by BJ Harvey
“You want me to get a girlfriend?” I tease.
Harvey rolls his eyes and sighs. “You know what I mean, Mom. But I have to like him before you accept a date. Okay?”
My brows shoot up, totally taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. I didn’t expect Harvey to be so on board with this but also want to approve any man I date.
“Is that right, Uncle Ez? Do I get to approve the guy she dates?” Harvey asks my brother, who nods, his eyes shining with pride.
Ezra ruffles my son’s hair. “I think that’s fair. We’re the two most important men in her life. Well, your dad, too, but that might be a bit weird, right?”
I grimace, because Flynn and I are in a good place. He’s moved on and Sophie is awesome. But that’s not to say I’m itching to add someone else to the mix. The joys of not dating two years after an amicable divorce. I can only imagine how that would go down. ‘Hey, by the way, I live with my ex-husband, and he’s my best friend. Wanna meet him?’
Harvey nods and turns to me, his shoulders pulled back, his little man chest puffed out, and a determined glint in his gaze. “Right. You can meet Uncle Ez’s friend, but I want to as well.”
I hold my arm out, and Harvey comes around the table, stopping right in front of me. “Okay, how about this. I meet the guy, feel him out—” Ezra and Gilly start laughing under their breaths, earning narrowed eyes from me. My son frowns adorably. “I’ll get to know him, but before I agree to go out on a date with him, if it even gets that far, then I’ll ask your permission.”
“You’ve got my permission, Mom. If you’re dating someone, that means he could end up being my other dad, like my friend Jesse has, and any guy that might be my other dad has to treat you right, like my real dad does.”
My heart melts. My boy feels deep and he feels hard, and the look in his eyes and the sincerity of his words tells me this is important to him. God, I love my kid! “Come here, kiddo. I love you, you know that?” I ask him, jerking him into my arms for a huge bear hug.
“Mmm hmm,” he mumbles against my chest.
“So, you’ll do it?” Gilly asks, wiping happy tears away from her smiling face.
I nod, looking between my sister-in-law and brother. “Yes. But don’t tell him. Let’s go for the element of surprise.”
Ezra’s lips curve into a wicked grin as he rubs his hands together. “I’m looking forward to this BBQ now. Something tells me this one is going to be interesting.”
Chapter 3
Rhodes
“Dad! Marco and Renee are here,” Jake says from my bedroom doorway.
Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, I frown in confusion when he scans me from head to toe.
“You sure you don’t want to wear a nice shirt or something?”
Turning around to him, I quirk a brow. “Sorry, kid. Didn’t think the firehouse BBQ was a fashion show.”
‘It’s not,” he answers quickly. “But considering you’re a lieutenant and all, shouldn’t you put some effort in?”
I then realize he’s also not wearing just any old clothes he’s found on his floor as per usual. “Why are you dressed up?”
Jake looks himself over. “I wanted to wear a shirt with my jeans. You should try it sometime,” he adds with a smirk. My spidey senses are pinging, but I’m not exactly going to complain about my teenage son putting in some effort. He’s a good kid, but he’s also a sixteen-year-old boy who’s all about girls, sports, social media, and gaming. Pretty much the same as I was at his age, except I already had the girl, I played varsity baseball, and social media consisted of Myspace, not all the different sites available now.
Almost twenty-three years later, I’m a widowed single dad who’s contemplating taking up Dee Duncan’s offer to one day go into her restaurant for a thank-you dinner. Of course, she probably doesn’t see it as anything more than that, but the woman fascinates me even more after the scene outside her building last week. She flirted, I flirted back, and then I had to go, but the chemistry was there. I’m not so out of the game that I don’t remember what it’s like to feel a spark with a woman. I just haven’t wanted to have it ignite with anyone in the five years since my wife, Lily, lost her battle with ovarian cancer.
Jake walks over to my closet and rummages through the hangers before pulling out a black short-sleeved button-up and holding it out my way. It’s the exact shirt I had been thinking of wearing to Dee’s restaurant when I next had a clear night with no work, obligations, or when I wasn’t a walking zombie because of said work and obligations.
