Page 74 of The Innocent

What?

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Gent snickered and looked across the room just as the prospect came back with their drinks. As soon as they were placed on the table, she grabbed the glass and took a large sip.

“Tongue trick is still on the table, but we got other things we gotta take care of first.”

She knitted her brows. “Like what?”

“Nickname.”

She remembered him mentioning it when they’d first met.

“What’s wrong with Imogene?”

It may not be traditionally beautiful or very popular, but she liked it. It was different and unique.

“You need something better.”

That’s rude.

“I’m named after my great-grandmother,” she countered.

“Darlin’, you think my parents named me Gent?” He raised his brows. “You know Jekyll’s real name, right? We all got road names. Just offering you one. Trying to be all inclusive.”

Oh well, in that case.

“Okay, thank you.”

He bowed his head, chuckling. Clearly she was missing something.

“What about red? Like my hair.” She pulled on a strand.

Gent squinted. “Too obvious.”

True.

“What about shortening my last name? Like Pepper?”

“Nah.” He smiled. “I got one though. Cherry. Like the hair but sweet and innocent.”

Cherry. It was cute.

“I like it.”

“Then, Cherry it is.” Gent winked and grabbed his glass, taking a sip.

Imogene had to admit, even though he did have some disturbing qualities, he had his moments. And if not for Gent, she would’ve been crushed against the wall by herself. Maybe this was the start of a friendship. She took another sip of her drink. And then another. She was starting to finally ease a little. Thank you, alcohol.

She glanced over at Gent, who was scanning the room. She couldn’t tell if he was looking for someone in particular. Without his eyes on her, she was given the time to truly stare at him. He was handsome with chiseled features and a strong jawline. His red hair was lighter than hers, carelessly styled as if he didn’t spend any time on it. Yet, it was as if every hair was perfectly placed.

He must’ve felt her stare, because without warning, he shifted his gaze to her. Light blue eyes, similar to hers. It reminded her of a study she’d read about years ago.

“You know, if you and I had children, the likelihood of them being redheads is significantly high.”

“Is that right?”

“I mean, they’d have to carry the gene, and there are some other factors, but we’d have a good shot at them being little gingers.”