Page 2 of Wrangled by the Grump

At first, it’d annoyed me. I have rules when it comes to seeing women in general. No attachments, no babies, no promises of forever. I can’t deal with forming an attachment, not after what happened last time, and sparing my heart that kind of pain just seems better than the alternative. I did the love thing once. Got married, tried for kids. We were young, dumb, and in the end, it wasn’t enough.

And because I can’t guarantee attachments, no babies. As much as I saw myself being a dad, I won’t take that risk. I won’t bring a child into this world without stability, and right now, my life is anything but. I work long hours, barely get time off, and for me, it’s enough.

It means no promises of forever, when I know it isn’t a promise that can be kept.

I shake my head as I enter the cafe and make my way to a table as Lina, the head waitress, appears. She gives me her signature smile as she weaves through tables like a pro, and doesn’t blink when I can’t smile in return.

“Your usual, Max?” she asks, cocking her hip as she pulls her order pad from her apron. “Or are you going to spice up your morning coffee with a little pumpkin?” She gives me a wink.

I sigh. “Just the usual, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” she says, maintaining her smile. “One black coffee, bagel with cream cheese and a side of bacon, coming right up.”

As she wanders off to get orders from the other diners, I pull my cell from my pocket and set it down on the table in front of me. Not for the first time, I itch to check the Facebook page of the bar for photos from the night I met Honey. It’s the only thing I think to call her now that I don’t know her name.

Suppose if she wanted more, she’d come to town. I gave her my name, and she knows I work here. She seemed like a smart woman, so if she wanted to find me, I’m sure she would.

That’s what I find most disappointing. That she hasn’t found me. Hasn’t come looking.

Are you surprised though? It was only meant to be a hook up.

Lina returns with my black coffee and bagel, setting them down on the table in front of me. “You going to finally grace us with your presence at the festival?” she asks.

I barely look at her as I reach for the sugar. “Did I last year?”

She snorts. “There’s just somethin’ in the air this year, thought you might have caught it.”

“I get my flu shots religiously,” I mutter, stirring the sugar in, eyes locked on the grey clouds and busy street.

“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about,” she replies, patting me on the shoulder, a laugh hidden in those words. “Enjoy.”

I press my lips together and shake my head. The peace of not thinking about Honey disappears when I notice a woman with long honey-blonde hair walking down the sidewalk. I straighten, heart pounding, but know immediately it’s not her.

I should feel relief, but instead, disappointment hits me hard.

Sighing, I go about finishing my coffee and bagel, doing everything in my power not to look out the window. Around me, conversation picks up about the upcoming festival, and it gives me something else to focus on. If it weren’t for the fact that I usually chose to stay in so the others at the farm could go out and enjoy it, I might actually consider going.

Who am I kidding? Unless I had a honey-blonde on my arm to take to the fall fest, I wouldn’t step foot inside the mass of Halloween crap.

I drop cash on the table for Lina, grab my coat, and shuffle out of my booth. Once again, my gaze strays to the street. Like I have been the last few months, I search for her in the town I’ve called home since I walked away from my marriage. I even hold my breath in hope the little spitfire might appear.

I shouldn’t feel disappointed when she doesn’t. Same thing, every week.

Something in the air my ass. Snorting, I leave the warm cafe and step out into the cool, fall morning. Rays of sunlight try to break through the thick cloud cover, but whatever weather is coming in won’t let the sun free. The smell of rain is heavy in the air, but no matter how hard the clouds try, nothing comes.

A small part of me wishes for the rain. It creates an easy distraction, and I’ll be forced to stop thinking about the woman. But it appears the universe has other things in mind.

Just wish it would give me the one thing I wanted right now.

Her.

2

WINNIE

Ihuff, the cinnamon roll—oh, the ooey, gooey cinnamon roll of my dreams—balancing precariously on my stomach. I swear, just yesterday the bump could easily be hidden. But right now, it’s a glaring, obvious, and frighteningly real thing I need to deal with.

But first? Parasite wants cinnamon roll.