How to Resist Prince Charming(13)

“You say that now,” Greg said in a cajoling voice, “but in another two months you’re going to start missing us over here.”

Braxton didn’t need another two months. He already missed them.

“And do you know what I’m going to say when you come crawling back to me?”

“Welcome back. It’s about time,” Braxton guessed.

Greg laughed. “Oh, hell. You know me too well.”

No, they’d merely repeated this same conversation one too many times.

“Anyway,” Greg went on. “That’s not why I called.”

“And here I thought that was the only reason you ever cared to talk to me anymore.”

He could almost see his friend roll his eyes. “Ha, ha. But seriously, I need a favor.”

“Yeah, I know. You need me to return to ProTech.”

“Besides that.”

Smile slipping, Braxton grew alert to the distressed sound in Greg’s voice. “Sure thing, pal. Name it.”

“Well, you see, there’s this girl,” Greg started.

Braxton paused. Greg needed help with a girl? That didn’t sound right. Greg never needed help with women. He was always bragging about his latest score. “Yeah?” he asked slowly.

“Okay, here’s the deal. We met. We clicked. And I asked her out. But—and this is the kicker—she never goes out with a guy for the first time without doubling with her best friend. It’s some kind of personal security thing they made up.” Seeing exactly where this was headed, Braxton instantly blurted out, “No.”

“Hey. You haven’t even heard my question yet.”

Yeah, well Braxton didn’t need to hear the question. “I don’t do blind dates,” he stated firmly. “Especially with guard dogs.”

“But—”

“No,” Braxton repeated.

“Brax, my man,” Greg coaxed. “Trust me on this. I’ve seen the girl you would be with. She’s not the usual guard dog. Her name’s Erica and she’s a complete babe. A real beauty.”

Braxton highly doubted it. Besides, if Erica was so gorgeous, then Greg would be after her instead of her friend.

“Mmm hmmm,” he murmured. “Then why’s she still available?”

There was a pause and Greg said, “Hell, I don’t know. Why is any hottie ever available?”

Lenna Davenport’s face appeared in his head, and he conceded his friend had a point. It didn’t seem possible a girl like Lenna didn’t have guys following her home from the supermarket.

A horrifying thought struck him. Oh, shit.

What if she did have a man? What if she was serious with some great guy who bought her lots of presents and treated her like—

“Did you just hang up on me?” Greg’s voice growled in his ear.

Braxton sighed. God, he had to quit thinking about Tom’s daughter.

“Okay, fine,” he muttered. Maybe a night out with a “hottie” would take his mind off Lenna.

“But you owe me big time.”





CHAPTER 4




He was four days into the New Year, and Braxton had a premonition it was going to be one sucky-ass year.

He sat slumped in a chair at a small table of the Wild Side Night Club and fiddled with the label on his Heineken bottle, already dying to get home.

Braxton needed to murder his good ol’ pal, Gregory. Erica, his date for the evening, was on the dance floor, gyrating to the music and having the time of her life. Braxton glanced at her and shuddered.

She wasn’t ugly, not by a long shot, but—

Braxton shuddered again. He didn’t think there were words to describe Erica Wright.

Personable? Yes, she seemed plenty personable and acted interested in what anyone had to say. Very interested. But, to put it plainly, the woman liked to space invade. She simply got way too close whenever he talked to her.

For a while, Braxton was convinced she did it on purpose, thinking herself a comedian. But as the evening progressed, he realized she had no idea she freaked people out when she got right in their face—usually about six inches away—whenever they tried to start a conversation.

Somebody needed to tell her about personal room. But Braxton decided he wasn’t going to be the guy to do it.

She seemed to have a good sense of humor, though. She was a cheerful gal. Then again, she had the most God-awful nasally laugh. Braxton actually felt kind of sorry for her. She seemed nice.

It was too bad he was bothered by her quirks.

He’d glanced quickly in Greg’s direction the first moment he met her—right after she had approached him as if she wanted to inspect his nostrils for nose hairs. But Greg had cleverly kept his gaze from falling anywhere near Braxton. The lousy traitor. He’d known all along about Erica’s space problem.

“Never again,” he muttered to himself.

There was no way he was ever going on another blind date in his life.

The room was loud, so no one heard his muttered ravings. It was smoky too, and packed with a bunch of crazy college kids.

Braxton sat by himself at a tall table for four. While Greg stood at the bar, getting another round of Pina Coladas for the ladies, their two dates continued having a blast on the dance floor.