Page 57 of The Knockout Rule

“If you know me so well, Mr. Mansplainer, what type of person am I?” This would be good. More entertaining than discussing the complications of love.

Preston paused again. Re-crossed his legs again. Then he met her eyes. “I know you’re as stubborn as your father and don’t like leaning on others. I know you’re smart and can do anything you put your mind to. I know your dark eyes remind me of the horizon as the moon rises on a cloudless night, and I know you twitch your nose before you laugh, Isla. I also know how you…” Preston trailed off, his gaze shifting away.

Isla froze, unprepared for the intimate turn in conversation, how seen she felt. By a man she hadn’t spent that much time with. She tried to recall her conversations with Preston, what they’d discussed, how she’d acted. Nothing explained his intuitive words.

“You also know how I…what?” He hadn’t finished his sentence, and she was on the literal edge of her seat, having scooted forward. Not because she was starry-eyed and fluttery. Their chemistry was still as dormant as a bear in winter, but his sudden knowledge of her drive to always go it alone had her itching to hear what else he had to say.

Instead of replying, he opened his suit jacket and touched the inside. He fiddled with the pin on his lapel, then tugged at his ear. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You didn’t finish what you were saying.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Uh, nope. No, you didn’t.” The guy was losing his marbles. “You said, and I quote: I also know how you…and then you stopped.”

“Did I?” He rubbed his chin. “Guess I ran out of awesome things to say about you.”

She sputtered out a laugh. Preston was certainly funny and a bit of an odd duck. Probably best if they steered clear of future poetry talk. Sparring with him was more fun. “I bet your head’s too busy cataloguing the gold bars in your diamond vault to keep track of all your errant thoughts.”

He grinned. “You mean the gold watches in my ruby jewelry box.”

She stuck her straw in her mouth and sipped the rest of her fruity drink, making extra sucking sounds at the end. He made a face. She sucked harder. “Do you actually have a ruby jewelry box?”

“Of course I do. Should I order you another strawberry slushie with a shot of insulin on the side?”

“Only if you order yourself the most expensive bourbon on the menu.”

“Is that a challenge?” The gleam in his eye was too much.

She laughed. “You know it is.”

He snorted and waved the waitress over. She was blonde and petite, wearing a bustier and slacks. Compared to the other servers, she was shy and soft spoken, pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. The second Preston ordered his Scotch, she blushed something fierce. “No problem. I’ll get right on that.” She ducked her head, looked back once as she walked away, smiling at him.

Isla leaned forward. “She likes you.”

He darted a glance to the pretty waitress then back to Isla. “She barely spoke to me.”

“She had that shy, overwhelmed vibe about her, like she was smitten. You should ask her out.”

He gave Isla an appraising look and ran his hand through his hair. “Aren’t we out on a date?”

That might have been the intention, along with distraction. But there was no point pretending this might go somewhere. “Tell me honestly—do you feel chemistry between us? Like rip-my-clothes-off chemistry?”

He eyed her body. “You’re hot.”

“Not what I asked.”

He peeked up at her bashfully. “You feel like a fun sister?”

She touched her nose. “Bingo.”

“I really wanted to like you, though. You’re the type of woman I pictured taking home to meet my family. I don’t get what’s missing.”

The intangible thing that made relationships terrifying. The thing you couldn’t name or bottle or choose. “That’s sweet. And I wanted to like you, too,” she said softly.

More to the point, she didn’t want to like his client.

Two hours later, they were tipsy and laughing as they got off the elevator on her floor. Preston had secured a date with the sweet blonde, and they’d had an entertaining night. One she hoped would be repeated while in Vegas. But it would be back to the dating app for her. To find the impossible someone who thought and looked like Eric and acted like Preston when Preston wasn’t showing off his money. Which was only about ten percent of the time. So ninety percent Eric and ten percent Preston.