There was that guy you met down by the lake.”
“Joey Stewart,” she said, remembering the hot football player who had been passing through town. She hadn’t slept with him, though he’d wanted her to. But she wasn’t into one-night stands, and she definitely didn’t want to be a notch in his belt.
“And the asshole you met at the club in Harmony Pointe,” he reminded her.
“Who?”
“The blond guy who looked at his phone the whole date.”
“Oh my gosh, I forgot about him.” She met Ben’s stare and said, “How did you remember?”
He shifted in his seat with a pinched expression and looked at her list. “Getting back to the last two women, there was a yoga instructor. She lives on the outskirts of town.”
“Name?” Aurelia asked, still wondering how he’d remembered her forgettable date.
He shrugged. “Joanie? Jeannie? I don’t know. It started with a J. She was blond.” He leaned back and said, “And really flexible.”
She glared at him and wrote Pretzel Girl J. “Who’s the last one? And make it fast because I’m about to puke thinking about you and all these women.”
“I was in LA for business. It was the night you went out with that designer you met online.”
“Ollie? Oh, I liked him.”
“Fucking Ollie. What kind of name is that?”
“He’s from the UK, and he is hot and very talented.” She was talking about his design skills, but Ben was grinding his teeth, and though she knew he wasn’t jealous—he probably felt protective of her, like a brother would of a sister—she couldn’t resist goading him. “And that accent.” She sighed dreamily, just to drive his discomfort home.
His eyes narrowed. “Anyway, she was blond with a big rack,” he said angrily.
“Of course she was.” No wonder he had no interest in her. None of the women he’d slept with were brunette.
“She worked at the hotel I was staying in.” Ben crossed his arms.
“Name?”
“Caroline something. I think.”
“You think?” She wrote Blond, Caroline, Hotel Hookup on the paper and set down the pen.
“We were commiserating. You know what they say: the best way to get over one woman is to get into another.”
“That’s not exactly the saying, and it implies you were once hung up on someone. I don’t remember that. Who was she?”
He stared blankly at her, his eyes slightly narrowed.
“God, Ben. Really? Then you weren’t that hung up on whoever she was.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Whatever. Are you sure that’s it?”
“Pretty sure.”
She tapped the pen on the table, thinking about Bridgette’s husband, Bodhi’s, beautiful blond friend Shira, who had flirted with Ben at the wedding—and every chance she got when she visited from the city. Aurelia didn’t blame her, because if Ben wasn’t her best guy friend and he looked at her like he looked at other hot women, she’d try to pick him up, too. Jealousy gnawed at her, because she could see Ben being attracted to more than just Shira’s looks. She was a brilliant accountant, a badass martial artist, and the president of the Hearts for Heroes foundation, which Bodhi had founded.
“Shira?” slipped out, and she winced.
He looked confused. “What about her? Did she look like she’d just had a baby when she was at the wedding?”
She shook her head, and her stomach sank. He didn’t say he hadn’t slept with her.
“Besides, I didn’t have sex with Shira,” he snapped.
Relief and embarrassment swept through her.
His troubled eyes held hers as he asked, “Anyone else you want to know about?”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m not the one with supersonic sperm.” She glared at him and said, “Is that it? Just those four?”
He nodded, his jaw tight.
“Great. Do you happen to have Pretzel Girl’s or Malibu Barbie’s numbers?”
“Malibu Barbie?”
“Sorry, Hotel Hookup.” She glanced at the sleeping baby and felt a little guilty for making fun.
He sighed heavily and said, “No. They were one-time things.”
“Oh.” She felt like she’d swallowed a boulder. “Like Ollie and Joey,” she lied, but at least it made her feel a little less pathetic.
“Can you please not talk about them right now? I’m under enough stress.”
“How do my dates cause you stress?”
“Someone’s got to worry about you when you’re out with strange guys.”
“Whatever. They weren’t strange. Why don’t I text Remi now and get that girl’s last name?”
“Wait. Before we start nosing around, I have to call my attorney. I’m a wealthy guy, and people know it. I have to protect myself. Give me five minutes.” He pushed to his feet and strode into the living room, holding