” or “cowgirl.”

“Nice to meet you, Piper,” I said, sticking out my hand to the girl in the cart. She ducked her head in shyness again, but she took my hand.

“What a coincidence,” DILF said.

“And it’s nice to meet you, as well,” I said, smiling at DILF.

“I’m Jason. Nice to meet another beautiful Piper.”

I blushed at that. DILF Jason had a way with the lines.

We both strolled down the aisle and headed toward the dairy section. I’d never thought of a grocery store as sexy, but suddenly I wondered if little Piper would be okay with hanging out in dairy while I took her dad for a little rendezvous in the freezer section.

Shit, the two of us would probably melt all of the ice cream and there’d be a sticky mess everywhere.

Not necessarily from the ice cream.

I may have been getting a little ahead of myself.

We both picked up our milk. So what if I didn’t drink milk? It gave me a reason to keep walking next to DILF Jason.

“So, Piper,” Jason said, setting the gallon in his cart. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Not grocery shopping.”

Jason laughed a cute, hearty laugh. Little Piper smiled and giggled, like she got the joke. But I guessed she really just giggled because her daddy had. It was actually pretty cute, and I wondered for a second if I’d make a good step-mommy for little Piper.

“If you’re free, I’d love to take you to dinner. Or I suppose I could cook you something since we have all of these fresh groceries.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Either sounds lovely.”

We exchanged numbers and checked out, heading separate ways.

I smiled as I looked at his number programmed in my phone. I had another date scheduled.

* * *

After another thrilling three hours with Dr. Harris in our Advanced Statistics in Psychology class, Scott and I met our study buddies at our usual table in the library. Math had never been my strongest subject, so it helped to have a friend in the same class as me. Shannon and Austin decided to put off the Stats class to the following semester. It was a smart move on their part since they’d have our notes.

The four of us met nearly every day, whether or not we had actual studying to do. It helped to touch base with people who were going through the exact same things as me.

Well, nearly the exact same things as me.

Somehow I doubted any of my three friends were quite as connected to their research topics as I’d become.

And somehow I doubted they’d get the same type of…pleasure…out of their projects that I’d been hoping for.

God, it had been much too long since I’d been with a man. My book boyfriends were definitely sexy, and I’d fight to the death for any of them…but they didn’t get the job done the way a living, breathing man could.

A DILF, for example.

Or perhaps a rock star.

“Dax likes you,” Austin announced the moment I slid into my chair. Scott set his stuff down and excused himself to make a phone call. Shannon hadn’t arrived yet.

I raised an eyebrow as I set down my bag and pulled out a notebook and my phone. I set my phone face down on top of my notebook. I grabbed a pen, fiddling with the clicker on the top of it as we spoke.

“How do you know?” I asked, feeling like I was in fifth grade as I gained intel on the boy I had a crush on.

Which was actually somewhat accurate.

“He texted me yesterday and said some things.”

“Such as?”

Austin tapped away on his phone and scrolled for a few seconds. He looked up at me and made like he was going to hand it to me, and as I reached over, he pulled his hand back. “You are never, ever to tell him I showed you these.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

I drew a cross over my heart and then held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

He pressed his lips together and handed me his phone.

Dax: Good choice, man. She’s hot.

Austin: I told you.

Dax: Can’t wait to see her again.

Austin: She’s a nice girl. Not a one and done.

Dax: That’s not really my MO.

Austin: I’ve heard otherwise.

Dax: Want me to stay away?

Austin: No. I think she’s into you.

Dax: Good. I liked what I saw in the three seconds we had behind the bar.

Austin: Just don’t hurt her.

Dax: Never my intention. Tell her to call me.

I reread the conversation twice before handing him back his phone.

So Austin told Dax I was hot? And Dax agreed?

This little social experiment of mine became more and more interesting all the time. I couldn’t help my wide grin.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Austin,” I said quietly. “And thank you for helping me find my research subjects.”

He smiled affectionately, a touch of wickedness in his eyes. “Gotta get my girl laid, know what I’m saying?”

I blushed from the top of my head all the way down to the tips of my toes—and back up again—as I burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Scott asked as he plopped down in the seat beside me.

I was laughing too hard to reply, but Austin said, “Nothing,” that wicked grin still on his handsome face.

