Bad Boys Do (Donovan Brothers Brewery 2)

Gwen finally sat up, wiping tears from her eyes. “You should totally hit that,” she said, pointing toward the bar.

“Yeah, right. I’m sure I’m exactly his type.”

“I think his ‘type’ is female, and you’ve got that covered. He’d be a really nice dip back into the old sexing pool.”

“I thought it was the dating pool.”

Gwen shook her head. “It’s a new world out there, Olivia.”

“Oh, I know about the new world, and I am not interested in being a cougar, thank you very much.”

“You’ve already been a trophy wife. Why don’t you try the other side of the coin?”

Olivia finished off one of the sample glasses. “I was not a trophy wife. I didn’t have the necessary qualifications.” She eyed Gwen’s chest with an obvious quirk of her brow.

“Yeah, but Victor was twelve years older than you, right? So go younger this time.”

Even as she shook her head, she spared a glance for Jamie. “How old is he, anyway?”

“I’m not sure. Twenty-five? Twenty-six? He’s in his damn prime.”

“My God, he’s just a baby.”

But apparently Olivia was the only one who felt that way. Amidst a lot of smothered laughter, one of the women approached the pool table and made a big show of putting the quarters in for a game. Olivia looked on, confused by the merriment, until the woman—was it Marie?—stood up and aimed an exaggerated frown at the table. “Jamie?” she called. “The pool table’s jammed!”

Jamie came around the bar, wiping his hands on a towel.

“It took my money, but it didn’t give me any balls,” she pouted.

“Well, I’d better take a look.” He slung the towel over his shoulder and crouched down, and Olivia finally understood what was going on. His kilt hitched up, revealing a few inches of strong thigh, and even though Olivia thought this was a childish prank, she stared right along with everyone else. She wondered what those thighs felt like. Hard, she thought. Thick with muscle. Strong. They looked like they’d taste damn good, too.

He slammed a fist into the coin mechanism, then pulled several times. Ropes of muscle flexed and relaxed.

Good Lord.

“Ah, here’s the problem,” Jamie said. “You put a nickel in.”

“Oh, silly me!”

He handed the coin over and started to get up, but his eyes swept the room and caught on Olivia. His brows rose at the same time his gaze fell to his bare knees.

“Busted,” Gwen whispered, as they both whipped around to face the table.

“She shouldn’t have done that,” Olivia whispered back. “And we shouldn’t have looked.”

Gwen pressed her lips tight together to stifle her laughter.

“I’m serious!” Olivia insisted, but Jamie’s voice from just behind her chair cut her off.

“Really, ladies? You’re getting lazy. You pulled that trick four months ago. How about a little originality next time?”

“Aw, Jamie!” half the table cried in disappointment.

“And try not to break my pool table.”

He really was adorable. Like a puppy. But Olivia kept her eyes on the table. “Are you ready, Gwen?”

“To leave? It’s only eight.”