scratched his chin and looked down the road.
“Exactly how I feel. I could literally bathe in cheese dip, and it wouldn’t be enough.”
Slade laughed. “Now, that’s something I’d like to see.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. It would cost too much.”
“I’ll just have to make do with my own imagination.”
Erika shook her head. “If imagining me slathered in cheese dip is a turn-on for you, I just might have found my perfect soulmate.”
Slade laughed. “There’s someone for everyone.”
Erika glanced at him quickly as they wandered down a side street toward the pretzel place.
“Do you really believe that?” she asked.
“What?”
“That there’s someone for everyone?”
“Oh, that.” Slade frowned and shrugged. “I’m not sure there is. I used to think that might be the case, but the older I get . . .” His voice trailed off.
Erika nodded. “I can’t really say much about it since I haven’t attempted to date. At least you put yourself out there with Penny.”
Slade laughed. “Oh, Penny. Good old Penny.”
“And here you thought I’d let you forget about her.”
“I’d hoped.” Slade’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
Outdoor heaters dotted the patio at the pretzel hut, and a short line leading up to the ordering stand wove through the tables.
“My treat,” Slade said.
Erika wiggled her brows. “Big spender, I see.”
“If we were on a date, which I don’t think we are . . . ?”
Erika shook her head. “Nope. Not a date.”
“So, if we were on a date, I totally would have upped my game and taken you to the hot dog stand around the bend.”
Erika laughed and sat at a picnic table by a heater. “They don’t have cheese dip.”
“Then it’s good we’re not on a date.”
Erika smiled and nodded. “It’s very good.”
Slade turned around and waited in line while Erika was left to wonder if she’d want to be on a date with Slade.
He was smart, good-looking, funny, and had a heart.
Who apparently lived in Colorado most of the time.
That was more than she could say for the last man she’d dated years ago.
No. That wasn’t true. Scott’s dad was charming and handsome, which was why she fell under his spell.
Ugh. She hated how he’d just infiltrate her thoughts when she was least expecting it. She’d left him nameless on purpose all these years.
Here she was, about to enjoy a pretzel with a new friend, and a person she didn’t even care about any longer shoved his way right into her head.
So, did that mean she did care?
Either way, it was frustrating.
It had been twelve years.
Twelve.
Not months. YEARS.
And she still found herself wondering how she could have been so very duped.
“You look to be in very serious thought,” Slade said as he balanced a tray with a cup of cheese sauce, two large pretzels, and two equally large beers on top of it.
“It’s never a good look for me.” She shook her head and helped him set the tray down so she didn’t lose any cheese. “Don’t the pretzels smell warm and buttery? I wish I knew how to make them like this, but every single time I try, they turn into dried-out and pale, twisted croutons.”
Slade raised his brows. “Do you cook often?”
“I cook all the time. I bake not at all.” She pulled off a piece of pretzel, dunked it in the cheese, and stuffed the gooey mess in her mouth as she closed her eyes.
“Looks like you’re experiencing something special.”
She blinked her eyes open and laughed. “The best I’ve had in a long time.”
Slade’s eyes darkened a shade, and he shook his head. “For someone who isn’t into men, you certainly know what to say.”
Erika rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say I wasn’t into men. I’m not into relationships. They’re too cumbersome. Plus, I haven’t had the best history in that area.”
Slade ripped off a piece of pretzel and dipped it into the cheese sauce. He took a bite and nodded. “This is good.”
“Told ya.” She took another piece of pretzel off and repeated.
“I’m not a great cook, but I can make a mean cupcake,” Slade confessed.
Erika’s brows rose. “A cupcake?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty good with flour.”
“I never would have guessed.”
“Is that so?” He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t look like the baker type?”
“Uh, no. Not really.”
“What type do I look like?” he asked.
“The kind of guy who’d go play some basketball on a Saturday and finish things off with a round of beers with the guys at some local bar.”
Slade scrunched his brows. “Really? That’s disconcerting.”
“What kind of vibe were you trying to give off?”
Slade shrugged.