“Makeup chocolate,” he repeated, skirting the whole thorny issue of their relationship potential.
She gave him another assessing look and then grinned. “Okay. Sounds like fun, so why the hell not?”
He, on the other hand, could think of multiple reasons. He was staring down thirty—from the wrong side of the decade. Although he still had all his working parts, he was banged up something fierce. His knees were good; his trigger finger steady. In short, he was a fixer-upper project and she was no carpenter.
“Give me a time, big guy,” she said, leaning in and patting his chest. “So I can prepare properly.”
Yeah. He was definitely out of his league here. Maddie was a dating guru, unlike his sorry self. At the very least, his instant erection was ironclad proof that she’d mastered the fine art of flirting.
“Eight o’clock,” he muttered and beat a strategic retreat.
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