Graveyard Shift by Jordan Bates
Dating just wasn’t my thing, especially not first dates. So why was it that I was standing on a curb at eight o’clock at night, waiting on a man that was already twenty minutes late. I checked my phone again – two new messages from Tristan.
Stuck in Traffic.
Be there soon.
One, I hated when people didn’t just send everything in one message. I didn’t understand the fascination people had with blowing up ones phone, why couldn’t you just send one text with everything in it?
Two, it was a Monday night, so what the hell traffic could he be stuck in.
I stuffed my phone back into my purse, annoyed more with myself than with Tristan. I had met him on one of those dating sites, I don’t remember which one.
Swift left. Swipe right. Who cares?
Somehow, I ended up with a message in my inbox and that was about a week ago. I had never intended to go on a date with Tristan, but he begged, so I said yes.
I tapped my foot on the curb and waited for another ten minutes, that was all I was going to give him. I wasn’t going to waste a perfectly good dress for someone who couldn’t even show up on time. I didn’t have much patience for people, not did I like to be around them, but this was one date, so I thought, what the hell.
A beat-up Toyota pickup made it’s way down the road; I heard it before I saw it. It clunked and sputtered to a stop in front of me. I couldn’t hide the scowl on my face if I tried. The only saving grace was the man who got out of it. I had to say, Tristan wasn’t the typical man I went for, as far as personality went – dull as could be and could barely hold a conversation, but he sure was fantastic to look at.
Tall. Tan. Muscles for day. Tattoos wrapped around every visible part of his body.
“April Nicole?” I took a step back when he spoke. The small squeaky voice was not something that I was expecting. I almost didn’t say yes, if anything, this was my one chance to escape. “You look different from your photos.”
My whole body straightened up. I was ready to defend myself, because even though my photos online were from a year ago, didn’t mean I didn’t love the way I looked. My curves were a part of who I was and I loved them to no end. I nudged my glasses up to the bridge of my nose, pushed my side swept dirty blonde hair out of my face, and smoothed my 50’s style dress against my curves. I felt gorgeous and no matter what this man said, I wouldn’t let myself think otherwise.
“Excuse me?” I let my attitude be heard.
“I meant that in a good way!” Tristan took a step towards me, hands in the air, trying to show me that he meant no harm. His right hand was out stretched to me and waited for me to take his hand, and as much as I was just not up for it tonight, I took it. I just had to keep thinking, free food.
—–
“I want to take you somewhere special.” I could barely hear Tristan’s words of the roar of his engine. I made sure to stay centered in my seat and not to touch anything. I had no idea the last time he had cleaned out his car, but I didn’t want to chance anything, like tetanus or rabies.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked my question a little too late as he took the next right turn, down the road leading to the local cemetery. I was frozen in my seat trying to figure out what his plan was.
“I thought you could meet my grandmother.” Did I just hear him right? “I take all of my first dates to meet her. She always brings me good luck.”
He pulled into the parking lot of the cemetery, struggling to put his truck into park. He got out, not waiting for me, and grabbed a basket out of the bed of the truck. Was this guy serious? Lucky? What the hell kind of luck did he think he was going to be getting from me?
I reluctantly exited the vehicle and followed him down the windy path, hoping that his actual grandmother, who was alive, was going to be meeting us. When he stopped in front of a grave, I knew I was wrong.
“Meet grandma Jen.” His eyes sparked and the happiness he exuded was one I was not ready for. He actually thought that this was going to be a thing. I stood there and watched as he unpacked the basket he had brought.
“I thought we could have a picnic with grandma.” He laid out the blanket directly over the grave. I took a step back and moved my hand into my purse. I grabbed for my phone, ready to run and dial who ever answered first in order to come pick me up. He hadn’t noticed my retreat yet as he took out different food bowls and a drink container. “All of my other dates have loved her. She sometimes talks to us, so she might make an appearance tonight.”
His head shot up at the moment I was about to turn around.
“Where are you going?” His question was pitiful and the sad pout on his face did him no justice. This strong and attractive man was not who I was expecting at all. I could put up with some things, just not the crazies.
“I have to go.” I turned around fast in my red pump heels and walked as quickly as I could out of the cemetery. “Sorry!”
I waved my hand in the air, not checking to see if he was following me. I brought up the Uber app on my phone, trying to find the closest person to pick me up. I was lucky they were down the road, so I didn’t have to wait in case Tristan did decide to follow.
The only thing that could make this night any better would be alcohol.
All.
The.
Alcohol.
—–
“Blue Raspberry Martini.” I slapped a ten onto the counter in front of one of my favorite bartenders, Holden. Now he was the whole package, but that was never going to happen. Holden was tall, dark hair, great muscles, rich brownie colored eyes, and a gorgeous bright smile that melted every girls panties. What was even better than his looks? He knew how to show a girl a good time, we had got to the movie and dinner before, but only ever as friends, so I never held my breath when it came to him.
I took a seat into my regular chair at the end of the bar. My head hit the counter with a thump and I didn’t care how gross it was, I at least knew this place well.
This was not how I expected tonight to go.
“That’s one popular martini.” The deep husky voice came from beside me. My body became aware of what was happening around me. The man sitting to my left, caging me in against the wall to my right.
Now that was what I talking about. This man may not have been as tall as Tristan, but those muscles and his piercing green eyes did me in.
“It’s my favorite.” I took the drink from Holden’s hand before he let it sit on the counter top in front of us. I took a long drag, not wavering eye contact with this mystery man beside me.
“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow night?” His question was bold. I liked it.
“And what makes you think that I would want to go on a date with you?” I still had the same attitude that I had with Tristan, but this time it was all in the name of fun.
“Because I asked.” He waved Holden over. “Another for her, and a whiskey sour for me.”
“A whiskey man I see.” I could appreciate a man who could hold a dark liquor.
“My only vice in life.” He chuckled at himself and I nearly fell off my chair. That laugh could do any woman in. My knees were shaking and I was wondering just how much longer I could get away with flirting with this man before he realized that he was way too far out of my league. “At least it used to be.”
“I can approve of that.” I grabbed the second martini on the counter and pushed my now empty glass to the edge. “Cheers to new acquaintances.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.” He clinked his glass against mine and I watched as he sipped his drink down slowly.
“What if I said no?” I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to see his reaction.
“No, is not an answer I’ll accept.” His bluntness startled me. I didn’t know what he was playing at. His stare didn’t waver from mine and there was something about the pain in his eyes that made me want to say yes even faster.
With what I’d seen so far, how bad could a first date be with this man?
“Fine.” A pretended to huff at him, like he was an inconvenience. “I’ll go on a date with you.”
“Perfect!” He clapped his hands together and jumped off the stool next to me. His enthusiasm sent a rippling laugh through my whole body. This man was not like any other I had met. He wrote his number on the nearest napkin, having taken a pen out of his pant pocket. He looked like he had just gotten off of work. He slid the napkin over to me and I look down to just a number.
He got up to leave after downing the last of his drink, but I reached a hand out to his and stopped him.
“Wait.” I held up the napkin to him. “What’s your name?”
“Greg.” He threw me a wink. “Greg Moran.”
He was gone in a flash, out the door, leaving me alone once more. Greg. I could get used to saying that name on a daily basis.
Author Jordan Bates 