“You’re him?” I whisper, shock still lingering in my words.

“I am. And I went to The Jane at seven.”

“I did too,” I blurt out, desperate for him to think I’m also bold and daring. “I mean, I went to Jane.”

A smile curves across his lips. “I figured as much later that night. I didn’t think for a second you’d stood me up.”

I scoff. This man. I give him a you-didn’t-just-say-that look. “Cocky much?”

“I am. But that’s not coming from the cocky part of me.”

“What part of you is it coming from, then?”

“No part of me at all. It comes from you.”

I wait for him to explain more.

6CHRISTIAN

My little mermaid has swum back into my waters. I have half a mind to toss her on my shoulder and walk out of here right now.

But, there’s the little issue of not being a caveman.

Unless she wants me to be one in bed, and we’re not there yet.

For now, the gentleman is up, and the caveman is standing down.

“And why does that come from me?”

“Because a woman that bold, a woman who took pictures, a woman who shouted bravo, is a woman who’s going to show.”

A smile crosses her pretty pink lips. “Of course I wasn’t going to back out.”

“Damn, I wish we’d gone to the same Jane.” Finally, I can enjoy a close-up view of the lovely lady who caught my interest, and the view is worth the wait. Her dark hair curls over her shoulders in thick waves. Her chocolate-brown eyes are warm and inviting, and her black glasses intrigue me. I’ve always loved a woman in glasses. While I haven’t been pining for her for the last year—honestly, that would make me a pathetic twit—I am ridiculously pleased that our friends are friends. “And I’d like to know who the hell thought it was a good idea to have two Janes.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’d like to find that person and give him a piece of my mind. I’d like to tell him I was most dissatisfied to learn of the mix-up.”

I inch closer. “And if we’d seen each other that night, you would have been . . . most satisfied.”

Her mouth widens—those lips are so damn enticing—and she points at me. “You are cocky.”

“But what if it’s true? Is it cocky then?”

“Since that night has passed, I’m not sure we’ll ever know,” she says coyly. It’s clear she likes the cat-and-mouse tease.

“Listen, little mermaid, I may never learn, but I intend to try. What do you say we make sure we don’t miss a second chance at a first date?”

“Are you asking me out when we’re already out?”

My eyes drift briefly to Joy and Griffin, tangled up together, whispering whatevers in each other’s ears. “Shockingly, our friends are amusing themselves without us. Let’s you and I have a night of it. Can I buy you a drink?”

“You may absolutely buy me one. In fact, I’m not even going to attempt to pay for a thing tonight, and I’m going to tell you right now that I’m not going home with you.”

I crack up. “That only makes me want to test the strength of your resolve.”

I set a hand on her back and guide her to the bar. The bartender signals he’ll be over in a minute, so I turn my focus to Elise again. “So, tell me, did you enjoy looking at your nude photos of me?”

She arches a brow. “So, tell me, do you regularly flash the tourists?”

“Ah, so this is how we play it.”

“Yes, this is how we play it. I want to know why you dropped your drawers. Is it a kink of yours?”

“Is it a kink of yours?”

“You don’t get to know my kinks until you answer some questions.”

“But you have kinks you’ll share?”

She moves in closer and whispers near my ear, “We all have kinks. The question is whether mine match yours and vice versa.”

A bolt of lust slams into me. She’s everything I imagined she’d be that night. And I’m more determined than ever to learn more about her.

The bartender arrives and asks what we’d like. Elise chooses absinthe and I do the same. When he leaves, I lean my hip against the silvery outdoor counter, free-standing in the midst of this midnight garden bar. “Just so you know, the canal game is something my mates and I do for fun. It’s high jinx, really. Nothing more. We do it for kicks.”

“Like a party trick with your friends?”

“We buy each other beers based on our success rates.”

“And is asking a woman out part of the point system?”

I shake my head. “I’ve never asked a woman out from the docks before.” I reach for a strand of her hair, running my finger over it. As soft as I imagined.

Her breath hitches, but she meets my eyes like a cross-examiner in court. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? You’re not a woman lacking in self-confidence.”

“But I am brimming with skepticism.”

I rake my eyes over her. “You’re brimming with everything I want to experience more of.”

She nibbles on the corner of her lip, then shakes her head, clearly amused. “You’re shameless in the way you stare at me.”

“Why should I feel shame?”

“You shouldn’t. I’m simply observing. You’re one of those men who doesn’t care if he stares, who isn’t afraid to look.”

“I like what I see. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But because I like it, I want to know what’s behind it. Even if you’re a skeptic.”