“Because.”
“You don’t think I’m a good writer? I’m good.” He paused. “I’m good enough. Log on.”
She just looked at him.
“Lex. You’re my best friend. Trust me.”
Lexie did trust him, that was the thing. He was a good man.
She logged on. Her profile populated the screen.
“There you are!” Coin smiled and pulled the computer toward him.
Then he paused.
A moment passed. And another. Coin stared at the picture of Lexie smiling, that old rose behind her, the rose that matched her tattoo.
“That’s you.”
“Yeah,” she said.
Coin sucked in a breath. “Oh, Lexie. Dude. Crap.”
Megan entered dispatch, her dark hair sticking straight up.
“It’s fine, Coin. It is what it is. Find me a love match, okay?” She didn’t look behind her as she left the room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Coin kicked his recliner back, his laptop balanced on his knees.
He was a monumental jerk. An idiot of mountainous proportions.
Coin had flipped past her picture while he’d been dismissing women as not right for him.
The irony of it.
And the actual truth was that he’d seen the photo and while he hadn’t really looked at it—not close enough to recognize her—he’d been drawn to it. Almost enough to stop and look some more. But he’d kind of thought it reminded him of Lexie, and that would just be weird, scamming on a Lexie-lookalike while Lexie sat next to him. So he’d kept clicking instead of noticing—like any other person with a correctly-working brain would have—that it was her.
He’d been chased out of the dorm by the snoring. Eight people was a lot of people to sleep in one room, even if that room was separated by head-height walls. Most of the guys were all right, but Mazanti snored his head off when his allergies were bad. Guaranteed, tomorrow Tox would make him take his allergy medication before bed.
It was fine, anyway. Coin wasn’t sleeping anytime soon. He had a mission, and he’d accomplish it tonight. He owed her that. Heck, the truth was that Lexie deserved happiness, plain and simple. And if he could help her find that, he’d be happy.
This guy. Tall, handsome. Would he be perfect for her? He was a bricklayer, so probably not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he volunteered in the summers for a Mexican orphanage. Great, a saint. Coin growled and then kept clicking. Punishing himself for being such a weasel earlier.
Man, look at that guy. Coin supposed a woman would find him good looking, if she liked big white teeth and a smile that looked like he’d just won a ski competition. Almost every photo of the man was in the snow. Lexie wouldn’t like that. She hated being cold. At work, she was usually cuddled up to her space heater. Once she’d even caught her department-issued blue sweater on fire when she’d hung it off the back of her chair and placed the heater too close. She’d blamed it on the department for buying shoddy uniforms, and the dispatchers had been upgraded to wool sweaters after that, something that he remembered had pleased her no end.
He’d always suspected her of catching it on fire just to get rid of the acrylic, which had really melted more than it had flamed. Coin smiled, and clicked away from the stupid ski bum.
Flip, click, flip. No, no, no. No to the orange man who looked like he fake-baked most of his waking hours. No to the mechanic—nothing wrong with the profession, but the man couldn’t tell the difference between their and they’re, and Lexie would rip his grammar to shreds in a heartbeat. Lexie needed someone genuinely intelligent.
Coin wished for the millionth time that he’d finished college. He’d come so close, but then his family had fallen apart. In his senior year at college, his mother had called him, her voice shaking. She’d asked him to come home, even though it was a three-hour drive
When he’d gotten home after forcing his rattling Plymouth to go as fast as he could make the beater move, he’d found his mother bruised almost beyond recognition. Her cheek was concave, sunken, from where his father had hit her so hard. She’d need three rounds of surgery just to put her face back together.
It had been the first time he’d ever hit his father back. It had felt too good, smashing his fist into his father’s mouth—feeling the pain bloom, flaring up through his knuckles. He’d heard his father’s teeth break. It was about time. By that point, his mother had two bridges in her mouth from the years of abuse. Coin himself had a metal rod in his right arm from the time his father slammed him against the car door and then shoved it closed on him.
During his whole childhood, Coin had hidden from his father, staying quiet, making himself as small as possible. It was the only thing that had ever worked for his mother, and he imitated her until that day his rage was too great, until the day he hit him.
Then he knew if he saw his father again, if he had to look at his mother crying even one more time, he’d end up killing the man. Happily. Gratefully. He could do it with his bare hands. He knew he could, and the knowledge terrified him. Not even the threat of prison scared Coin. Maybe in jail he could hit more people like that with some level of impunity.
He decided to be a cop. He did a couple of ride-alongs with the local police force before seeing the truth—that too many cops became police officers for the exact same reason he was considering it. So that they could exact justice on the street, before any judge or jury could show up.
After he witnessed a police officer he’d considered to be a nice guy deliver a “bonus” hit to the ribs during an arrest, he’d applied to the fire academy. At least if he became a firefighter or a paramedic, he could not only bandage the victims but maybe counsel them on how to get out.
Even though he loved his job, he still regretted the lack of a college diploma. Having that would have made him feel smarter and maybe, if he had the extra brains, he’d know how to do this. How to find the girl of his dreams the perfect guy.
