Bad Boys Do (Donovan Brothers Brewery 2)

Her chest filled with horror as she slid her left foot back to join the right. “Okay. Thanks.”

“You should follow our Twitter account! He always lets everyone know when he’s behind the bar.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks. I’ll do that.” She coughed, then repeated. “Thanks.”

Just as Olivia was reaching back for the door handle, the swinging doors opened and Jamie walked through. Oh, God. Oh, God.

His smile froze and his eyes widened in surprise. “Ms. Ol—” His gaze slid to the female bartender and then back to Olivia. “Olivia. Hi. What are you doing here?”

The woman winked at Olivia and said, “Look who was hiding in the back,” before she retreated to the bar. “Hey, Jamie,” she said lightly as she passed him.

Jamie ignored her and walked toward Olivia, and her heart sped to a frightening pace. She couldn’t back down now. Because what other reason could she have for being here? She hadn’t even thought to bring class handouts or a book or anything that would offer an excuse for her presence. This was the kind of disaster that descended when you didn’t make lists.

“Hi,” she croaked.

“Hi.” He put his hands in his pockets and waited, his mouth curved in a puzzled smile.

“Are you working?” she asked.

“Not really. I’m off today.”

“Oh.” She nodded, and ke

pt nodding until Jamie cocked his head.

“Did I forget something in class, or…?”

Olivia took a deep breath. “Are you busy tonight?”

That popped his chin straight. “What?”

“You asked, and I said no, but…there’s a party I have to go to tonight. One of the professors is leaving….”

The wide smile spreading across his face distracted her.

“What?” she snapped, irritated by the way her pulse sped.

“I’m just…surprised.”

She felt a sudden fear that he’d only been kidding. It had all been a flirtatious joke. She couldn’t possibly be his type. “If you don’t want to—”

“Of course I want to. What time should I pick you up?”

“We can just meet there. There’s no need—”

“Right. What time should I pick you up?”

For the first time, Olivia caught a glimpse of steel beneath his velvet exterior. Her pulse enjoyed it very much. “Seven-thirty?”

“Great. Seven-thirty. I’ll be there. Do you want a beer or a glass of water or…?”

“No. No, thank you. I’d better just…” Guilt was turning her stomach, so she gave him her address and phone number, then stammered out a goodbye while he smiled sympathetically.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, making it sound like a promise.

She left with an awkward lurch for the door. The heavy wood nearly closed on her leg, but thankfully Jamie caught it just before it got her. She hurried to her car and then collapsed inside.

What the hell had she just done? Why was she going on a date with a man who inspired women to regularly come into a bar to ask for him? It was madness. She must look like a fool.