Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“How many marriages have you been through?” Ehren asked with a smirk.
“None, thank you very much. Watching my father’s and my older brother’s dating track records has made me skittish about dating.”
“And yet you sat down with a total stranger,” Ehren taunted.
Stephen shrugged. It had been terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. His palms had been sweaty and his heart had been racing. Ehren could have called him out as a fraud or a creepy stalker. No way he would have been able to show his face in his favorite restaurant again. “True. I might be cautious about dating, but I know I still have to put myself out there and take chances.”
Ehren heaved a heavy sigh and returned his gaze to his beer. He rotated the glass on the table, frowning at it. “Yeah, that’s true. But you get tired of the disappointment and fear of getting stomped on by someone new. So, you return to something that’s known. There’s no surprise when they stomp on you.”
“Is that what happened tonight?” Stephen asked gently. He’d mentally told himself he wasn’t going to prod this man into giving up his secrets, but Ehren looked like he needed to talk. Even if they never saw each other after this night, it didn’t hurt to be an ear willing to listen and help him heal.
A noise left him that sounded frustrated and sad. “Yeah. I’d just gotten back into town. My uncle recently passed away and he left me his estate. I had to fly to Ankara to deal with that shit. When I got home, my ex, Dave, called saying he wanted to get together for dinner and talk, which is usually his code for wanting to try dating again.” Ehren made another noise and shook his head. “So stupid. I knew it was a big mistake, but I didn’t want to be alone tonight. I thought it would be nice to talk to someone, see a familiar face.”
Stephen covered Ehren’s hands with one of his and squeezed. “Stop right there,” he said firmly. “It sounds to me that you’ve had a rough, emotionally draining few days. You’re vulnerable and needed something positive. Your brain knows Dave is a mistake, but your emotional needs trumped your brain in this instance. Don’t punish yourself for being human.”
“I fucking knew better,” Ehren muttered.
“But it worked out, because now I’m having dinner with you,” Stephen teased, trying to bring the lightness to Ehren’s eyes.
The smile returned, but not at full strength. Not surprising. The poor guy was dealing with a death in the family, exhausting travel, and a draining ex. All of that effectively put the brakes on any plans Stephen might have had for a bedroom-style dessert after dinner or even a good-night kiss. He would not take advantage of Ehren while he was emotionally vulnerable.
“Thanks,” Cutie murmured.
“Do you have any close friends you can call if you’re feeling bad?”
Ehren nodded and sighed. “Yeah, Kimi and a few others. I should have called them the second I heard Dave’s voice mail. They are going to give me such shit when I tell them Dave stood me up.” But there was a hint of a smile when he spoke, so at least these were loving friends who watched out for Ehren.
“I’m glad you have them. If this Dave can’t meet you for a date that he sets up, he’s not worth your time. Especially if he can’t even call or text.”
Ehren’s smile broadened. “You’re a natural at this.”
This time, Stephen’s eyes dropped to his beer. “I’ve had some practice.” Or, as his brother Charlie would put it, Stephen was a natural meddler. Even before getting his degree, he’d been great at giving advice. Shit at following his own advice.
When Stephen looked up, it was to find Ehren staring at him with narrowed eyes as if he were trying to peer inside his brain.
“Are you, like, a social worker?”
“Psychiatrist, actually. Mostly pediatrics, but I also specialize in mood disorders.”
Ehren’s mouth fell open and he leaned forward. “Psychiatrist as in an actual doctor? MD?”
Stephen nodded cautiously. “Dr. Stephen Sands.”
Ehren laughed and thrust one fist into the air. “Yes! You are a total upgrade from Dave.” He leaned forward again, his grin wide. “Dave is a sometimes-employed line cook who dreams of being an artist, actor, chef, rapper, or supermodel. It just kind of depends on what day of the week it is and what TV show he watched last.”
Stephen chuckled. “Well, I have been told that I offer advice when it’s not wanted and psychoanalyze too much. My brother says I’m a meddler.”
“Do you listen to your own advice?”
Stephen winced. “Not nearly often enough.”
Ehren shrugged. “At least you’re human.”
The server arrived with their salads, and they settled into surprisingly easy conversation. Stephen discovered that Ehren worked as a freelance editor and translator. He’d moved to Denver only a couple of years ago after spending a good chunk of his life in New York City.