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“You’re assuming they’re being honest. And you realize you just said ‘have to meet them’, right?”
“Mmmm,” I agree, chewing. I sidestep his comment about having to meet men. “Last night’s Whiner was definitely less than honest.”
Lila glances over. “How dishonest?”
“Six inches shorter and at least fifteen years older than his profile said.”
Her mouth drops open as Tom leans back, rubbing his hands together. “Do tell.”
I grin at his enthusiastic interest in my riveting dating life. “It started with the usual questions. I asked him to tell me about himself. His name is Chase, and he owns a used car dealership.”
Tom groans as Lila shakes her head. “Seriously?”
“I know. His bio only said he owned his own business. An intentional oversight, no doubt,” I add. “I told him I co-owned a wellness clinic. I asked him to tell me one thing he wanted me to know about himself. His answer was that I was much more attractive in person and that he couldn’t wait to get me naked.”
Tom’s eyebrows lift as his mouth tightens.
“When I said I had PTSD and intimacy issues, his response was – and I quote – ‘So there’s no chance we’re having sex tonight?’”
Tom’s frown deepens.
Lila shakes her head. “What an ass.”
“It gets better. When I informed him I didn’t make a habit of sliding between the sheets with total strangers, he threw down sixty bucks and hooked up with a blonde at the bar.”
I glance at Tom. His jaw muscles flex, but he’s silent. I shrug. “Trust me, he was no great loss. They hadn’t taken our order yet, so the server got a huge tip.”
“This happened before dinner?” Lila's outrage is palpable.
I shrug. “My suffering was short-lived, and I had a lovely glass of red wine. Besides, my cute waiter gave me his number. Not that I’ll call him,” I add. "He just turned twenty-one."
Neither of them point out that I wouldn't have called him anyway.
Tom casts an accusing look at Lila. “I can’t believe you picked this guy.”
I shake my head. “It’s not her fault.” I pull out my phone and open his dating profile. “Chase Roberson. Thirty-five. Black hair, brown eyes. Six one, one hundred eighty pounds. Business owner. Enjoys quiet evenings by a fire and moonlit walks.” I pass him my phone. He gives it a cursory glance and his jaw tightens again. “Now compare that photo to this one.” I retrieve my phone and swipe to a photo I snapped of Mr. Wonderful. He’s leaning on the bar in profile, one hand on the blonde’s ass, his salt-and-pepper hair and pot belly in full view.
“Six one and thirty-five, my ass,” Tom grumbles.
I chuckle and pass the phone to Lila, who makes a face. “What a douche.”
“Like I said, no great loss.”
“At least let me vet these guys,” Tom says. “I grew up with sisters. My jackass radar is strong.”
“It’s fine, Tom. This is a necessary evil. I’m not expecting to find Mr. Right. I’m simply retraining my lizard brain to understand that most guys aren’t a threat, even the jackasses.”
Tom frowns again when I say “necessary evil”, but that’s what this is. I’m not opposed to meeting the right guy eventually, but for now, I’m essentially in desensitization mode. These Winner versus Whiner dinners are the dating equivalent of allergy shots – brief exposures to small doses of an irritant to help the body stop overreacting to their presence. Likewise, I tolerate casual dates in reasonably safe environments to become more comfortable in one-on-one situations with men.
Lila shakes her head. “Chase. What a perfect name for a man whore,” she mutters.
I grin. “My waiter’s comments were far more derogatory and entertaining.”
CHAPTER TWO
MARK
Colonel Sherman and I have decided to recon the areas to our east. Satellite images aren’t revealing much, and sometimes, there’s no substitute for boots on the ground. At dawn, I take a dozen men to scout the area where we’ve seen more activity. The plan is to divide into two teams and check out a couple of the I.S.’s former not-so-secret safehouses. They appear deserted, but this enemy excels at hiding in plain sight. We arrive at first light, and I huddle up with Sergeant Rivers to go over the plans for his team one more time.
