Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(4)

"Well…" Olivia licked her lips and glanced at all the drinks. "A Mountain Dew with a cherry in it sounds wonderful."

The man gave her a funny look. Then he turned to the bartender and grinned. "Give her a bourbon and coke." He tapped his drained glass against the countertop before adding, "And I’ll have another one of these."

The bartender nodded and Olivia’s prospective husband turned back to her.

He set his elbows on the countertop as if he were ready to chat. "So, what’s up?" he asked, as if she were some friend he’d had for years, and they were getting together for their weekly gossip session. It was strange how personable he acted.

Olivia folded her hands and set them lightly on the edge of the bar. She stared at them as she opened her mouth and tried to say, "Will you marry me?" but the words wouldn’t come. Finally, she bolstered herself and blurted out, "I have to get married."

He studied her for a moment and then dropped his eyes, only to lift them a moment later. "When’s it due?"

Olivia blinked a few times. "When is what due?"

"The baby."

Frowning, she shook her head. "Whose baby?"

Their drinks arrived. The guy paused to chug his shot. He set the glass down and sighed in satisfaction. Then he turned back to Olivia, picking up their conversation where they’d left off. "Your baby."

She floundered. "I don’t have a baby."

"You’re not pregnant?" he asked, looking utterly confused.

Olivia threw him a dirty look. "No!" She had to glance down at her skin-tight bustier to make sure no fat rolls bulged out. But her belly was as flat as ever.

The man also glanced at her bare stomach. He lifted his eyes. "Then why do you have to get married?"

Her shoulders slumped. "Oh," she said in relief. Thank God he wasn’t calling her big. She’d been about ready to give Mr. Green Eyes a black and blue one. Olivia wore a size four, and she worked hard for it. She wasn’t about to let anyone call her chunky. She smiled. "To escape my mother."

The guy shook a finger at her in a drunken manner. "Well, what do y’know. That was my second guess. Actually, I was going to say father. But a mother will do jus’ as good."

He picked up his drink and realized the glass was empty. Frowning at it, he promptly waved the bartender over for more.

Growing anxiously impatient, Olivia said, "Well?"

Green Eyes glanced curiously at her. "Well, what?"

She sighed. "Will you marry me or not?"

His back pulled straight as he sat up fully and his eyes opened wide. "You want me to marry you?"

Olivia nodded, then looked around the room one last time, checking for any better prospects.

"I’m not exactly—" he paused to hiccup—"marriage material. I mean, I’m drunk. And I-I’m not so sober. And I also—holy mother of God!"

Olivia jerked her head up at his outburst, but he wasn’t looking at her. Or rather, he wasn’t looking at her face. His eyes were popped even wider than before as he gaped at her exposed cleavage as if he were just now realizing what she wore. His stare slipped down her body. Olivia felt a spurt of heat at his entranced gaze.

"What in the hell are you wearing?" he asked, sounding utterly awed.

Olivia rolled her eyes. He had just noticed. "I’m an apprentice for Cat Woman."

He gawked for another few seconds and actually impressed her when he managed to lift his face to meet her gaze.

"I think I like it," he murmured but then his eyes instantly dropped again to scope out her cleavage, which seemed to be his favorite area.

"Enough to marry me?" Olivia asked and slid off her chair to lift her arms and turn in a slow circle, displaying the goods.

He continued to stare for a moment. He seemed to realize she was waiting for a response when she stopped with her hands on her hips and sent him a probing look. He shook his head to clear it. "Sorry," he said. "But I just had this really vivid picture of me running my tongue up the back seam of those fishnet hose."

Olivia lips widened. She leaned forward so he could look down her cleavage, which he did. "I’ll tell you what," she murmured huskily as she ran her long fingernail down his arm. "You can lick anything you want to if you marry me tonight."

He bobbed his head, transfixed. "All right."





Two



Olivia was stunned. It worked. Her skin tingled with sudden apprehension. Good God, it really worked. She’d asked a complete stranger to marry her, and the drunk had actually said yes.

What was she supposed to do now?

He started to slide off his stool until he noticed her untouched bourbon and coke. Pausing, he lifted his eyes. "You didn’t drink yours."

"I didn’t order that," she reminded him.

He stared at her as if she was insane then nudged her glass toward her. "But I bought it for you." He paused with an almost injured expression. "Besides, you shouldn’t let good liquor go to waste." He proceeded to blink his long lashes and stick out his bottom lip. It looked so much like something a five-year-old girl would do, she sputtered out a surprised laugh.

"Oh, for God’s sake." She snatched the drink from him and downed everything in one hearty swallow.