Counting on You (Amarillo Sour, #1) Page 11

  Seemingly reading her mind, Ian appeared with a fresh glass of water.

  “We have a bit of time before number three arrives. Want to check out the beer garden?”

  Nodding as she rubbed her temples, she allowed him to guide her outside. For being called a garden, it didn’t have much in the way of actual plants. More like a covered, fenced-in patio, the cushions and chairs were at least artfully arranged. They seemed to invite bar patrons to get into philosophical debates, like whether or not chunky peanut butter was superior to creamy or what team had the best chance of winning the World Series. The kinds of deep, meaningful conversations people had when they were a few drinks into the night.

  Somehow, Ian secured two seats together. She told him about date number two, and as expected, he laughed.

  “So, you’re not going to take him up on the offer to meet his mom?”

  “That’s a no, though I might be making a mistake.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “If he wants to introduce me to his mom, I’m guessing he’d be up for going to my reunion.”

  Ian’s eyes crinkled around the edges. “You’re right. There’s still time to contact him later if you change your mind.”

  “There is, but I won’t.” Even with the looming deadline, she wasn’t willing to play with someone’s earnest emotions just to get a date. “Only two more weeks . . .”

  She hadn’t meant to bring up the deadline. It sounded too pitiful, too desperate.

  Ian didn’t call her on it, though. He just nodded sympathetically. “I know we wanted to keep tomorrow night clear, but we could schedule a couple meetups if you wanted.”

  She was already shaking her head. “You need to put in some time at the office, and I have some last-minute details to sort out before Career Day.”

  This was her first year chairing the day-long event to introduce tenth grade students to different job opportunities. After Nina had raised the bar last year, Haleigh wanted to make sure it ran at least as well.

  “I could clear some room—”

  “Thank you.” She covered his hand to gently silence him. “How about we see how this one goes? We could schedule something midweek if it comes down to it.”

  She’d meet her twelve-match minimum then. If her next couple of dates weren’t matches, Ian would come through for her. There was nothing forcing him beyond his word, but she’d come to trust it.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  She met his steady gaze. It was filled with sincerity. Compassion. Something else she couldn’t quite place. The light blue pierced right through her heart. Again, she found herself thinking it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if her next date turned out to be a bust.

  No. She couldn’t go there. Not when she was minutes away from meeting another first date.

  His thoughts were also on Bachelor Number Three. “What does this guy do for a living?”

  “Marketing. I think. Or this one might be a firefighter.” Or was this the building contractor? It had been easy keeping track of everyone the first week, but now the men were jumbling in her head. “I’m almost positive his name is Nick, though.”

  “He’ll tell you his name and job soon enough. Plus, you can fake it. ‘Hey, you.’” He raised his voice a few octaves in a horrible impression of her, or any human for that matter. When she glared, he added a strangled giggle. “‘That’s interesting. Tell me more.’”

  “I don’t sound like that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He had her there. “Not entirely.”

  “You should hear what you sound like after a couple drinks.”

  “What? I don’t sound any different.” At least she hoped not. She was already two drinks in and had another to go. “I’m exceeding my two-drink limit tonight. I hope these guys appreciate what I’m going through for them.”

  “That’s right. You said three makes you buzzed. What would happen after four?”

  “No one wants to see that. I’m not a dancing on the tabletops kind of drunk. I’m the fall off her chair kind. It’s not cute.”

  “We’ll see. You’re becoming a regular lush.” Ian glanced up, and the grin suddenly fell from his face. He groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

  A jolt of panic slicing through her, Haleigh turned to find the source of his ire only to come face-to-face with one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. With perfectly coiffed brown hair that seemed to radiate the colors of fall and a pair of blue eyes that seemed to carry secrets, Haleigh found herself speechless.

  Then the woman threw her arms around Ian, and Haleigh lost the power of thought.

  Recovering enough to raise his arm to give the other woman a light pat on the back, he gave Haleigh a nervous look over her shoulder.