He clicked on the next candidate.
A podiatrist. The dude didn’t look like he looked at feet all day—he looked like a guy who could grill a perfect burger while holding a beer in one hand and kid-wrangling with the other. His ad was spelled correctly. More than that, it was funny and modest at the same time. He poked fun at himself.
Lexie loved people who could laugh at themselves.
Coin stared at the dark TV on the wall. He flexed his fingers. Then he typed. “Hi. My name’s Lexie, and I’d love to get to know you a little more.”
It felt like punishment.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Serena answered Lexie’s knock.
“Finally,” the girl said. “You’re here. Dad’s in his bathroom freaking out about a tie or something. He’s, like, sweating. You have to help him.”
Good. Maybe Coin was as nervous as Lexie was. She’d been in a mild state of panic all afternoon leading up to the double date. It didn’t make sense. Lexie was normally good at this stuff. She usually didn’t think about dates until an hour before, and then she went through her closet and pulled on a dress that showed off her rack, and then she’d pulled on a pair of cowboy boots. It took her approximately seven seconds to dress, and she usually felt great. Even if she looked at herself with her mother’s eyes every time she passed a mirror—wide hips, big breasts, too much tummy—she was usually able to silence Mira’s voice in her head, making herself feel comfortable in her skin again.
But today? Why was it that she could handle a regular date just fine, but pair it with another couple, and Lexie was a wreck? She’d gone through her closet and tried on every single dress she had. All of them were wanting in one way or another—the red one was too short, and she’d probably show off her underwear if she sat down. The black polka dot dress was too long and made her look twenty years older. The yellow low-cut dress was too low cut and might get her arrested for indecent exposure. The green and black dress was too high necked, making her look like someone who would hush children in an arcade.
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br /> With seconds to spare to get out of her house and to Coin’s on time, she’d thrown on her favorite outfit. A simple wrap dress—black and red—with her everyday black cowboy boots. She hadn’t wanted to wear it because Coin had seen her in this getup a zillion times. It was her go-to, what she threw on when she didn’t want to think.
But then again, the date wasn’t with Coin, was it?
It was, however, at his house. “You’re asking too much of me,” he’d said, “To not only go on a double date, but to do it in public. You love my backyard.”
It was true, she did. With a sprawling lawn, a covered patio with surround-sound speakers, and a hot tub that sat ten, she’d spent many a night drinking beers with the other members of A shift behind Coin’s house.
He’d continued, “And I love my backyard. We don’t know these people. We need the home team advantage.”
“Because we’re going to play touch football with them?” she’d asked.
He’d brightened. “Yeah! I could totally take a podiatrist.”
Lexie had told him in no uncertain terms that there would be no touch football on a double first date.
Now, Serena turned her head. “Come on. He won’t mind.”
Coin wouldn’t mind if Lexie barged in on him getting ready? She wasn’t sure about that.
“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” She raised the bags. “I have things to put away and get ready, anyway. Want to help?”
Serena nodded and yelled, “Dad! Lexie’s here! Hurry up!”
In the kitchen, Lexie got out the ingredients for her mini caprese salad. “Look, I’m going to skewer all this stuff with toothpicks.”
Serena’s eyes lit up. “I wanna stick things, too.”
Lexie showed Serena how to spear a cherry tomato, then a ball of mozzarella, then a piece of basil. They piled them on a plate. “Later,” Lexie said, “I’ll drizzle them with olive oil and salt.”
Serena lifted one eyebrow just like her father did. “And you’re calling this a salad?”
“Maybe more like an hors d'oeuvre.”
“A what?” Serena looked at her like she’d said a bad word.
“It just means an appetizer.”
Serena thought about this and then seemed to decide it wasn’t important enough to pursue. “So you’re not on the date with my dad tonight, is that right?”
Lexie poked her finger with the toothpick. “Ow. No. Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re sharing a date. I’ll be on a date with a guy, and he’ll be on a date with someone else, and we’ll all hang out together.”
“Me and my friends hang out all day at school. Why isn’t that dating?”
Lexie knew Serena understood what a date was. “What’s eating you, kiddo?”
Serena frowned. “I just don’t want …” She trailed off and sighed heavily.
“You don’t want him to date? Is this about your mom?”
“No.” Serena looked at Lexie as if she were stupid, which Lexie had to admit, she felt at that moment. “It’s not about my mom. It’s about my dad. He’s isn’t ready.”
Oh, that was cute. Lexie smiled. “You want to take care of him.”
Another long sigh. “It’s not that. I just don’t want …”
Lexie took a guess. “You don’t want him to get hurt.”
Serena stared at the cherry tomato she’d just poked multiple times. “When Mom and him broke up, he was sad for like fifty years.”
“Well. Maybe not that long, considering you’re eleven, but—”
“You know what I mean. He’s not that tough.”
The words were surprising, coming from Serena. Didn’t all little girls think their fathers were gods? Tough as nails?
Serene nodded somberly. “He sees people actually die, did you know that?”
