Page 15 of Hard to Lose

And I know without a doubt I’ll be asking her out before the night is over.

I hand over the drink order to Aubrey, my waitress, and then walk back toward where Chase is sitting, laughing at something Nixon’s said.

“You’re back,” she says. “Nix was just telling me here—”

“Let’s hope Nix wasn’t telling you anything about me because he has a hell of a lot of dirt he can dish.”

“Nothing bad at all. He’s a good wingman.” She winks at Nix and now, of course, I want to know what they were saying.

“I figured out why you’re here and who you are,” I say to get her attention back to where I want it—on me.

“I told you my name so you know who I am,” she says and laughs. “But please, I’m curious.”

“Chase Kincade is an alias. You’re really a huge pop star who needs a break from the crazy crowds and stalkerish press, so you’ve decided to come to Destiny Falls during festival season for a little reprieve.”

“Festival season?” she asks.

“There’s at least one every weekend this time of year. There’s the Strawberry Festival, the Wine Festival, the Destiny Falls Town Fair. Then there’s the Beer Festival, Summer Fest . . . I could go on and on.”

“Good to know I stopped in a town where I can get lost in the crowd.”

“You have good instincts.”

“Apparently,” she murmurs moments before her lips wrap around the tiny straw in her drink and steal my attention again.

“So, Gunner, if I’m a ridiculously famous pop star, what’s my hit song?”

And that’s a flirt, ladies and gentlemen. A definite flirt. Teeth biting on her straw. Eyes looking up at me beneath fluttered lashes. A soft smile and a continuation of a conversation that she could have let die.

That was definitely a flirt.

I assume my position opposite her, a playful smile on my lips and my hands braced on the counter between us. “You have many popular songs. Gunning for You. Heartbreak Warfare. Battle for Love. But the big one—the one that put you over the top of all the other pop sensations was I Did A Vet and I Liked It,” I say, making a play on a Katy Perry song.

Chase bursts out laughing and even snorts in the process, which is the cutest damn thing. The best part, she isn’t even fazed by it when most women would die of embarrassment.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Gunner. That was a good one. Creative. Witty. I love a man who can think on his feet . . . but no dice.”

“No dice?”

“Nope.”

I begin to pour a draft beer for another order Aubrey places—the bar is picking up—and slide a glance over to Chase again. She’s sitting there comfortable as can be in a bar where a lot of men are staring at her.

I like that about her.

Hell, I like a lot about her.

“So, Chase,” I say when I head back her way, “if you’re not in love with a tiger tamer, not a ridiculously famous pop star trying to escape the limelight, why are you here?”

“It’s a bar and I wanted a drink.” She’s coy as she plays with that straw of hers. “That’s it.”

“I was referring to Destiny Falls.”

“I’m doing research,” she says.

“For?”

It’s the first time I’ve seen her hesitate to respond. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.