Page 85 of The Book Club Boyfriend
“Sure it’s not. And I’m upping the ante. Forget one date… I bet you can’t make her fall for you.”
I ignore him and head to the bar, needing something to hold in my hands before I do something stupid, like walk up to her and beg her to dance.
The bartender slides two flutes of champagne across the counter before I even order. Perfect.
When I turn back around, she’s closer, laughing at something Harper said, one hand resting lightly on her hip.
She looks radiant. Effortless. Dangerous.
I walk up, heart thudding like I’ve just finished a third-period shift, and offer her one of the flutes.
She turns at the last second, surprised to see me.
And I swear—her eyes widen just a fraction, as if she feels it too.
I hold out the glass. “For the most stunning woman in the room.”
She raises a brow, clearly unimpressed. “I think you meant to find the woman in the red dress. She’s been posing for photos by the donation wall all night.”
“Nope,” I say, stepping just close enough to smell her perfume—something soft and floral that does strange things to my brain. “Got the right one.”
A pause.
Then she takes the drink. “You clean up okay, Remington.”
I grin. “You make a guy forget how to walk.”
“Try not to trip and fall in love. That would be embarrassing.”
Too late.
I don’t say it. I just raise my glass to hers and try not to stare at her mouth when she takes a sip.
This night just got a lot more interesting.
Her lips twitch as she crosses her arms, glancing sideways at me. “Didn’t think black-tie galas were your scene.”
“They’re not.” I take a sip of my champagne. “But I heard a certain bestselling author might be here, and I couldn’t resist.”
She eyes her champagne, then me. “You showed up here just to annoy me?”
“Partly.” I clink my glass against hers. “Also, I look damn good in a tux, and it felt like a waste not to share that with the world.”
Her gaze drags slowly down my suit and back up, unimpressed. “You ironed. Congratulations.”
“You say that like it’s not one of my best qualities.”
“Your ego is one of your best qualities.”
I grin. “Weird way to say you missed me.”
She rolls her eyes but sips the champagne anyway. I take that as a win.
“Should we take a look at the auction items?” I ask, tipping my chin toward the tables in the back of the room.
“Sure.”
The long tables are filled with various baskets and some framed sports memorabilia, courtesy of the Stampede.
