Guy Hater (Fisher Brothers 2)

“Yeah. What kind of girls do you find attractive? I want to know my chances, duh,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

“Frank, I’m sorry. She should never be allowed to leave the house,” Jess said in a rush, but Rachel refused to be deterred.

“Ay, dios mio, please tell me it’s not that stick-figure bleached blonde in the corner?” She pretended to gag in mock disgust.

I turned to search out who was referring to, and it wasn’t long before I spotted the typical Southern California blonde. I had no idea who she was and had never seen her before.

“No. Definitely not her.” She couldn’t have been more different from Claudia in every way.

“Aha! So you were looking at someone!” Rachel clapped her hands with delight. “But really, thank God it wasn’t her. I would hate it if you were that cliché.”

When Jess cleared her throat, Rachel’s eyes widened. “No offense, amiga. You’re not cliché just because you’re blond and have blue eyes. You’re smart and don’t look like you’re searching for a sugar daddy.”

“Admit it. You would totally hate me if you didn’t know me,” Jess said, pretending to be offended.

Rachel growled and narrowed her eyes. “Probably.”

“I knew it. How are we even friends?”

“Your life would be so boring without me,” Rachel said as she threw out her hands. “Plus, you’d have no culture!”

As Jess covered her mouth with her hand, I laughed. “I wasn’t looking at anyone. You know I have a girlfriend.”

“Who isn’t blond, right?” Rachel asked jokingly.

I shook my head. “Nope. Not blond.”

“Why isn’t she ever here? I’ve never seen her before. Do you have a picture?” Rachel bounced in her chair, getting a little too animated. She was like a Latin cocker spaniel, if there were such a thing, hopping around, tail wagging, peeing on the floor in excitement.

“Leave him alone, Rach,” Jess said, and I shot her a thankful look.

“On that note, I’m going to make the rounds. You two try to stay out of trouble. Mostly you.” I pointed at Rachel. “Don’t start a bar fire with Ryan or anything.”

“I’d do anything that boy asked. Fires included,” she shouted at me, but I was already walking away from them and straight toward Claudia. Who was anything but blond or typical.

No, Claudia was exotic. She was cultured and classy, and downright beautiful in every way. The shape of her body, the curve of her hips, and her ample breasts were what guys dreamed of. But for me, that wasn’t it. It was more the way she carried herself, so self-assured and confident. And her eyes. I saw those eyes in my head more times than I cared to admit.

As I neared, I could hear the men flirting with them, doing their best to run some sort of game, but Claudia wasn’t buying into it. I knew it by the tone of her voice, which sounded bored. For some reason, that made me ridiculously happy, and I had no business being that happy.

“Frank!” Claudia jumped up as soon as she saw me and moved through the throng of guys effortlessly. They all turned to see who had her attention.

Yeah, it’s me, motherfuckers.

She practically leaped into my arms, and I held her all too willingly. Nothing felt better in this moment than that woman in my grasp, no matter how wrong it should have felt. Her body fit mine like it was made for it, each curve melting against mine. I inhaled the scent of her hair as it spilled around me. I had no idea what it smelled like, exactly; I just knew that it smelled good.

“Hey there.” I smiled as I released her. “These guys bothering you?”

She cast them a quick look before focusing those beautiful brown eyes on me. “Nah, they’re harmless. Just typical, is all.”

I leaned toward her, my body feeling like it was way too far away from hers, when the reality was it was probably way too fucking close. “Typical how?”

“Oh, you know. All talk about their expensive cars and their fancy jobs. Apparently, they have more money than God.”

I laughed at how she mimicked their voices, and tried to read her into reaction to them. “You’re not into cocky rich boys?”

“Not really.” She smiled at me. “I do like men who work hard and value what they do, but not because they want to show it all off. Don’t get me wrong, Frank.” She placed her hand on my chest, and the heat from her skin instantly warmed me. “I like nice things, but not at the expense of what truly matters.”

“And what’s that?”