Caching In by Tracy Krimmer Page A

it.
    “Congratulations, Chels.” I said the words, not sure I meant them.
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    After the appointment, we arrived at work at ten-thirty, to a surprisingly busy office. Did everyone pick today to do their banking? I rushed to my station and greeted the first customer. A few money exchanges and short conversation later, the next customer approached.
    “Seth.”
    “Yep. In the flesh.”
    We hadn’t spoken since our date, or rather since I humiliated myself by being a total wimp on the rock climbing wall. Two days after, he sent me a text, but I never replied. Clearly, he had something, or someone, to hide from me, and I didn’t deal with that kind of drama. “How can I help you? I didn’t realize you bank here.”
    “I don’t.”
    His hair, combed back and neat, shined under the harsh office light, and his dark shirt brought out something in his eyes. Probably guilt. No matter how I tried to deny it, I wanted to kiss those lips. I couldn’t, though. After I ignored the first text, I made the decision to put the kibosh on it. Kaput. This thing between Seth and I, if anything existed, wasn’t going to happen. It was done. Over. “So why are you here?” I pretended to type on my keyboard.
    “You never texted me back. You got my text, right?”
    “Yes, I got it.”
    “I’m not quite sure what happened. I hoped to go out again.”
    Two choices presented themselves; I either lie through my teeth and make up some excuse about how I’m not ready for a relationship right now, or tell the truth and let him know I figured out his cheating game. I'm not a player. I stopped my fake typing and looked him straight in the eyes. “My ex-fiance cheated on me, and from your conversation with Mike, I gather you’re already involved. I’m not about to go down that road again. I don’t condone cheating.”
    His dark eyes softened. “Ally, I’m not sure what gave you the idea I’m involved with someone, but I’m not. Anymore. I’m divorced. About two years now.”
    Divorced. The possibility of a broken marriage never even crossed my mind. Yep, pin a sign with the word “IDIOT” on my back. “Mike started to say something and you cut him off. I thought you were hiding something. Can you explain that?”
    He shook his head. “It’s complicated.”
    “How is it complicated?” Things either were or weren’t. Complications didn't exist in my world.
    He scratched his eyebrow with his index finger. “This isn’t anything I want to get into right now, and I’m not ready to discuss it yet. I’m not with anyone, though, Ally. I’m single.”
    “Oh.” Without even turning around, I sensed Daryl watching me. He hated when we socialized during business hours. I swore he got off on writing people up, but I never was yet, and didn’t want to start now. I needed to wrap up this conversation. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I really need to get back to work.” I peered around him, ready to call “Next” to the person behind him.
    “Wait. Don’t you want to go out again? I had a nice time.”
    “You did?”
    “You didn’t?”
    “No, it’s not that. I did, well, until I thought you were a cheating jerk. But, didn’t I kind of screw things up when I freaked out on the rope?” I couldn’t imagine he wanted to date someone who couldn’t climb up a measly wall while securely strapped.
    My knees buckled when he grinned at me. “Are you kidding? Despite what you think, you’re adorable when you freak out. Secondly, that would be a dumb reason not to go on another date with you.”
    He considered my dread of heights amusing, cute. How should I take that? Calling me adorable was a compliment, I guess, and I did want to see him again. And again. And again. I figured he lost interest in me the second he realized what a chicken I was.
    “So, what do you say? We can do something a little less risky if you want.”
    Something more my style. I knew the perfect thing for us to do.