  “Taylor.” He extracted himself carefully from her hold. “I’d like to introduce you to—”

  “You must be Haleigh.” The woman spun around and grabbed Haleigh’s hand in both of hers. “Ian has told me so much about you. I feel like I know you already.”

  “Taylor and I work together,” he explained. “She’s the marketing director.”

  Then, in either an eager bid to be hospitable or to escape, he offered to get them both fresh drinks. Taylor blew him a kiss and faced Haleigh again, eyes sparkling.

  It wasn’t any of her business, but she couldn’t resist asking. “Are you and Ian—”

  “Together? God, no.” Taylor wrinkled her nose. “He’s like a brother to me.”

  Haleigh released a breath. Good. She could nip any jealousy in the bud before it became a thing. She’d never been the jealous type. Even with everything that went on with Greg, she’d never suspected him of being anything but faithful.

  Though, in light of later revelations, maybe she should have.

  “Besides,” Taylor continued, “he’s always been all about his work. Married to his computer. Who has time to get between a guy and his code?”

  “It’s a lot of work to be at the top of your game.”

  “You said it. If it wasn’t for this bar—and this little social experiment you two are conducting—I’m not sure the guy would ever leave the office.” Taylor nudged her playfully. “Good on you for getting him out to live a little. Even if living means studying your dates and reporting back.”

  The sinking pit in her stomach returned. Of course, Ian was only there to test out his product and see it in action. He’d never told her otherwise. He’d never pretended it was anything different. She wasn’t sure why that bothered her. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t quite push that sick, empty feeling away.

  Still, Ian was her . . . Well what was he? Was he her friend? Her mentor? Her handler for the wild and crazy world of online dating? She might not be able to put a label on it, but somehow, in only a matter of weeks, Ian had come to be an important figure in her life. He mattered.

  Suddenly drained, she wished she hadn’t booked a third date. She wanted to go home to curl up with Rudy and some mindless binge-watching on Netflix. At least Bachelor Number Three gave her an out from this conversation.

  “I should probably get back in there.”

  “Time for another round?” When Haleigh raised an eyebrow, Taylor patted her on the shoulder. “I know all about how you’ve lined up these dates. Ian and I are kind of partners in crime with this whole presentation to the investors.”

  Haleigh wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but she didn’t have the bandwidth to find out.

  “I’ll go in and find Ian, but then I need to get out.” Taylor smirked. “I have a date of my own.”

  And she’d probably managed to score the date without the help of an app or a coach. Everyone in the world really was better at dating than her.

  She’d barely settled into her seat and sipped her fresh water when Bachelor Number Three arrived. With thick dark hair that ran a bit long, he looked like he’d stepped out of a photo shoot for shampoo. Catching her stare, he flashed a grin
. Did he have a dimple? That might have to upgrade him from hair model to man-of-every-dream-from-now-on status.

  As he approached, she couldn’t help but notice that his black shirt stretched across his chest and clung to his shoulders. She nearly dropped her keys and sent the distress call to Sidney to make sure she wasn’t imagining him.

  She rose and extended her hand. It hit the brick wall that was his chest when he pulled her in for a casual embrace. It was like hugging a rock. A warm, firm rock that smelled like warm cinnamon and citrus on leather. Her eyes drooped for a second.

  Date three released her, and she nearly clung to him but regained her footing before falling over.

  “Great to meet you at last.” He helped her back onto her barstool before taking his. “I’m glad you could work around my shift. I know the firefighter’s schedule can be complicated with the two days on two days off routine.”

  He flashed his grin again. She’d lose her keys in that dimple if she wasn’t careful.

  Sidney appeared at the table, accidentally shaking it in her haste to reach them. “Who’s your friend?”

  “I’m Nick.” He offered his hand.

