Hesi-Dating

Chapter One

SETH

A close-up of me flashed across the gigantic TV behind the bar. I hunched over my drink to ensure the brim of my black cowboy hat shadowed my face. A swirl of my bourbon distributed water from the melting cubes.

One more? the bartender asked.

No, ma'am. How long had I been here? Oh, crap. Three minutes late for my app date, my first in a decade. Now I'd gone and made her wait. Not a good way to start.

Just as I began to push back my stool, a woman with long brown hair threw her arm across my back in a one-armed hug. Her citrusy scent conjured images of spring. Sorry I'm late.

Who is this?

The woman leaned in as if to kiss me but whispered, Save me from this jerk. Please.

I eyeballed the walking cologne commercial with styled dirty-blonde hair, red facial stubble, and pale eyes stalking behind her. With a wave, I invited her onto the empty stool beside me. Saved you a seat.

You don't know this random dick. You agreed to a second date and now that you're here…

She craned away from the blonde guy's outstretched hand. I said no.

I jumped up to block him from grabbing her. Why are you bothering her when she's clearly not with you? I towered above him by a solid foot.

He shuffled back a step, eyes bulging. You can't be with her. You're too old.

That hurt. I suggest you leave, or would you like to step outside and discuss what happens when you harass a woman?

"Step outside? Like a fight? Over her? He glanced over my shoulder to the TVs. His hands went up as he backed away. I'm so sorry, sir. Meant no harm. Thinking I mistook her for someone else." With a turn he darted into the crowd.

As I resumed my seat, I took in her fitted dark T-shirt and jeans. A silver necklace came to a small sliver at the front with a single string of sparkly beads that fell in a line straight into her shirt between generous boobs.

I swallowed and forced my gaze up and off the…beads.

Wow. How'd you make him run away like that? She squinted into the throng of people crowding the San Diego restaurant bar, which was busy this Friday night. He ran all the way out the front door.

Power of persuasion. He must've seen the rerun of my interview on the big screen behind the bar. Time for a polite good-bye to go meet my date.

I had a strange date with that guy a few months ago. I walked out after five minutes when he suggested a threesome with his girlfriend. He seems to think there's still a chance at that threesome. The woman had long eyelashes, which didn’t look fake.

That's probably the kind of ask that needs at least fifteen minutes.

She chuckled. You're funny.

Listen, I've got to… The words "go meet my date" fizzled in my throat when she fully faced me.

This looked a hell of a lot like my supposed-to-be date, although she was far more attractive in person. Her online profile had said twenty-nine. Now that I sat next to her, that felt young for me. Her skin was tanned in a healthy way that suggested she liked the outdoors but didn’t worship the sun. Long brunette hair rested in waves down her back. She folded her arms, which pushed up her cleavage and brought attention to that delicate strand of sparkly beads between her breasts.

Oops. Look up. Look up.

With a throat clear, I pushed the brim of the cowboy hat back and held out my hand. Seth Briscoe. NewDate App match. I’m thinking you might be Joley.

Her eyes narrowed but took my hand. I thought it was you. The cowboy hat gave you away. Didn’t we agree to meet up front?

I…uh… I took off my hat and ruffled my hair, which I kept long on top to give me something to comb through. Look, ma'am, I’m sorry. I arrived too early. Didn't know if I could get us a table, but they wouldn't seat me until my whole party arrived. I thought I'd get some email work done but lost track of time.

"Did you just ma'am me? Her eyes crinkled in humor even though she didn't laugh. You sure you weren't having second thoughts?"

I'd have tried to tell you in person if I was ditching. This dating thing is all kinds of new to me. Real sorry I screwed it up.

I think your profile said thirty-something, but how old are you? Thirty-five-ish?

Something like that. Add three more years to her guess and ding-ding-ding. That guy labeling me old had me second guessing myself and my decision to try dating again. Sweat trickled down my back.

You can handle this.

I’d been in shootouts without breaking a sweat—except for the time I got shot in the leg two years ago. A painful reminder of that incident flared up by the end of every workday. I'd driven in a few high-speed chases and been threatened by every manner of weapon imaginable, including a roll of wrapping paper and a rattlesnake.

"How can dating be new to you?"

I was married for a while. Haven’t been on a first date in a long time. This is my first time using a dating app. A friend at work had put up my profile without asking and then dared me to go out with the first person I matched with, which happened to be Joley.

Are you recently divorced?

Yes. I compressed my lips. The admission lit up a neon "Loser" sign over my head.

