Page 4 of Cupid's Shot

“Are you getting nervous about what Taylor’s going to propose for St. Paddy’s on our next call?”

“I’m Nicholas O’Malley. I have St. Paddy’s covered.”

“Good!” I sigh with relief. Looking around the crowded bar, I say, “This event might even be more successful than our Christmas pop up.”

As Nicholas grabs printed drink orders, I pause for a moment. I’ve got an idea.Something more thoughtful.

I grab a cocktail glass and start mixing. A bit of gin, some lavender syrup, a splash of elderflower liqueur—something with an artistic flair, just like her. I choose a purple garnish, subtle but striking, and smile as I look at the finished product. It’s gotthat creative edge that reminds me of her, something unique but not over the top.

“Claire,” I call out again, handing her the drink. “Take this over to Legs, and don’t tell her who it’s from.” I press my finger to my lips.

3

“This is for Legs,” the server says, placing a cocktail in front of me.

“That’s beautiful!” Rachel swoons.

Taking my first sip, this drink is incredible. It’s floral and light. My eyes instinctively scan the bar, searching for a clue, someone who might be watching me. No one’s making eye contact. No one’s giving off “secret admirer” vibes.Is it the guy in the red bowling shirt?I cringe at the thought.Please, no.Or maybe it’s the guy pumping his fist by the DJ booth, lost in his own world.Definitely not.

“I’m going to go ask Aaron who bought me this drink,” I inform the girls. My patience is running thin.

“Oh, come on!” Emily squints at me. “Let the fantasy play out a little.”

“Nah. I need to know.” I’ve never been known for being a patient person.

“What if it’s him?” Rachel asks.

“Aaron?” I laugh. “It’s not April Fool’s Day.”

“It would be impressive if it was him,” Emily says. “The poor guy is slammed.”

Sliding off the tall boy chair, I head toward the bar with my eyes already drawn to Aaron. He’s so much taller than I remember. Back in high school, we were more or less the same height, but now he towers over me by at least six inches. Distracted, I find myself staring at the cuts and divots in his abs, the corded muscles of his arms. If I stare any longer, I might drool.

“Aaron!” I yell after standing there for a few more seconds than I’d like. He looks up from filling a row of drinks with ice. “Did I scare you?” I ask, tilting my head, trying to figure out why he’s looking at me like that.

He laughs, shaking his head. “No. What’s up?”

What’s up?Well, for starters,when did you get so hot?I keep that internal thought just that. His shaggy, brown hair is tousled just right, and his light brown eyes catch the dim lighting in a way that feels ... warm. Inviting.

“Please tell me the guy in the bowling shirt is not buying me drinks,” I blurt out, cutting straight to the point.

A smile grows on his face before he says, “It’s not him.”

“Well, spill already.”

Aaron gestures to the wings strapped to his back, pointing to them with both thumbs. “See these wings?” My eyes betray me, scanning his chest and farther down. His abs …Why am I fantasizing about licking his abs?“I’m Cupid,” he says, and my mind refocuses. “And Cupid doesn’t tell.”

I groan, throwing my head back for emphasis. “Come on! At least give me a hint.”

He hesitates, looking around the room. “Your secret admirer is more obvious than you’re thinking.”

“Is it the girls?!”

“I gave you a hint.” His tone is firmer this time, and for some reason, it sends a shiver down my spine.Why did I find that so sexy?“See these orders? I am working here.”

“Fine,” I huff, turning on my heel and stomping back to my friends.So frustrating!

“You’re not messing with me, right?” I ask Emily and Rachel as soon as I reach the table. “These drinks aren’t from you guys or from Nicholas being nice?”

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