Baby Be Mine (Spinsters & Casanovas Series Book 1) (10 page)

Today she wore a nice pink sweater and black
skinny jeans, with medium-length heels. Still, at that height her
head just managed to reach past his shoulder. Hunter had a thing
for pink, especially on women; it just made them look super hot. He
wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with her at all, actually.

Just then her eyes met his and man, was that
a punch to the stomach. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of
those eyes. Then that face was replaced by an ID card shoved right
in his line of sight. It took him a moment to adjust to the
closeness of the picture, but once he took hold of it and moved it
away to a good distance so he could focus on the picture, it became
clear. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw her
date of birth printed on her driver’s license.

“Shit! You really are thirty!” he spat
out.

Hunter couldn’t believe this beautiful woman
who looked way younger than him was actually thirty.

“I told you I didn’t lie.” Clarice smiled at
her small victory.

“God, you’re so old,” Hunter said, when an
idea popped into his head.

Clarice’s smile dropped.

“What does that mean?” she asked, not so
sure of her triumph. Here she thought that by proving to Hunter her
true age, he would respect her a bit, not remind her again that she
was old. Why did she show the man her driver license? Because he
was riling her up too much; that’s why.

“That you’re old now,” Hunter stated,
suppressing the urge to snicker at the whole situation. How he
couldn’t wait to tease her now, but still, he couldn’t believe how
this woman could appear this young when she just hit thirty. He had
never dated a woman in her thirties before. If he decided to go for
her, would that make him her boy toy? The thought sounded a little
tempting actually.

“But you said I looked young and innocent
just a moment ago. Like a twenty-year-old woman. Now I look thirty?
How can I have aged so fast in a just a few minutes?” Clarice asked
for clarification.

“Woman, do avocados look old to you?” Hunter
explained, using the only analogy he could think of.
Time to
have some fun with her now
, he thought.

“What are you on about? I don’t
understand.”

“See, can you see this?” Hunter showed
Clarice her driver’s license, tapping at her picture while trying
very hard to suppress his laughter.

“I’m seeing my picture,” Clarice stated
seriously.

“No, you’re seeing an avocado,” Hunter said
again.

“An avocado?’ Clarice questioned Hunter in
confusion. The look on her face just made Hunter want to tease her
even more.

“Yes. An avocado.”

“I don’t see an avocado. Just me.” No matter
how many times Clarice looked at her image on the ID, she still
could only see herself. What was this Casanova on about?

“Look, let’s look at it this way.” Hunter
began his explanation. “All avocados look the same on the outside,
right?

Clarice nodded in agreement.

“They’re green, maybe a little rough and
wrinkly on the outside, but once you peel off the skin and check
the meat, that’s when you know they’re old and soft.”

“So what you’re trying to say is that I’m an
avocado?” Clarice reiterated.

“Yes, you’re an avocado,” he confirmed.

“I still don’t get it. I don’t look that
old. You said so yourself a minute ago.”

“God, woman! It’s the inside that counts.
You know, the mechanics.”

“What are you on about? I still don’t
understand you. Speak English.”

“I am speaking English. It’s you who’s
acting all dense.”

“Who are you calling dense?” Clarice had had
enough of this man. Who was he to call her dense? She was a smart
woman who had accomplished so many things in her thirty years.

“You, woman. You!” Hunter said again, poking
at her forehead to press his point.

“Stop calling me woman,” she shouted,
brushing his finger from her face and snatching back her license.
“You just called me a sweetheart before.”

“That was before you said you were thirty,
acting all innocent and that.”

“Now I’m acting all innocent? I tell you,
mister, I am neither dense nor am I playing innocent, beca—”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Hunter butted in.
“And even if you were acting all innocent now, I wouldn’t believe
you. A woman like you should act well and refined, like aged wine,
matured to perfection. But you, now that I know your age, you don’t
act like wine at all. You’re an avocado.”

“Stop with the avocado. My name is Clarice.
Not avocado or woman or even sweetheart.” She fumed.

