She waved an embarrassed hand. “I’m sorry. Look at me going on. Let’s talk about something else.”
Fine by him. “So, what is it you do?”
She looked at him as if he were the slow one here—as if he should know this. “I flip houses. What do you do?”
How ironic. He was surrounded by hockey fans and he was sitting next to the only person who hadn’t a clue who he was. Now he was more than intrigued. So instead of politelyexcusing himself, he said, “I’m in construction, too. New builds, not flips.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Why, do I not look like I can swing a hammer?”
Her gaze dropped to his arms and he found himself flexing. “I don’t know. You just don’t seem the type to get his hands dirty.”
He laughed. “Do you like a guy who can get dirty?”
She rolled her eyes. “Does that line usually work for you?”
Yes, it did. Decker wasn’t just an MVP; he had a PhD in banter. His flirt game was so strong all it took was a strategically placed comment and women were asking if they were headed to his place or hers.
“You tell me.”
This time when she snorted, it was followed by a carefree laugh. “Most definitely not. I’m more of an emotional connection kind of person. Flirting is easy. It’s the real stuff that makes a date good.”
“Five minutes ago you told me you were going to stand me up, and now you’re telling me my flirting is a cliché?”
“I could say no, but then I’d be lying, and I suck at lying. Too many details to keep track of.”
Wasn’t that refreshing. If it were true. Because based on his experience with women there were always a few little white lies deep down that had the potential to blow things sky high.
“So you’re an angel?”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t date. You don’t lie. And you’d rather spend the night playing with your toolbox.”
“Better than spending it with a tool,” she said with such an innocent smile he had to laugh.
“Are you suggesting I’m a tool?”
“You were the one talking about my box.”
“No box talk. Got it.”
Before he could say more, the bartender came over. “What can I get you two?”
The green-eyed beauty studied the bartender, then the exit, and finally him. She was going to bolt. If he was a smart man, he’d let her. Being in public with a beautiful woman after his day was asking for trouble. He was supposed to be focusing on how to fix things, not charm a woman out of her panties. But this was the first time he’d felt like a normal guy without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t want it to end.
“I really do have to get going,” she said.
“At least let me buy you one drink. That way you can tell your aunt you didn’t stand me up.”
God, he was an ass. Instead of correcting her mistake, he was playing along. Oh, but what a fun game it was turning out to be.
The bartender narrowed her eyes as if trying to place him, and it took everything he had not to pull his ball cap down even farther and disappear into his hoodie.
Angel seemed to weigh her options, and he knew the moment she gave in, because she let out a sigh. “Fine. One drink. But then I really do have to go.”
“Unless I can convince you to turn that one drink into two.”
