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Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(5)

Author:Sarah Adams

He grins, and two creases—not quite dimples—bracket his smile like even his body understands how outstanding a smile it is and wants to emphasize it. “Not really. Gretchen and I were both passing through this area so we met up for the night, and then I’ll be headed to Rome tomorrow. Did Amelia not tell you? I’ve been assigned to her again for a while.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” Why didn’t she tell me? Then again, why would she tell me? No one knows I’ve had a thing for Will since I first met him.

“Her team is anticipating a rise in media around the town with the wedding approaching. They wanted me near just in case.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re coming back.” And then I realize how that sounded and add, “I mean, for Amelia’s sake.”

He grins softly and my stomach swoops.

I swallow thickly. “And nice you’ll get to be so close to your girlfriend for a while,” I say, trying to distract him from accidentally admitting I’m glad he’ll be around town again. Around me again.

He looks over his shoulder briefly and back. “Gretchen isn’t my girlfriend—just a date.”

But he said he’s staying the night with her…

Oh! Right! They’re just hooking up. Cool, cool, cool. Totally cool and normal and the thought of Will taking off all his clothes doesn’t at all make my skin burn hot and weird and tingly.

“So are you here alone?” he asks, eyes sweeping over me and then the table and empty chair.

In the next moment, John steps back to the table. Before he opens his mouth, I speak for him, “Well, I was on a date. But I think John is about to leave because he has an emergency.” I look up into John’s wide eyes. He thinks I’m a psychic now. “Is your house on fire? Grandma’s in the hospital? Or does your roommate have a flat tire?” I ask cheerfully.

He hesitates a second. “Uh—the flat tire one.”

So much for that Oscar. Under Will’s suddenly dark stare, John’s acting skills are deflating along with his courage.

“Hate when that happens,” I say kindly as the waitress brings our check and my to-go brownie. She sets it down with a double take at Will. She’s momentarily shocked by his handsomeness. Get in line, ma’am.

“Well, John, good luck helping your friend. Drive safe!” I reach into my purse for my wallet to pay for my drink and dessert before I leave—more than eager to get out of here and put this date behind me.

John shifts on his feet, and taps his keys on the side of his leg. “Yeah. Thanks for understanding.”

“No problem.” I wave him off while still digging in my purse.

I look up when I hear a throat clear and see Will’s shoulder pressing lightly against John’s chest, keeping him from walking away like he was apparently attempting. Will’s head hitches toward the table in some unspoken Man Language, and then John whips his hand into his back pocket, pulls out his wallet, and tosses a fifty on the table. “Uh—I’ll catch the bill since I’m the one having to bail.”

“But I spilled—”

“It’s fine. Have a good night, Annie.” And then John is gone so fast there’s a smoking streak left on the carpet.

I sling my purse over my shoulder and stand. Will hasn’t moved yet, and I’ve never realized how tall the man is until right now. I come up to his shoulder. But that isn’t necessarily hard to do when you’re only five foot three inches.

“You okay?” Will asks with pinched brows.

I smile. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because that jackass seemingly just made up an excuse to bail?”

“Oh. Yeah. He definitely did.”

Will eyes me closely for signs of distress. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

I think about it and then answer honestly. “A little, but not much. We were both having a terrible time. I wouldn’t want him to stick around if he was miserable.” I shrug. “Hopefully he’ll recover his night now.”

Will laughs a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re serious?”

“Should I not be?”

He smiles and again it shoots down into the pit of my stomach. Geez, what would it be like to date a man like him? All charisma and confidence. I would definitely embarrass myself.

“I think maybe you’re too nice?” He says it like a question.

“My sisters would agree with you, but one peek inside my head during traffic…” I whistle lightly and let the implied villainy dangle.

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