“Talk to me, bro.” Dean shook his head. “You’ve been snapping at us all day. I think Didi was one second away from sneaking a Midol into your lunch.”
Damn it. There was no use in denying it.
“Shotelle emailed me earlier saying he just remembered Lynn loves roses. When we know for a fact that she’s not a fan.” Parker wearily gestured to the bar. “I keep thinking about how she’s wasted on that asshole. Usually I love what we do, but the woman deserves a helluva lot better than a prick who doesn’t know fuck-all about her likes and dislikes.”
“Agreed. Phil’s a jerk, and an ass, and no woman in her right mind would agree to marry a guy who doesn’t give two shits about anyone but himself.” Dean shrugged. “But Lynn seems smart enough to make that discovery on her own. She’s not going to thank us for poking our noses into her affairs. Plus, remember what you said last night—this is our business. So unless we want to return the advance and risk Phil-the-fucker making waves, we do our job. Period. Trust in karma that his true colors shine through after we cash the check and before she says ‘I do’.”
“I still don’t like it,” Parker grumbled. “We’re aiding and abetting a criminal.”
Dean snickered. “Melodramatic much?”
“Come on, admit it. She deserves better. Someone like you, or me. Either one of us would be better for her than that egotistical bastard.”
“I know, bro, I know.” Dean unlocked their doors. “Hey, if I had my way? We’d be heading into that bar to turn Lynn’s night into a fantasy like she’s never experienced before, including the best damn sex ever. But, sad as the truth is, that’s not our agenda. So get your head in the game, and let’s go find out what turns the lady on.”
Parker wanted to growl in frustration, but he simply nodded and reached for the door handle.
“So what’s the plan?” Dean asked. “Do we make contact?”
He mulled it over. “Only if it comes off as natural. Otherwise we just observe. We know she eats meat now, but pay attention to what she drinks, any music she plays on the jukebox—the usual.”
“Roger that.”
A moment later they headed for the bar, the flashing red-and-green neon signs casting strange shadows over Dean’s dark hair. Music hit them before the front door was even open, a heart-pounding beat echoing off walls covered with all manner of ceramic frogs.
Dean peered closer with ghoulish fascination. “They’re all wearing teeny, tiny crowns.”
Parker was no longer checking the décor. He’d spotted Lynn, her face shining as she threw her head back and laughed. Irritation slammed like a fist into his solar plexus, but he pushed it aside. Dean was right. This was a job, nothing more.
But nobody said he couldn’t at least enjoy looking at his target.
She’d pulled her long hair into a loose braid, golden highlights dancing as she moved. Her pale blue tank top clung intimately, the upper curves of her smooth breasts perfectly visible above the scooped neckline. That left her shoulders bare, the twinkling lights suspended over her table shining down and giving her an angelic glow.
“She’s wearing blue again. I think it’s safe to say she likes the color,” Dean remarked in a dry voice.
Parker felt himself being tugged along the length of the bar toward an empty table. His buddy shoved him on a tall stool, settling across from him where they could easily observe Lynn.
“You’re so unobtrusive and discreet tonight,” Dean muttered barely loud enough to be heard above the music. “Just don’t drool on her, okay? That would be hard to explain to everyone.”
“Fuck off.”
Dean pulled off his coat and tossed it on the seat beside him. “Wait until we get a drink in hand. Then you can introduce me to the friend.”
“The friend?” he said blankly.
“Yeah, you know, the golden goddess of love sitting next to Lynn. The one you failed to tell me about earlier, and who, might I point out, is not our mark, and therefore totally on the table for an evening of being swept off her feet and pleasured until she can’t resist my charms.”
“Hound dog.”
“Arwhoooooo.” Damned if Dean didn’t actually throw back his head and howl. Loudly.
Across the bar, Lynn and Suz turned toward the sound. Lynn’s eyes widened as recognition kicked in. And somehow the entire evening got a little bit brighter.
Chapter Four
“It’s fate,” Suz hissed. “F-A-T-E. Fate.”
Normally Lynn’s practical nature would rear its head and argue the statement, but at the moment, she was at a total loss for words. The sex god from yoga was here. Sitting twenty feet away from them.
What were the odds? The very day she decided to end it with Phil, the universe rewarded her with the sexiest man she’d ever met?
Maybe she needed to reevaluate her stance on F-A-T-E.
“You need to buy him a drink,” Suz announced. “Seriously. Flag down our waitress. Pronto.”