Tame the Beast : Small Beach Town, Single Mom Romance

“I’m a pathologist. It’s literally in my job description.”

“Fuck me. You’re beautiful and smart?”

“Smooth.” I smile back at him, and he winks knowing exactly how smooth he is.

We have been at it for the past hour at least. Maybe more. Time just sort of stopped once I walked inside this place. All of my worries just vanished, and I have been truly enjoying myself. But this whole time he has been trying to weasel out any information about me by the means of this game or using sly follow up questions. I really don’t know why he wants to get to know me when I am as sure as a heart attack—as Joy put it the other day—that he is only interested in taking me to bed.

Which is also baffling to me.

I mean…I am just me. The girl who doesn’t get chosen, yet here is this sexy bartender who is trying very hard to win a night with me. When there are more than enough other—younger, prettier—girls around. In fact, there is a new one coming up to the bar every few seconds in an attempt to flirt with him.

I mean, I can’t really blame them. He’s that handsome and wears carefree confidence like his second skin. A perfect cocktail for all of us little moths.

Who I can blame, though, is me and my irrational hatred toward each girl who comes up. I almost want to slap their hands away and tell them to back off. Tell them it will be my name he will be adding tonight to his long list of conquests.

Yep, I’ve gone mad.

That must be another symptom of my pregnancy because never before did I entertain even a thought of a one-night stand.

And this fact should be enough for me to turn around and go back to the safety of my cottage, to my romance novels and fucking chamomile tea because wine is no longer an option. It would be enough any other time in my life but for some reason, today, I don’t care.

I like his attention. I like it a lot. Our age difference—six years—be damned. And I am here for it. Because this past hour has been the easiest one I’ve ever had.

Talking to this sexy, shameless flirt is easy. Breathing is easy here. Thinking is easy. And I haven’t felt like this in…hell, I haven’t felt like this ever. It almost seems like inside LPs I am not a future single mom who doesn’t have her life together. I am not a girl who spent her early twenties buried in books and studying her life away.

I am just me. Just Zoe.

So, I stay where I am as we shoot questions at each other.

“Never have I ever gotten drunk.”

“Have you been living under a rock?” He takes a sip.

“Nope, in the library.”

“Shit, I should do a booze pop-up shop there.” He scratches his beard like he’s really considering it. And I must admit that does sound like a brilliant idea. When you are five hours into studying soulless subjects, a glass of wine or two doesn’t sound half bad.

“Never have I ever been in a relationship.”

“Like ever?” I gape at him, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t already suspect.

“Never.”

“Do you want to be in one?”

He takes a second to think about it, puckering his lips as he does so. “You know, I never had a desire for one before.” He pauses locking his eyes with mine. “And most likely never will. I like my free-bird style of life.”

So, what he is trying to say without saying is: I am up for one night of fun and that’s all, so don’t get any ideas. Strangely, that thought doesn’t scare me as much as it usually did because one-night stands were not a part of my vocabulary before.

Now, all of a sudden, I am looking to expand it.

“Never have I ever gone to a club,” I say because based on his lifestyle I know exactly the type of questions to ask and smirk at him. “Drink up.”

“Evil little Sunshine.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Okay, never have I ever sleepwalked.”

He notices me thinking and starts laughing. “Okay, I need to hear this! In detail, please.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “There is no story. I don’t sleepwalk.”