“Sorry, avocado it is for me. Avocado.
Avocado,” Hunter repeated, just to make sure Clarice was mad. He
loved her angry face.

“Clarice! Clarice!” Clarice repeated, her
cheeks turning a bright pink.

“Avocado. Avocado. Actually, I kind of like
the sound of it now. Nice and smooth on my tongue.”

“Arrgh, you insufferable man. I’ve had
enough of you. Why am I even arguing with you anyway? A waste of my
time. I’m leaving. And I pray to God that if I see you again, I’ll
bite off my own tongue,” Clarice vowed.

Hunter felt a little disappointed when
Clarice said she was going. He was having so much fun with the
bickering and the teasing. He didn’t want it to end yet.

“I’ll wager you on that, Avocado,” he said,
just so they could continue with their bickering a little more. “If
I see you again, I swear on my life that I’ll never look at another
woman again. Which is hardly likely since I love my girls too much.
And just for the record, my name is Hunter. You know, the
mysterious Hunter that likes to
hunt
down innocent girls.”
Then he winked at her.

Come on, give me a good comeback,
he
challenged.

“Arrrgh, you Casanova. I hope you marry a
woman who holds an iron rod in her hand. Then she’ll beat you into
shape.” Clarice growled, then stormed off, leaving Hunter to laugh
in her wake.

CHAPTER 8

Clarice was still fuming and a little
rattled when she approached the man holding the pink rose. As if
sensing she was approaching, he stood and tugged his shirtsleeves
into place, then glanced at her and smiled. It looked like she
wasn’t the only one who was nervous after all.

“Clarice?” he asked, unsure whether she was
the same as his match on the dating site.

“Yes.” She tried mustering up a smile, but
her emotions were still boiling from her encounter with that
Casanova near the restroom, and all she could achieve was a slight
slant of her lips. And speaking of Casanova, she spotted him right
near their table, his eyes following her closely.

Blast!
She should’ve known he would
be dining here too. Feeling his eyes boring straight at her, she
reverted hers to the man sitting before her.

But how did he get to his seat so
quickly?
Clarice’s thoughts drifted back to Hunter again.
Clarice, shut up and look at the man in front of you
now!

Hunter, on the other hand, couldn’t believe
the woman he named Avocado was actually the young man’s date. This
wasn’t good at all. Somehow he felt a little irritated.

Clarice was busy eyeing the young man in
front of her, still holding the pink rose, unsure of what to
do.

Up close, the man was pleasantly handsome,
but nothing that made her heart jump like that Casanova over
there.

Stop it, Clarice. Stop thinking like this at
once. You are here to see this nice man. Talk to him. Now!

“Sorry for the wait. I got waylaid coming
here,” she said, hoping her heart would calm down a bit.

“Oh, it’s all right. I was just enjoying the
view outside.” He smiled at her. “Oh, here, your rose,” the man
said, handing the bloom to her.

“Thank you.” She smiled. He seemed nice.

“Here, have a seat.” The man moved to her
side and pulled out the chair for her.
Oh, how sweet,
she
thought.
Such a gentleman. One brownie point for my
date.

“The view is very beautiful at this time of
evening, don’t you think?” he asked, flashing his pearly white
teeth at her.

She mentally increased his score. A man that
showed emotion definitely deserved another point. Plus, those clean
white teeth warranted extra credit. She couldn’t imagine dating a
man with bad oral hygiene, let alone asking for his sperm.

She was quite pleased with the turn of
events, actually. The man was almost halfway there already. Just
three more points to go to fit her criteria, and then she’d ask him
for his sperm. Just perfect.

“Hello. Welcome. Have you decided on what
you would like to order yet?”

Clarice looked up to see the waitress
holding a pad of paper and pen in her hand. She smiled at her, then
turned to look at the young man—

Chocolate chippy, she forgot his name. It
was in the profile on her laptop. Why couldn’t she remember? What
was it? Hunter, was it Hunter? Wait, that was that Casanova’s
name.

