“Is that why you’re here?” she mused.
Not exactly.
Last month, Finn’s involvement in his sister’s love life was limited to telling anyone who would listen—usually Jared—what he would do to the man who broke Lucy’s heart if he ever got the chance. But if Finn had set up rules for where Lucy took her dates—places they co-owned—then Lucy’s big brother wasn’t just standing on the sidelines casting out idle threats. He’d assumed a more active role.
“The details of my personal life aren’t my brother’s business,” she continued as she filled a tall glass with water from the tap.
“On second thought, I’ll sit here, sip my juice, and enjoy the show while he demands details. Probably more entertaining than watching Minny and his team execute another flawless service.” He took a long drink from his straw. And heard the telltale sign that he’d polished off the kid-size box. “But I might need a six pack of these things.”
“Fine. You win.” She walked around the edge of the island and headed for the stool beside his. “I met Hugh—my date—through an app. He seemed like a nice guy. But I knew it was time to run for it when he professed his love for my thigh gap.”
“What the—”
“It’s the space between—”
“Jesus, I know the term,” he cut in. He turned, angling his body to face hers. She’d set her water glass on the island but hadn’t claimed the stool. “What the hell was your date doing checking out your thighs?”
Maybe later he’d blame it on too much juice, but he couldn’t help it. The word “thighs” filled the kitchen, and he stole a glance at her legs. One look and he could answer his own damn question. Her date had likely seen her long, tanned limbs, and his imagination had kicked into gear. He’d probably pictur
ed running his hands over her smooth skin.
Fuck me.
He looked away as she explained about her date’s rules and his assumption about the women who made a living as a princess. His hand tightened around the empty box, and the paper crumbled. His interest in her limbs faded with each word out of her mouth, surpassed by his desire to kick Thigh Gap Dude’s ass.
“I don’t think I’ll tell Finn about your date checking out your legs,” he said. “Might be better to let him think the guy laughed at your job.”
“We never even talked about my career,” she said.
“A white lie. If you tell Finn what you told me, your brother might hunt the jerk down and do something that would get him arrested. We’re buried in work right now. I can’t have my business partner landing his ass in a jail cell.”
And hell will freeze over before I sit down and talk about your legs over a beer with my best friend.
She nodded, her gaze still focused on the counter. “Your motives are entirely selfish.”
“I’m looking out for my company. You’d do the same. You’re a good businesswoman—” He glanced down at her sandal-clad feet. “With or without the glass slippers.”
“Thank you.” She pulled out the stool and sat down. With her elbow perched on the granite counter, she rested her cheek against her palm. Her blue eyes studied him. And he was close enough to see the anger fade.
“Online dating is exhausting enough without adding my brother to the mix,” she added.
“Then stop,” he said firmly. “There’s no rush. Take some time.”
“And hope the right guy magically bumps into me? Even if that did happen, how would I know this mystery man is looking for a serious relationship?”
He had a sixth sense for when to back out of a debate. He’d lose this one. No question. He’d never tried online dating and didn’t know much about it. He should toss out a You’re right, Lucy, throw his juice box in the trash, and head for the exit.
“How do you know the guys you’re meeting online want more than a hook-up?” he challenged.
She lifted her head and let out a long sigh. “I spent a lot of time writing my profile. It states very clearly that I want someone looking for marriage and eventually kids.”
“And guys still respond?” he mused. “Because that sounds like a lot of weight for a first date.”
“Yes, they do. But I’m starting to wonder if they’ve taken the time to actually read my profile. I thought tonight’s disaster had done his homework. It turns out he was just trying to get that first date.” She shook her head. “Hugh was smart enough to say what he thought I wanted to hear over email, but he didn’t realize I would walk away when he sent his evil twin to the restaurant.”
Or Thigh-Gap Dude didn’t give a damn because you’re hot.
“How much homework do you do before meeting a guy for the first time?” he asked.