“Sounds good.”

“Not Lincoln’s Road House meatloaf sandwiches celebrating. You in sexy heels and a short skirt celebrating,” he clarified and I blinked at the dash because I’d never had sexy heels and short skirt fun with Brock. I’d had beer and pool table and plethora of neon signs on the walls fun with Brock plenty of times but never heels and short skirts.

Then I asked, “Really?”

To which he answered, “Absolutely.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“I’ll make a reservation and call you with the time.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

“Later, sweetness.”

“Later, honey.”

We disconnected and I tucked my phone into my purse, thinking about which heels I was going to wear with which short skirt, doing an about face on my earlier thoughts and congratulating myself on taking good advice from Brock because, since Martha started on Monday, already my time had been freed up. No schedules to do. No inventory to keep. No phone calls to pick up. And she helped out in front of the bakery too so I didn’t have to rush up there when things got busy.

This meant I could leave early and concentrate on getting dolled up.

I was grinning to myself because I knew exactly what I was going to wear, a dress and high-heeled strappy sandals I’d owned for over a year and had never worn. Martha talked me into buying them and I’d let her for reasons unknown because they were extremely sexy and thus something (at the time) I had no use for.

Now I had a use for them.

I walked through the front door smiling. Then I aimed my smile at Suni and Toby behind the counter, they smiled back through the pack of people and Toby called, “Tess, a gentleman’s here for you. He’s waiting over there.”

Toby tipped his chin toward the tables, my head turned that way and my smile froze on my face.

This was because Dade McManus was sitting at a table by the window, cleaned plate on the table in front of him, fingers through the handle of a coffee mug also in front of him, and lastly, big manila envelope and folder also in front of him.

I tried to warm up my smile because he was a nice man.

I feared I failed because, even though he was a nice man, I wasn’t fired up as to why he might be there.

Still, I approached him smiling.

“Dade,” I greeted and, like the gentleman he was, he stood and bent to touch his lips to my cheek.

Then he leaned back, caught my eyes and murmured, “Tess.”

“This is a pleasant surprise,” I lied.

His head tipped slightly to the side and his smile was small and solemn when he called me on it with a gentle, “I wish that were true, my dear.”

I pulled in breath.

He gestured to the chair opposite his, asking, “Please, can you sit with me for awhile?”

I nodded and he waited until I was seated before he sat.

I looked at his plate and with years of experience my eyes moved from it to him and I asked, “Devil’s food with dark chocolate buttercream?”

His brows went up in surprise and he answered, “Why, yes.”

“Practice,” I explained.

He nodded then stated, “It was delicious,” I smiled my gratitude for the compliment then he queried, “Would you like me to buy you a cake and coffee?”

“Honey,” I said quietly, leaning in a little, “I own the joint. I don’t have to pay for the goods.”

“Every penny counts, Tess, and it would be my pleasure.”

I sat back thinking, God, Olivia was so totally dumb. First, she had Brock and killed that dead. Then she had Dade and did the same.

Complete idiot.

“That’s very nice but I’m good,” I told him and he nodded again.

Then he announced, “Although the subject matter I’ve come to discuss is unpleasant, my reason for coming to discuss it with you is not. I see you’re uncertain about our chat but I wish you to know that, before I leave, you’ll be happy I came.” He paused before he finished,

“I hope.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t play poker,” I joked and he smiled.

“Definitely not.”

“Okay then, sock it to me,” I invited.

He sat back and rested a hand on the manila ensconced mystery items beside his plate. I looked down at them then up at him when he started talking.

“I’ve been in contact with my attorneys. They’re poised to file divorce papers and will be doing this next week. Once they’re filed, I’ll be giving Olivia two weeks to find alternate accommodation.”

Oh man. Time had run out. And although Brock’s lawyer was pushing Olivia as well as doing what he could do at the courthouse to get something done, and soon, about custody, as they do, the wheels were grinding slowly. Brock’s attorneys had learned that Olivia had just hired her own attorney two days ago and the first thing he did was pour cement on the proceedings. Fast-drying cement. Guardian ad litem cement. She wasn’t going to sit down and discuss it. She was going to drag it out as long as possible which figured since she was a bitch and didn’t give a shit about her kids. It also sucked just because she was a bitch and didn’t give a shit about her kids.

He continued, “I have a prenuptial agreement with Olivia. If we were to dissolve the marriage for anything other than infidelity, she would have walked away a very wealthy woman. Unfortunately, we will be dissolving the marriage due to a variety of reasons and one of those is infidelity. The clause in the prenuptial is that, if she were to be unfaithful to me, she would walk away with nothing and this, my attorneys assure me, is ironclad so this, my attorneys assure me, she will do.”

Well, good.

Kind of.

“Okay,” I said when Dade said no more.

He looked at me then he looked out the window then he looked at the manila folder and envelope under his hand then he sighed.

Then he looked back at me and said quietly, “I’ve known Joey and Rex now for nearly four years.”

My heart started beating harder.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“They’re good boys.”

“Yes,” I whispered, “they are.”

“After what happened here a few weeks ago and, I’ll say now, I’m sorry that happened to you and the boys. Although I heard it from her perspective I know what most likely happened and I’m certain it was unpleasant.”