Page 35 of Sweet Temptation
“Fine,” she pouts and hands me my purse. “But he better at least be a good kisser.”
I seriously hope so.
Ryker whistles when I walk out onto the deck, where he and the guys are sitting around the lit fireplace with beers in hand and football on the television.“Don’t you have your own house to stay at?”
“And miss your brothers scaring this guy shitless? I’ll pass.”
Linc and Lochlan laugh and fight to get past me as the doorbell rings. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about it.”
They manage to scramble around me like they always did when we were kids, and my eyes find Lucky’s as I’m sure my brothers answer the door.
He doesn’t say a word.
He doesn’t have to.
The disappointment rolls off him in waves.
I wish the reason why was just as clear.
“Better go before the twins gut your date for fun,” he warns, but his tone falls flat, and I walk away without answering before I say to hell with it and cancel the whole thing.
He may want to date everyone in Kroydon Hills who’s not me, but two can play that game.
And as I walk to the front of the house to save my date from my brothers, I can’t help but wonder when I started to decidewho I did or didn’t date based on Lucky... I haven’t been home that long, and he’s already driving me crazy.
Some things never change.
“So, Lexie, tell me about yourself.” Brice sips a glass of red wine as he sits across from me in one of the most exclusive restaurants at the Jersey shore. Today’s polo is peach, and his collar is popped.Who pops their collar?He’s been the perfect gentleman though. Held every door and my chair. Let me order first. Shown interest. But where you’d expect a spark is a nagging thought, and it doesn’t have a thing to do with Brice.
“Hmm... well, I just got back from spending a year in Paris, studying at Le Cordon Bleu.” I watch as he refills his wine glass, then stares at my untouched one. “I just got home a few weeks ago and start my new job?—.”
“I hadn’t realized your brothers were going to be there tonight.”
Great. I guess we’re going there. “Sorry about them. My brothers are a little...overprotective.”
“A little,” he sighs. “You could say that, I guess.”
I wait for him to finish his thought, but that seems to be it.
Ok-ay . . .
“So what’s it like?” he asks and drags calamari through the red sauce, and I watch in horror as the sauce drips down onto the white tablecloth and wait for it to hit his peach polo before he pops it in his mouth, then chews it with his mouth open. “If Linc Sinclair is your brother, that makes the Kings coach your uncle. Do you go to all the games?”
Calamari crumbs fall out of his mouth when he speaks, and it’s officially the moment I check out of the date.
He talks with food in his mouth, chews with his mouth open, and has now officially asked me more questions about football than he has about me. I’m out.
Why do men suck?
The next three hours are agony.
Yup. Three. Because Brice orders a dessert that takes forty-five minutes to prepare and then proceeds to send it back because he swears there’s a hair in it.
He tried to show me, but I couldn’t see it.
I sit, cringing, as he argues with the manager, insisting he comp our check, and I want to crawl under the table and hide. I consider just handing the man my credit card and texting the girls to come get me, but I doubt any of them are sober at this point. Instead, I sit quietly, stewing, because I could have spent the night at the house with Lochlan, and instead, like an asshole, I came here.
By the time Brice stops the car in front of the house, I practically run for the door.
