Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
A tall, dark-haired guy claimed Dr. Smalley’s vacant bar stool, but I didn’t look closely at him.
“Hi,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth.
“Hi,” I said with no feeling whatsoever.
“Is this where the line forms to talk to you?”
“There’s no line.”
“There should be.”
I looked up at him—and my pulse immediately picked up. He had startling blue eyes, a wide, sensual mouth, and one of those jawlines you see in ads for cologne or expensive watches. It was just slightly stubbled, as if he didn’t want a beard to hide its magnificent architecture.
Now this was a duke.
He smiled with perfect teeth. “I’m Devlin.”
“Lexi.” As I shifted on my stool to face him, my elbow was suddenly jostled hard from behind, and my entire drink splashed onto his lap. I gasped. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”
The woman who’d bumped into me apologized profusely and moved away, while Devlin stood up and brushed the ice cubes to the floor. Hideously embarrassed, I set the empty glass on the bar and grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins. “Here, let me . . .” I paused with my hand hovering in front of his crotch, staring at the giant wet spot.
“Maybe I should do that,” he said, laughing as he took the napkins from me and tried to soak up the spill. “We did just meet.”
“Here, use this.” Silas appeared and handed Devlin a dry bar towel.
“Thanks,” he said. “But I think I’m just going to have to dry out. So what am I wearing?”
“A margarita,” I said sheepishly.
“Would you like another one? I’ll get it.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. You shouldn’t have to pay to replace the drink I just threw in your lap.”
“I’d like to.” He caught Silas’s eye. “She’ll take another margarita. I’ll take a Journeyman whiskey. Neat.”
Silas nodded. “You got it.”
Devlin tipped his head toward me. “Maybe bring hers with a lid on it. Do you have sippy cups?”
Silas laughed. “I’ll check the back.”
“Very funny,” I said, suddenly glad Gran had suggested this dress. It had a smocked waist, a deep V neckline, and straps that tied over my shoulders. The tiered skirt was short on my long legs, and I crossed them at the knee to show them off a little. I didn’t always love my thick, muscular thighs and ample rear end, but I’d grown to appreciate the way years of skiing had toned my body. I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to appreciate it too, but right now his eyes were still on his crotch.
“Be honest. Does it look like I had an accident?”
It totally did. “Not at all.”
“Are you lying to me?” He cocked his head, a grin teasing his mouth.
“Yes,” I confessed. “But only because I feel bad.”
“Maybe when your margarita arrives, I’ll dump it over your head. Would that make you feel better?”
I laughed and covered my head with my arms. “Don’t you dare. I blew out my hair tonight. I was supposed to have a big date.”
“Oh yeah? With who?”
“With my grandma’s recently widowed dentist, Dr. Smalley.”
Devlin grinned, glancing around. “So where is he? Don’t tell me he stood you up.”
“Oh, he was here. He spent twenty minutes telling me all about his amazing late wife and then informed me he’s not ready to move on, so he can’t be my boyfriend.”
“Then why did he ask you out?”
“He didn’t.” I smiled wryly. “My grandmother set up the date and then ambushed me with it this afternoon. But it gets worse.”
He laughed. “How can it get worse?”
“Turns out, the only reason he said yes to the date was because my grandmother had gone on and on about how lonely, sad, and socially awkward I am.” I shook my head. “He felt sorry for me.”
“You’re right. That is worse.”
Silas brought our drinks, and Devlin handed him a credit card.
“Thank you,” I said, picking up the margarita with both hands. “I promise to be more careful with this one.”
“You’re welcome.” He picked up his whiskey and took a sip. “Well, I’m sorry about the bad date and the meddling grandmother, but if it helps, your hair is beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”
“Thanks.” My stomach fluttered. Even if it was just a line from a guy who’d approached me at the bar, I still liked hearing it. It had been a while.
Also, this guy was ridiculously handsome.
A spark of anticipation ignited in my belly as my eyes wandered from his chiseled features to his shoulders and the tanned forearms extending from the rolled-up cuffs of his blue plaid shirt. His body looked athletic but lean, more like a point guard than a quarterback. He wore a chunky black and silver watch on his left wrist, and his hands were masculine and elegant at the same time, with long fingers and neatly trimmed nails.
I sensed my lady bits awakening from their long slumber, and I imagined Devlin as the prince in Sleeping Beauty, hacking away at the thorny, overgrown branches surrounding my O.