Page 74 of Mr. Flirt

I giggled, nodding and extremely proud of myself.

“How about this?” I tried another.

“I’m afraid to hear.”

“Do you have some rubbing alcohol?”

Shep’s smile grew. “Why?”

“I scraped my knee falling for you.”

I was totally getting the hang of this.

Shep hung his head in his hands and laughed.

“I can tell you now.” Shep shook his head and looked at me. “You could use those lines on any guy in this bar, and they’d be eating out of your hand like a puppy dog. And that’s regardless of the fact that your pickup lines sound like knock-knock jokes.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you think so highly of my ability to persuade the opposite sex, but I can assure you it’s not like that. Do you want to know what men have told me?”

“Like what?”

I twisted my lips into a scowl. “Let’s see, I’ve heard I look angry. I’m distracted. I’m not soft. I’m rigid.”

“If men told you those things, it’s because they don’t know you.”

He polished off his drink and looked around the bar. “The night’s young. Do you want to head back to my place?”

“Yes, please.” I smiled as my pulse raced, and I shot out of the booth while Shep still sat there. “I thought you said we were going back to your place?”

Shep chuckled. “That was just an example of a solid line that works, but if you want to get out of here, we can.”

My hands rested on the table. “I don’t know how you do this to me. I really don’t.”

“Do what?”

I swallowed down the tightness I felt as I looked at the one man I really wanted.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Who has the Upper Hand?

Shep

Everything about Lucy drove me mad. She didn’t have a clue what a catch she was and how many men would be willing to run over each other to have a chance with her. But the worst part was that she didn’t want to be caught.

“Today was nuts at work,” she confessed. “It’s nice to have a night out with you, even if it’s working on a subject that I despise.”

I opened the door to my condo. “And what is that?”

“Love.”

This woman was really tough as nails. Even when I thought I was thawing out her heart a smidge, she’d come at with me a line like that one.

I touched her back softly as I helped take her coat off, and I felt her stiffen.

“Do you really hate love?” I asked, putting her coat in the closet.

She was quiet for a few minutes as she looked around my condo. I was sure it didn’t look that much different from yesterday, but I felt like she was buying herself time.

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