Ah. Her chin rose. She did the cutest back-and-forth lip twitch. That explains how someone like you is single. Getting back in the game must be tough. I've never dated a recently divorced man, nor have I been married, so I don't know. She signaled to the waiter. Two tequila shots, and we'd like some of the artichoke dip, please.

The bartender poured Jose Cuervo into shot glasses.

Joley pushed a shot glass in front of me. Drink.

I don’t do shots.

You do today. Loosen up. Celebrate single life. This doesn’t mean you’re getting laid. You’re in the penalty box for almost standing me up. She pointed at the shot glass. Drink. Then you can tell me what kind of criminal you are.

Why do you think that?

You scared the hell out of that jerk with a look. Only criminals or loan sharks can do that.

"Maybe in the movies they can. I didn't scare him. I reasoned with him."

Sounds like something a loan shark like Chili Palmer might say.

"You know Get Shorty?" I caught myself before making an ageist comment about the movie being too old for her to know about.

I love nineties stuff. I'm into anything movie related that's not horror or serial killer. I don't do those.

Do you like action or romantic comedy? Maybe it wasn't impossible to relate to her.

Depends on my mood. Nothing better than a B-grade Christmas movie after a bad date to renew my belief in cheesy love.

You might have to inherit a hotel in Montana and get caught in a snowstorm for it to become reality.

Her eyes brightened and cheeks flushed. A laugh erupted out of her, bright and mesmerizing. Takes a confident man to admit he watches those made-for-TV cheesy flicks.

I shrugged and swigged the rest of my bourbon.

What happened? Her face sobered. She waved at one of the several TV screens behind the bar that was on a news channel showing a clip from earlier today with a lot of cops on the highway. Looks like something serious.

A high-speed chase led to several wrecks. One fatality. When we caught up to the speeder, he had a trunk full of meth. The guy turned out to be one of the higher ups in the Bloods, a gang out of LA. Out of respect for sitting with a woman who I was going to stay with for a while, I put my hat on the counter.

"We? You were involved in that?"

I’m the sheriff. It ranged outside San Diego police jurisdiction. We had to involve the DEA and highway patrol. It was a mess.

"You’re the sheriff of San Diego County? She tilted her head as if pondering. You’re joking, right?"

Does that mean you didn’t vote for me?

I might’ve voted for you. You have a cool name, Seth Briscoe. If I knew you were this hot, I’d have checked the box next to your name for sure. You do have a good smile. Are you really the sheriff or are you pulling my leg?

Want to see my badge?

No, I'm good. I believe you. She didn't sound like she believed me.

You can search me online me if you want.

I might do that later. Something guarded had gone up on her face as if knowing what I did was a threat. Maybe she had a history.

I didn't background check you or anything. That's a creepy misuse of resources. Plus, I don't know your last name.

You're a better person than me. If I had access to that information and could do a check on everyone I dated before I went out, I would. Last name is Krieger.

Would I find something bad if I checked on you? I shouldn't have asked that. Now she looked even more spooked. Damn, I was bad at dating small talk.

I have a few points on my license for speeding and running a red light or two. Nothing major.

To lighten the mood, I asked, Your criteria for voting for someone is a cool name and being hot?

Why not? She fiddled with a bracelet on her right wrist. I'm not into politics, but I feel it’s my patriotic duty to vote. How long have you been sheriff?

Four years. I was a detective and deputy before that.

Being the one in charge seems like it’d come with a lot of responsibility. How do you have time for dating?

Don’t really. But the therapist I’m required by work to see thinks it'll help me get in a better head space.

High-speed chases and gang leaders. Sounds like a dangerous job. She busied herself with rotating the shot glass as if thinking about drinking.

This woman's natural self-assurance fascinated me. I’m real sorry you feel like I stood you up. I was on my way up front. I swear.

It all worked out. Her lips tilted upward. I found you.

I wouldn't have done that to you. No show, I mean. I traced a scratch on the bar counter. To be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready for…all that goes with this yet.

Hey. She touched my forearm again and waited until I met her gaze. Your life got rocked by divorce. That gives you a free pass on feeling off on your first date.

I met her gaze and tried to nod but got caught up in staring at her luminous gray eyes. There were shadows in there that matured her far beyond her years.

I'm sure it'll get better. She gave me an encouraging smile. Dating is hard even when you haven’t been through a relationship catastrophe like divorce. Her delicate fingers closed over my hand. The light pressure felt good, supportive. It unlocked all the inner turmoil I’d hidden for months. Relax, Sheriff. We're not about to start anything serious. No pressure. We're just two adults having drinks and an appetizer for a few minutes in our lives.