“Put this on. And do something with that.” He points to my hair.
“Jake, wanna clue me in on what’s going on? Is this more than just a normal firehouse catch up?”
“No. Nope. Not at all,” he replies cautiously. “You just never know who might turn up. You said you were open to dating and putting yourself out there. Why not practice tonight? Then we can work on getting you into speed dating or making an online profile for you or something.”
“You really are team dating now, aren’t you?” I smirk and take the shirt from him. Moving over to the bed, I reach behind my shoulders and tug off my CFD tee before replacing it with the shirt.
It was only recently that I decided I should put myself out there and consider dating again. That just happened to coincide with my growing fascination with everything Dee Duncan after Jake introduced me to her videos months earlier. At first I thought it was just another foodie with a god complex spouting their unqualified dribble about an amazing hamburger they’d bought, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Dee captivated me from her first smile to the camera and the following tirade about plant-based products that did not taste the same as the real thing. Then she’d covered non-animal product ones that—when done right—can taste okay. I’ve been a meat-eater since conception—all Andersons are—but the video had even me considering trying something different next time I was at the grocery store.
“Don’t forget the hair,” Jake says, walking out of the room. “Oh, and that cologne I got you for your birthday.”
That kid is something else. He’s awesome, and I’m proud of the man he’s becoming, but he never fails to give me glimpses of ‘what the fuck’ now and then.
After putting some putty in my hair and styling it, and giving myself a spritz of Bvlgari Man, I slide on my boots and walk into the newly renovated kitchen and living area to find Marco and his girlfriend, Renee, standing in a huddle with Jake, the conversation ending abruptly when they see me.
“Don’t stop on my account,” I murmur, giving them a suspicious side-eye as I grab my keys and wallet from the dining table.
“We’re just talking about school,” Jake says at the same time Marco says, “Thinking of going to a Bears game.”
I look between my son and his godfather with raised brows, while Renee struggles not to burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement before she hides her face behind Marco’s shoulder.
“So . . . school and the Bears. That’s the best you can come up with? Really?” I catch sight of Marco’s top and shoot Jake a glare. “Why does Marco get to wear a CFD T-shirt and not me?”
Renee sighs, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at the two. “Jesus, guys. Just tell the poor man.”
“And let him stress about it the whole way over there? Were you calm before your first date with Uncle Marco?”
Marco smirks at Renee, who looks a little flustered. “Hmm, princess, when was our first date?”
Renee’s cheeks turn pink, but she still manages to scowl at her boyfriend while she does it.
To his credit, Jake shakes his head at Marco, tut-tutting in disappointment. “Marco, have you learned nothing from me? You don’t embarrass your woman in front of company.”
“Or at all,” Renee mutters.
Jake nods. “Or at all. But Renee knows I’m right. If we tell Dad now, he’ll build it up in his head, and just his luck, he’ll get nervous and shit.”
“
Jake . . .” I warn. “Language around a lady.”
My son rolls his eyes. “It’s Renee. She’s hardly a—” He wisely clamps his mouth shut at the shocked expression on said lady’s face. Marco just chuckles and hooks an arm around Jake’s shoulders. “Hey, bud. Welcome to the doghouse. Get comfortable. It might be a while.”
That makes me laugh under my breath—well out of angry-woman-death-stare range.
“Right. As fun as it is to be the only one in the room without a clue, it’s not my birthday, I haven’t got a new job, and there sure as fuck isn’t anything else in my life exciting enough to be celebrated with a surprise party. So put me out of my misery, and just tell me already.”
Marco’s amused eyes turn to mine. “Rhodes, language around a lady.”
“Oh, fuck off, Marky Mark. Unless you’re going to tell me what the hell scheme you’ve cooked up with my son.”
Renee’s gaze switches between Jake and Marco before she sighs and moves my way. “Okay,” she says, stopping in front of me and reaching out to straighten my collar. “Hmm, nice touch with the cologne.”
“See, Dad? Told you!”
