I nodded slowly. “You’d be good at that. Taking care of a family.”

“But you wouldn’t?”

“Nah.”

“How do you know?”

I shrugged. “I just know. I mean, I was supposed to be good at baseball—the best, in fact—and look what happened there. Turns out, I wasn’t shit.”

“Tyler, that’s not true.”

“Sure, it is,” I said, frustrated that she couldn’t see it. “Maybe once upon a time, I was good, maybe I was even close to the best, but it didn’t fucking last. Because nothing lasts. And anyone who says otherwise is a liar.” I picked up my drink and tossed back the last few sips.

April pushed some food around on her plate.

One minute ticked by. Then another.

“Say something,” I demanded, since I’d already been a jerk.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I don’t know whether I want to give you a hug or give you the finger.”

That actually made me laugh. “I vote for the finger.”

She flipped me off and picked up her bourbon. “You know, I thought Sadie might have been exaggerating about you being a grumpy old man. But I’m beginning to believe her.”

Exhaling, I rubbed my face with both hands. “Sorry for the rant. Sometimes I can’t stop myself. And I spend so much time alone, I’m not used to having it affect someone else.”

She leaned closer to me and whispered, “Maybe you wouldn’t be alone so much if you quit all the ranting.”

“I don’t mind being alone,” I said. “In fact, I prefer it.”

She sat up straight again and stuck another olive in her mouth. “You should get a kitten.”

“Hell, no.”

“A puppy?”

“Too hard to train.”

“How about a friend?”

I cocked my head. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I was,” she said, widening her eyes in mock seriousness. “But the job is turning out to be tougher than I thought.”

Laughing, I draped one arm along the top of the booth and looked at her. Was it terrible that I sort of wished she’d suggested a blowjob instead of a kitten? She was so fucking cute. “Giving up on me already, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.” She took another sip of bourbon. “But I do think you need to deal more effectively with your emotions. And I’m just drunk enough to try to help you.”

I groaned. “I think I need another drink.”

Jacie came to the table and I ordered a beer, but April said that since she wanted to leave here on her feet, not her hands and knees, she was definitely good with the half-glass of bourbon she had left. She did, however, put in an order for cherry ice cream with amaretto sauce, which she said was her favorite dessert on the menu. “I’ll share it with you,” she promised, briefly putting her hand on my thigh.

My cock jumped, and I moved a little farther away from her. The last thing I needed was an erection right now. I was determined to be a gentleman tonight.

But she wasn’t making it easy.

While she was waiting for her dessert to arrive, she touched my leg at least three more times, leaned close enough for me to accidentally look down her blouse again, and gave me several enticing whiffs of her perfume. And she must have kicked off her shoes, because she’d tucked her legs beneath her and was sitting on her bare heels—exactly the way she used to sit on the chairs at our kitchen table when we’d do homework. Then later I’d jerk off thinking about her getting up from her chair and straddling my lap.

Which was not a helpful thought at the moment.

At one point, she checked her phone and started laughing as she typed something.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“I forgot that I asked Chloe to check in on me earlier, in case I needed an escape hatch. I just looked at my phone and she’s texted and called like five times to make sure I’m okay. I’m letting her know I’m fine.”

“An escape hatch?”

“Yeah, you know . . .” She tossed her phone back into her bag. “In case you turned out to be a jerk or a pervert, I would have an excuse to leave.”

“Ah.”

“But since you’re not a jerk, I didn’t need to escape.”

I cocked a brow at her. “The jury is still out on pervert?”

She lifted her shoulders and grinned mischievously. “The night is young.”

I gulped my ice water.

When my beer and her dessert arrived, April clapped her hands like an excited kid, grabbed a spoon, and dug into the mound of pinkish ice cream with caramel-colored sauce dripping down the sides. She moaned at the first taste, her eyes closing. “Oh God, this is so good.” Then she moaned again, even louder this time.

Jesus, that sound. It was sexy as fuck.

She stuck her spoon into the ice cream again, but this time lifted it to my mouth. “You have to try this. And don’t say no.”

I set my glass down and let her feed me a bite. She was right—it was delicious. And it would be even more delicious if I could lick it off her naked body.

“Good, right?” she asked happily. She took another bite for herself, moaned again, then licked both sides of the spoon, while I suffered in agony watching her.

Christ.

Was she doing this on purpose?

I shifted on the booth seat, trying not to think about my tongue on her skin while surreptitiously adjusting the giant bulge in my pants. Thankfully, she was either too buzzed or too obsessed with her ice cream to notice.

“The cherries in this are from our farm,” she announced.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Want another bite?” Then she started to laugh. “I know how much you like local cherries.”

Tipping back my beer, I narrowed my eyes at her, then set the bottle down with a thunk. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “You liked mine, didn’t you?”

“What?”

April laughed even harder and sucked on the spoon.

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” I sat up straight and blinked at her. “Are you serious? You were a virgin that night?”

“Hush,” she said, looking around, although we were practically the only people left in the dining room. “Yes. I was pure as the driven snow before you got me in the back of your truck.”

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know, obviously.”

“God, now I feel like an even bigger prick.”

“Tyler, I can’t be the only rookie you initiated.”

“You were different.”

That made her smile. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have done it?”

I thought for a second. “Nah, I probably still would have done it. But I might have tried to make it last a little longer.”

She dug into the ice cream again. “It was pretty quick.”

I groaned again.

“But you were a gentleman, as far as I was concerned. And it’s not like I knew any better back then.” She started laughing. “I mean, after all, your nickname was ‘The Rifle.’”