She nodded. “It’s great. Allows me to be creative but also to use my practical skills. I’m really good with computers. What about you guys?”
“We own a dating service,” Parker answered, ignoring the startled look he got from Dean.
But he figured there was no harm in telling her the truth, and now that she and Shotelle were kaput, any conflict of interest had vanished. Still, omitting the fact that her boyfriend had hired them to plan a date for her brought a pang of guilt to Parker’s gut, but he couldn’t bring himself to reveal the whole truth. He got the feeling it would send Lynn straight out the door, and he wasn’t ready to part ways with her yet.
“You’re joking,” she said, glancing from one man to the other.
Dean chuckled. “No joke. We own and operate a company called DreamMakers.”
She looked utterly fascinated. “You’re matchmakers?”
“No. No matchmaking. More like event planning,” Parker explained. “We plan extravagant dates and events for helpless boyfriends or husbands who don’t have the imagination to do it themselves.”
“Wow. I am honestly surprised.” She shook her head in amazement. “How on earth did you two get into something like that?”
“There’re three of us, actually. Me, Dean, and our buddy Jack. We all served in the army together.”
She seemed to be fighting a laugh. “So three soldiers got together and decided to organize romantic dates for a living?”
Parker grinned. “We saw there was a market for it, and decided to take advantage.”
“You guys must be huge romantics,” she mused. “Really into flowers and love letters and all that mushy stuff, huh?”
“Definitely.” He and Dean exchanged glances then snickered.
Lynn looked puzzled.
He let her in on the joke. “We get razzed about this all the time. We know our stuff, or research if we have to,” Parker admitted, “but don’t go around telling people we’re some kind of softies.” He gave her a wink. “We’re manly men, Lynn.”
“Hey, if people think you’re softies, that’s only good for business,” she protested. “Right?”
“Good point. Okay, fine. You can tell potential clients we’re into all the romance stuff. But potential lovers? Well, they need to know we’re half and half—fifty percent romantic, fifty percent tough guy.”
“Yep,” Dean agreed. “We’re the guys who’ll write you a love letter, all right—then we’ll fuck you senseless while you read it.”
“Ah, I see.” Lynn’s lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The waitress returned to their table with three shot glasses and a plate with cut limes and salt. Lynn caught her by the arm before she could walk away. “Can you bring another round right away?”
“Another?” Parker asked.
Her smile that simply screamed mischief returned, brighter than ever. “You’re right. We should get two more to save on the wait time.”
Dean slid from his stool to the one Suz had abandoned, putting him close enough to brush shoulders with Lynn. “Fine by me.”
Crap. So much for Dean acting responsibly tonight. “You guys go ahead,” Parker offered. “I’ll have this one, then switch to soda. Someone’s got to be the DD.”
The waitress flashed a smile. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
What the heck had gotten into her? Lynn wondered.
Not as much as you’d like, the little voice inside her head taunted while unhelpfully flashing images of cocks doing all manner of explicit inside work.
Oh man, oh man, oh man. The fact she was picturing cocks—i.e., more than the single sword she’d ever dealt with in the past—only made her body flame hotter.
She reached for a shot glass in the hopes the liquid would cool her down a fraction.
“Not like that.” Dean sounded so scandalized Lynn jerked her fingers away and faced him. He leaned in closer, turning his head at the last second. His cheek brushed hers. “Cheaper tequila goes down smoother if you drink it properly.”
The fine layer of scruff on his cheek scratched lightly, and she shivered.
“He’s right.” Parker now, on her left. When had he moved closer, his stool near enough that her thigh and his were in contact?
Sexy-and-I-know-it men surrounded her, which made the truth all the more apparent. Going home alone tonight and masturbating held little appeal. She’d been flying solo for long enough, and since she had officially called it off with Phil, there was no reason to not fully enjoy the evening.
Double swords for the win.
Maybe she had a little liquid courage in her veins, but pushing her forward even more was the pride Suz had expressed, and her BFF’s example of grabbing life with both hands.
“So, what’s the right way? You going to teach me?” Good Lord, was that husky, sex-soaked voice hers? “And are you both going to teach me, or does one of you like to watch?”
“Hot damn, babe. That was downright nasty.” Dean slipped his fingers through hers, lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.