"Oh sorry, I mean 'under the hood', is that the right analogy?"

"No-oh."

She laughed out loud and I couldn't help but laugh with her. Too much information for sure.

I jumped up from the bed. "I'd better go get ready before John gets here." Only an hour until our double date would start, and I was still in the same clothes as yesterday.

I showered, got dressed, and applied makeup in record time. Before the doorbell rang, I was polished, shined, and ready to go. If only there were special-event competitions for getting ready in a hurry, I would be an Olympic champion.

"So a husband and wife are in bed together..." Eric, the gynecologist, leaned back in his chair, swirling a whiskey drink in one hand as he cockily delivered the well-rehearsed lines of his joke. He must have picked it up at his last convention. "...and the husband starts fooling around. The wife quickly says, 'Not tonight, Dear. I have a gynecologist's appointment in the morning.' The husband is dejected but then suddenly throws the covers off and there he is, completely naked. The wife says, 'What are you doing? I told you I have an appointment with my gynecologist tomorrow.' 'Yes, I heard you, but do you also have an appointment with your dentist?'"

John was laughing, clearly amused at the guy humor. I glanced at Emma and she smiled but I wasn't sure if she was just being polite. I got up and grabbed her hand. "See you in a couple of minutes, boys. We're going to the powder room."

Okay, so far Eric wasn't a creepy doctor guy, but that joke was a little geeky. At least he could poke fun at himself and his chosen profession. I just didn't know how he could sit down and order clams at dinner earlier tonight at Broken Waves, the best seafood restaurant in town, after looking at women's vaginas all day.

After the dinner, we had all decided to check out what was quickly becoming my regular place, The Bar. It was crowded when we arrived, but we hustled enough chairs for the four of us to have a corner table.

Now I pulled Emma into the ladies' room, and as soon as we got inside, she chirped, "So what do you think of Eric?"

"He's...nice." Oh no; I paused a nanosecond too long before I said the word nice and Emma wasn't convinced. She gave me a half smile and her brows pulled together. "It's weird, isn't it? I mean, him being my gynecologist."

"A little," I admitted.

"Crap. It's a lot weird. What the heck was I thinking, dating my gynecologist?" She laughed.

"Okay, you got me. It's freaking weird," I chuckled.

"Why is dating so hard? The few good-looking guys that are left in my age group are married, gay, or weirdos."

"Geez, you give up too easily. What about Joe, who works at the hardware store? He was eyeing you the day we bought paint. Do you think Joe is good-looking?"

"What?"

"I mean would you ever do him?"

"I'd rather put out a campfire with my face."

"Ouch. Such harsh dating practices you have here in the South. Don't worry, you know what they say about all the fish in the sea..."

"Are you getting all Biblical on me?"

I snorted. "There are a lot of good guys out there, Emma, and also one especially for you. Remember, this was your first date in years. Just keep it going, date more guys, and before you know it, the right man will show up....just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"No more dating guys who've already seen you naked."

She laughed. "Alright, I promise. No family doctors or gynecologists."

I opened my purse and pulled out my pink gloss as I checked my lip color in the mirror. What the hell did I know about relationships advice? It certainly wasn't my forte. After all, my longest relationship lasted less than a year, and that ended pretty badly.

"So, what do you think of John?" I asked as I applied a rosy hue.

"Oh, Hanna, John's hot, like...on-fire hot. Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud? I mean, he's outrageously good-looking...and he seems like a really nice guy. Anyway, he's been nice to you, hasn't he?"

"Yes, of course." I paused my lip-gloss wand in the air and turned to look at Emma.

"Just be careful," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Guys like him break hearts. It's written all over his face, his handsome face. See, that's the problem. Anyway, I'm not saying he'll do that to you, but I don't want to see you hurt."

I looked down. "I know. It's a risk. I can already see myself falling for him. But I don't want to be like Daisy."

"Who the hell is Daisy?"

"Daisy Buchanan, a character in a novel I was reading." For college, before I left New York. But I can't tell you that because I ran away from my home with a suitcase full of tainted cash, and now I might be foolishly risking my heart for a guy like John.

"Well, what would Daisy do? Risk her heart?" Emma asked.

"Hell no. She went for the safe, boring solution. She went for the money. I don't want to be like that. When it comes to love, I hope I can be brave and take risks. How will I ever find the perfect guy, if I'm not willing to put my heart on the line?"

"Wow, Hanna. You've really got your head on straight. I think most women are too scared to give love a real chance, and they end up like me. Marrying that popular guy they had a crush on in high school, the one guy who's now totally wrong for them."

I looked at Emma. I could see the loneliness and desperation in her eyes. "You have the most beautiful daughter. Brian is a creep and marrying him was so wrong for you, but that relationship gave you Michelle."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "You're right. I'm feeling sorry for myself. I have the most wonderful daughter and I should be happy...it's just tough being a single parent."

