Sweetly, Delphine sighs, frustrated with my rugged ways. “Do you at least have cologne for your date?”
Fuck,isthis a date? My dream can’t be coming true this quickly. Alena just grabbed an extra steak at the grocery store. That’s it.
Don’t overthink it.
I wince. “Won’t that be too obvious?”
“No, you are right.” She flits a laugh. “Go to her smelling like a pig. Love at first whiff.”
Delphine’s sarcasm is the best. The kings love pissing her off just to hear it.
“Yes, ma’am. Turning off the shower now.” I let her hear me sniff my pits. “Whoo-ee! I sure smell ripe.”
“Loch!” It’s hilarious when she yells. She fires a slew of French at me. I recognizeputain. It means “fuck,” and she sure taught me how.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” I grin. “Got it. T-shirt. Jeans. Cologne and a leather belt. I’ll tie it around her wrists and please her for hours.”
“Ouais. That is my big little lion. Make me proud.”
She ends our call, and I jump into the shower. While I get dressed, I give Boner a firm lecture about his limp behavior tonight.
But my heart?
It’s pounding out of control.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALENA
This isn’t a date.
I mean, if my new colleague were a woman who lived next door, I’d invite her for dinner. If it were a sweet, dumpy man? Sure, I’d do the same.
So the fact that I have an extra steak and invited my beefy neighbor for dinner does not make this a date.
Until Loch knocks on my door, and I open it.
Hit by his smile.
Mauled by his muscles.
Destroyed by his subtle cologne.
I lift my nose—tobacco, vanilla, and notes of hot man.God, I’m in trouble.Friends don’t make friends wet between the legs.
“Hey.” I keep it low-key. “Do you like sweet potatoes?”
And I do it by asking him about root vegetables?
Smooth, Alena.
“Love ’em.” From behind his back, he presents a six-pack. “Hope you love beer too. Sorry. Didn’t have time to buy wine.”
Wine. That’s what you bring on dates, right? So is this one? And he’sherefor it?
“Thanks. Actually, I prefer beer.” I take the cardboard carrier, our hands brushing. “Second to Slurpees, of course.”
Turning toward my kitchen, my tummy cartwheels as he follows me inside, laughing when he sees Mutt. “Guess he’s made himself at home.”