  Nick the firefighter. That jogged her memory of their earlier messages. He was a fellow dog lover. The station’s lab lived with him. He also liked running. His mom was a teacher, and he taught elementary students to stop, drop, and roll at presentations a couple times a year.

  She wouldn’t forget any of that anytime soon. She might not remember anything else about anyone else ever again.

  “What are we drinking tonight?” he asked.

  “Pinot?” That might have been the first word she’d managed since he’d walked through the door.

  “Sounds good. Let’s make it two.” He flashed his smile at the bartender. “Two pinot noirs, please.”

  Her heart thudded. In almost a dozen dates, he was the first to drink wine with her. This had to be a dream. Or destiny. She didn’t want to jinx this, but she might have found her date to the reunion. Strong, charming, and sweet, he was everything Greg was not. Wouldn’t that show her classmates?

  He was just about perfect. Or at least he seemed perfect at being perfect. And now, for the first time since the first night, she was worried about screwing this up.

  Chapter Eleven

  The date should have ended already.

  After finishing a drink with Taylor, Ian returned to his spot a few minutes into Haleigh’s third date of the night. Something had happened during the few minutes he’d been inside getting their drinks. Taylor had been convinced Haleigh hated her, and Haleigh hadn’t spared him a glance. Not even when he’d walked past her table to get into position.

  The only acknowledgment she’d given was a quick text response to his wellness check:

  The streak may be over. He’s practically perfect.

  Like Mary Poppins. She’d found Mr. Perfect. After ten busts, she’d finally met someone she liked. Unable to detect much about the guy from this distance, Ian wanted to ask more questions. He started typing a follow-up message, but Sidney’s hand halted him before he hit send.

  “This one might stick. Let her enjoy the moment.”

  Unable to help himself, Ian needed details. He pulled up the man’s profile. His name was Nick. And he was a firefighter. Of course, he was, with those bulging biceps. Ian barely resisted the urge to check his own. He wouldn’t be happy with what he found. Not when he was up against a ladder-climbing, kitten-rescuing, fire-fighting man.

  It was pathetic and juvenile to mope about something like that. Yet there he was, glaring into another pint of beer while Haleigh gave her full attention to Mr. Perfect.

  Haleigh and Mr. Perfect were going on hour two. They’d even ordered another round. For her sake, Ian hoped she’d been kidding when she said more than two glasses of wine turned her into a hot mess. She was well into number four and hadn’t shown any signs of faltering. Yet.

  By all appearances, the date had exceeded expectations thus far. According to Sidney’s reports, they had fallen into easy conversation. They’d discovered mutual interests. He laughed at her jokes. She’d read the FBI thriller series he was hooked on. They binge-watched the same nerdy sci-fi shows.

  They were a solid match. A great success story for XO On Demand and its ability to help like minds meet. Taylor would love this story. The founders would like it. The investors would be impressed.

  So why did Ian want to punch Mr. Perfect every time he touched her hand?

  It was probably the physical contact. The guy couldn’t seem to stop touching her. He brushed some invisible fuzz off her shoulder. He moved a stray strand of hair from her forehead. Every few minutes, he’d caress her hand. Slow down, buddy. It was a little much for their first meeting. It was too fast. Haleigh had the meet and greet part down. She still had a lot to learn about what happened after the first date.

  And about what happened when the date wanted to pull an all-nighter.

  If he planned on getting her tipsy and inviting her back to the firehouse for a private after-hours tour, Ian would bring the wrath of Amarillo Sour down on him. Being a regular at the bar might not guarantee him a seat or cheaper drinks, but it at least gave him backup.

  Sidney might be reading into his defensiveness, but he didn’t have an ulterior motive.

  He didn’t want Haleigh to get hurt. Not by a guy with one thing on his mind. That sounded like something an older brother would say. Maybe that was how he figured into this. After spending this much time together, he’d developed a . . . brotherly affection. He was looking out for her the way he would a sister. If he had one. That was all.