Why did she remember Hunter’s name and not
this handsome man’s?
Useless, Clarice, useless.
How are
you going to find the perfect genes for your baby if you can’t even
remember the guy’s name? And here you have the gift of memory,
recalling all your patients’ names even when they’ve told you only
once. How disgraceful,
she yelled at herself
.

Oh, just shut up.
She told herself
off
. You’re driving me crazy.

“It’s Darcy,” the man said when he saw her
expression that literally translated to,
What was your name
again? Because I forgot it already, even when I had just read your
profile last night
. “My name is Darcy.”

Oh, how polite. How adorable. Four points
now.
Maybe she could have a future with him after all.

They talked about this and that. He was
twenty-three. A seven-year difference, but they say love holds no
barrier. Plus, Casanova did say she looked nothing over twenty. At
least until she proved her true age. She hoped this wouldn’t be the
case for this lovely young man here.

They also talked about his hobbies.
Apparently, he was just freshly out of university, gaining a
bachelor’s degree in journalism at Massey University in Wellington.
He was currently looking for a job, but hadn’t found the right one
yet. So at present, he was working as a librarian, since he loved
books so much, just like her.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Another big
thing in common. She could brag all day about Agatha Christie, her
favourite mystery author, or Alexia Praks, her favourite romance
author. She could see they could get along quite well together in
the future.

Clarice was having so much fun dining with
Darcy that she almost didn’t hear the sudden screeching of a chair
being pushed back from across the dining room. When she turned to
look at the sudden commotion, she saw that Casanova had deserted
the woman across the table from him and was now stalking towards
her, his face a brewing storm about to erupt.

Clarice felt sorry for the girl, getting
ditched like that. She must be so sad and embarrassed by that
Casanova’s actions. Her eyes were fully concentrated on examining
the tablecloth, as if she were looking for staining. But then
again, she felt a little relief because at least the girl didn’t
fall prey to Casanova’s charm, unlike most women.

Clarice was about to breathe a sigh of
relief when Hunter stopped right at their table. Her body went
rigid and she became aware of every single particle in her form.
She felt him leaning in close to her, and not a breadth of hair was
separating them when he spoke.

“Have fun, Avocado,” he whispered huskily
into her ear, making the hair at the back of her neck stand up and
the nerves along her spine tingle. Then he strode past her, leaving
her mouth gaping open, while Darcy just looked confused at the
whole scene played in front of him.

“Avocado?” Darcy asked. “Do you know
him?”

That beast of a Casanova,
Clarice
thought. How dare he embarrass her in front of her future partner?
If she saw him again, he was going to get a taste of her medicine.
Give him a shot of the strong local anesthetic to make sure he
wouldn’t be able to talk. That would serve him right for being a
smart mouth.

“Ahh, no, not at all. I don’t know him at
all.” Clarice tried to deny the truth.

Well, it was the truth. She really didn’t
know him. They’d only just met, even though it was three times in
the span of a few weeks. But that still made them strangers. She
didn’t know anything else about him apart from his name and that he
was a playboy.

“Oh, I thought he was a boyfriend or
something, the way he was whispering in your ear and all that,”
Darcy remarked leisurely, then returned to his plate of Cambodian
pancakes.

Clarice almost choked on her rice rolls. How
could Darcy think he was her boyfriend? She would rather have all
her teeth extracted without anesthetic than be called that
Casanova’s girlfriend. Yes, she did admit he had attracted her in
the beginning with the whole towel thing, but when she heard the
first word that came out of his mouth, she had sworn him off. She
and Hunter did not belong in the same sentence.

“He must have saw us enjoying ourselves,
whereas his date didn’t go so well,” she stated firmly.

“I guess so,” Darcy said, then went back to
his meal.

Thank the Lord, because after this event,
everything went back to normal again. Darcy questioned her about
her occupation. She told him she was a periodontist. Darcy didn’t
know what kind of profession that was, so she had to explain to
him. Then he said he hadn’t had a professional cleaning since he
arrived here in Auckland. They even had a bit of a laugh about
flossing and interdental cleaning.