A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,20

man.”

After the run, I continue my contemplation over a shower.

Though the shower isn’t the most conducive place for weighing pros and cons.

Showers, and the freedom to exercise one’s imagination, usually lead to the pro column.

Once dressed, I head to work, where, fling or no fling, I have to pay the piper.

The piper glances at me all night while she mixes drinks, giving me I know what you did this afternoon eyes as she zips past me. But it’s Saturday night, and there isn’t a moment to chat or for her to harass me until after we close.

As I tally the receipts, I lose track a few times of the final take.

Thanks a lot, Hurricane Fitz.

“Hey, earth to Dean. Are you going to help me mop?”

I look up from the laptop and meet Maeve’s gaze. She’s put up all the chairs already. “You’ve been somewhere else all night, and I think I know why.”

“Oh, do you now?”

Her smile’s mischievous. “Someone’s thinking about a certain customer.”

I laugh.

If she only knew.

Except . . . wait. She does know. I shoot her my best death glare. “You tried to trip me up.”

Maeve dares to look at me ever so innocently. “Me, who asked you to mop?”

“Yes. You. You engineered the whole thing at the expo today. You were talking to Emma last night.”

“Ohh. You know his sister’s name.”

“Yes, he mentioned her today—”

Maeve bursts out laughing. “That is soooo sweet that you know her name.”

“He was talking about her. It would be hard not to know her name.”

“And now you’re talking about her. Want to pick out monogrammed towels with him next?” She bats her lashes.

I shake my head adamantly. “Things that will never happen.”

“Fine. Maybe not towels. How about sharing shirts?”

I arch one brow at her. “You were once my friend, right? Once upon a time, like in the dark ages?”

“You pegged him as my type and tried to trip me up. That whole you’re so going down and your type bit. Serves you right that now you can’t get enough of him.”

“That is not even remotely the case.”

She points at me, glee written all over her features. “It is. So, pay up now. Did you shag him already?”

“No,” I say, shutting the laptop.

“You didn’t? I’m shocked. But you still owe me.”

I tap my chin. “Is there anything in the rules about what happens when your business partner and former best friend tries to make you lose? I mean, why else would he have shown up at some random bar expo?”

She flashes puppy-dog eyes at me, trying so damn hard to school her expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I don’t blink. “Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got?” I stare her down and imitate, “I have no idea what you’re talking about . . .”

“Dean, maybe you’ve been working too much. You’re starting to imagine things. Though if you’re admitting that something happened between you and that guy . . .” She points at the mop.

I shake my head. “I’m not admitting anything. Not until you admit that you and Emma set me up. If I grabbed your phone right now, I bet I’d see a text thread about where I was at the expo today.”

Maeve gives a satisfied Cheshire-cat grin. “If such a text thread did exist, it’d already have been deleted.”

“You do know that’s kind of playing dirty. Getting me like that.”

She shrugs. “It’s what you tried to do to me last night. I just happen to be better at the game.” She hands me the mop. “You might as well get to scrubbing. And while you do, you can tell me all about your romantic make-out session on the streets of London. I want to live vicariously through you. Now, tell me. Was it swoon-worthy? Did he melt you? Make your knees go weak?”

“My knees don’t go weak. And I don’t melt. That’s not a thing. Plus, it was just a kiss.”

“Aha! So you admit it. Start mopping.”

With a beleaguered sigh, I grab the mop, admitting she won this round. At least this is one of the easier chores on her list of consequences. And truthfully, I’d end up telling her everything anyway.

“Give me the details,” she says as she cleans the counter. “When are you seeing him again?”

I dip the mop in the bucket. “It isn’t like that. It was just a one-time thing,” I say, though as I try that on for size, the prospect sounds awful. A few hot kisses were not enough. I want the

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