Flirting with Forever: A Hot Romantic Comedy(35)

But it wasn’t Dex. It was my brother, Jensen, holding a bouquet of flowers.

I let out a breath. This could either be exactly what I needed or a ruinous end to an already shitty day. You never knew with him.

The corners of his mouth curled in a smile. “Nora, my sweet sister.”

“Hi, Jensen.”

Jensen Lakes, son of my father and his British mistress-turned-wife, was the definition of a playboy. Devilishly handsome, well-dressed, charming, witty—and well aware of his gifts and the effect they had on women. He’d grown up in the UK and used his accent to his full advantage now that he lived here in the States.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? Maybe I should have rang first.”

He never called first. I was used to it. Especially since he’d moved to Seattle a few years ago. At first it had been odd, having him around. It was like he wanted to be a part of my life, which had surprised me. Jensen had always struck me as only being concerned with himself—particularly his money and his women, both of which he had in abundance.

But he didn’t have anything to gain from a relationship with his half-sister—at least not that I could see. He never tried to use me for networking or business contacts and, despite flirting shamelessly with my friends, he’d never slept with any of them. Now they were all married and, in his words, devastatingly unavailable. Still, he kept in touch, showing up to take me to lunch or dinner regularly.

Despite his ridiculousness, it made me like him.

“I was working but I might as well be done for the day.” I opened the door wider and stepped aside so he could come in.

He pushed the flowers at me, his attention already on my house. “So this is the new abode. I was surprised you moved out of the city but I suppose I can see the appeal.”

I headed for the kitchen. “Do you want a tour? Or a drink?”

“Why not both?”

I poured us each a glass of wine and took a moment to put the flowers in water before taking him on a tour of my house. He nodded appreciatively and complimented my design choices as we went from room to room. I showed him the back yard through the glass door but he didn’t seem terribly interested. Just glanced outside and put his half-empty glass down on the kitchen counter.

“How about dinner?” he said. “My treat.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“A new house seems like a reason to celebrate.”

I smiled. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”

He scowled. “Well, you had to go and move out to the suburbs. I have no idea if there’s anywhere decent to eat within a ten mile radius.”

“Such a snob.” I grabbed my phone and did a quick search. I hadn’t lived there long enough to know the local restaurant scene. “There’s a wine bar that looks good. Great reviews.”

“We’ll give it a try. I’ll drive.”

“Give me a few minutes to change.”

I went upstairs and chose a black halter top, skinny jeans, and snakeskin heels. When I came down, Jensen was looking at the photos I’d put up on a shelf in the living room—photos from each of my best friends’ weddings.

“Always a bridesmaid,” he said with a mischievous lilt to his voice.

“Thank goodness for that.”

He sighed, placing the photo of Everly’s wedding party back on the shelf. “My one regret in this life is that I never got my hands on any of your delicious friends.”

“And my one triumph is that I kept you away from them.”

He clicked his tongue. “Nora. You could have trusted me.”

“I love you, Jensen, but no woman should ever trust you.”

With an amused smile, he headed for the door. “Shall we?”

I grabbed my purse, tucked my phone inside, and followed him out. He offered me his arm, walking me out to his car, and opened the passenger side door.

“Pretending to be a gentleman today?”

“I’m always a perfect gentleman.”

I laughed as I got in his car. The wine bar was only about ten minutes away and he found parking on the street. The entrance was almost hard to find, giving it an air of exclusivity. Inside, we found modern decor and low light. Classy and simple. Jensen practically had the hostess’s phone number before we were seated but I stopped him before he could get his phone out.

“Do you have to try to pick up every woman you meet?” I asked once we’d taken our seats.

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

He shrugged. “It’s nice to have options.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” He grinned.

We chatted about work while we perused the menu. I didn’t have a clear idea of what he actually did for a living. He seemed to have his hands in a variety of businesses and often traveled for work. After the server took our orders, I shared a bit about my professional frustrations. He was sympathetic, although he didn’t have any advice I hadn’t thought of myself.

But I did remember how nice it could be to have a one-on-one conversation with him—where he wasn’t showing off for one of my friends.

Our dinners came and we talked a bit about our father. Jensen had seen him more recently than I had, on his last trip back to London, but I’d talked to him on the phone shortly after my house had closed. It had been a friendly, if not exactly deep, conversation. Typical for my dad.