“Rhodes, stop charming my girlfriend,” Marco adds with a sigh.
I roll my eyes, meeting Renee’s amused ones. “Okay. You’re being set up with a woman tonight, and I don’t want you to freak out. Because then Jake and Marco would be right and I’d be wrong, and you really don’t want them to gloat the whole drive to Cohen and Skye’s. Believe me. Jake beat us at pool last week and he still texts Marco every day to toot his own horn. So just smile and nod, take a deep breath, and act like there’s absolutely nothing to freak out about. Can you do that?” Her eyes bore into mine but it takes a while for her words to register.
“Wait . . . you think I’ll freak out? What, is she someone awful or something? I mean . . . did Scotty pick her?” Scotty is the equivalent of our station’s class clown. He’s a good guy, and I trust him with my life every shift. He’s just . . . Scotty.
“No. She’s lovely. I just need you to be cool about this, because Marco arranged it, and since Jake found out, he’s become kinda invested in ‘Operation Get Dad Dating,’ which is sweet, but—”
“Potentially setting himself up for disappointment?” I say under my breath.
“Yeah. How do you feel about it?”
My lips quirk up. “Haven’t met her yet, have I?”
“Oh my god, I can totally see why you and Marco are friends,” she says with a laugh. I hook an arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side, catching Marco’s narrowed eyes and Jake’s cautious expression. “I’ve already got my date right here, boys. So you two can relax. I’ve got all the woman I need with Renee.”
“Hands off my woman, Anderson.”
“Aww, sorry, Lieutenant. Rhodes has got that helpless bachelor thing going for him. And then there’s Jake. That makes father and son the whole package,” Renee says, rubbing my chest while arching a brow at her man.
Jake is looking at the ground, his shoulders shaking with laughter, and Marco, the possessive idiot, is already halfway across the room to reclaim his girlfriend, making the rest of us chuckle.
“Now, we better hit the road so I can meet this woman you’re setting me up with. Who knows, Jake, you might’ve got it right the first try?”
His head jerks back. “Really?”
“No, ya knucklehead. But I appreciate the positivity.”
“Just don’t freak out, Dad. Okay? Be yourself, and she’s bound to like you. At least enough for a proper date, right?”
“Wow. Great pep talk, kid. And what kind of loser am I when my son feels the need to give me dating advice?”
“You’re not a loser, Dad. A little lame, but not a loser.”
“Quit while you’re ahead, Jake. Especially if you don’t want me to ‘freak out,’ as you put it.”
Thankfully, I’m not worried. I’m more curious as to who Marco might’ve set me up with, and why he thought the firehouse BBQ would be the best situation for what is for all intents and purposes a blind date.
I guess I’m about to find out.
Chapter 4
Dee
Skye and Cohen’s backyard is full of people, but in the hour since Harvey and I arrived, I haven't been able to relax. I’m nervous—with actual butterflies in my tummy. Thankfully, Mom and Dad and their best friends and lifelong neighbors, Marcy and Rick, are here too, which means that all of the grandkids from the Baker and Cook families are being spoiled rotten, entertained, and well-fed by the oldies. Everyone else is kicking back, talking shit, and enjoying a few drinks. Everyone except me, that is, because I’m a chef, and I can never sit idle when there’s food to prep, snacks to make, and dishes to serve. It’s just not in my DNA. Yet doing it all while constantly watching the back door and the side gate in anticipation of seeing the man you’ve agreed to be set up with does not a cool, laid-back, carefree Dee make.
To make matters worse, the gorgeous white shirt I was wearing when I arrived—one I’d chosen because it perfectly showcases everything my mama gave me—is now covered in what looks like a combination of blue cheese sauce, buffalo wing grease, and potentially a side of guac. None of which can be fixed with a quick dab job in the bathroom.
I’m standing by the kitchen sink, busying myself with the accumulated dishes, when a round-bellied Skye walks in, carrying a tray now devoid of the wings. “You need to come to every BBQ, Dee. Seriously, your food is amazing. If I had any room in this tummy, I’d be begging you to make some more.”
