“Why can’t you just be on my side? This is Dylan Stone, we’re talking about. He’s the playboy king of the world. You know all about him. I’ve talked about him for months. His sexcapades, his record—”
“Yeah, but then I saw him with my own eyes at my birthday party,” Stella interjected. “I saw the way he was looking at you. Sweet, not cocky. And definitely not assuming. He was a gentleman to a fault. I saw how he went out of his way to be nice to all your friends.” She paused guiltily. “Even when they were drunk and falling all over him...”
Lacy bowed her head with a snort of laughter.
“You asked me to give him away as a present. Naked.”
Stella flushed, then brushed it off all in the same instant. “My point exactly. Even when the guy had every reason to run, he stuck around. For you.” She pulled herself off of the weight bench, tossing her drink in the trash. “Didn’t you tell me that he had standing appointments with different women around town? Couldn’t it be possible that he simply forgot to cancel? Especially given the fact that he let you walk right into his bedroom—like he didn’t think she’d be there?”
Lacy looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I guess...”
“And didn’t you tell me that the first time you met him—you know, when you brought a lunatic into his house to kick his ass—he was super cool about it? Not only did he not press charges, but he actually went down to the station just to bail the guy out of jail?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So that’s Dylan Stone,” Stella concluded. “That’s what I’ve seen with my own eyes, and that’s what I believe. The guy’s crazy about you, Lacy. I’m sure he’s trying to break up with all those other girls. You had a profound effect on him. I can tell by the way he looks at you. Give him another chance.”
Lacy turned her back to the dummy and stared out the window—pushing her damp hair away from her eyes. She wished she simply didn’t care. It would be so much easier that way. She wished she could forget all about Dylan Stone. That charming smile. Those magical eyes.
She tried to change the subject. “I seen some guy in the shadows watching me. And I swear I saw a flash too.”
“Like he was taking a picture?”
“Yes. He was watching me, but I couldn’t see his face.”
“I’ll check it out for you before we leave.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Her mind returned to Dylan. She wished she wasn’t wondering what he was doing right then. If he was staring out a window like she was. If he was thinking about her, like she was thinking about him.
But she couldn’t forget him. And she couldn’t trust him either.
“What would it take?” Stella prompted softly, watching her friend with a patient kind of concern. “What would it take for you to forgive him?”
Those wistful feelings vanished on the spot, as Lacy picked up her gloves and turned back to the mannequin. “It would take a fucking miracle...”
Chapter 4
Sometimes, the universe has a funny way of working things out. When Lacy got up the next morning and headed to the café for her morning latte, she had no idea that her entire life was about to change. That the cosmos had heard her request for a miracle, and had taken it to heart.
There wasn’t a single thing out of the ordinary. Not a single thing to cue h
er in that something was coming. The birds were chirping. The café was bustling. And no one at all noticed her as she took her place in the back of the line. The hands on the clock moved slowly, as she moved up, person by person. By the time she got to the counter and ordered her drink, she was already lost in thought—contemplating the ins and outs of her day.
First, she had to close out the Dylan Stone file, once and for all. It was a miracle that he hadn’t decided to press charges against her client, and she certainly wasn’t going to tempt fate by investigating him again. (She certainly wasn’t going to tempt fate by seeing him again either. There was only so long the two of them could be alone, before somebody’s clothes came off.) Quin would be crushed not to see fresh pictures of him, but there was nothing left to be done. Case closed. After that, she had to set up a sting operation for the Mulligan case. The poor woman who’d contacted her was convinced her husband was having an affair, and Lacy had vowed to find out for sure.
“Your latte, miss.”
Lacy reached across the counter and took it with a distracted smile—almost running into the man standing behind her at the same time. “Oh—sorry about that!”
The man smiled kindly, reaching out to steady her shoulders. “It’s no problem.” His eyes flickered down to the coffee in her hands. “Double shot of espresso, huh? Must be a tough day.”
She laughed briefly and flashed him a parting smile. “You have no idea...”
The crowd parted before her as she headed back outside, pushing open the door and stepping out into the bright sunlight.
Now why can’t I meet a guy like that? Simple. Sweet. Polite. Probably hasn’t slept with at least half of the city. Why can’t I fall in love with someone like ‘coffee shop guy?’