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“Did somebody say strawberry margaritas?” Stone stopped at the table wearing a wide grin, a pitcher of margaritas in one hand and a pitcher of beer in the other.
“Stone,” Olive shrieked. “How did you know?”
“Sophie’s favorite drink,” he said around a grin. “How tipsy is she?”
“Tipsy,” Sophie confirmed with a grin of her own. She and Stone were great together. Compatible, good-looking, and with a connection that some married couples didn’t possess, they claimed to be just friends. They were the blind idiots Sage was talking about. Not me.
“Happy I could help. Got room for more?”
“Of course.” Sophie slid around the table so that Olive was sandwiched between us and she stood between Olive and Stone. Tara showed up in her street clothes and moments later, Liam took the spot beside me, a gorgeous smile on his face as he greeted everyone.
“Lookin’ good, Eva.” His gaze raked me over appreciatively, but I knew there was nothing to it—Liam liked women in the purest sense of the word.
“Thank you, Liam. And you’re wearing the GI Joe look magnificently.” His black hair was closely cropped as always, and his hazel eyes looked exotic against his olive skin, darkened by weeks and months spent in figurative and literal hotspots around the globe.
“Thanks,” he said shyly and rubbed a hand over his thick black hair. “Olive. Looking prim and proper as ever.”
“Liam,” she practically growled at him in greeting, making me wonder if there was some history there I didn’t know about.
Instead of being offended, Liam shrugged. And laughed. “A pleasure, as always. Miss Manners.”
Olive sucked in an outraged breath and I knew it was only a matter of time before she said something she would certainly regret in the morning. “Not now, Olive. You’re tipsy and Liam only said hello.”
“Hello,” she mimicked in his deep voice. “It’s never just hello with that guy. Just keep him… over there.” She motioned to where he stood—away from her—drinking his beer and looking around. People watching.
“He’s over there and he is minding his business, unlike someone else I won’t mention by name.”
Olive blinked and put a hand to her chest in question. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. Nice to everyone except the SEAL who’s still doing badass things to keep us all safe.”
Olive snorted. “It’s the most redeemable thing about him. Other than his face. And body.”
Liam snickered, proving he’d heard every word, and I glared at him, silently threatening his manhood if he didn’t stop. “My lips are sealed,” he said and promptly threw away the imaginary key.
That was the most dramatic the night got, at least until Declan Cassidy showed up sometime after midnight. The crowd, including Olive, went wild as he sang five songs to the adoring local audience.
It was a good night filled with good friends, excellent conversation and, best of all, no thoughts of Oliver.
Almost no thoughts of him.
Very few thoughts, anyway.OliverDate number one had been an unmitigated disaster and I hadn’t looked back. Date number two was promising. Carly was a corporate attorney who knew exactly what she wanted out of life, on top of being gorgeous and independent and wealthy in her own right. She was exactly the kind of woman I’d choose to spend a long weekend in bed with, under the right circumstances.
Too bad Carly was looking for love with a capital L, and she’d told me as much. Not just that, she knew all about the bet, too, and was hoping there would be a spark. “It would’ve been wild to be the one who tamed you, but I can see that your heart already belongs to someone else. When you figure it out, good luck.” She’d ended our date with a knowing smile and a slow kiss to my cheek. “I’m betting on Time For Love.”
Eva would’ve been happy to hear that but, as it was, I hadn’t heard from her in four days. Four damn days. She hadn’t even bothered to call me to let me know the details for date number three. If not for Olive and Sophie, I’d be at home in sweats, drinking beer, and catching up on SportsCenter instead of standing outside the designated meeting spot, nervously waiting to meet yet another woman looking for happily ever after.
The date tonight wasn’t at Carriage House, which felt kind of odd since that place had started to feel a bit like home. This place was different, more upscale and obviously romantic. From the outside, I could see the dark wood and leather furnishings, the dim lighting and intimate seating—all signs that this place wasn’t your average pick-up spot. I ducked away from the window just in case my date had already arrived and pulled out my phone.
“Trouble already,” Sophie asked, amusement in her voice when she answered my call. “I gave you at least an hour before you screwed it up.”
