Free Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2) by Melanie Shawn

a disaster. Even though not dating was an odd thing to have in common on a date, I would take it. In the short time we’d been doing the obligatory small talk, I’d yet to find one strand of commonality to grasp. I planned to hold on to this one with both hands.
    “Really?” I responded casually, not wanting my excitement to show.
    “Yeah. I had a girlfriend all through high school and we didn’t really date, unless you count football games and dances. Then, in college…” He sat back and blew out a loud breath as a smug grin crept up on his face. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t call what I did dating. Fucking, yes. A lot of fucking . Sometimes with more than one girl at once. But dating? Nah. I didn’t even know their names most of the time.”
    I hoped my shock wasn’t being broadcast in high def on my face. But there was a better-than-good chance it was. I mean, who said that to someone they’d met less than half an hour ago? And not only share that information, but also look so proud about it?
    Apparently, Peter does, I thought as he winked at me.
    “But I know your name, Cara. ” He overemphasized my name as if it were some kind of a compliment or an honor that he knew it. Then, maintaining uncomfortable eye contact, he took another swig from his frosty mug, set it down on the table, and leaned back. “And I gotta say, I’m liking this whole dating thing. I feel very mature. Like an adult. Ya know what I mean?”
    I found myself nodding, unsure how to respond. I had to admit that I’d felt the same thing when I’d been getting ready. When I’d slipped my dress on, I’d had the very distinct feeling of being a grown-up. That excitement had multiplied as I’d slid on a pair of black heels and pulled the thin strip of leather around my ankle before buckling it.
    I mean, what girl didn’t love getting dressed up for a date? A first date at that. Still, I hesitated over sharing that information with him. Maybe it was that he’d just told me he’d been a man-whore in college. Or maybe it was because I didn’t feel anything when I looked at him. No connection. No interest. No spark.
    Peter was a good-looking guy who fit almost everything on the list. He was twenty-four, with light-brown hair. He stood at least six foot tall, had pretty, blue eyes, a great smile and a little Charlie Hunnam vibe. He worked for his family’s furniture business. They made custom wooden furniture, mainly tables and dressers.
    From what he’d described of his college days, he definitely had a little bad boy in him. And he’d been nothing but sweet to me, starting with offering to pick me up and then pulling my chair out as soon as the hostess had stopped at our table.
    But, when I looked at him, I felt…nothing. Well, not nothing. I kind of felt awkward. I hoped that, after we got to know each other more, that would pass. I actually wished that I would have Ubered there; that way, I could’ve had a drink. A little liquid courage was probably what I needed to get past this uncomfortable get-to-know-you phase of the evening. I took a sip of my soda and didn’t think it was going to quite do the trick.
    “So, what about you? Harmony would not shut up about the fact that I had to take you somewhere nice. Is that because you’re trying to break out of your random-hookup phase?” Peter asked without even a smidgen of judgment tinting his voice. His face was as serene as if he’d just asked if I liked puppies.
    I, on the other hand, let out a little gasp, which hindered the liquid trying to travel down my throat. Setting my glass down, I brought the napkin I’d laid out properly on my lap to my lips so I could choke with a bit of discretion.
    “Are you okay?” Peter sounded alarmed.
    With as much poise as possible, I nodded and even gave him a thumbs-up.
    Finally, after I was able to breathe regularly again, I shook my head and attempted to compose myself. “Sorry about that. It just went down the wrong pipe. And