CHAPTER 1
Men are like pancakes. The first few will be duds. Keep cooking!
— MATCHMAKING MAMAS
Silas
Taco Loco was buzzingwith animated chatter during Happy Hour. I detoured around two tables and took the long route to the corner where my two best friends, Maverick and Jamie, waited for our weekly bitch sesh.
Even so, the bartender noticed me. He lifted his big hand and waggled it at me.
“Drinks on me tonight, Sy!”
I ducked my head and sped up, pretending I hadn’t noticed. Paxton was hot. Seriously model-worthy genes in that man. I’d flirted with him for months hoping to get a closer view.
We’d finally hooked up last weekend, and…the sex had been bad.Reallybad. The kind of bad that I didn’t know still happened outside of high school.
I shuddered and tried not to think about it as I took my seat with Maverick and Jamie. Thankfully, they’d ordered before I arrived, and a beautiful red cocktail sat waiting.
If nothing else, Paxton made a damn good cosmo.
I dropped into the chair with a sigh and picked up my drink. “Hey, guys. Thanks for ordering.”
“Sure,” Jamie said. “Usually, I’m the one who’s late, but now that I’m out of catering, I have more time than I know what to do with.”
“Stop bragging,” I snarked. “I had to drive one of my brides to Omaha today to go to three—count them,three—bridal shops to look at gowns because she let her mom talk her into the first one and realized she hated it.”
“Oy.” Maverick grimaced. “Is that even your job?”
I heaved a sigh. “My job is to help my couples organize a perfect, stress-free event. So, if watching her try on gowns and reassuring her that she’s chosen the perfect one makes her feel better, then that’s what I do.”
“That’s sweet,” Jamie said.
“But weird.” Maverick took a sip of his margarita on the rocks. “You’re so good at helping engaged couples, and yet too jaded to even date someone.”
I shrugged. “Gotta pay the bills somehow. I’m good at organizing shit.”
Maverick didn’t look convinced, but the server arrived, saving me from the usual lecture about love and all its wonderful benefits. I liked my friends, but they were far more annoying now that they’d coupled up with their dream men.
The server, a bubbly teen with the nametag Olivia, took our orders: a taco salad for me, and a taco sampler platter for Jamie and Maverick. You could order other Tex-Mex entreeshere, but the name was Taco Loco for a reason. They did amazing gourmet tacos.
My bespoke suits were getting a little snug, though. I’d failed to exercise lately—unless you counted pacing the perimeter of a wedding ceremony or mediocre sex—so I stuck to the salad and skipped the carbs.
Other than those in my cosmo. My glass was nearly empty.
“Can you bring me another drink, please?” I asked Olivia.
“Sure.” She glanced at Maverick and Jamie. “Refills?”
“Uh, sure,” Mav said.
When she’d walked off, he raised his eyebrows at me. “Usually, you’re volunteering to run up to the bar so you can flirt with Paxton.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, about that…”
I glanced over on reflex. Paxton was watching me. He smiled and nodded. I turned away quickly.
“Uh-oh,” Maverick said. “You’ve got the fuck-and-run blues.”
