Free Simon Says by Lori Foster

I didn’t expect that. The humidity makes my hair curl. And frizz. I’d have pulled it into a ponytail if the weatherman hadn’t outright lied to me, claiming it’d be a nice day.”
    Her hair was frizzing a little, but it looked cute. “You’re fine.” Simon eyed the sweatshirt again. “I take it you’re into barbers?”
    She glanced down at her chest and smiled. “A friend gives me this stuff on holidays. I have a whole line of barber-joke apparel.”
    â€œHe’s not a boyfriend?”
    She shook her head and said emphatically, “No.”
    The way she stressed the negative made Simon wonder, so he kept quiet and waited for her to elaborate. She did.
    â€œI’m too busy for any steady dating or anything. And besides, I’m picky.”
    â€œPicky how?”
    â€œNo smokers, no druggies, no heavy drinkers.”
    He avoided the same people. “You call that picky?”
    â€œIn today’s world, yeah.”
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œHmmm.” She considered her preferences while wolfing down another big bite. “Well, I’m not keen on stuffed suits, or guys that are into total grunge. And definitely no wimps or whiners.”
    â€œI don’t like whiners, either. Anything else?”
    â€œNo young’ uns. A man has to be at least my age or older.”
    A perfect lead-in. “And you are…?”
    â€œTwenty-three.”
    Simon snorted. He’d thought her a little older, maybe closer to his thirty-one years. “Any younger than you and he’d be in high school.”
    She ignored that. “And because I have to travel a lot, no one who’s too clingy. I hate all that mushy heartbreaking drama, ya know?”
    She really did have a long list, Simon realized. But fortunately, he didn’t fall into any of her taboo categories. He respected his health too much to do drugs, smoke, or over-drink. And he’d never been clingy or whiny a day in his life. “So do you ever date?”
    â€œNot very often.” She averted her gaze—and that got Simon to speculating.
    â€œWhen was your last date?”
    For the longest time, she didn’t answer, choosing instead to stare out the window. The CD played, vying with the howling wind.
    Simon was about to change the subject when she said, “It’s been so long now, I can’t remember exactly.” Suddenly she turned to him. “What about you?”
    â€œA few months.” But he didn’t want to talk about Bonnie. “So tell me, Dakota, what do you do when you’re not hanging out at gyms waiting for men you don’t know? You mentioned that you have to travel a lot?”
    A big smile brightened her expression. “Most of the time, I perform.”
    â€œDare I ask?”
    She laughed. “I’m a singer. Sometimes I go solo, sometimes I hook up with a band. Depends on the job, and they vary a lot. I’ve done weddings and parties for a one-shot deal. And I’ve done bars and clubs where I stayed on for a few months at a time.”
    Yeah, Simon could see her front and center, entertaining men. She’d be a hit. Her voice was mellow and rich, and easy on the ears. “So you do have a real job, just not an ordinary one.”
    â€œListen to who’s talking!” She reached over to slug him on the shoulder. “Like being a professional fighter for the SBC is in any way ordinary.”
    â€œYou’ve got me there.” Simon pried the lid off his cottage cheese and pineapple. It looked good. “You want to sing me something while I eat this?”
    She laughed again. “No way.”
    â€œShy?”
    â€œNope, not even a little. But this is hardly the time or place.”
    â€œWhy not?” Simon glanced around at the interior of the truck, then the empty grounds of the park. “Eating in a truck in the rain in the cold is a first for me. We might as well top it off with