Page 2 of Mistletoe Mischief

Her smile softened. "Yes, she does. A tremendous heart. And though her personal life is not as full as it should be, she's a fabulous judge of character. She told me you had the heart of a tiger and would catch the person responsible."

Roger laughed at the comparison. "I don't know about a tiger."

"Well," Cassandra cautioned, "just remember this is the cat lady. Everything revolves around cats one way or another."

Roger couldn't remember enjoying a conversation more, even though it was pretty mundane. "I'm glad you called me. This has been totally enjoyable."

She blinked at him and frowned. "You know, you're absolutely right. You don't have fifty-eight relatives living in your two-bedroom apartment, do you? Or ten pit bulls in your back yard?"

Roger shook his head. "Nope, sorry."

"Criminal record?"

He shook his head again. "Squeaky clean."

"Paying child support to six kids by seven different mothers?"

Laughing, he shrugged lightly. "I would love to be a father someday, but no. What can I say? I'm a good guy."

She scowled theatrically, eyeing him up and down. "You sound too good to be true. I better snatch you up. Wanna get married?"

Laughing out loud, skin tingling from her perusal, he smacked the bar with his good hand. "Hot damn, woman. You're some kind of wonderful. Yes, I'll marry you."

A considering, thoughtful light entered her eyes and she tipped her chin up. "I don't know about marriage, yet, but you definitely earned a second date."

Roger shuddered dramatically to make her laugh, but inside he was enormously thrilled with the progress of the night. Maybe he wasn't a total lost cause after all.

* * *

Cassandra stared at the delicious, model perfect man sitting beside her on the barstool. She couldn’t help herself. Roger Stottsberry was a real, honest to goodnessgentleman. A damned handsome gentleman, no less. Kind of took a girl off guard to be treated so nicely, especially when she wasn’t used to it.

Cass forced her gaze to look away. She didn’t know any of these people circling the room, but they had welcomed her with open arms, some of them literally. Roger was obviously well-liked in this group and they seemed surprised and genuinely happy when she’d shown up to be his date for the Christmas Eve party.

It made her wonderwhythey’d been so surprised.

“Are you gay?”

Roger choked on the swallow of beer he’d just taken. “What?”

Cass clamped her mouth shut as he swiveled toward her. Thick, muscular thighs were braced on the supports of the stool and his dark jeans were tight across his hips, leaving her in no doubt of what he carried in there. The man wore a nice T-shirt under a button down red and blue checked flannel shirt, tucked into his waistband. She wanted to make a joke about moobs and cleavage, but she worried that he would realize how fascinated she was with the center line between his heavy pectoral muscles. Not a lot of hair, which was fine with her. Damn she wanted to explore, though. A curl of arousal lit low in her tummy and she really,reallyhoped he wasn’t gay.

Roger glared at her incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe what she’d asked.

Cass shrugged. “Do you blame me for thinking it? You’re too pretty not to be.”

Roger tipped back his head and laughed deeply, his whole chest moving with the emotion. Several people looked their way, smiling, and she felt a little embarrassed at drawing attention.

Then, his laughter slowly faded. He turned back to face forward, bracing his elbows on the bar as he held the beer bottle between his hands. He seemed to be looking at the prosthetic.

She didn’t like feeling like she’d done something to hurt him. Leaning over, she bumped his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

With a single tip of the head, he saluted her with the beer bottle as he took a sip.

“I’m fine. Thank you for the ego stroking. It’s been a while.”

“I meant every word.”

There was a shuffle at the bar as the big guy with the terribly scarred face grabbed a fresh beer from the cooler beneath the bar.