  “Okay, I changed my mind.” Sidney appeared to refill his drink. “I’ll try your app. If it will find me a Nick.”

  “He’s just a guy.”

  “A guy with the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, a body of a linebacker, and the heart of a poet.”

  Ford turned away from the conversation he’d been having with the professor. “Heart of a poet?”

  “He keeps calling the station’s dog his partner. I mean, swoon. He’s completely perfect.”

  Ian’s frown intensified. Of course, the guy seemed perfect. It was date one. If they got to know him, they’d find out he had flaws. He probably burped, farted, and spent every Sunday watching hours of football with his hand down his pants.

  “Oh my gosh, Ian,” Ford said, in his own falsetto. “I heard this guy walks on water.”

  Playing along, Ian spoke in a loud whisper. “Then it’s true. He turns it into wine?”

  “Behold the frailty of masculinity.” Sidney rolled her eyes and walked away with another round of drinks.

  “She’s been saving that line for a while, I bet.” Ford’s eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “Hey . . . I think your girl might need a little help.”

  “Did she message?” Ian checked the screen and saw nothing but the time. It was after eleven. That had to be a record for Haleigh. The idea made him grin. “Or is she sending a signal?”

  This was a date he wouldn’t mind interrupting.

  “No, but she might be in danger of falling out of her chair. And Mr. Perfect’s face is getting pretty red.”

  Almost as if on cue, Haleigh’s laughter rose over the dozens of conversations happening all at once. Arching his neck to get a better view, he caught her slumped over the table and holding onto the edge like it was her safety line.

  Apparently, she hadn’t been kidding when she’d said two drinks—or three if she was well hydrated—were her limit for a night. Springing to his feet, he waded through what appeared to be a corporate retreat on an all-night happy hour. Like he had the night before, Ian reached her side before she could be cast out on the floor. Only this time, it was at the hands of wine instead of a jealous wife.

  “Whoa, there.” He propped her back up. “I’ve got your back.”

  With one arm wrapped around her waist, and the other clutching her hand, Ian righted her up in the chair. He released
his hold from her waist but left her to lean against his side. Running a thumb over her knuckles, he met Mr. Perfect’s glare.

  “Can we help you?” Mr. Perfect’s scowl was fully directed on Ian.

  “Sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Ian. Haleigh’s friend. I just stopped by to say hello.”

  Suddenly unsure of himself, he stuck out his free hand. Mr. Perfect stared it at unmoving, unblinking. When he made no motion to shake the offered hand, Ian let it drop.

  “Everything going okay over here?”

  “We’re fine. Haleigh here seems to be a little . . .”

  “Drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk,” she burst out, suddenly rejoining the conversation. “I’m just a little buzzed.”

  “I think you’re more than a little buzzed.” Ian rubbed her shoulder until a fresh set of stare daggers shot out at him. “Can I get you some water?”

  “That’s only her second glass.” Confusion mingled with irritation on his face. “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s actually my fourth.”

  If possible, the man’s eyes narrowed even more. “You had two drinks before I was here?”

  “With the first two dates.”

  “Two dates?”

  “Oh-my-gosh. I forgot to introduce you.” Sitting up straighter, Haleigh shook her shoulders. “Ian, this is Bachelor Number Three. Or are we calling him Five Point Three? Or should we just say Bachelor Eleven right now to keep it straight?”

  Her seemingly nonsensical ramble seemed to actually somehow make sense to Mr. Perfect. His dark brows drew together. “Three? Eleven? Are you keeping track of her dates?”

  Great. Not only was he big enough to crush Ian with a single blow, but he was perceptive.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Haleigh said. “Ian is just helping me meet men.”

  “Through the app.” Ian squeezed her hand, hoping it might distract her before she said anything else. “She was nervous about meeting strangers. I . . . stick around to make sure she’s safe.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth. Ian wasn’t going to dive into specifics now. Not when something as harmless as that didn’t seem to be sitting well with Mr. Perfect.