Page 55 of Pick Six

I smile at him. “Your place is beautiful.”

“And she knows who I am.”

“Wasn’t that a requirement of attending tonight?” I match his tone.

“Fair, but I feel like I’m at a disadvantage, that I don’t know who you are.”

“Harper.”

“Harper. Ilikethat name.” His eyes flick over me with interest.

I’m flattered, and for a momentary second, I think of what the possibilities might be if I wasn’t faking things with Alex—the opportunity to flirt with someone who wasn’t required to flirt back. But I’m the loyal sort, even stupidly so, to my fake boyfriend who was currently falling prey to one of the most gorgeous women in the room. But I could still talk to him, right? That isn’t illegal.

“I like your bar. What made you decide to open one?” I try to redirect the conversation.

“Ah well, I’m getting up there in years, you know? I gotta start thinking about what’s after football. And I’ve got a daughter to think about too. Figure this would be the kind of thing she could inherit and make use of. Might let her work here a few nights once she’s old enough to bus tables in a couple years.”

“Hit them with the work ethic young. Sounds like my parents.” I smile.

“No kids of your own?”

“Nope. Too busy with the career.”

“I hear that. If I hadn’t had her young, who knows? What career is that?”

“Museum. I’m a curator.”

“Well, that’s fucking fancy. I like that.”

“When was the last time you were at a museum?” I smirk because this guy didn’t look like he’d ever set foot in one.

“Probably when I was a kid. But I’d be at them more often if I knew you were there.” His eyes drift down to my ring finger. “No husband?”

“Not anymore.”

“Huh.” He smiles. “So if I offer your next drink on the house, you think I might be able to get a number to keep this conversation going on a night I’m less busy? Maybe a private tour at the museum if I’m lucky?”

“No.” Comes a voice from behind me, an arm quickly encircling my waist and pulling me against him. His fingers are warm against my stomach and the way my body responds to the possessiveness of his tone is… new and a little bit concerning.

“Well, fuck.” Gabe frowns, looking at me for half a second and then grinning back at Alex. “Nate!” He yells to the bartender. “Get this man a scotch neat if you still want to have a boss to issue your paycheck next week.”

Nate laughs and pulls a glass out.

“Enjoy you two.” He looks at Alex and then his eyes flick down to me, “And next time maybe a warning about who I’m pissing off?”

“He’s not pissed.” I laugh and turn around to see Alex looking grumpy as fuck. My face falters. “What?”

“You over here flirting up a fucking storm with our kicker. That’s what.”

“We were just talking.”

“Must have been a riveting conversation that he wanted to continue it on a private tour.”

“Maybe it was.”

“You remember you’re with me, right?” he asks in a tone that riles me a little.

“That’s rich, considering you were just over there having your own little sidebar with whoever she was.”