Good To Be Bad (Good Love #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,8

you. I like perks.”

“Good, because the perks are just getting started,” he says with a wink that would seem cheesy from any other guy.

But this man can pull off a wink, wear the hell out of a suit, and master a Rubik’s Cube. Plus, he knows all the high-scoring Scrabble words by heart. Maybe I am going to ride a unicorn tonight. A hot, bearded unicorn.

As I watch him walk to the bar, I decide that, with a backside like that, he could probably pull off just about anything. And of course, to me, his nerdy side is nearly as attractive as his drop-dead sexy exterior and swoon-worthy accent.

Nearly.

West pays the check, returns my un-swiped credit card, and pulls my chair out in a display of manners that’s also sexy as hell. If he offers his arm and insists I walk on the side of the street farthest from the curb as we transition to the bar, I might faint.

Or spontaneously orgasm.

Preferably the latter.

Wait. Nope. I don’t want to trip the light fantastic on a street. I’ll faint, have him catch me, and when I come to in the middle of his bed, he’ll deliver multiples.

He is good at math after all.

He pushes my chair in and nods toward the stage. “I need to say goodbye to my friends before we leave. Want to come?”

I blink and suck in a breath. “You have friends here? God, I’m so sorry. They must think I’m awful, monopolizing you for the entire night.”

He smiles as he takes my hand, sending another sizzle up my arm. “Not at all. They’re newlyweds. Repulsively in love. Barely notice if there’s anyone else in the room. You know the type.”

I laugh. “I do, actually. But I’ll wait by the door if that’s okay. I need to hit the ladies before we leave.”

“All right,” he says, releasing my hand with a squeeze. “See you in a bit, then, Gigi.”

“In a bit, West,” I echo and head to the line for the restroom, even though I don’t really need to go.

Meeting his friends might make this feel like more than an easy, breezy thing, and I don’t want that. I don’t want to feel stressed or nervous or pressured to score another date. I’ve had enough of that. I simply want to be in the moment and enjoy tonight.

And if it leads to something more than a night…well, that would be nice, I guess. But if it doesn’t, I’m okay with that too, as long as I get to play naked Twister with West while I have the chance.

Or naked dominoes. Or naked poker.

As long as we’re naked, I’m guessing any game we play will be ten times as fun.

4

West

In the main gaming room, I peer over Graham’s shoulder as he rolls the die onto the Clue board—Cluedo in the UK—at the high table.

“I vote for Miss Scarlett. It’s always Miss Scarlett,” I whisper unhelpfully. “With the candlestick.”

Graham sears me with a look.

His wife tsks. “West, don’t give it away. Graham is just learning how to play Clue.”

I jerk my head back. “You don’t know how to play Clue?”

“I know how. I’m just not obsessed with board games like some people,” my American friend says, pretending to search for someone in the crowd.

“No idea who you might mean.”

“Also, I prefer strip Clue,” he mutters as he moves his game piece to the library.

“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t be any better at that,” CJ says sympathetically then adopts a cheery grin. “Which means we should go home and play right now.”

Graham shifts to her side of the standing table to loop an arm around her waist. “And it’ll be my wife in the kitchen with my candlestick.”

She swats his shoulder as I roll my eyes. “Like I told my new friend—revoltingly in love, you two.” That gets CJ’s attention. “Is the new friend of the female variety?”

“Yes. A lovely, brilliant one. We’re off to grab a nightcap.”

Graham points to the door. “Why the hell are you talking to us, then? Get out of here.”

“Just letting you know I’m taking off.”

CJ shoos me with both hands. “And now you may go. Be on your way.”

“So much for manners,” I say.

CJ scoffs. “No need for niceties when there’s love in the air.”

“Love?” I voice the four-letter word like it tops the lot of them. Because it does, along with tuna and iron. If I never eat sushi or flatten my own shirt collar again, I’ll consider myself a lucky man. “No, none of that