We’d just barely calmed down when Shannon joined us. “What’s the latest with your research?” she asked, clearly more interested in my love life than her own project.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how unique my topic truly was.

“Met a DILF at the store last night. He invited me over for dinner. He’s taking his daughter to his sister’s house and cooking for me.”

“Is his home base safe?” Scott asked.

I shrugged. “He was really sweet with his little girl. He seemed trustworthy.”

“Where’s the mother?” Shannon was thoroughly engrossed in my updates.

“She ran off with her boss.”

“Ouch,” she said. “How did you meet him?”

“Our hands touched over the cucumbers.”

“Sweet and a little weird all at once.” She pulled out her notebook.

“Speaking of sweet and weird, guess what his daughter’s name is?”

Six eyes turned toward me.

“Piper,” I announced.

All three of my friends groaned at me.

“What? It’s cute.”

Shannon was the only one with the nerve to say what all four of us were thinking. “It’s cute that when he’s banging you, he’ll be yelling out his daughter’s name?”

“Oh. My. God! Shannon!”

“We were all thinking it. You did call him a DILF, for Christ’s sake. That means you wanna bang him. So…you’ll probably bang him, and then he’ll be yelling your name…”

Scott shifted uncomfortably, as did I, but Austin just grinned again.

I just stared at a fixed spot on the table, not willing to make eye contact with anyone while they all imagined me banging the DILF.

And then a sudden thought hit me. “Oh God. No. No! Nononono.”

“What?” Shannon asked, alarmed.

I crossed my arms on the table in front of me and lay my head into the nook.

“What?” she asked, louder this time.

“Dr. Prestbury,” I mumbled from the embarrassing shield of my arm nook.

“What about him?” Austin asked.

“I’m going to have to tell him what a DILF is. He’s going to know I have sex.”

I heard eruptions of laughter that were much louder than necessary.

Dr. Prestbury was like my dad’s age, only older and scarier.

And we were going to eventually have to discuss my sex life in those meetings.

Scott saved the day with a subject change. He had some questions about his own project, so we moved away from me for a while. But I couldn’t help the dread forming in the pit of my stomach.

I really hadn’t thought this project through.

8

I pulled into DILF’s driveway. I mean JASON’s driveway.

I double checked the address, and I definitely had the right place. Jason’s house looked nice from the outside. Not a single weed tarnished the beautifully landscaped yard, and the bushes and trees were trimmed to perfection. His house was a single-story sprawling affair—not a mansion, but definitely bigger than the two-thousand square foot home I’d grown up in back in Las Vegas.

I grabbed my phone to put it on vibrate when I saw a new text from Scott.

Have fun tonight, but be careful. You don’t know this guy. You need anything, call me. P.S. If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEapple.

I smiled at my phone as I shut off the volume. It was actually pretty sweet of Scott to look out for me.

Thanks. I’ll be okay. :) P.S. You are hotter than the bottom of my laptop.

I tossed my phone into my purse and walked up the perfectly swept driveway to the front door. I took a deep breath, rang the bell, and waited.

Jason opened the door a moment later. He looked freshly showered and he smelled divine. He wore a simple black Nike polo and khaki shorts. I felt slightly overdressed in a navy blue shift dress with camel colored heels.

“Welcome.” He smiled at me and opened the door wider to allow me in.

As I passed by him, I inhaled the delightful cologne he’d chosen. He leaned in and kissed my cheek in a friendly manner, and then he guided me with his hand on the small of my back. We passed a living room and a dining room before we ended up in the kitchen area.

It was clear he’d shared this house with his wife. There were too many womanly clues hanging around. Like the abstract painting of a bowl of bananas and the matching valance above the kitchen sink.

It looked transitional, though. The house featured a mix of masculinity with a few feminine touches that hadn’t been removed quite yet.

As usual, my analytical brain immediately assessed the situation.

His house made me wonder two things.

First, how long had she been gone?

Second, why was he hanging onto those things? Did he really like the valance with bananas? Or was it a way to hold onto his ex?

He smiled as he motioned for me to sit in a stool at his counter, so I sat. He handed me a plate with appetizers and a smile.

Tiny toasted breads with tomatoes on top filled the plate.

“My mother’s bruschetta recipe,” he said sheepishly.

I smiled at the effort he’d put in for our first date. Maybe the first of many. I felt optimistic and comfortable in Jason’s house. “Perfect. Does your mother live around here?”

