He grinned. “That’s cheating.”
She smiled. “It is.”
“But what about when you weren’t buying the round?”
“I didn’t always drink it or drink as much.”
“If you didn’t drink it, where’d it go?”
“I spilled some on the table, which I quickly mopped up with a napkin.”
“I never saw you do that.”
She smiled. “I also put some in Dario’s and Celeste’s glasses when they weren’t looking, when they got up to use the restroom.”
“But not mine?”
“No, not yours.”
He smiled. “That was nice of you.”
“Niceness had nothing to do with it. They were drinking scotch like me. You were drinking bourbon. Also, you were more—observant.”
“Oh.”
“Please don’t tell them.”
“It’s a secret. I can’t.”
“I even managed to spill some in Carolyn Wickham’s purse.”
His jaw dropped. “You did?!”
She nodded.
His eyes sparkled as he laughed, and then he gazed into her eyes.
It felt as though—But no, she thought. She wouldn’t allow herself to think it, let alone act upon it.
Better to throw some cold water on the situation and retain her sanity.
“You can let go of my hand now.”
“Okay, but you gotta do one more thing.”
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “What?”
“Come on,” he said, dragging her behind him as he headed down the hallway.
She dug in her heels.
He stopped and turned around but still had yet to let go of her hand. She was surprised his hold could be so firm and not hurt.
“Don’t worry,” he said, that wicked grin on his face, “I’m not going to jump you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
His response surprised her. Did it also disappoint her?No, she thought emphatically. He was drunk. Really drunk. If they slepttogether, the best she could hope for was that he wouldn’t remember it. Because if he did, he was sure to regret it.
He resumed walking down the hallway, pulling her after him, clearly thinking his response adequate.
