LITMIR.BIZ

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Three, tops.”

      Margaritas, too? He wasn’t even going to ask how many she’d had. “Sounds like you had a busy night. What with those men buying you drinks and all. But you still didn’t have to accept them,” he pointed out. “Unless they poured the alcohol down your throat?”

      “Nothing like that. But they were nice. And it would’ve been rude to decline, right? Anyway, the only reason they were buying drinks was because of this dress. If I’d showed up in jeans and a T-shirt without the makeup, they wouldn’t even have noticed me.”

      He doubted that. But she was right about the dress. She looked all curvy and soft in that little bit of silk. “We men are but simple creatures.”

      “No kidding.” She poured the entire container of syrup over the half stack of pancakes he’d been looking forward to. “That’s why we womenfolk love you guys so much.”

      He used his fork to slide a pancake from the bottom of the pile onto his plate. “We aim to please. So tell me...” he said, wondering about something he hadn’t yet gotten a clear answer on—a question that had become extremely important to him. Or at least, her answer to it had. “Why did you come here? And before you tell me it was only to use the bathroom or because it was closer and you were too tired to sit in the back of a cab for the ride to your place, remember I am an attorney and therefore have learned how to spot lies.”

      Picking up a piece of toast, she avoided his eyes. “You want the truth?”

      “That would be an interesting twist to this entire experience.”

      She nodded. “Okay, here it is. I came here for you.”

      * * *

      DAPHNE NIBBLED ON a triangle of toast as Oakes stared at her, mouth open, eyes wary. Huh. Not so thrilled with the truth now, was he?

      “What do you mean?” he asked, brave man that he was. But he looked as if he was bracing himself for her answer.

      He wasn’t doing much for her ego.

      He’d said he wanted the truth and she’d given it to him, but now one of life’s greatest, deepest and hardest to answer questions played in her mind.

      Continue with that whole honesty thing or...?

      Or lie like a dog on a hot summer’s day?

      She set down her toast. Yeah. She was going with option number two. Though she wasn’t against combining the truth and a lie for something in between. It was easier to keep track of a fib if you threw a bit of fact in there as well.

      “Let me tell you a story,” she began.

      He raised his eyebrows. “I’m going to need more coffee for this,” he muttered as if listening to one of her entertaining tales was some hardship.

      “Hey,” she said as he stood up, handing him her cup to refill as well. “I’ll have you know my stories are very well told.”

      “They are,” he agreed, pouring coffee into their cups and rejoining her. “They’re also long. And are filled with repetitive, and at times, irrelevant information.”

      She waved that away. “Now, don’t get all lawyerly on me. No one likes that. Sit back and relax and drink your coffee. You wanted to know why I came here, but before I can get to that part, I have to start at the beginning.”

      “I already know all that. Your cousins tricked you into going out to dinner then forced you to go to a club where several men—”

      “Several? I’m flattered. But it was only the two.”

      “Where two men vied for your attention—”

      She snorted. “Believe me, it wasn’t my attention they were vying for.”

      He frowned and she noticed his fingers had gone white on his cup. She hid a smile behind her own mug as she lifted it to take a sip.

      “You got drunk,” he continued in what she assumed must be his professional voice. Laying out the facts as he knew them in a deep baritone. “The cousins who took you to said club all left you alone to your own devices. You had enough sense to get a cab, but had to go to the bathroom and didn’t want to travel the distance from the club to your apartment so you, in a moment of clarity, gave him my address. Have I summed up your previous statement clearly?”

      She blinked. God, but he was so freaking cute with his courtroom tone and wide shoulders. Smart, funny and good-looking. Was it any wonder she was stuck on him?

      “That was very concise and, yes, that is accurate,” she said, turning to face him then crossing her legs. His gaze dropped, briefly, to the movement before he brought his attention back to her face. “But what I didn’t tell you was the reason my cousins got it into their tiny brains that I needed a night on the town, one that preferably ended with wild, kinky sex with a stranger.”

      “Your cousins wanted you to hook up with a stranger?”

      She lifted a shoulder. “Well, not all of them. Two were for, two were against. Nadine and Steph were hoping I’d meet my soul mate. But they all agreed that I needed a night out, that I needed to put myself out there.”

      “Because?”

      This was the tricky part. The embarrassing part. “They think I’m heartbroken over Ricky.”

      “Ricky? As in your ex-boyfriend?”

      “Ex-fiancé,” she corrected primly. They may not have been engaged all that long but he had proposed and she had worn the diamond he’d given her. That made him her fiancé—even if only for a few short months. “He’s back in town.”

      She watched him carefully but there was no stiffness to his shoulders. No jealousy tightening his features.

      Too bad. She could use some encouragement here.

      “Has Ricky contacted you?” Oakes asked, again in lawyer mode. “Does he want to get back together?”

      “He’s contacted me,” she said slowly, “but not to get back together.” Though when she’d broken up with him six months ago, she’d imagined him trying a bit harder to get her back. Guess she was easy to get over. “We met for coffee the other day and he told me he’s getting married.”

      “I see.”

      “I’m fine,” she told him because he was looking at her with sympathy. As if she was someone to be pitied.

      Well, why wouldn’t he pity her? He thought—as everyone did—that Ricky had been the one to call off their engagement.

      Probably because that’s what she’d told them all.

      “I’m sure you are,” Oakes said quickly. Too quickly to be believed. “But if you need anything,” he said, giving her hand a pat, “you know I’m here for you, right?”

      Her throat tightened. She did know that. It wasn’t just because he cared about her. It was because he was that kind of guy. The kind who was always there for people, for his family and friends, someone they could count on, could lean on.

      And she was going to take horrible advantage of that very trait, one she found super sexy and one of the many reasons she was attracted to him.

      And she was almost certain he was attracted to her, too—he just needed some help realizing it. And if that took a teeny, tiny bit of manipulation, a few half-truths and some serious acting chops on her part, then so be it.

      She sighed, hoped it was the long, drawn-out sigh of the brokenhearted. “Thank you. I know I shouldn’t be upset about Ricky moving on, it’s just...it was a shock.” Partly because she’d never thought he’d return to Houston from Dallas, where he’d moved after their breakup. Or that he’d find someone else so quickly. Someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with after he’d begged her to come with him. When she’d told him she couldn’t marry him, he’d acted devastated. Had insisted

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