I fold the kitchen towel over the rail of her beautiful freestanding oven range and grin over my shoulder. “With a kitchen like this, you’ll be able to whip up gourmet feasts yourself soon.” I nod at her belly. “After you’ve mastered the whole new-mum thing, of course.”
“Yeah. That’ll be a while I think. I’ve still got a few months to go,” she says with a laugh. She walks around the huge kitchen island and stops in front of me. “So, I’m gonna be blunt, ’cause that’s who I am, but also, you know I want to see my friends happy, right?”
I hold my breath, her expression unreadable as I brace myself for a ‘don’t hurt Rhodes’s speech.
Her eyes drop to my shirt. “You need to come with me so we can raid my pre-pregnancy closet and fix up this mess. ’Cause I have it on good authority that Marco, Renee, Jake, and Rhodes are ten minutes away, and as much as that mess you’ve made is adorable, it’s not saying ‘Date me. I’m a catch.’ Besides, I know the Lieutenant well and I’m sure we can find something clean that will get his firehose pumping—so to speak.”
My mouth drops open at her candor, but I’m thankful, because I may have looked well put together when I arrived, but my passion for cooking means I’m now more of a hot mess than a hot blind date.
A few minutes later, we’re shut behind Skye and Cohen’s guest room door and standing in front of a wide double closet filled to the brim with clothes. Skye waves her arm out. “My closet is your closet. It’s not like I’ll be wearing any of this stuff anytime soon. By the way, your video today was hilarious.”
I jut a hip and paint on my best TV presenter smile. “You mean ‘What Not to Eat Before a Date?’ I was going for funny, entertaining, and informative.”
“Well, you definitely succeeded there. Cohen wondered what the hell I was cackling about.”
I give a fake bow. “Pleased to be of service. And holy smokes. This closet is amazing.” I look over my shoulder at Skye. “Do you want to be my sister-wife? Seriously, I’d take a walk on the polyamory side for your wardrobe.”
Skye steps forward and starts flicking through her hangers. “Something tells me your living situation is complicated enough without adding wife-sharing to the mix.”
“Probably true. But I wouldn’t say it’s complicated . . . Maybe just a little different and unexpected.”
She pulls out a white low-cut shirt in one hand and a bright red sleeveless one in the other, her eyes switching between it and me befo
re she shakes her head and puts it back, replacing it with an almost sheer black shirt and nodding to herself. “Unexpected is right. But I respect you and your ex-husband so much for it. I’ve never met him, but Ezra speaks highly of him.”
“Ezra speaks highly of Rhodes too.” I wasn’t planning to garner information from Skye, but now that she’s opened the door, I’m damn well walking inside.
Skye shoots me a wry grin. “Finally! I was starting to think you’d never ask. We’ve only got five minutes, so we’ll have to go with as many questions as possible, rapid-fire style. If I know it, I’ll answer. And while we’re doing that, I’m going to take my growing cankles and sit down on this bed while you choose between prim and proper and a hint of saucy minx underneath,” she says, handing me a white shirt. “Or hot-blooded single woman who’s confident, sexy, and putting myself out there with this black one.”
I shake my head and look between the two tops, knowing exactly which one is more my style, as Skye crosses the room and gets comfortable on the mattress.
I hang the white one back on the rail and start working the buttons of my ruined shirt. “Okay. Is he a serial killer?”
Skye’s head jerks back, a smirk curving her lips. “Unexpected opener. I like it, but nope. Not to my knowledge.”
“Is he a stalker?”
Skye’s brows bunch together. “He’s rather enamored with a certain YouTube food vlogger, but nope. No stalking in his history. He’s new to this dating thing—as in, a newborn.”
That’s surprising. His flirting the other day was far from rusty.
“But the important thing of note is that you’re the first person to capture his interest in the past few years.”
“Good to know we’re on a level playing field then.” I slip the black shirt over my shoulders and turn to face the mirror as I do it up.
“You really are. He’s a single dad, and you’re a single mom, who just happens to live with her ex-husband and have a weirdly healthy, productive, and civil relationship with him.”