Page 39 of Scouting the Single Dad

Weird, right?

Everything is going great, and I’m happy to tag along, blending in as if I were one of these Star Lake residents. All good.

And then it isn’t.

A large gazebo looms ahead of us, where a band has been playing acoustic pop hits, and we almost reach it when a man peels himself from a blond woman.

He’s a tall gym-rat-looking dude. Hair a thick mop on top of his head. Dark five-o’clock shadow. Designer peacoat over a blue plaid flannel shirt.

I know the type. The kind of guy who thinks attention is currency and gets his sense of self-worth from likes on social media. Probably has an account where he posts shirtless gym selfies and talks about gains. Knows he’s good looking and takes advantage.

“Layla.” He grins, pulling the blond along with him. “Hey.”

My jaw sets.

She stills. One heartbeat. Two. The easy set of her shoulders disappears—a recalibration. She turns slowly, professional smile masking something colder.

Weary.

Leery.

“Blake.” Her tone is neutral in a way that tells me she cannot stand the sight of this guy. “Enjoying the festival?”

Blake? Of course his name is Blake.

Douche.

His gaze rakes over her—braided hair, boots, clipboard—with a familiarity that makes my hands curl. “Yeah, it’s not bad. Cute setup.” His eyes flicker over me, disregarding me as a threat. That’s how far up his own ass this guy is. “This the security detail?”

Security detail? Seriously. Does this piece of shit not know who I am?

My name is on a goddamn tent!

I am the Main Goddamn Attraction, For Fuck’s Sake.

Benny shifts closer to me, small and bristling. I feel her shoulder bump against my hip, and I put my arms around her as Blake pulls his companion to his side.

“You remember Dr. Debrick.” His hand slides around her waist.

Layla’s chin dips into a greeting. “Of course.”

“Figured we’d run into you here.” Another once-over as he skims Layla’s body with his beady eyes. “You look . . . the same.”

Was that a dig?

“Gee, thanks.”

Yup. It was.

“Small towns, am I right?” The idiot chuckles as if he’s just told a joke, scanning the crowd with a sneer tugging at his mouth. “Yeah, I don’t know about you, but Paige and I were just talking about dipping out of here next fall and doing a cruise instead.”

A nod. “How fun.”

He continues to ignore me while at the same time shoving his new girlfriend down Layla’s throat—it would be obvious to anyone with half a brain that’s what’s happening right now. He’s trying to make her jealous.

His dumb, raspy voice has a salesman glide I find irritating. He keeps angling Paige like a trophy so Layla has no choice but to look at her, what he probably considers a shinier, sexier, hotter version.

Idiot.