My face warmed with a blush. I sipped the wine hoping it would cool me. "Last I heard, he married a man named Gary, which would probably explain the awkwardness of the whole thing. What about you? When did you first start dating?"
He sat back with a deep chuckle. "What's today's date?"
"Oh please. You were probably asking girls out at twelve."
He leaned his head side-to-side. "Maybe not twelve but around there. New subject." He took a sip of beer.
"All right. Five questions each and you have to answer honestly." I pointed at him. "I have a three-year-old, so I know a lie when I hear one."
"I've got a few sinful habits under my belt, but lyin' has never been one of them. You start."
I'd brought up the five-questions idea, and now I was stumped on the first one. There was so much I wanted to know about the man, and I so badly wanted all his answers and everything about him to surprise and please me. I started with something simple. I reached across and lightly touched his cheek. It was the gentlest touch but I saw his throat move with a deep swallow. In turn, his reaction caused my pulse to speed up. One quick touch and I'd temporarily forgotten my question. I pulled my hand away. "That thin scar—how did you get it?"
He reached up to touch where my finger had just been. He nodded with recognition. "That one, yeah, I'd like to tell you that I was fighting off an intruder or saving a kid from a mean dog, but since you've fired up your mom lie detector, I'll confess. It was a bar fight, and my opponent was wearing a very sharp ring."
I flinched. "Ouch. Was it over a girl?" I asked.
"That'll be two questions," he reminded me. "Or are follow-ups allowed? Cuz I think I'll have a few."
I shook my head. "Nope. You're right. No follow-ups. Your turn."
Ronan narrowed his green eyes in thought. "What's it like being a mom?"
It took me a second to comprehend what he'd asked. I wasn't expecting it. Most of the men I dated tried to ignore that I had a little boy. "Oh wow, you've touched on a subject that I can talk forever on, but I'll keep my answer sweet and simple. Being a mother is fulfilling, joyful, terrifying, stressful and there's this constant bittersweet ache in your heart when you realize that one person is the center of your existence and without them, you'd suddenly be nothing."
Ronan stared at me across the table. I covered my mouth. "Sorry but you asked."
He shook his head. "Why are you sorry? That was cool. My brother, Jameson, found out he was a dad a few years ago. Rio was already twelve when her mom dropped the news and the kid on Jameson's doorstep. He didn't know the first thing about being a parent. We didn't exactly grow up in a house that modeled parenting, but hell if he didn't take to the role like a pro. And I know he feels the same. Rio is the center of his universe. She's the best."
"Be still my heart," I said, but I hadn't meant to say it out loud.
He laughed. "What's that?"
"Shit, I guess that one slipped out. It's just nice to hear words like that coming from someone who?—"
"Someone who?" he prodded.
"I'm sorry. I'm judging you based on your appearance. You look like someone who likes to focus on having fun."
Ronan rubbed his stubble-covered chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Was that a question because that would be number two, and yeah, I probably spend far too much time chasing quick, easy pleasure." He paused. "Did that just stillyour fluttery heart and prove your theory that I'm a pro partier who chases pretty women?"
I sat back and thought about it. "No, it's still fluttering but then my theory wasn't all that farfetched. I guess I just appreciate the honesty. When I walked in here, I asked myself why the heck I'd chosen someone like you to break my non-dating vow."
"Someone like me?"
I sighed. "Heartbreaker material."
He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm. "And see, that's exactly why I asked you out. I thought, 'Ro, you need your heart broken. You need some amazing, perfect woman to come into your life and show you what real love looks like.'"
"I'm not amazing or perfect." My throat tightened. "I've made a lot of mistakes and missteps."
"If we're judging each other on mistakes and missteps, Ray, then step aside for the master cuz my life's been nothing but." He reached out his hand. "You a Chris Stapleton fan?"
"Yes," I said and placed my hand on his palm.
"Enough psychoanalyzing each other. Sometimes a slow dance in each other's arms is all you need in order to know if you've found something you want to hold on to," he said.
There was no real designated dance floor in the small bar, but the owner had left a clearing around the jukebox where people occasionally danced to their favorite tunes. The jukebox was in a dark corner, but the lights coming from the box created a colorful pattern on the dark floor.