Kapcsolódó kiadói sorozatok: Rubin pöttyös könyvek Könyvmolyképző
“Oh, I knew.” He lifted one eyebrow, and oh my gawd, he looked really good doing that. Not fair. “You think a drink bought for a guy would be a white chocolate mocha espresso? Really?”
I sniffed. “Hey, I thought you said you liked it.”
“I did. It was way too sweet though. Like girly sweet.” His smile grew seductive as he added, “Must be your lucky day. I just so happen to like it extra sweet.”
Holy guacamole. Was that a double entendre? I swear that was a double entendre. Someone hold my panties on for me because Mason Lowe was freaking flirting with me, using double entendres. Shaking my head, I muttered, “You are so…”
He grinned. “Charming? Handsome? Intriguing?”
All three, not that I’d ever admit it to him. He appeared to have a big enough ego as it was. I scowled hard.
“I was going to say confusing.”
“Really?” I arched an eyebrow and set my hands on my hips. “Just how much do you cost, Mr. Ego?”
Leaning in close, he whispered an amount in my ear. My mouth dropped open. “Okay, yeah. I couldn’t afford that. But…wow, I don’t know.” I flailed my hand. “Don’t you have a payment plan or something? Reduced prices for the lower income?”
I wanted to drop the tainted, illegally gained funds. But holy guacamole. I was standing in the doorway of a steamy bathroom, staring at an honest-to-God gigolo who was wet and naked and covered by nothing but a bath towel. This was so going in the Christmas letter I was going to write to all my girlfriends.