“Yeah.” Lexie wanted to touch the girl, to reach out and put her hand on her shoulder, but they didn’t have that kind of relationship. They were buddies. Not huggers. “I know. It’s something I’m glad I never have to do.”
“Because you’re on the phone.”
“Yep.” Lexie heard people die. That wasn’t uncommon. But she never had to see it.
“So I know that makes him strong,” said Serena.
Lexie felt a warm glow in her stomach. That was Coin, all right. “What’s worrying you, then?”
“No one is going to be good enough for him.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s someone out there.” Really, Lexie wasn’t at all convinced of that herself. “How about this? I promise I’ll vet whoever your dad dates.” She’d been planning on doing that, anyway.
“Vet? Like a veterinarian?”
“Different word. It means I’ll test them. Make sure they’re good enough for him.”
Serena’s dark eyes met Lexie’s. In them, she could see Coin’s intensity, and something that was the little girl’s own strength. “Yeah. I guess you’ll do okay at that.”
“Thanks.” It felt strangely reassuring to hear.
“You let me know what you find.”
Lexie saluted smarted. “Wilco.”
The doorbell rang, and Serena grabbed her backpack and ran for it, yelling goodbye at Coin as she went.
The front door slammed.
Lexie poked another tomato with a toothpick.
Coin entered, his hands at his throat wrangling his tie. “Where’d she go?”
“She left.”
“She didn’t even kiss me goodbye,” Coin said sadly.
Lexie needed a knife and reached around Coin to get one out of the drawer. Impulsively, she pressed a kiss against Coin’s cheek. She meant it lightly. A joke. The kiss he didn’t get from his daughter.
But the way it felt—Lexie didn’t see it coming.
Coin’s skin was smooth, as if he’d just shaved. He smelled of shaving cream and something spicy.
He froze when her lips touched his cheek, like she’d turned him to stone. In turn, Lexie stilled, too. Everything went silent except for the blood rushing in Lexie’s ears.
Coin turned his face and met her eyes. They were less than two inches apart. If he leaned forward, or if she did, their lips would touch.
In a low voice, Coin said, “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Lexie felt herself heat, deep, low inside. A shiver danced through her, a quicksilver quake of excitement.
Then nerves took over. She stepped backward, knocking the knife against the counter on accident. “You’re right. I’ll end up cutting off my hand or something.” Lighten the moment. She needed to bring it back to what it always was, two friends, comfortable with each other. Hanging out. Waiting for their respective dates to arrive.
Coin didn’t move with her into that lightness. His eyes held hers, and she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. “Lexie—”
“So I marinated the thai beef all afternoon and it should be ready for you to throw on the grill when they get here. Did you remember to buy the bean sprouts?” She fumbled with the plastic bag on the counter.
Coin leaned forward, placing both hands on the counter. Lexie watched his knuckles whiten as he grasped it. A muscle jumped in his jaw.
Then he exhaled, and it was okay again. “Yeah. In the fridge. What should I do about this friggin’ tie?”
Lexie smiled, trying her best to make it a normal one. “Take it off. You don’t need it.” He looked amazing as he was, in the light blue button-down shirt with thin gray pinstripes. He wore dark gray pants with the creases still in them. “You look great.”
His smoky gaze met hers again. If he did that much more, she’d have to rethink this whole double date thing. How could she flirt with someone else when her friend—her best friend—was pinning her down with that oddly hot stare?
She held up the knife and pointed the tip at him. “Cut it out, dude.”
“What?” Coin blinked as if waking up.
“You’re being weird and I don’t like it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re looking at me funny.”
“Like how?”
She drew a circle in the air with the knife. Honesty was always best. “Like my dress is too low. It’s kind of freaking me out.” She glanced down. “Oh, dang, is it too low?”
Coin cleared his throat and didn’t say anything.
She tugged at the vee of the dress. “Get me a safety pin.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your dress is fine.”
“You’ve seen it a million times,” Lexie said. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Coin seemed to shake himself. “You look cute, that’s all. And maybe I’m nervous.”
“No. Get over that. Right now.” She tapped the cutting board with the knife. “And please give me the mint from that bag. I have things to chop.” He didn’t get to be nervous. She wouldn’t let him. “It’s going to be a great night. I will it to be a great night.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was a terrible night.
Ginger arrived first. She was as beautiful as her picture had been, like someone from a magazine plopped down in his house. She adored her job, in which she took care of a woman with late-stage cancer, and spoke in glowing terms of her family. Her laugh sounded like bells.
Coin loathed her. He preferred people he understood. People who had things wrong with them, who were self-conscious and made mistakes. Perfect people couldn’t be trusted.
Within minutes of stepping through the door, Ginger was in the kitchen, dancing around Lexie like they’d been friends for years, mixing a drink that combined sweet vermouth with mint and bourbon. How did women do that? How did they become best friends within seconds, smiling and laughing with each other as if they were on a date with each other?
Well, shoot. He supposed they kind of were. After all, Lexie had chosen her, right? It was Lexie who’d done the corresponding, who’d sent that first email.
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