Page 5 of Three Bossy Boyfriends (Honeysuckle Harbor #3)

“You want to matchmake me with your sister?” I ask, like it isn’t already the most obvious fucking thing on the planet. “Why? Are you in a relationship?”

“No. In New York, I was too busy studying and getting stuck on trains to date. And everyone here is someone I went to high school with, and they all remember me as the creepy goth girl.”

“You did say something about black eyeliner and a nose ring.” In a beach town, that would definitely stand out. “I bet you were cute though.”

Finley rolls her eyes. “Look, here comes Fiona.”

A tall blonde with a perky smile comes over to our table wearing a pastry apron. “Hey, sis, who’s your friend?” Fiona puts her hand on the back of Finley’s chair and gives me a sweeping once-over.

She’s beautiful. There’s no question about it.

But at first glance she doesn’t have Finley’s snark or sass or brattiness .

“This is Evan, aka Pretty Boy. He’s a suit from the office.”

Fiona shoots her sister a look of reprimand. “Jesus, Finley.” She smiles at me brightly and puts her hand out. “I’m Fiona. It’s nice to meet you. I hope you’re at least billing this dinner given Finley’s attitude.”

Okay, so a little snark. More like entry-level snarkiness.

“It’s a pleasure,” I say, taking her hand to shake. “I hear rumors you make a mean eclair. I’m dying to try one.”

“Some rumors are true.” She drops my hand and looks at the martini at Finley’s lips. “Make sure you at least order some apps. And take a car service home since you’re drinking.”

“See?” Finley tells me. “Mother material.”

“I’m allowed to look after you,” Fiona protests.

“I lived in New York for ten years without incident. I can handle a one-martini-dinner at a restaurant where I know half the staff. Oh, and that my brother owns.”

“Your brother owns Raw?” I ask. Somehow I missed that.

“Yes, Ford,” Fiona says. “Our older brother. He’s not here tonight, but Harrison is.”

She says that as if I should know who Harrison is. I don’t ask. I just sip my bourbon.

“Evan wants to ask you out,” Finley says.

I choke for the second time. I shake my head and cough. “ Finley. Fuck.”

“That’s a very familiar tone to use when talking to my sister,” Fiona says sympathetically. “She likes to put her foot in her mouth.”

“Better than up your ass,” Finley says in a sing-song voice.

“Oh my God.” Fiona flips her sister’s hair off of her shoulder in a gesture of familiarity and amusement. “You’re impossible.” She turns to me. “So is this true or just another rumor?”

I clear my throat. “I actually asked Finley out, but she’s trying to convince me you’re a better fit for me than she is.”

“Ah. Considering we’ve never met, that does seem more likely. For the record, I would be flattered, but Finley’s sour expression lets me know she isn’t being sincere. She wants to say yes to you but doesn’t think she should, for whatever reason. She’s using me as a shield.”

“Bite me,” Finley says to her sister.

Fiona just laughs. “I’ll leave you two to your cocktails. I’ll have eclairs sent out. Can you make sure she gets home safe, Evan?”

“Of course.”

“Nice to meet you. See you later, Fin.”

Finley doesn’t say anything, just wrinkles her nose and drains her martini.

Once Fiona is gone, she mutters, “That was annoying.”

“She seems nice.”

“She seems annoying.”

“You texted her to come out here,” I point out.

“Thank you, Evan. I appreciate the ‘I-told-you-so.’”

An older woman is walking past our table, and she draws up short. “Finley Anderson! I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Hi, Eleanor,” Finley says, giving the woman a tight smile. “Yes, I’m working at my dad’s firm for a few months.”

“I heard you failed the bar exam,” Eleanor says, making a clucking sound. “Poor dear. Is this your boyfriend?” She eyes me with bold curiosity.

“Hi, I’m Evan Young.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Finley says, loudly enough to draw the eyes of diners at the table next to us.

“Then you should meet my nephew, Beauregard. He’d be perfect for you. Do you remember him from school?”

“Yes, I remember him. Thanks, but no thanks, Eleanor.”

“Well. That’s a shame.” Eleanor frowns at Finley, then smiles at me. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well.”

When she walks away, Finley reaches for my bourbon glass, lifts it to her lips, and drains it. “What’s in this fake dating for me?”

I blink. I didn’t think she was going to agree to my proposition. “I’ll help you study for the bar.”

“I need more than that.”

If I wasn’t so desperate to make partner and intrigued by Finley and, hell, let’s be honest, picturing how amazing she would be in bed, I might be more than a little offended by that. “It will keep the locals from trying to matchmake you.”

“True. Then again, half the locals think I can put curses on people and would be terrified to set me up with their precious men.”

It suddenly occurs to me what Finley wants. “I can help everyone in Honeysuckle Harbor see you for the successful, intelligent, grown-ass woman that you are.”

Her head tilts slightly. “Now, that is something I can get behind. You have a deal.”

She reaches across the table to shake my hand.

“Besides,” I tell her. “We’ll have a good time.”

The minute our fingers touch, we both feel it—an electric jolt of attraction.

Finley immediately drops my hand. “I really can put curses on people, you know.”

“That sounds like a story for another drink.” I raise my hand for the server, fighting the urge to smile.

Fake dating Finley is going to be fucking fun.