Garrett(4)

“Only if you lay off the cheesy lines,” she says.

“Okay…you apparently know who I am and what I do. So, tell me about yourself.”

“I’m an astrophysicist,” she says solemnly.

“You’re kidding?” I ask, astonished, because why isn’t she wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a pocket protector?

“Yeah…kidding. I’m a nuclear engineer,” she deadpans.

I cock an eyebrow at her and hold her stare.

Reaching her hand up, she fingers a delicate gold necklace with a peace symbol charm. “Well…actually, I’m a floral designer by trade. I work at a little shop called Fleurish in Chapel Hill.”

“Ahhh,” I say with a sage nod. “I took you for an artistic type.”

She arches a beautiful, golden brown eyebrow at me, which gives me a hint at the true color of her hair. “Artistic type? What gave that away?”

Shrugging, I tell her, “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the way your hair is colored…almost like a beautiful painting of a sunset. Or maybe it’s the bohemian vibe you give off with your long gypsy skirt and little gold toe ring I noticed.”

I nod down toward her foot, because, yeah, I saw that tiny piece of jewelry down there too.

Her head drops and she holds her foot out for inspection; it is encased in a pair of white leather sandals with peach-colored crystals dotted all over them. “You’re pretty observant,” she muses as she sets her foot back down.

“When something interests me,” I respond. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Her head snaps up to me and a small grin forms on her face. “Nope.”

“Husband?”

“Nope,” she says as she holds her left hand out and wags her fingers to show me no wedding ring.

“Lover?”

She smirks at me. “No.”

“Potential lover?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“No,” she says and chuckles.

“Damn,” I say miserably as I clutch at my heart. “So there’s no hope for me?”

“Not at the rate you’re going,” she quips, and it makes me give a hearty laugh in return. She’s fun to jest with.

But playtime’s over.

Leaning in toward her, I ask in a low, seductive voice that has garnered me dozens of dates before, “Is there any chance at all…no matter how miniscule, that I could get you to go out with me?”

She takes a small step back from me, which probably means the amount of charm I just laid on her was sorely lacking.

“Sorry,” she says with a sympathetic smile, “but I don’t think we’d have a lot in common, so I’d have to decline.”

“Now, that’s just throwing in the towel a little too soon,” I chastise her. “How do you know we wouldn’t have anything in common?”

I certainly know the mutual orgasms we’d have would satisfy us both tremendously.

Olivia gives a tiny laugh of amusement and lays her hand on my arm. She squeezes me gently…almost sympathetically. “No offense, Garrett…but you have sort of a reputation as a playboy. You’re dangerous.”

Ouch. That hurt.

Not my feelings, but my chances with her. I’m getting close to striking out completely, and that isn’t something that happens to me.

Ever.

I take a sip of beer and then lower my cup, giving her my most devilish, charming smile. “A playboy, huh? So what exactly have you heard about me? I need to be able to set the record straight with you.”

She circles one finger over the rim of her wineglass as she drops her eyes from mine. “Oh, you know. Just that you never go out with the same woman more than once. That you’re a player.”

I snort, not because that’s untrue.

It’s so true…almost. “I’ll have to take exception to that. I’ve gone out with a woman more than once.”

She cocks her eyebrow at me in skepticism. “Oh, yeah? Do tell.”

“Well…I went out with one woman at least three times that I recall,” I tell her with my lips curved upward in a smarmy grin. No need to tell her it took me three dates to get in that woman’s pants because the first two dates were cut short since she was a doctor and got called to the hospital.

“Oh, wow.” She gasps in false amazement with both eyebrows rising high. “Three whole times. That’s incredible.”

I give her a smug look. “See…I have layers that you can’t even dream of.”

Olivia gives me another jovial laugh, from deep within her belly, and I’m glad that at least I’m amusing her. I’m perilously close to bombing out, but at least I got a gorgeous smile on her face for the time being.