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It’s hard to believe you were once so good with men, because you are now officially a babbling idiot.She went to the window. Great, plenty of people down there, and a little cooler.
“Hello! Hi! We’re stuck up here! Hello!” Nope. Apparently, the band was too loud—“Let’s Spend the Night Together,” perfect—and not one person looked up.Connor, get your ass up here,she thought, hoping the psychic twin thing would work this time.
Twilight was falling softly over the party, the sky a beautiful shade of slate blue.
“Sit, Colleen,” Lucas said. He was already on the floor, his back against the wall, long legs crossed. Jeans. White shirt. That skin, that beautiful olive skin.
She sighed again and obeyed, crossing her arms grumpily. She sat kitty-corner from him.The better to see you, my dear.
A faint smile played on his mouth. He had a perfect mouth. Full and perfectly shaped and just a little sulky.
You really have it bad,Connor’s voice informed her.
“No kidding,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“Where’d you get the bracelets?” she asked, nodding her chin at the little woven strands around his wrist.
“Tiffany made this one for me. Cara did this one. My nieces.”
“I remember.” Hard to believe those girls would be, what...thirteen? Fourteen?
Lucas had always been a sweet uncle. And now he wore his nieces’ friendship bracelets, the kind that would have to stay on until you cut them off, which Colleen knew he wouldn’t do.
Dangerously appealing.
“You seem happier,” she said unexpectedly, and while she honestly wouldn’t have wished him to be miserable, the acknowledgment stabbed her.
He shrugged.
“Are you still working for your father-in-law?” Hey. Google didn’t exist for nothing.
“Ex-father-in-law. And yes, though I won’t be doing that much longer.”
“Starting your own company?” she asked.
“Yes. How did you know?”
She tugged her skirt to cover her knees. “It just seems like a better fit for you. You’re a loner. Or you were.”
“And you,mía?Are you happy?”
“Don’t call memía,okay? I might think all sorts of deliciously romantic things and start writing your name in my notebook.” She glanced out the window to the leaves of the big maple, which were rustling in the wind. “Yes, I’m happy.”
“You never...” His voice trailed off.
“Never what?” she asked a bit sharply.
“Never got married? Never came close?”
“Lucas, I’m insulted you never stalked me on Facebook.”
“No, I never did.”
And why would he? He had a life, a wife, a different time zone. He lived in the City of Big Shoulders, he was Frank Forbes’s son-in-law.
“You haven’t answered the question,” he said.