I squeezed her hand. "I can only imagine. But don't give up on happiness. It will find you."

"I won't. Thanks, Hanna. You said exactly what I needed to hear."

I shoved my lip gloss back into my purse and stepped in front of Emma to fix a stray hair that had wandered away from her up-do. "Here, let me get that." I pushed it back in place with a satisfied look. "We should probably get back before they put out a missing persons report on us."

I stole one last look in the mirror and flung open the door, ready to party the night away with good company. No sooner had I stepped across the threshold than I was brought up short by the sight before my eyes. As if our conversation had summoned the devil, Emma's ex-husband, Brian, was just five feet from us, drunk and approaching fast. Foamy golden ale sloshed violently from side to side in his beer glass as he zigzagged his way to Emma. He must have seen us go in the restroom and waited for us.

"I saw your new boyfriend," he slurred, and teetered into Emma's personal space. "So you think you can replace me with him. You're a fucking cunt, you know that?"

Emma's eyes raged. "Get the hell away from me, Brian. Don't forget, I have a restraining order against you. If you don't leave me and Michelle alone, I'll have your sorry ass hauled back to jail faster than you can say 'prison bitch'."

Brian moved a defiant step closer until he was right in Emma's face and grumbled in a low husky voice, "It's a free fucking world and I can come here if I want to."

I opened my mouth to protest and tell Brian that I was about to crush his balls right now, when I saw Eric approaching fast.

He grabbed Brian by the shoulder. "Hey, asshole. Get away from her."

Then everything exploded. Without warning, Brian spun around and smashed his beer glass right into Eric's nose. Beer flew in the air, shards of glass fell to the floor, and blood ran from Brian's hand. Eric was knocked out cold and collapsed to the floor.

He lay there with his long slender arms and legs flung out in an awkward fashion. Emma screamed out Eric's name and began kicking at Brian's shins and pounding her small fists, and occasionally her purse, on Brian's back.

"Get off me, you fucking bitch," Brian screamed at Emma.

A rushing noise filled my ears and I turned toward it. There was a freight train approaching and it was John, aimed straight for Brian. I pulled Emma by her arm and spun her around, out of harm's way, with her purse still flying in the air from the momentum of her punches. It went twirling around the crook of her elbow.

Before John could reach Brian, two burly bouncers threw themselves in front of the train and stopped the two men from fighting. One of the bouncers planted the palm of his hand square on John's chest. "Easy now, champ. Calm down. We got this." He then turned to his partner, who had snared Brian, and together they grabbed him by the arms and legs, carried him to the back door and threw him out head first.

John had kneeled down, attending to Eric, who was conscious again but disoriented.

Emma pulled a napkin from her purse and dabbed at a crimson streak on Eric's face. "I don't think it's your blood. I don't see any broken skin. How's your nose? Is it broken? Do you need a...doctor?" Emma made a feeble attempt to smile. She seemed like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry about our crazy double-date night.

Eric shook his head as if he was trying to shake off the grogginess. "It must have been that idiot's blood. He probably cut his hand from the broken beer glass."

John helped Eric to his feet. He could stand but was clearly embarrassed. He had wanted to be Emma's white knight in shining armor.

"Are you okay?" John asked.

Eric nodded. "Did I...you know, did I get a punch in?"

"Well, let's just say there were a lot of kicks and punches and leave it at that." John shot a knowing glance to Emma and grabbed Eric's arm. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Ladies, if you will excuse us?" John said and helped Eric to the men's room.

We returned to our table. Emma sank down into her chair and put her chin in her hands. "Am I going to live in fear of Brian the rest of my life? How can I date if I'm looking over my shoulder, waiting for Brian to spring out of the shadows and beat the shit out of my date? This is two out of two. No one will want to date me with this maniac around. Oh wait, that's exactly what Brian wants. It's just not fair."

I cocked my head to the side and said, "It's anything but fair. Maybe if Eric were to press charges against Brian that would keep him at bay."

"I don't know if it will help. Brian will just say it was self-defense. Eric laid his hand on Brian's shoulder first."

"Why don't you call the police and tell them he is in violation of his parole? You said it's just a phone call and he is back behind bars."

Emma sighed, "I know I say that to scare him but here is the thing. Brian's cousin is a police officer at the Sheriff's office and always protecting him. Unless Brian is clearly in violation, like breaking into my house and beating me up, with physical scars showing afterwards, there is really nothing I can do."

No way. This was so fucked up. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This manic, crazy-ass ex-husband of hers would just get away with harassment over and over again?

John and Eric returned to our table, Eric all cleaned up, sporting a big shiner under one eye. He was smiling, though. "What do you know? My first bar fight. Damn, I wish I could say 'you should see the other guy' with a straight face, but I don't think people would believe that I won." He laughed.

Emma put her hand on top of his. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was my own fault. I should have known better than interfering with a drunken asshole."