He shook his head, a touch of sadness clouding his eyes. “She died a few years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He nodded and turned toward the refrigerator as an awkward silence descended. “Wine okay?” he asked, pulling out a chilled bottle.

“Sounds perfect.”

So his mom died and his wife left him. Poor guy probably had abandonment issues. And maybe I could be the person to make him feel wanted and cherished.

Or maybe not.

Time would tell, and by the end of the night, I’d know if this was worth pursuing.

He poured two glasses quietly, and then he handed one to me.

“To chance encounters at the grocery store.”

I smiled and clinked his glass with mine. I set my glass down after my first sip, but we were both quiet for so long that I picked it back up. It gave me something to do while he stood awkwardly staring at me. I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to eat his appetizer or drink his wine or break the silence.

“Are you hungry?” he finally asked.

I nodded. “Can I do anything to help?”

He shook his head and moved around the kitchen. Awkward silence descended again. 

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Jason?”

“I’m a father, as you know. Piper is my life. I’m all she has since her bitch of a mother left.”

Whoa. I sensed a little bitterness toward the ex-wife.

I cleared my throat. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a mortgage broker. You?”

“I’m actually a student at SDSU.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“And you’re a student?”

I nodded. “Master’s program.”

He fiddled with some dishes in the sink for a moment. “What’re you studying?”

“Psychology.”

We were treading into dangerous territory. I wasn’t sure what to tell him if he asked me about my thesis research. I figured it was common knowledge that a master’s came with some kind of project.

I certainly couldn’t tell him he was a DILF in my social experiment.

“What do you want to do with that degree?” He walked over to the oven and grabbed his hot pads to take something out.

Shit. Even that was treading into dangerous territory given what he’d already told me about his ex-wife. “Marriage counseling.”

He chuckled. “Perfect. You can analyze where Elise and I went wrong.”

“I’d rather not.” It slipped out before I had a chance to stop it. But dammit, we were on a date. I didn’t want to hear about his wife. Was she still his wife? Was she an ex? Either way, I certainly didn’t want to offer free advice to him.

I took a bite of the bruschetta. Well, I tried to take a bite of it. I nearly cracked a tooth on the hard bread. I almost asked him what the hell he’d done to make the bread so hard, but I stopped myself. He had put forth a nice effort for me, and it would be bitchy of me to insult him.

But I had to wonder what poor little Piper ate for dinner on a regular basis if this was how he cooked.

He spooned some chicken and rice onto two plates from the casserole dish he’d pulled out of the oven.

“Join me at the table,” he said smoothly, carrying both plates over to the eating area. I grabbed my wine glass and followed him, inhaling that fantastic cologne again.

I noticed a candle lit on the middle of the table, and I let the comments about his wife go. He really was trying here with me. I imagined this had to be hard for him. He was jumping into the dating scene with someone he didn’t know at all—someone he’d met over cucumbers in the grocery store.

I smiled shyly at him as he set my plate in front of me.

“This looks wonderful.” I did my best to say it with sincerity, but the bruschetta incident had sort of terrified me.

He picked up his fork. “My ex-wife’s recipe.”

And there was the ex again.

I wasn’t sure if I could really do this with him. He didn’t seem ready to do this with me, either.

But the sexy dad who looked to be somewhere in his late twenties seemed lonely. If nothing else, this would be a nice night between two potential friends. I didn’t ever have to see him again if I didn’t want to. And on the flipside, maybe I
would
want to.

I nodded awkwardly at his words, not sure what to say.

He took the first bite and nodded slowly, fairly impressed with his own work. I took it as a good sign he didn’t die, so I picked up my fork and got to work.

Clearly his ex-wife had been a better cook than his mother.

The chicken and rice tasted delicious, and we moved into safer “getting-to-know-you” subjects that didn’t involve ex-wife Elise.

I discovered he was twenty-eight. He had a passion for running—his body showed off that fact—and he had participated in several marathons. He talked a little about his daughter, and his eyes lit up any time he mentioned her name. She was clearly the center of his life. I learned she was three-years-old and had a Scooby Doo obsession. We laughed about the graham cracker box, especially when I confessed I orchestrated our second run-in at the store.

I talked about my passions, which mostly included reading, music, and human behavior. I felt a little dull next to the marathon man with the sweet little girl, but he didn’t seem to mind.

