Page 60 of Best Kept Vows

“It’s nothing short of art,” Lev told me.

“Art?”

“The burger arrives steaming,” he said dramatically. “It’s visually…arresting! You have a juicy patty made from grass-fed beef from a local Georgia farm, its grill marks hinting at perfection.”

Laughter bubbled out of me. “Perfect grill marks?”

Lev looked at me with an intensity that was disconcerting. “And she looks fuckin’ stunning when she laughs.”

I flushedagain.

“Oh, please. I’m way older than you, you know that, right?”

“I’m thirty-four, darlin’; you can’t be more than thirty-five or thirty-six, so don’t make it such a big deal.”

There isn’t a woman alive who isn’t flattered when a man—any man, and not only ones who looked like Lev—tells her she looks younger than she is.

“I’m forty-four. I have a son who is twenty-two and a daughter who’s eighteen.”

“Doesn’t change how you look, darlin’, or how I feel about how you look.”

He didn’t seem insincere or cheesy when he said that—just matter-of-fact. I’d have to be dead to not be attracted to a man like Lev, who was hitting on me. I was married, yes. But I was human.

“I’m also married,” I breathed.

Lev grinned mischievously. “I’m not.”

I let out a breathy laugh, but I was saved from further flirting when the server arrived with our burgers, which did, indeed, look like works of art.

It was adorned with crisply fried bacon strips arranged like edible sculptures, a shiny, tangy tomato jam spread generously over the top, and a cascade of freshly torn arugula leaves that promised a peppery crunch.

The aroma of truffle fries drizzled with rich, aromatic oil and sprinkled with hints of rosemary made my stomach churn with anticipation and my mouth water with delight.

“I told you,” Lev said smugly.

“The proof, as they say, is in the pudding.”

“Well, Audrey, take a bite and tell me if you don’t see stars.”

I didn’t seestars,but it was an incredible burger—one of the best I’d ever had. I’d just finished my food and refused to eat another fry, no matter how much Lev coaxed me, when a man stopped by our table.

“Your sister know you’re flirting with her intern?” the man asked.

I raised both eyebrows.

“Lia, this is Dom Calder. Dom, this is Lia,my neighbor.”

Dom grinned at me and perched his ass on a stool on my other side. I was now sitting between two deliciously attractive men. I was sure I was in an episode ofDesperate HousewivestitledCougarland.

Dom was of mixed race; I suspected he had African American and Native American heritage. Unlike Lev, who was lean, Dom was muscular—but they both looked like men who worked out.

“How do you know I’m Luna’s intern?” I asked.

“He’s stalking my sister, that’s how,” Lev stated dryly.

“Hey, Walt, I’ll have what she’s havin’.” Dom winked at me. Now, I had two good-looking menflirtingwith me. A girl could get used to this.

And then it clicked. “Oh, you’re…the Dom I’ve heard about.”

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