The Many Dates of Indigo

CHAPTER TWO

"They don't know what they're talkin' about," Indigo mumbled to herself as she steered her dark-green 1951 Chevy pickup down the idyllic neighborhood street. The community of Forestwood claimed its name from the robust pine trees scattered throughout the planned preserve of contemporary homes and manicured lawns.

Sure, her dating history was riddled with mistakes, but every one had also taught her a lesson. Showed her what she didn't want in a relationship. And her picker wasn't broken. She'd picked a good one once. Too bad her younger self hadn't known that at the time.

And yeah, she said no to a lot of the guys who asked her out. Scratch that. She said no to all the guys who asked her out.

She was exhausted from the dating game, from picking the wrong guy to give her heart, mind, and sometimes body to. From Corey to Darius to Jason, she'd found that her luck with love sucked. However, she didn't want to be single for the rest of her life, even though she had no problems with singledom; the years of spending time with just herself had been rewarding and beneficial. Besides growing her business, building a strong social media presence, paying off her debts, and blossoming her savings account, she'd formulated a self-care routine to recharge her battery and restore her soul after her busy workweek. The past four years had been productive, but it was time for a change.

She could feel it in her gut. Her heart was ready; the pain of heartache had subsided, and she no longer flinched at the thought of investing time in another guy who wasn't her dad, brother, or best friend. Especially her best friend, Tate, who had become more than a friend when they were eighteen. Maybe it was Usher, Lil Jon, and Ludacris who had convinced them that they could be lovers also. But it had been a mistake that had taken years to correct.

Now she was ready to bid the single stage of her life adieu. It was time for her to get back in the ring. The world was full of men, and they weren't all Coreys, Dariuses, or Jasons.

The loser is probably right, Indigo thought as she eased her pickup into her driveway and shifted the gear from Drive to Park.

The stereo was barely loud enough to pick up the quiet storm mix she had created on her iPhone. She blocked out all the ambiance of suburban life swarming around: the kids running down the street playing soccer, riding bikes, or skateboarding; homemakers gossiping on the sidewalk; and couples walking their dogs at a brisk pace.

The clack of nails and soft paws swishing on the car window pulled Indigo out of her thoughts. She killed the ignition and swung open the door.

"My baby!" she squealed, patting an overexcited cane corso on the head.

"We have a problem," a familiar voice said.

Tate Larsen stood almost a foot taller than Indigo's 5'3" frame, even in all the heels she wore. He was in his usual attire of basketball shorts with a white University of Houston T-shirt that stretched across his lean frame and contrasted with his golden-olive skin.

He flashed her a smile that didn't match his serious words.

Indigo echoed his expression as she stopped petting her baby and stood up straight. "A new one?" She took the leash he handed her.

"Well . . . a new couple moved in two streets down . . ." He combed an ink-stained hand through his wavy chestnut tresses. "And they have a Pomeranian." He twisted his mouth.

Indigo scratched the black-furred head. "Gambit! You made another enemy?" Her tone turned motherly. The dog looked up with big eyes as if he could comprehend every word. "You got to make a friend." She patted his massive head. "Tate's not going to be around forever."

"Hey!" Tate dropped to his haunches and flung his arm around Gambit's thick neck. "Don't tell my homie that." Tate stood before Gambit could drag his pink tongue up his ruggedly handsome face and slobber in his well-groomed beard. "How was the baby shower?"