Page 27 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

Dark brown hair cascades over her shoulders, waves catching the candlelight like temptation incarnate.

I shouldn’t notice her legs.

Or the curve of her waist. Or the way her deep brown eyes scan the room, calculating, assessing—just like mine.

No way.

No way am I letting this get under my skin.

Not when I know better. Not when I’ve seen what love does—how it strips you bare, leaves you vulnerable to betrayal, abandonment. My mother and Amanda proved that. My father reinforced it.

And James…

I shove the thought away, burying it deep as I adjust my cufflinks.

She finally spots me, her lips curving into something too perceptive, too damn confident.

She reaches the table, a slow smile curving her lips. "You look… polished. Almost human."

I smirk, circling the table to take out her chair. "You look… like you’re about to cause trouble."

She sits as I push her in. “You say that like it's a bad thing."

I take my own seat. “I say that like it's inevitable."

"And here I thought you'd at least try for a ‘hello.’"

“Hello, Ariana."

"Hello, Connor." She tilts her head. "There, was that so hard?"

"Excruciating."

She laughs, low and amused. "At least you're honest."

"Always. Now, should we get to business, or would you prefer to keep testing my patience?"

"Oh, I fully intend to test your patience," she says, picking up the menu. "But let’s order first. Wouldn't want you ‘charming me’ on an empty stomach."

I lean back, watching her with a smirk. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The waiter arrives, and we settle into the meal, the air between us crackling with something that feels an awful lot like the beginning of a very precarious game.

"You're staring," she says, perusing the wine list.

"Assessing," I correct, forcing my eyes away. The word 'observing' feels too personal suddenly. "Professional assessment."

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"Would you prefer 'strategic evaluation'?"

Now she does look up, something flittering in her cocoa-brown irises. ”Is that a CEO thing or just a you thing?"

"Both." I signal the sommelier, grateful for the interruption. "Though I notice you've developed some control issues of your own."

"Meaning?"

"You're still wearing those earrings.”

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