by Flynn, Avery
“He’s bald now.” Roxy mimicked Gemma’s move. “And people don’t think God has a sense of humor.”
To an outsider, it probably looked ridiculous, these two grown women sitting there like that. If it did, neither of them would care. That wasn’t how things worked for them. They’d always had each other’s backs.
Zara blinked away tears. “You’re both the worst, and I love you.”
“Right back at you,” Gemma said. “Now, skedaddle.”
Like a brave but tragic movie heroine about to get her head whacked off by a guillotine, Zara lifted her chin, stood up, and braced her shoulders before turning and facing her next good time. Gemma and Roxy didn’t need to point out which man was her date because just by her looking at him, her ovaries had an orgasm that nearly knocked her back into the chair.
He definitely fell into the broad-shouldered, muscular, gigantic category, had an ass that you could play ping-pong on, and was saved from being too damn perfect by a nose that looked like it had decided to go in one direction and then had changed its mind at the last minute.
“That one comes from a good gene pool.” Roxy made a tsk, tsk sound. “I just might want to have him check me for cobwebs.”
“Are you looking at him? He’s…” Zara flailed her hands around in the air. “… too much.”
“Girl,” Gemma said, leaning in close and lowering her voice. “You just gotta climb him like a tree.”
Zara swiped her phone from the table and shoved it into her purse. “That’s it, we’re getting out of here.”
“Are you serious?” Gemma asked, punctuating her question with a gasp.
She was about to say hell yes when Roxy’s could-be-heard-across-a-stampede voice stopped her.
“Hey, Kelly,” her friend hollered out to the hostess and pointed at Zara. “Here’s his date.”
A flash of embarrassed heat blasted up from her toes, strong enough she was surprised flames didn’t engulf every individual freckle on her face (and there were enough of them that if someone squinted, she’d look like she actually had a tan for the first time in her life). And just when it seemed like it couldn’t get any worse, her date looked across the bistro, his gaze going lower and lower until it finally dropped enough to be level with her face. His smile faltered and then flattened before he seemed to recover with an upward curl of his lips that looked as practiced as it was insincere.
Of course, that’s when her former best friends scattered, leaving her alone at the table with that hottie walking straight toward her.
Where were the planet-killing asteroids when you needed them?
…
About the Author
Avery Flynn has three slightly wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband, and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. Find out more about Avery on her website, follow her on Twitter, like her on her Facebook page, or friend her on her Facebook profile. Join her street team, The Flynnbots, on Facebook. Also, if you figure out how to send Oreos through the internet, she’ll be your best friend for life.
Don’t miss the Hartigans series…
Butterface
Muffin Top
Also by Avery Flynn…
The Negotiator
The Charmer
The Schemer
Killer Temptation
Killer Charm
Killer Attraction
Killer Seduction
Betting on the Billionaire
Enemies on Tap
Dodging Temptation
His Undercover Princess
Her Enemy Protector
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