His Broken Heart Antidote - Anne-Marie Meyer Page 0,2

sure why I’d upset her to the level that she ignored me and fired insults, but I had regardless. And I was fairly certain that there was nothing I could do to change her predisposed notions about me. Still, it grated. I was the good guy. Maybe I should have been watching where I was going, but I’d done all I could to make up for ruining a pot of spaghetti sauce. It wasn’t like her clothes stuck to the backs of her legs.

Grant found an empty table just outside of the cafeteria. I checked to make sure the red sauce wouldn’t get on the chair before sitting down. Most of it was below the knee. We plopped down, and while Grant dug into his lunch as if he hadn’t eaten in three days, I mindlessly picked at the crust of the sandwich I’d unwrapped. My gaze kept wandering back to Ellise and Betty.

They cleaned up in a matter of minutes, and soon, the floor was shining and any evidence that a huge sauce spill had occurred was gone.

I felt a tad disappointed watching Ellise disappear through the swinging door. She intrigued me. Not only because when she had no clue who I was—a rare find in a woman around these parts—but because, when Betty had called me Doctor McKnight, Ellise hadn’t backed down.

It was … refreshing, to say the least, and fascinating, to say the most.

“… and that’s how I got a second family in Texas.”

Grant’s words drifted into my brain, and I snapped my attention over to him. “Your what?” I’d clearly missed something.

Grant scowled. “I was right. You’re ignoring me.”

Needing something to do, I shook my head as I took a big bite of my sandwich. “No, I wasn’t,” I said through a mouthful of bread and peanut butter.

He sighed. “Yes, you were. You missed my great punchline, all because you were staring at the new cafeteria chick.”

I swallowed and then winced as my not-quite-chewed sandwich scraped my throat as it went down. “Was not,” I wheezed.

He gave me a yeah, right look as he took a swig of his milk. “I don’t blame you. She’s cute.”

I wrinkled my nose as I shook my head. “Don’t say ‘cute.’ My mom uses that word when she describes the girls she’s set me up with.” I shuddered. “And they are cute, but only because they’re barely older than Katie.” Like the woman she’d set me up with not long ago. Bowling while she snapped pics for her social media posts was not my idea of a good time. I should have taken Katie; my six-year-old niece would have paid more attention to me and less attention to the number of followers on her latest account.

“Nice. Younger girls are nice.” Grant bobbed his head.

I stared at my best friend. Since when had he started sounding like a pig? “No. Younger girls are wrong. I’m not …” I shook my head. I was too old to date anyone in their twenties. “No,” I finally said, hoping that would shut down the conversation.

Grant shrugged. “I’m telling you, don’t set so many limitations for yourself. There’s a vast ocean out there for a guy like you. You could have any girl.”

I shoved the rest of my sandwich into my mouth and crumpled up the plastic wrap until it was in a tiny ball. “I don’t want just any girl,” I said as I went to stand. Grant followed. We walked over to the garbage, and I tossed my wrapper inside.

“Then what kind of girl do you want?” He took one last drink of his milk, returned the cap, and then tossed the whole bottle into the recycling.

That was a loaded question. It wasn’t like asking someone what color of sweater they wanted or even what kind of car they liked to drive. A woman was mysterious and wonderful, confusing and scary. Honestly, I didn’t know if I had a type. What did that mean, anyway? It wasn't like I could walk up to a vending machine and say, I’d like a sporty woman today, and just pick one out.

I turned, barely managing to catch myself from running into Ellise once more. Her rolling cart nearly shaved my stomach. She had a concentrated look on her face as she maneuvered the cart with one wobbly wheel, completely oblivious to my gaze. Once she rounded the corner of the hallway and disappeared, I turned my attention back to Grant.

“I dunno,” I said as I shrugged.