The woman came here with a small, sparkling clutch. It’s lying on the dining table, and when I walk past, I pick it up and take it with me over to the back of the full bar on the far side of the main room. I set it down as I look at my choices, then decide on water instead of booze.
I’m not drunk, but I’m definitely still buzzed. It would be a bad idea to show up for Donovan’s exorcism hungover.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
I turn around, water glass to my lips, and find Miss Violet coming towards me, tying the belt of a fluffy courtesy robe. Her long, brown legs tease me through the slit up the front. Her long, dark hair is a little bit tousled and even from here, those eyes catch me like a bird in a net.
Damn. She is very nice to look at.
If I didn’t have McKay, I would consider keeping this one.
I set my glass down and smile at her. “What?”
She nods her head towards the counter. “My purse.”
“Oh.” I look down and see it there, feel a little bit like a criminal, then apologize profusely. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t open it. I don’t know why I picked it up. It’s… quite pretty.”
When she reaches the bar, she has her hand out. So I plop the tiny purse into her palm. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I don’t know why you’re thanking me.”
“There’s nothing to see in there. Not even an ID. So.” Her shoulders shrug up to her ears. “I don’t care if you look. Just don’t steal the purse, please. It’s an heirloom. My gra-mere beaded it by hand almost a hundred years ago.”
I look at the little purse again and nod. “It’s beautiful. And for the record, I would never steal anything from a woman.”
This makes Miss Violet chuckle. “From a woman, huh? Men are fair game?”
“Absolutely. Bunch of worthless, cheatin’, backstabbin’ so-and-sos.”
“Is that who that is in the bed? Just another cheatin’, backstabbin’ so-and-so? A conquest, maybe?”
Now it’s my turn to chuckle. “McKay? No. He doesn’t cheat, he doesn’t lie, and there’s no way in hell that man would ever stab me in the back.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
I turn, grab another glass, then turn back. “Thirsty?”
“I’ll have water too.”
I get her water, hand it over, then lean on the back counter of the bar, crossing my arms over my bare chest. Which, I notice, she is appreciating. “I’m very confident in McKay. We’ve been best friends since we were kids. More like brothers, really.”
Her bright hazel-green eyes twinkle over the crystal glass as she drinks. “Except for the sex, right?”
“Yeah. Except for that. But it’s a new thing.”
“So you two don’t do this regularly?” She kinda twirls her finger around, indicating this scenario between us, I guess.
“Fuck girls together, you mean? Nah.”
“I’m your first?”
“Well.” I sigh. Thinking of Indie. Then decide to erase Indie so what I say next isn’t exactly a lie. “Yeah. You’re the first.”
“Hmm.” She smiles at this revelation. Like it pleases her. “Will you do it again?”
“I don’t know yet. I guess that depends on whether or not you’re up for it.”
“No.” She laughs. “Not with me. Anyone. Will you do it with anyone again?”
“Oh. I dunno. It’s a lot of work seducing a woman into to a threesome.”
She spits out a sip of water, then laughs out loud. “Adam, was it?”
I nod. “That’s right.”
“You’re fun. And that’s funny. There were no fewer than two dozen women in the club trying to work up the nerve to go over to you and your best friend still in bed.”
“I didn’t even notice.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Smooth, too.”
I am kinda smooth, so I keep it going. Why not, right? I like her. “We only had eyes for you, Miss Violet.”
She snickers, then offers me her hand from across the bar. “Perrine DeCoudreau. Very nice to meet you.”
“Perrine.” I step forward, take her hand in mine, kiss her knuckles until she smiles. “Adam Boucher. Very, very, very nice to meet you.”
She beams a smile at me. “You’re kinda flirty.”
“Not usually.” I let go of her hand, then step back, leaning on the counter again. “I’m sure I sound like every other man who comes through that club, but I’m really not every other man who comes through that club.”
“Of course not. There’s only one owner.”
“Two,” I say, holding up two fingers. “Everything that’s mine is also McKay’s.”
“Wow. You really do trust him. Are you two married then?”
“No.” I laugh again.
“Why is that funny?”
“He’s not gay. Neither am I, really.”
Her smile drops and her face goes serious. And for a moment I wonder if I offended her somehow. But then she says, “You love each other.”
I nod. “We just love each other. I guess that’s all there is to it.”