Page 6 of Make-Believe Match
“Hi,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth.
“Hi,” I said with no feeling whatsoever.
“Is this where the line forms to talk to you?”
“There’s no line.”
“There should be.”
I looked up at him—and my pulse immediately picked up. He had startling blue eyes, a wide, sensual mouth, and one of those jawlines you see in ads for cologne or expensive watches. It was just slightly stubbled, as if he didn’t want a beard to hide its magnificent architecture.
Nowthiswas a duke.
He smiled with perfect teeth. “I’m Devlin.”
“Lexi.” As I shifted on my stool to face him, my elbow was suddenly jostled hard from behind, and my entire drink splashed onto his lap. I gasped. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”
The woman who’d bumped into me apologized profusely and moved away, while Devlin stood up and brushed the ice cubes to the floor. Hideously embarrassed, I set the empty glass on the bar and grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins. “Here, let me...” I paused with my hand hovering in front of his crotch, staring at the giant wet spot.
“Maybe I should do that,” he said, laughing as he took the napkins from me and tried to soak up the spill. “Wedidjust meet.”
“Here, use this.” Silas appeared and handed Devlin a dry bar towel.
“Thanks,” he said. “But I think I’m just going to have to dry out. So what am I wearing?”
“A margarita,” I said sheepishly.
“Would you like another one? I’ll get it.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. You shouldn’t have to pay to replace the drink I just threw in your lap.”
“I’d like to.” He caught Silas’s eye. “She’ll take another margarita. I’ll take a Journeyman whiskey. Neat.”
Silas nodded. “You got it.”
Devlin tipped his head toward me. “Maybe bring hers with a lid on it. Do you have sippy cups?”
Silas laughed. “I’ll check the back.”
“Very funny,” I said, suddenly glad Gran had suggested this dress. It had a smocked waist, a deep V neckline, and straps that tied over my shoulders. The tiered skirt was short on my long legs, and I crossed them at the knee to show them off a little. I didn’t always love my thick, muscular thighs and ample rear end, but I’d grown to appreciate the way years of skiing had toned my body. I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to appreciate it too, but right now his eyes were still on his crotch.
“Be honest. Does it look like I had an accident?”
It totally did. “Not at all.”
“Are you lying to me?” He cocked his head, a grin teasing his mouth.
“Yes,” I confessed. “But only because I feel bad.”
“Maybe when your margarita arrives, I’ll dump it over your head. Would that make you feel better?”
I laughed and covered my head with my arms. “Don’t you dare. I blew out my hair tonight. I was supposed to have a big date.”
“Oh yeah? With who?”
“With my grandma’s recently widowed dentist, Dr. Smalley.”
Devlin grinned, glancing around. “So where is he? Don’t tell me he stood you up.”