Emma bit her lower lip. "I should probably get home and make sure Michelle is safe."

Eric shoved his chair back and said, "I'll take you home."

I added, "We'll all take you home."

"No, no." Emma said and looked at me. "I'll be fine. I've already ruined your evening. It's Saturday night and still early. I want you guys to have fun."

"Emma, I insist on taking you home. What kind of a man would I be if I didn't?" Eric implored, and Emma nodded.

We said our goodbyes, and moments later, John and I sat alone next to each other. The silence swirled around us like one of the early morning fogs that roll in off the ocean. Neither of us spoke and then finally John said, "Fucking nutcase."

I nodded. "He's totally stalking Emma."

John took a sip of his beer. "If only that bouncer hadn't stopped me, I could have taught that fucker a lesson he'd remember for a long time."

"Really? That's your answer to violence? More violence? An eye for an eye?"

John seemed surprised. "Of course not. There are times where you can use a more peaceful approach, but trust me, with guys like that Brian dude, there is only one solution, I'm afraid. He is going to keep stalking and harassing Emma until someone teaches him a lesson."

"Or puts him in jail," I added. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right about Brian. I didn't see peaceful conversations or therapy doing any good for him.

John leaned back and there was an awkward silence again. This night was not turning out as I had hoped.

He tipped the bottom of his glass to the ceiling and emptied it. "I need something stronger than this dish-soap water." He got up and looked at me. "Can I get you anything?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I've had enough. I should probably go home soon."

John stood up to go to the bar, too impatient to wait for the waitress. "You can't go home. The night is still young."

I sighed, "It's just...I don't feel so good. I don't do bar fights well." I felt frazzled and the crowd at the bar was getting on my nerves. Something about this whole altercation tonight had left me feeling unbalanced.

He leaned over and brushed his fingers lightly on my forearm as it lay on the table. His dark blue eyes met mine. His voice softened and he said, "Hey, let's go count the stars. Get some fresh air."

"I'd like that." Maybe the roar of the ocean waves would ground me and make me feel settled.

John cleared the bar tab and moments later we walked, hand in hand, toward the pier. The face of a full moon shone down upon us with each step we took down the empty streets of Summerville. The cool air made my skin prickle and the sea breeze filled my nostrils.

"Did I tell you I love the fresh smell of the ocean?"

"A few times," John chuckled. "Me too."

We stopped at a street corner, about a block from the shore, under a maple tree heavy with leaves, planted on the main street for ambiance. I tipped my chin up, as if I were balancing something on it, and closed my eyes. I filled my lungs with the salty air. Ever so lightly, I felt John's lips touched mine. Teasingly, he flicked the tip of his tongue around the edge and whispered, "I love the taste of your lips." He traced a lazy finger along the edge of my chin and down to the scoop edge of my white summer top stretched tightly across my chest. He trailed it back and forth along the edge of the fabric that crested over my breasts, itching to touch what was under it.

I parted my lips and drew him in for a deep kiss. No one was around, the streets were empty, and I indulged myself in the warmth of his kiss that radiated fiery hot waves of passion up and down my body. My hands grabbed the back of his neck, and my fingers shot up through locks of long dark hair. I loved tangling my fingers in it. The thickness sparked a memory of the mysterious charm he had over me, and my lust for him was ignited once again.

My brain swirled into happy explosions as a faint ruffling noise threatened to interrupt my skyrocketing endorphins. Then I became acutely alert to it. My eyes shot open and I gasped as I saw the figure of a man behind John. He rushed forward with his arm raised, wielding a rusty tire iron.

"John, look out!" I screamed.

It was Brian. What the hell?

John managed to move ever so slightly to the side and avoided getting hit straight in the head. Instead, the tire iron landed on his shoulder and he fell to the ground, shoving me away as he went down.

Brian fought dirty, and before John could react to protect himself Brian launched a hard kick with his heavy boot that landed on John's chest. I staggered back in sympathetic pain, as if struck by the blow myself, and gasped, sucking in air. What the fuck was this crazy freak's problem? Did he have a vendetta against us or something?

Brian continued the attack and lifted a worn cowboy boot high above John's head, aiming it directly toward his left temple. In the split second before the boot dropped to his head, John rolled away from its crushing path. As if shot up with a heavy dose of "speed," John launched a lightning-fast kick that caught Brian hard in the soft flesh behind the right knee, momentarily paralyzing him. He then rotated his other leg in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree circle, sweeping Brian's legs out from under him. Brian fell to the ground like an axed tree. John didn't stop. He flung his entire weight on Brian, and threw furious punches, accurately and strategically, until Brian was no longer moving.

Oh, holy fuck. What the hell just happened? John was like a madman, consumed with rage, locked into some kind of freaky autopilot mode, unstoppable, functioning at fullblown freakazoid level, like some kind of computer virus that just went viral. I covered my face with my hands and drew them down its surface.