Sure enough, she felt his presence at her side a second later. He nudged her elbow with his rather large hand.His voice was deep, smooth, confident. “Hi, I'm Lance.”
Can't believe I have to do this right now,she thought to herself as she met the stranger's pine green eyes with a look of skepticism.This is the last thing I want right now.
“Hi, Lance,” she mumbled.
“What's your name?” he asked. He'd looked tall from across the bar, but up close, he was even taller. And handsomer. He had to stand at least 6'0 tall. He was blessed with broad shoulders and a wide, sturdy frame.
“Paige,” she muttered.
His smile was bright and his presence warm—all of which slightly annoyed Paige. Couldn't he feel the cold waves ofbrokennessemanating off of her? She almost felt sorry for him for even trying to talk to her … until she heard what came out of his mouth next, anyway.
“Paige,” Lance repeated. “That's funny. Pages have numbers, but I don't have yours.”
A hand darted to cover her mouth, and Paige stifled a mortified laugh. She glanced at Emily to make sure she'd just heard it, too—possibly the worst pickup line of all time.
“Wow,Lance,” Paige said at last. “That wasbad. Truly bad.”
He set his rather large hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Yeah, but it made you laugh, didn't it?”
Her back arched at his touch, whether she wanted it to or not. “If you're planning on using any more bad pickup lines on me, you better get them out of your system now.”
“Hm. Okay.” Apparently, Lance saw this as a challenge, because his eyes looked skyward for inspiration. “If your name is Paige, then I'm going to need a bookmark … that way I never lose you.”
Paige couldn't help it; she let out a loud laugh. She wondered if it was the first time she'd laughed in a month—it sure felt like it, anyway.
“Lance … that'sawful.”
She had to give it to him, though: his confident grin was endearing. He wasn't afraid of rejection in the slightest. The guy was just having fun. His attitude was infectious.
“As long as you're still smiling, I don't care,” he said. “You're perfect when you smile, you know that? But I bet you get that a lot.”
“'When' I smile?” she repeated, unsure if she'd been complimented or insulted.
“From across the bar, it didn't look like you were having such a great time.” Lance gave a cocky shrug. “So I came over to brighten your day.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Gee … thanks.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Before Paige could saythanks but no thanks, Emily piped up on her behalf. “Yes, you absolutely can buy her a drink!”
“… This is my friend, Emily, by the way,” Paige said while she shot side-eyed daggers at Emily.
Emily and Lance shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
“Iloveyour suit, by the way,” Emily said. She grabbed his sleeve. “God, it's so soft! What's this made out of?”
Lance flashed his piano-key-teeth. “Thanks. It's cashmere.”
“Cashmere! Wow!” Relishing the role of matchmaker, Emily elbowed Paige's side. “Feel his jacket, Paige.”
Hesitantly, Paige touched her hand to his arm. But the fine cashmere was so sleek and soft and smooth, she couldn't help but run her fingers up and down his arm. The hard, chiseled muscles that lurked underneath only complemented the luxurious fabric.
“Thatissoft,” Paige said quietly.
Having worked her magic, Emily slid off her stool and excused herself. Paige gave her one last look before she pranced off.
Nice try, Emily, but it's still not gonna happen.
