AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I glanced over to my left and spotted an older, balding man. Some serious gold chains surrounded his neck and nestled in a pelt of chest hair proudly displayed between the lapels of a printed collared shirt. He leered, clearly assuming he’d found his evening entertainment. Unless watching “this chick” drown her sorrows was his idea of a fun time, he was shit out of luck. I might have been single, jobless, and one glass away from entering the drunk zone, but I wasn’t desperate. His wink was smarmier than his pickup line.
“Sorry, but I’d prefer to be alone right now.”
He gave me a blank look, choosing to ignore my gentle, “get lost, buddy” vibe. “Sweetheart, I’m a big-time record producer with some high-powered clients. Could get you into a VIP party tonight.”
Uh-huh. I focused back on my drink, not in the mood to deal with this guy.
“I have a thirty-foot yacht out on the water if you want to go check it out.”
Did this type of shit actually work on women? Judging by his confident air, it had probably earned him a blow job or two. Blech. I took another swig of my water. “Yeah, well, since I’m still in the first trimester, I’ll have to pass on the boat. Morning sickness and all.”
I had the pleasure of turning in time to watch his face blanch. “But—but—you’re drinking alcohol.”
I toasted him with my Scotch. “Yep, drinking for two. And no offense, but I don’t get down on my knees for anything less than a forty-footer.”
He quickly scurried away while I laughed.
Teddy raised a brow.
“Don’t judge. I’m sans child, don’t give a crap about boats, and it was the quickest way to get rid of that creep.”
“I’ll have what the lady is having,” came the sexy voice from my right.
Please don’t let this belong to another skeevy man trying to woo me with the length of his boat. My gaze floated to the stranger who slid into the vacant stool next to me, and widened when I caught sight of the face belonging to the husky timbre. Was this my gift for a horrible day?
He grinned once he had his Scotch in hand and held it up as if for a toast. I didn’t hesitate to clink my glass to his because why the hell not? He was smokin’ hot with his perfect white teeth, tanned skin, and amber eyes. His hair was dark and short, styled in a way which said he took the time, but not in a way which said he used more product than I did.
I swore he could have been a movie star with the chin alone. Perfectly square with a dimple.
“What are we toasting?” My words came out on a whisper. Perhaps this gorgeous man in a well-tailored suit was a figment of my imagination, and if I spoke too loudly, he’d disappear.
His eyes danced with amusement. “A number of things, really. Like, perhaps, the most creative way of getting rid of an unwanted come-on.”
He’d apparently overheard the exchange. “And my sick sense of humor doesn’t have you running for the hills?”
He chuckled, the baritone sound sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. “Not yet.”
“You into crazy girls?” I was far from it, but after telling my mom off and quitting my job, perhaps I was ready to embrace the new title.
His fingers scratched his chin in dramatic fashion. “How crazy we talking?”
“‘Four glasses of liquor deep at my ex-fiancé’s wedding to my little sister’ crazy.”
He let out a low whistle, seemingly unfazed by my words. “Damn. Makes for awkward holidays.”
“I’ll say.” Not as though my parents had ever been the type for family holidays. They’d either chosen to work—my father in his law firm, my mother as the on-call physician—or they’d jetted off for a tropical island without their children.
“Do you have a name, or should I just refer to you as the crazy girl?”
His charm factor was off the charts. “The name is Brooke.”
He took my extended hand in his, allowing me closer inspection. Some women were suckers for smiles, eyes, or the way a man dressed, but me, I gravitated toward a man’s hands. Something about the capability they might show, whether sexual or not, was a real turn-on for me. His didn’t disappoint. Strong, masculine, with some calluses on the inside of his palms like he worked out, and trimmed, clean nails. No Hollywood manicure for this guy.
“Hello, Brooke. I’m Lucas.”
Since he was dressed in a suit, I had to ask. “What brings you here?”
Please don’t be a wedding guest, please don’t be a wedding guest.
