The Boss's Son Box Set

“Does this only happen if you’re the frontman or do the drummers and stuff get pelted with underpants, too?”

“That’s where being the frontman, as in, out in front, has its disadvantages. Sure, you get all the phone numbers and all the attention but you also get all the tighty-whiteys with skid marks, too. I’m like a human shield for the drummer in that way.”

Britt laughed so loudly that she snorted, then covered her mouth with her hand in belated embarrassment. By the time they got to dessert, they had decided to share the sampler. While she waited for another margarita, Jack excused himself to go to the restroom.

“Are you ditching me?” she asked flatly. “Because that’s been happening to me a lot tonight.”

“No worries,” he said with a wink. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him walk away and had to admit she enjoyed the view. His wrinkled button down clung nicely to broad shoulders and his jeans hugged narrow hips. Britt thought idly that if he ditched her, she’d really miss him. This was easily the most fun she’d ever had on a date, even if it wasn’t a conventional date. He was smart and funny and sexy as hell. She gulped down half a glass of water just to try to cool herself down and get her mind out of the gutter.

Although to be fair, her mind wasn’t in the gutter so much as it was peeling off his shirt. She thought he’d look amazing with his shirt off, lean and cut. He had long elegant fingers but his wrists were manly and thick. She’d never had a thing for wrists or guitarists, but she most definitely had a thing for Jack, the margarita rescuer. She wondered if he sent drinks to women often and how many of them took him up on it. Switching back to her glass of wine, she decided firmly that she didn’t care. Because tonight, he was with her. If he ever decided to come back to the table where she was waiting not so patiently for him.

Oh Jack, she thought, I’d be thrilled if you’d introduce me to blues guitar and teach me how beautiful I am. In fact, I’d be thrilled if you offered to teach me to make balloon animals and told me I looked like Jeff Goldblum as long as you were wearing those tight jeans and had that bedroom smile turned on me.

Chapter 4

Britt laughed at her train of thought and made herself look out at the water instead of watching the doorway into the bar to see if he was coming yet. When she checked the time on her phone in what she hoped was a casual manner; it had only been three minutes. She was panicked over nothing. The man went to the restroom. He’d be back. They’d share dessert. They might even share more than dessert if Britt had her way.

The desserts arrived before he returned and he found her halfway through the cheesecake.

“What? It had chocolate on it. You weren’t here. That practically screams ‘go ahead and eat the best one without me’,” she said as he grinned.

Jack had one hell of a grin. It was almost, nearly as appealing as his ass was in his faded jeans. She smiled back. For the first time in her life, she understood the expression about undressing someone with your eyes, because she totally was. He was talking about desserts and a rustic ricotta cheesecake with lemon that he had once. She was staring openly, possibly ogling. In her mind, she unbuttoned his shirt very slowly, savoring the sliver of tanned muscled chest revealed by each slow, sweet button. Then, in her mind, she licked her way down his chest. She was pretty sure that kind of behavior was frowned upon in Tamarind, so she kept the idea to herself. For the moment anyway.

They finished off the dessert sampler and she asked for the check. The waiter shook his head.

“We are aware of the—predicament in which you found yourself. There will be no charge for your meal. Tamarind wishes you the best, and hopefully, you will be our guest again in the future.” The server said neatly.

Surprised, she nodded.

“Thank you so much. The meal was lovely, really. And the margaritas kicked ass,” she said and then pressed her lips together in dismay, fairly certain she’d said something inappropriate.

Britt left a big tip and stood, holding out her hand to Jack.

“Thank you for joining me. Because of you, this was a much better evening than I thought it would be.”

“It kicked ass,” he smirked.

“I’m pretty sure you’re making fun of me, but I don’t much care right now.”

“I had fun, Britt,” he said. “I’m glad your guy acted like a douche. If he had been decent, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“You would’ve had to hit on some other woman at the restaurant.”

“I think it’s safe to say you’re a higher quality than the general run of women who get hit on.”

“You mean I’m not as hot as the general run of women who get hit on?”

“Not at all. I mean there’s more to you than that. You made me laugh, a lot. You’re smart and self-deprecating, and that dress is practically a dirty movie.”

“Thanks. That’s not exactly what I was going for. I was going for elegant and a little sexy.”

“I think you ended up with extremely sexy and...what was the other part? I got stuck on sexy.”

“I don’t mind you getting stuck on sexy,” she said.

“You know, I’ve never slept with an accountant,” he remarked, and she smiled slyly.