Вечер накануне Нового года. Народное творчество

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      One more glance at the door, and there she was. She was prettier than the pictures on her website, and those had been damn good. He hadn’t realized she’d be so slim. That wasn’t even the right word. Delicate was more accurate. Five-seven or so, auburn hair that curved and swirled across her shoulders, and big dark eyes that might have captured every bit of his attention if it hadn’t been for her figure.

      Online, she’d appeared trim and sophisticated. What the photographs had failed to show were her curves.

      “Cameron,” she said, holding out her hand. Her handshake was firm, and her gaze roamed down to his chest before it came back up to meet his eyes. “Molly Grainger,” she said. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

      “Nope. Just got here myself.” Neither of them had let go yet. “Nice to meet you, Molly. You can call me Cam.” She had one of those smiles that made him automatically grin in return. “Well, I guess I’ll go check on our reservation.”

      He nodded toward a brunette holding menus. “The hostess is waiting for us.”

      “Oh, good.”

      Walking slightly behind her, he stole a glance at her round, pert bottom and slender legs. Things had gone from good to great, and they hadn’t even talked yet. After weaving their way through the dinner crowd, they were seated in a relatively private booth.

      Molly stared at him for longer than he was expecting, but it wasn’t the eyes-meet-and-linger of a sexual connection. More of an oh, God, what have I done? look.

      “I was impressed with your website,” Cam said, hoping to ease her discomfort. “I read some of your articles. Very interesting. Our professions dovetail in so many areas.”

      “My website?” Her shoulders sagged on a sigh. “Oh.”

      Cam’s grin faded. “Is that against the rules or something?”

      “What? No, of course not. It’s just—” She straightened. Her shoulders were neatly squared by a white blouse that looked old-fashioned to him, but then again, he knew nothing about trends. Besides, who cared when she was so pretty. “So much for making small talk. You already know everything about me.”

      “Somehow I doubt that. Unless all you do is work.”

      “Basically, that is all I do, yes.”

      “So that explains why someone so attractive is doing the trading-card thing.”

      Her cheeks turned a little pinker. “And what’s your excuse?”

      “A meddling sister.”

      Molly raised her eyebrows. “So you don’t actually want to be here.”

      “No, no, no. I didn’t say that. In fact, I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.” He meant it. Whether it was just nerves or something else, he could tell she was struggling to hold her reactions in check, but, in fact, she was very expressive. Fascinatingly so. Even now, the blush that had been on the apples of her cheeks was spreading to her temples. “Which doesn’t mean my sister didn’t meddle. She’s a first-class buttinsky. Her and the rest of my sisters...and, damn, I just remembered that you know her.”

      “Don’t worry about it. We’ve met, but I wouldn’t say I know her.”

      “Thank God. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.”

      They exchanged smiles, and just before he was going to ask her if she’d gone on these kinds of dates before, he was interrupted by the waitress requesting their drink orders. Molly asked for a few more minutes so she could decide on her meal first, and Cam got a little excited. If she didn’t want to linger over cocktails, maybe that meant they were headed on the fast track to the bedroom. The menu suddenly seemed more interesting. Couldn’t go wrong with a steak. Good source of protein. If he was lucky, he’d need the stamina later. “Any idea what you’re going to get?”

      She looked up as he set his menu aside. “I was thinking of ordering the baby-artichoke antipasti with a house salad. What would you recommend pairing with it?”

      “Isn’t that your specialty?” he asked, surprised, hoping it wasn’t a test. He knew what he liked, but he was a novice when it came to wine.

      “It is, yes, but I’ll be having beer tonight. I’m off the clock.”

      He liked the way she’d leaned in to tell him that bit. As if being off the clock was a special treat. After seeing her work calendar on her website, he could understand why.

      “Let me take a look.” He grabbed his menu again. “I haven’t been here in a while and I don’t know what they’re serving anymore.” It took him a minute to focus on the liquor selections instead of Molly. The beer list wasn’t extensive, but the offerings were excellent. “If you’re game, I’d go with the Green Flash. It’s a great India pale ale, really complex flavors and strong hops.”

      The smile he got in response was a knockout. “I’m game. That’s one I’ve never tried, and it sounds excellent.”

      After the waitress had taken their orders, Molly turned to him again, crossing her arms on the wooden table as she leaned in. “Now that we have that settled, I’m anxious to hear about you. You’re my first hot guy.”

      Glad he hadn’t been drinking, he stifled a cough. “Uh...”

      “I mean, first trading-card guy. I’ve met hot men before.”

      “Well, you’re my first trading-card woman, so we’re even.”

      “Fair enough,” she said, “but none of that gets you out of telling me about your life. I know you make craft beers and that you come from a tall family. Your turn.”

      “You didn’t look me up?”

      “I can now see my error in judgment regarding that, but no. I didn’t. I spoke briefly to Emerald and took a chance on your card.”

      “All right. I have four sisters, all of them tall and athletic. My family owns a bar in Queens called, strangely enough, The Four Sisters, and you’re right. I’m into craft beers.”

      He could have mentioned the job in Syracuse, but he didn’t bother. Besides, he wanted the spotlight back on her.

      “Why’s it called The Four Sisters? What are you, chopped liver?”

      “Ha. I’ll have to remember to mention that to Emmy. It got its name before any of my sisters were born. My dad had four sisters. So I guess he’s chopped liver, not me.”

      She grew flushed again. “I just meant—”

      “I know,” he said, grinning. “Personally, I think it should be changed to One Brother and Four Pains in His Butt, but that might be hard to put on the label.”

      Giggles like champagne bubbles were made even better by Molly’s efforts to stem them. Man, giggles could go bad in so many ways, but hers made him want to be funny for a living.

      “For what it’s worth, I’d think twice before picking up any beverage СКАЧАТЬ