Pressure lifted off me.

The need to explain why my marriage ended bubbled out of me, which was weird. I didn't talk about this to anyone. It wasn't my ex's fault things fell apart. So many people at work needed me to stay focused. The job ate up all my attention and turned me into someone I didn’t want to be. I was always at work and walled off at home. Stop rambling. But the verbal vomit wouldn't stop. Things I hadn’t spilled in therapy whooshed out. One little hand touch was all it took, or maybe this seemingly supportive woman was magical. I was so busy trying to protect my staff and keep peace between people in the community that I lost everything at home. Since the divorce work has been one thing after another—especially after the church shooting at Solana Beach.

Tell me you weren’t involved…that you didn’t have to see those poor children…

The memory would haunt me for the rest of my life. I'd been on scene early. My desperate CPR on a tiny girl failed. I didn’t answer Joley but held her gaze, finding no criticism or pity in her eyes. The depth of understanding I saw startled me, but perhaps this was me reading too much into her look. An expansive feeling settled deep in my chest.

Anyone would feel lost after something like that. I don't know how you deal with awfulness like that. She nodded toward the TV, which was still showing the flashing lights on the highway from earlier today. Says a lot about you, being able to keep it together after something like that and then go on a date. Her hand squeezed mine and lifted away.

I missed the touch.

What do you do for work? I asked, desperate to get my attention off the fact I wanted her to hold my hand again. I tried to guess her job. Maybe sales?

I’m in dental hygienist school at night. During the day I work to pay tuition. I started a new job a few weeks ago as a front desk host at Sten Corp, which is a few blocks north of here. It's an investment firm that owns one of the high-rise buildings downtown.

You like teeth?

She nibbled on her bottom lip. I’m about forty percent sure I do. If I pass, the end job will be respectable and will come with decent benefits.

This new front desk job isn’t what you thought it’d be?

I thought it’d be more… She gazed at the TVs. I don’t know. It pays well, and there’s potential for promotion. She glanced my way. I’ll stick it out for a while. Not like I'm in it for a career. My supervisor hit on me today, which stinks. I had to shoot him down. Relationships at work are a no for me, but I think it’s going to be a problem.

Artichoke dip and chips arrived.

She used a chip to scoop up a chunk of cheesy dip. The dip at this place is the only reason to come here. You've got to try it. So, how long have you been divorced?

I rubbed the back of my neck. Officially about a month, but we were separated for eighteen months. I thought once we had our final mediation it'd be done, but we’re still in negotiation over the house. She said she didn't want it, but now she does.

Were you married a long time?

Eight years.

Any kids?

I shook my head.

Why not? Her eyebrows rose.

I shrugged. Wasn’t in the cards, I guess.

She waved a chip at me. That came off judgy. Sorry. She scrunched up her face. It surprises me you don't have kids. You’re prime parental age. You have a classy but stressful job. You’re hot as hell. I bet you’re a hot potato in bed. That means at some point there’s bound to be a close call or something to prompt the baby talk.

"A hot potato? My face hurt from grinning. Don’t think I’ve ever been called that."

I can tell you know your way around a bedroom. It's in the hands. She squinted at me with a deep look as if reading my soul. Had to be your ex who didn’t want kids and then she left you. Seems like with the right girl, and you being a relationship man who can probably pull off hot sex, you’d roll with kids if it happened.

I snapped my mouth closed when I realized it hung open. No woman had ever put me and hot sex in the same sentence. No one suggested the sex would be so hot birth control might fail. I’d only been with a few women before I met Kara and got married. In the past, I tended toward conservative women who were more on the introverted spectrum. Nothing like Joley.

Do you want your ex back? Joley traced a crack in the countertop before glancing up.

Damn, this woman was blunt.

She tilted her head to the side. Are you feeling guilty about being on a date while still pining for her and that someday-in-the-future kid? Is it holding you back from putting yourself out there?

No. It’s over for sure. I stared sightlessly at a few cracks in the countertop. She cheated on me with my best friend.

Why don't you sell your part of the house to her or sell it outright and split the money? Then you can move on. It’s just a thing tying you to her. It's dragging out the hurt. You can get a new place. A better place that doesn't have all the memories of the past. She swiped a new chip through the dip. "Time to find out what else is out there. Who else is out there. What’re you looking for right now? A rebound hookup, perhaps? She quickly added, Not us. We're just talking and eating."

