going to do it, aren’t you?”
She jerked her head up to find Melody giving her the slitty-eyed stare. “What?”
“You’re going to go out with him and you’re going to let the poor man go on believing my baby is yours.”
The sheer dramatics had Monica rolling her eyes. “How have you never added theater to your artsy-fartsy repertoire?”
“Stage fright,” Mel answered without missing a beat.
“Listen, I’m only going to have dinner with him. How often does a girl like me have a shot at a hunk like that?”
“You always sell yourself short,” Mel interjected. “Some guys like the put-together-so-tight-I-squeak thing you have going on.”
“You flatter me so,” Monica replied with a smirk. “I promise I’ll do my best to avoid the topic of kids if at all possible. I just want to see if…”
She trailed off, making a slow circle with her hand and inviting Melody to fill in the blank however she saw fit. As always, her big sis didn’t let her down. “If he can make you squeak?”
“Exactly.”
Melody ran her hand over her bed-rumpled hair and fell into the oversized armchair with a huff. “Well, I’d be a first-class hypocrite to begrudge you hot sex. But I’m fairly sure I’m not supposed to let you use my kid to score. There has to be a section in the mommy handbook about not using your kid as a beard.”
Grinning, Monica caressed the smooth screen of her sleeping phone with the pad of her thumb. “She won’t be helping me score. She’ll be my convenient excuse for why this can’t go on after I’m done lapping him up like a saucer of milk.”
“Saucer of milk?”
“He has the most gorgeous skin.”
“Either way, I’m not sure I should let you use Emma as an excuse, either. There has to be at least a subsection.”
“I won’t be using her, per se,” Monica argued. “She’ll be a teensy part. Barely any…I’m busy. He’s busy. We both have jobs and…other responsibilities. Better we keep things casual, uncomplicated. Right?”
“God, you’re a horrible tramp, and I’m so jealous.” With the speed and agility Monica always forgot Mellow Mel possessed, her sister launched herself from the chair and landed on the couch beside her, bouncing them both. “Call him. I want to hear what he sounds like.”
Monica smirked, but a flush of pleasure warmed her cheeks as the backlit screen sprung to life. “Okay, but you have to swear you won’t say anything. Let me have my way with him this once, and I promise I will never let your daughter pimp me out again.”
“Oh, hush. Don’t say such things about my baby.” She shuddered delicately. “Dial.”
Monica opened her contacts list and swiped his number. As they waited for the call to go through, she turned to her sister. “I’m buying Em a fur coat and a pimp hat for her Halloween costume.”
“Over my dead body.”
“She’ll love the hat. A great big feather and—” Oh crêpes indeed, she thought as a low, melodious baritone cut her off at the knees.
“Hello?” Colm repeated.
“Oh, uh, hi,” she managed at last.
“Please tell me this is Monica.”
“Yeah. Hi.” Beside her, Melody vibrated with barely contained mirth. Monica swatted her sister, scooted away on the sofa, and tried to recover her cool. “Yes, this is Monica.”
Melody was plastered right up against her side. Luckily, Colm was quick on the uptake.
“So, this is a yes,” he said briskly. “I’m taking this as a yes, because you aren’t texting.”
“It’s a yes.”
Mel grabbed her arm and gave a jiggle-squeeze of excitement. When Monica tried to reclaim the rapidly numbing limb, her sister whispered, “He even sounds hot.”
Thankfully, there was a clatter and commotion on the other end of the line. After a bit of fumbling, Colm asked, “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“No, nothing.” She shot Mel a warning glance. “Uh, and yes.”
“Great.”
Funny how a guy could convey a kazillion things in one little word. In her head she heard relief, anticipation, a touch of cockiness, and what she hoped was lust all wrapped up in a single syllable.
“So, listen. I think we established I’m not good at this flirting thing, and I really don’t want to give you a chance to rethink your yes, so I’m going to ask you a few questions, you give me your gut instinct answers. We can save up the rest of our awkward conversation for the actual date. Okay?”
Her sister, no competition for Meryl Streep’s acting awards, clutched her chest with both hands and feigned an exaggerated faint, sprawling across the sofa cushions and sporting a rapturous smile. Monica didn’t need a mirror to know she wore a matching one. She wished she’d beat Melody to the full-body flop.
Settling for a semi-swoon against the arm of the sofa, she closed her eyes and envisioned him propped up against the tree trunk. “Okay.”
“Do you like spicy food? Like Mexican-type stuff?”
Picturing the swanky restaurant specializing in Korean-Mexican fusion she’d read about last week, she sighed. This date was definitely meant to be. “Is there anyone who doesn’t?”
“Do you want me to pick you up, or would you be more comfortable meeting me someplace?”
The thoughtfulness of the question jolted her from her fantasies about Dakgalbi tacos. No pick up meant no drop off, and maybe less opportunity for post-drop off activities. “Uh, well, it doesn’t really matter.”
“I didn’t know what your babysitting situation would be,” he explained.
“Oh, well, Emma will be at my sister’s.” She bit off a yelp of pain when said sister’s heel connected with her ribs. “I can meet you.”
“Great. I know I’m used to eating earlier these days, and I’m sure you are, too. How about we meet outside the Starbucks at Clark and Belmont at about six?”
Monica stifled a snort. Six? She was usually at work at six. And she couldn’t remember exactly where the fusion place was, but she was thinking more Near North or West Town. Of course, where they ate hardly mattered. What mattered was she had a date with the hottest Saturdaddy ever to hit the Armitage Park playground. “Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll see you then.”
The smile in his voice rang through loud and clear, spawning one of her own. “See you.”
The moment she ended the call, Melody pounced. Her sister snatched
