Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

Rolling my eyes, I gave in and pulled out my phone, tapping in his address to make him happy. “I’ll bring them to you first thing tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Fine.”

As I tucked my phone back in my pocket, I said, “Wouldn’t hurt you to be nice to me.”

“Wouldn’t hurt you to be nice to me,” he repeated in a falsetto, mocking me, and I suddenly felt like I was back at the bar, listening to Frank give me shit.

“All right, old man, I’m leaving. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Stay away from my angel,” he said the moment I got up and headed for the door.

Turning around to face him, I said, “You mean, my angel?”

I stepped into the hallway before he could say anything else. As I left, I thought I heard the sound of something hitting the door frame, and when I glanced back, a single plastic spoon lay on the floor.

Grumpy ass.

Guys like Ryan

Sofia

Nervous energy ran through me as I waited for the world’s slowest elevator to arrive on the proper floor. Surrounded by a handful of solemn strangers, I had no idea why I was so anxious, my stomach knotting tighter with each breath I inhaled. The doors finally opened and I moved to step out, my gaze on the floor as I watched my step.

“Hey.”

A voice grabbed my attention just as a hand wrapped firmly around my arm, bringing me to a halt.

When I looked up into Ryan’s panty-melting blue eyes, my stomach knotted even tighter. He was the reason for all that nervous, pent-up energy. Something inside me must have known that he would be here. I must have sensed his presence, regardless of how crazy that seemed.

“Oh, hey.” I took a step back, pulling my arm from his grasp, but the spot where he’d touched me still tingled.

“You coming to see Grant?” he asked, blocking the elevator door, and I moved a few steps to the side to give the people exiting it more room.

Pretending not to be unnerved by Ryan’s presence, I said, “Yeah, I just came to check on him. Have you seen him?”

Ryan’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Oh yeah. He’s a pistol, but he’ll be happy to see you.”

“He will?” How could an unconscious man I’d never met before this morning possibly be happy to see me?

“He will. I’m about to head back to the bar, unless you wanted to grab a coffee or dinner or something? I could wait until you’re done visiting him first.” Ryan frowned, seeming unsure of himself. “If you wanted, I mean.”

I shifted my weight, unsure of how to answer. “That’s probably not a good idea,” I said, trying to convince him of what I’d already convinced myself.

A flirtatious gleam came to his eyes. “How could going out with me be anything but a good idea?”

The man was trying to bait me and I knew it, but I didn’t have time for games. Looking into his beautiful eyes, I kept my gaze steady. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

“And what impression would that be, exactly?”

“That I’m interested in you.”

I used my most convincing voice so Ryan would understand, but he didn’t waver. No, his grin only widened and his gaze intensified. It didn’t matter what I said . . . he obviously didn’t believe me.

“So we’ll get coffee as friends.” He shrugged as if this was totally normal, the two of us being friends. “Friends get coffee.”

“Friends?” A small laugh escaped me.

“Yep. How else will I get to know your name?”