I’m not sure about dating again. This woman was so much wiser than her years. Insightful. Beautiful. And crazy that she got me to open up this fast when even my therapist hadn't gotten any of that out of me over the past year.

I respect you knowing you're not ready right now. She dipped a chip and handed it to me, wiggling it until I accepted it. I think you're a person who can’t separate sex from commitment. That's not a bad thing, but important to understand about yourself. You still should have some meaningless sex to erase the past and start over. She chuckled. Don't look at me like I'm volunteering. Just giving some advice.

My eyes dipped to her chest before I caught myself.

She sorted through chips while her lips turned upward into a mischievous grin. The girls are devious brats. It's okay for you to look at them.

Sorry. I cleared my throat before trying my first dip-covered chip. Mmm. That is good.

Told you. Her grin lit up her face and had me smiling back.

I’m not looking for anything serious right now.

Me either. You decided to give app dating a chance, which means it's not a for-sure no on you being open to something.

Two women pushed against me on my left as they tried to fit into the one empty bar seat.

Excuse us, one of them slurred. Oh, my God. Aren't you the sheriff? The blonde elbowed her friend. Carrie, it's the cop on Insta I told you to follow. I'm sure of it.

I stiffened, dreading where this was going. I used to be able to say "I'm married," but now I had to figure out how to duck out of whatever proposition was about to come my way without hurting feelings.

The one named Carrie said, Are you here alone? Want to join us?

Joley leaned around me to address the woman. It's not him. He gets mixed up with the sheriff all the time. This is Nate, not Seth. He's ten times hotter than the sheriff guy, and he's with me.

I don't know. You sure look like him, Carrie said while scrolling on her phone. I hoped she wasn't about to show-and-tell social posts my department's PR coordinator posted.

Hon, why don't we take off? Joley asked.

Sure. I put a few twenties on the counter beneath the dip plate and took her hand.

Outside, she let go of my hand.

Sorry about holding hands all the way out of the building. I thought it'd help with the ruse. My apology fell flat.

We're good.

You didn't need to rescue me from those ladies.

Sure I did. You helped me out. Only seemed fair I do likewise. She bumped her shoulder into mine. It's okay. Lighten up.

I realized I’d missed that she wore heeled boots with her skintight jeans. The shoes gave her an extra inch or two, which brought her up to my shoulders. Even with the extra height, I felt so much taller than her.

I pushed back the brim of my hat. I’d do it again for you if you needed it.

She smiled. I believe you would.

A current hummed between us. An undeniable connection. I couldn’t remember a moment like this when I wanted to bury my hands in a woman’s hair and discover the taste of her lips. In past dating experiences, I had all the romance planned out in my head well ahead of time. Right now, I was running on spontaneity, which wasn’t one of my strengths when it came to relationships of the past. Maybe it was time I tried something different.

She pulled cash out of her mini-purse and held it out.

That's too much.

At least go halvsies. She shook the bills.

Keep it. Call it a thank you for making my first date in a long time memorable.

She nibbled on her lip, an endearing quirk. Okay, thanks. Walk me to my car. Then we’ll say goodbye.

We strolled up the hill away from the restaurant in silence, me slowing my long strides to allow her to keep up. The sound of my slightly uneven gait in cowboy boots, the slight scuffing of my right leg in comparison to the left, the one that had been shot, rang out in the silence between us. She'd notice.

I slow-released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding when she didn't say a word as we made our way up the hill.

With us almost to the point of saying goodbye, I felt a sense of desperation not to end the date. There’d been no one I'd talked to like this in forever. No one who saved me without asking for something in return. No one as insightful and refreshing. I lost my wife and the guy I considered my closest friend at the same time last year. In retrospect, neither of them had ever sat and just talked to me without judgement like Joley did tonight.

She slowed next to a crookedly parked gray Honda sedan. The butt of the car stuck out at an odd angle. In the light cast from a streetlight, I caught her cheek flush when she noticed me checking out the parking job.

So I can’t parallel park. She lowered her voice to a whisper. Please don’t tell the DMV.

My lips are sealed. I held back a smile.

We stared at each other as if searching for words. Need powered through me. Need to keep talking to her. Need to feel everything with her. To touch her, kiss her—hell, I wanted physical reassurance that the electric attraction I felt was real. Maybe it’d be like this with any woman I dated from now on?

She cocked her head. That little smile was back on her lips. We’re in different mental places right now. You’re not ready for me. Hot sex potential aside, you’re too messed up over your divorce for you and me to…

I moved into her space to cut her off and leaned in until my lips were a fraction of an inch from hers. The pants of each of her breaths tickled my