The Matchmaker's Playbook (Wingmen Inc., #1)(26)

And her hair was down.

Makeup-free, she was three times the girl Serena was. And Serena looked like she’d just robbed a Sephora and tried on the entire stash.

“I’m—” Lex coughed into his hand. “Sorry, I just . . . Low blood sugar.”

“Good one,” I whispered under my breath.

He sent me an irritated glare but said nothing. Silence began a slow stretch to awkward proportions.

“Shall we sit?” I rubbed my hands together and moved to the small table directly next to the kitchen, around which sat a mismatched group of green and blue chairs as well as two gray folding chairs. The table was something Gabi had grabbed from a yard sale, and the plates had been passed down to her from her grandma. They had little flowers on the sides and always made me ponder what life would be like with an actual family where kids sat down with their parents and ate food, and they all participated in family conversations.

Not where nannies made the food and the parents called once a week.

And then stopped calling.

And then died.

“So, Blake . . .” Lex spooned a liberal amount of sauce over a pile of steaming spaghetti and handed the first plate to Gabi, since she’d cooked. In Gabi’s kitchen, cooks always ate first. “I like the new look.”

“Thanks.” A bright blush flamed across her cheeks. “Ian was a huge help.”

“Oh, I bet.” Lex grinned.

I kicked his foot under the table while he continued serving everyone. Serena was staring at Blake. Hard.

I knew that look.

Dinner was about to get real.

“I guess it’s okay.” Serena gave a slight shrug. “I mean, if you’re into working out.”

“Which clearly she is,” I pointed out. “Look at her.”

Serena’s lips twisted into something that looked a lot like a snarl. “It’s not like she’s wearing a dress. She’s wearing spandex. Didn’t that go out of style a few years ago?”

“Says the non–gym rat?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t hair extensions go out a few years ago too?” I was pretty confident if I tugged on her hair I could come away with a piece.

Serena’s face heated to a dull red color before she jerked her plate away from Lex and not-so-accidently dropped it onto Blake’s lap. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. It slipped.”

Gabi jumped to her feet, grabbing napkins, while Blake just stared at her lap. Then, in a move I wouldn’t have ever seen coming, she started piling the spaghetti onto her own plate before licking each finger.

I gripped the chair with both hands. Holy shit, that was hot. Spaghetti sauce—who knew?

“It’s alright.” Blake laughed. “I can always toss them in the wash. They’re workout clothes, after all. I’m sure a few weeks from now they’ll be in worse shape than this after practice.”

That shut Serena up.

Dinner was blessedly quiet, except for the chink of flatware against china. I knew it wouldn’t last. After all, Gabi and Lex were sitting next to each other.

It was against the laws of nature for them not to fight.

“Wow.” Blake patted her flat stomach. “That was really good, Gabi. Thank you so much.”

“Thank Ian. He begged for spaghetti night.”

“I beg every night,” I said. “And not just for spaghetti. Last week I wanted ravioli.”

“You sure you aren’t Italian?” Gabi laughed and started collecting everyone’s plates.

“Nope.” I stood. “You cooked. Lex and I will do cleanup.”

Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We will?”

I stared.

Slowly, he scooted out his chair, stood, and helped me take everything into the kitchen. Once the girls were out of earshot, he whistled and said, “Dude, nice work. I didn’t even recognize her.”

I smiled proudly. “She looks cute, right?”

Lex burst out laughing. “Are you high? She looks more than cute.” He stepped backward and peered around the corner, then made his way back into the kitchen. “She looks hot.”

“Hot?” I let the word roll around in my head a bit, then abruptly snuffed it out. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

Dishes. I needed to wash dishes, because if I focused too much on Blake’s small transformation, I was going to be in a world of hurt, and not the emotional kind. Hell no, it would be all physical. Already my body was responding as if my hands weren’t in soapy water but sliding all over her body.

I inwardly groaned. I had no time to stop by some random girl’s house and alleviate the hurt.

“Have you kissed her yet?” Lex asked as I held out a plate for him to take. It dropped out of my hand, but luckily he caught it before it smashed into the floor. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“She’s never kissed a guy. It would be . . . wrong.” I held out another plate. Lex didn’t take it. Instead he stared openmouthed at me.

“Are you . . . falling for her?”

“What?” I burst out laughing. “Hell no. Have you seen her flip-flops?”

“Not like she’d be wearing them in bed, amigo.”

“What’s our number one rule?” I scrubbed the next plate vigorously as visions of her perky breasts invaded every logical corner of my brain.