We both drank wine, and after two glasses, the conversation became much less awkward. I even started feeling a tiny bit of sexual tension between us. My heart raced as I glanced at his lips, wondering what they would feel like moving over my own.

I repressed the thought for the time being.

After dinner, Jason took me on a brief tour of his house. Piper’s room was all pink princess sparkles. She was obviously the queen of the house despite the fact that not a single toy was out of place. Clearly Jason was meticulous about a pristine house. I wasn’t sure if we’d get along in that respect. I wasn’t dirty, but I wasn’t a neat freak, either.

I noticed nails in the walls with no pictures hanging on them in some of the rooms, and I wondered again how recently his wife had left him.

I wasn’t about to bring her up, though. Not when her presence had finally left our conversations.

We settled in on his couch to chat some more. The conversation was flowing now, and the awkwardness had left. He put his feet up on the coffee table, and I kicked off my heels and followed suit. I felt relaxed with him. I could see nights like this in our future. Piper would be asleep in her room while the two of us talked about our days on the couch, sipping wine and laughing.

It would be an insta-family, and I could be the one Jason was looking for. I’d never run off with my boss and leave him and his adorable daughter the way his ex had.

So I may have been getting ahead of myself again. Just a tad. But I really liked Jason, and as he scooted a little closer to me and that delicious cologne mauled my senses, I really wanted him to kiss me.

I leaned a little closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. We both stared ahead at the television, even though it wasn’t actually on. I closed my eyes, comfortable already with this man I’d just met. And then I wondered for just a second if Piper’s visit at her aunt’s house was of the overnight variety or if Jason would have to go pick her up at some point.

“What cologne do you wear?” I asked suddenly.

“Some stuff my ex bought me.”

Oh
God
. He still wore the cologne she bought for him. That couldn’t be good. I brushed it off. Well, the wine allowed me to brush it off.

But damn, it smelled like my own version of heaven. I closed my eyes and breathed him in.

“You like it?” he asked tentatively.

“I love it,” I said without thinking.

I froze the second I said it, my eyes popping open. Did I really just tell the DILF that I loved his cologne? Did I actually use the word “love” with someone I’d just met?

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Apparently it turned on DILF Jason, because he sat up slowly, took my wineglass from my hand, and placed it on the table in front of us. And then he reached up with his hand and cupped my cheek, his eyes giving him away.

He wanted me.

His smoky and smoldering gaze pinned me to my seat.

He moved in closer to me, and my eyes closed as I waited for his lips to connect with mine.

When they did, I was not disappointed.

Those full, perfect lips did some magic on my own. He kissed me hungrily, his lips moving over mine firmly. And then his tongue parted my lips, aggressive and somehow slow and tender at the same time.

He was a really, really good kisser.

I moaned incoherently into him, a signal that I wanted more. He slowly pushed my upper body so I was lying on my back on his couch. His lips never left mine, and the hand that cupped my cheek never left my face, but his other hand moved down the length of my body, slow and steady like his lips. His hand grazing my body sent bolts of lightning through my torso.

In that moment, if he tried to get me to sleep with him, I without a doubt would’ve given it up.

I hadn’t had any action in far too long. My last actual date before this had been well over a year earlier. I’d been too focused on my studies during my first year in graduate school to worry about dating.

That was sort of a lie.

I’d been too busy reading romance novels instead of experiencing my own romance. I’d been holed up because I’d been hurt when I found out the guy I’d been dating my senior year of college was also dating three other women at the same time. I’d written off men for a little while, but I was undeniably ready to hop back into the game.

I’d only had one semi-serious relationship, if you could even call it that, with my high school sweetheart. Brian and I had started dating when my sophomore year, and we made it all the way to our freshman year in college. We parted ways when the distance factor tore our young love apart.

I dated casually throughout college, but I’d never really found anyone who made my heart race. Even Brian hadn’t, really. Looking back, I had thought it was love at the time. Now that I was a little older and had experienced a little more of the world, I realized that at fifteen, I didn’t really know what love was.

I still didn’t, but I knew someday I would. I’d get the flutters I read about in my books every time my man walked into the room. Our eyes would always search for each other’s. He would talk to his friends about how much he missed me when we were apart. It would be the storybook romance, but it would be my life.