“Because of my ego.”
When she crossed her arms, he went on. “You’ve seen it. It’s absurd. Honestly, the size is almost a handicap.”
This was going to be good. Her brow pushed up, wanting more, but unwilling to open her mouth to ask for fear she’d break down laughing.
“If you crush this beast— Darcy, I’m not going to be able to drag it out of here.”
“That big?”
“Like you really need to ask.”
This guy was trouble. And exactly the kind of fun she deserved on her last night in Vegas. So long as it didn’t go any further than a little flirtatious back-and-forth.
“I’m telling you, it’ll be flailing around on the floor. Going boneless when I try to pick it up.”
“Wow, almost like another person.”
He offered a nod. “I call it Connor.”
“An ego named Connor.” Now she’d heard everything...and somehow it only made her want to hear more.
He let out a short laugh and rubbed a hand over his mouth as if trying to push the smile off his lips before going on. “And here’s the problem. That ego’s going to need some serious stroking to recover from your rejection.”
Her eyes started to narrow, but he waved her off.
“It’ll demand I hit on every female to cross my path. Forcing me to turn on the charm, we’re talking full blast—”
“Like a fire hose?” she supplied, knowing she shouldn’t have said it, but—well, she kind of couldn’t help it.
Jeff’s mouth was open, halfway to the next ridiculous part of his pitch when he froze. Cranked his eyes over to hers, the look in them one of amusement and warning.
“Exactly like a fire hose.”
But for the way this guy was working her, there was something about him that seemed safe. Whatever it was, it was tempting her to push what she knew better than to play with. “So after you spray all these women down with your big hose. What happens then?”
“Widespread devastation. Women weeping everywhere. Broken hearts littering the streets. They’re all going to fall in love with me, but all I’m really looking for is a date. Nothing serious. Just some fun.”
Ahh, the circle back to her and suddenly eye contact seemed more than she could handle. “And this is what happens every time a woman turns you down?”
Jeff shrugged, reaching for his Scotch. “Wouldn’t know. It hasn’t happened yet. Seriously, what kind of decent woman would want that kind of emotional carnage on her conscience?”
Darcy looked this guy up and down, taking in the details she’d glossed over before. The overly thick shock of dark hair with a mess of unruly cowlicks at total odds with the serious, straight cut of his classic suit.
But if the hair and suit were a working contradiction, they were nothing compared to his face. The heavy, squared-off jaw and single flashing dimple. The rough look of a nose that had seen a break or two and the ridiculously long fringe of dark lashes over eyes a soft, earthy hazel. On looks alone, this was a man who could keep a girl guessing. Add his confidence and charm to the mix and she imagined most women wouldn’t mind playing Jeff’s guessing game for as long as it was on offer.