“Hang on now, I like men,” I argue. I’ve had a few crushes over the years. “What about—"
“Ethan Stone doesn’t count,” she says. “He’s an actor.”
“But he’s so hot.” I pretend to fan myself. “And then there’s—”
“Hockey players don’t count either.” Lewis gives me a get real look. “And neither does that not-so-secret crush you had on your brother’s friend. Unless…” He draws the last word out like he’s stumbled across treasure. “Is he why you don’t date?”
“What? No.” My heart skips a beat. I’m pretty sure it’s low potassium and not the man we’re talking about. I should probably take a supplement. “That was years ago.”
“Good, because that guy is as unattainable as Hollywood’s biggest dick and a hockey player put together.”
“You met him once,” I say. “He’s actually a great guy.”
“I met him twice,” he says. “And as a hetero man I will admit he’s a sexy piece, but he’s a commitment phobic loner with some serious hang-ups.”
“You got his measure in two meetings?” I ask overly sweetly. “I’ve only known him since I was thirteen.”
“Forget about him.” Kiki squeezes my arm. “We should be talking about men you can actually date.”
“I don’t have to forget about him.” I snag a bear claw from the carton. “I’m not interested in him.”
“Good, then you won’t have an issue reviewing the app,” Lewis says, eyeing the donut in my hand.
“Why can’t Kiki do it?”
“Oh no.” She narrows her gaze on me. “You two leave me out of it.”
“Actually…” Lewis’s mouth curls up slightly in the corners. The fingers on one hand drum on the opposite forearm. “That might be an idea.”
“Here we go.” Teasing, Kiki groans and covers her face with one hand as she sinks in her seat.
“You should both sign up,” he announces it like he’s the mayor of brilliant ideas.
“Or neither of us could.” I shake my head.
“I’ll do it, if you will.” Kiki glances at me and shrugs. “It could be fun.”
“Dating isn’t on my shit to do list.” I bite into the sweet and tart filling of my donut. Ohmygawd, so good. Oh-oh flashes in my head like a red and blue light. The sugar lights up portions of my brain like the sweet addictive substance it is. If I’d chosen a chocolate I would be so screwed right now. “Do you not remember the last time I agreed to a date Lewis set up?”
“That was unfortunate.” Kiki purses her lips and tugs on a curl, stretching it out and letting it bounce back into a tight coil.
“Unfortunate is not the word I would use.” I snort under my breath. “It was life threatening.”
“I can’t believe you’re bringing this up.” Lewis groans.
“You’re not giving me a choice,” I say.
“We think it’d be a good idea for you to meet new people,” Lewis argues.
“I had to go to the emergency room,” I remind him. It wasn’t Lewis’s fault that I ended up in the ER with half my face twice the size of the other. But it was his fault that I went out with that jackass at all. The guy thought I’d want to continue the evening once he drove me home. It was the mother of all blind date ambushes.
“It was pretty awful,” Kiki says, siding with me.
Awful doesn’t begin to describe how truly awkward and embarrassing that date had been. Along with the Claritin and Benadryl had come a certain amount of clarity. Dating isn’t for me. It’s for other people. People who like the challenge of seeing how many dinners with strangers they can dress up for only to find out said stranger is the last person they wished to waste an hour with, let alone get stuck in a life-threatening emergency with.
“Just think about using the app,” Lewis says. “You don’t have to meet anyone unless you want to. It could simply be a nice way to get to know people without the pressure of having to do it face-to-face.”
“I’ll think about it.” I sigh. That’s all I’m willing to concede.
“Thank you,” Lewis says.
“Now could we please get to work?” I shut down the conversation about my love life. At least for now. I doubt it’s the last I’ll hear about this app. “Did you have any luck with the chandeliers?”
A grin stretches across Lewis’s cheeks. “Does your love life need a shot of adrenaline and a couple shock paddles to the chest?”
“So you didn’t? Damn it.” My heart sinks.
Kiki snickers behind her coffee cup but taps away at her tablet, preparing to jot down any notes or tasks I need her to do. “The answer to both those questions is yes.”
I wiggle a finger at her. “You’re not supposed to take his side. You’re my assistant, remember? I can fire you.”
“As if you could take over the world without me.” She taps away on the screen. Her nails are a summery orange color.
“Unfortunately,” I tease as I study the itemized list we still need to work through before I meet with the Gladstone Group next week. She really is the best assistant I could ask for. “Talk to me about the chandeliers.”
“Kiki found a local supplier who can rush order them in.” Lewis steeples his fingers and rests his chin on the tips. “I’ve got the names of a couple of electricians and interviews with each of them lined up. We’ll be able to hit the ground running. Happy?”
“Yes.” I wiggle in my seat. All we need is final approval from the board and we’ll be ready to put the wheels in motion. “I could hug you.”
Chapter Three
Lily
My brother’s best friend blocks the entrance of Hudson and Jane’s house. One arm stretches above his head, his fingers gripping the wooden edging of the door frame while his sky blue eyes, framed by a pair of adorkable glasses, smile down at me.
His corded bicep flexes, the sinew defined under a sleeve tattoo of black roses and thorns and other details that most people haven’t had a chance to stare at for so long they start to stand out from the rest of the motif. Black cotton with the familiar Line ‘Em Up logo from the bar where he and my brother both work stretches across his torso. The hem rides up his hip, exposing bronze skin and hewn rectus abdominus and oblique muscles that still bother me when I catch a peek of them.
Vale Westerly. Bartender. Tech genius. The other pain in the ass older brother. Well, pseudo brother. It would be incredibly wrong of me to have had the fantasies I have had about him if we were related in any way. At all. But he’s one of my brother Hudson’s closest pals and he’s been around for almost half my life.
“Hey there, Lily, I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he says.
“You are aware that he’s my brother, aren’t you? And this is our family dinner.” I roll my gaze at him like the teenage brat me used to do. Some habits die hard, and some don’t die at all. Extended family dinners and ribbing each other has always been part of our relationship. “If anyone should be surprised, it should be me at the fact that you still show up weekly.”