It didn’t take much to shock Zoe. She acted so innocent. You’d never know the darling had just had a secret affair with a younger man. He was only a few years younger, but it still counted. Harm had thrown even me for a loop this time, and I taught sensual massage for a living.

“I heard about that.” Morticia Smith’s dark eyes twinkled as she adjusted the knot of black silky hair at the nape of her neck.

That was about all you’d get from Morti without prodding. Growing up around a funeral home, she had always related better to the dead than the living. As her best friends, we were the exception. We knew the real her. The funny, sensitive, charming her.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” I held up a hand before they could say anything, because trust me, they were about to pounce on that lovely little faux pas. “Scratch that.” I winced. Usually, I had a way with words, but obviously not tonight. I tried again. “What I meant to say is, what exactly is the legend of the tattooed clover penis?”

Harmony shot Morticia a pleading, hopeful look. “Do you want to do the honors, or can I?”

“The floor’s all yours, Harm.” Morti sat back and took a drink of her diet cola and then folded her hands in her lap.

“Yes!” Harm made a fist and punched the air. Twice. “Listen up, babes, cuz this is good.” She leaned in. “Rumor has it, there’s a guy in town who has a tattoo.”

“A tattoo? So do you, doll. Several, in fact.” I arched one eyebrow high. “And that’s legend-worthy how?”

“I might have a couple tattoos, but not on my thingypoo.” Harm snorted and then frowned. “Not that I have a thingypoo.” She waved her hands. “Oh, hell, you get the point.”

“What on earth would possess someone to do that?” Zoe cringed and shook her head. “That has to be painful.”

“Wait, it gets better.” Morti’s mysterious and rare Mona Lisa smile played at the corners of her full lips.

“There’s more?” I laughed. “What could possibly be better than a man with a tattoo on his penis?”

Harm chuckled. “The tattoo is of a four-leaf clover.”

“I gathered as much,” I said, pointing out, “the legend has clover right in the name. How are clovers legendary?”

“Because not every clover has four leaves.” Morti held up a finger. “Tell them the rest of the legend, Harm.”

“Well, the story goes the guy has a tattoo of a clover on his penis, but you can only see the fourth leaf if you get lucky. Meaning, you make him grow hard, he sprouts a fourth leaf.” Harm burst out laughing. “Gotta admit that is legend-worthy.”

“Oh, good God,” Zoe croaked, fanning her face. “I don’t believe that. Who would do such a thing?”

“That’s the kicker.” Harmony glanced at Morticia. “You sure you don’t wanna tell them the rest, babe?”

Morti laughed. “Hell, you’re on a roll, sister, take it away.”

“The man with the clover is the one and only big strapping Irishman and local pub entrepreneur himself, Mr. Matthew McGinnis.” Harm sat back, looking way too pleased with her little ole’ self.

Meanwhile, I started to hyperventilate. I fanned my face and the firelight reflected off my rings, sending colors of the rainbow dancing across our table.

“Are you okay?” Concern puckered Zoe’s forehead.

“I’m fine. Hot flash.” I pulled at my neckline. It wasn’t a lie. A wave of heat had most definitely flashed through my every cell over that thought. I cleared my throat…twice. “M-Matt McGinnis you say?”

“In the flesh.” Harm grinned wide. “At least I wish he was in the flesh. I’d love to take a gander at that laddy boy’s shamrock.”

Matthew McGinnis had moved to small town Mayflower, Massachusetts, to take over his uncle’s Irish pub, and we’d been flirting ever since. He kept stopping by my massage parlor, but we always seemed to miss each other. In fact, it had been a while since I’d even seen him before tonight. The last time being at this very table when I’d celebrated the fifth anniversary of my divorce over a month ago.

A sobering thought settled into my brain. Maybe he’d lost interest. Shoving that thought to the back of my mind, I refused to believe I’d lost my touch. Maybe it was time I renewed my acquaintance with Mr. McShamrock.

“Wow, who would have thought a man like Matt would get a tattoo of any kind, let alone one there?” Zoe studied the blond giant behind the bar. “He seems so conservative, and, well…normal.”

“Hey, I have tattoos. Are you saying I’m not normal?” Harm arched her auburn brows as she leaned back in her chair.

“Of course you’re normal.” I patted her hand. “Tattoos are great, doll, but I’m with Zoe. Matthew McGinnis does not seem like the kind of person who would get one like that and especially there.”

Harmony eyed the hulk of a man as he smiled wide, his dimples sinking deep, and his animated conversation captivating everyone around him. “He looks big enough to sprout a fourth leaf to me.”

“That he does.” Morticia’s gaze followed Harmony’s, and I knew full well they were mentally devouring the massive shoulders, broad chest, and impressive bulge even I couldn’t take my eyes off. “He’s gonna make some woman very happy if she gets lucky enough to see that fourth leaf.”

“I was born lucky,” I heard myself say.

Three pairs of eyes whipped back around to lock on me. I laughed, feigning confidence, when I felt anything but. What was wrong with me? I was never this insecure.

“Do I detect a bet?” Harm asked.

Leave it to Harmony to jump on what I’d said and hold me to it. “Depends on the wager,” I answered, studying my manicure as though I didn’t have a care in the world.

“I got twenty bucks that says you can’t put that rumor to bed.” Harm’s grin stretched so wide she looked like the star in a toothpaste commercial, filling me with an urge to grab a yellow sharpie and color her teeth.

“Surely you jest.” I scoffed. “I simply meant I could get him to ask me out, not that I would sleep with him.”

“I didn’t say you had to sleep with him, but if you do, lucky you. I just want proof of the infamous clover. But, hey, if you can’t handle the bet, then⁠—”

“I can handle it just fine…literally.” I matched her grin with a tilt of my chin and a raise of my brow. “But for what you’re asking me to do, you’d better make it fifty.”

“Deal. You’ve got twenty-four hours to prove if the tattoo exists or not.” Harm slapped her hand on the table. “Anyone else in?”

“What the hell, I’ll match her fifty.” Morti tapped her fist twice on the table. “Curiosity killed the cat, and all.” She shrugged.

“Well, since you did bet on me several times not very long ago, I’m in too.” Zoe winced. “Sorry, Tiff, what’s fair is fair.”

“It’s really no big deal, ladies. I just have to get Matt to ask me out and then prove the tattoo exists or doesn’t exist. Piece of cake.” Or at least it would have been a piece of cake before I’d lost my confidence.

Damn birthdays.

I stood and smoothed my hands down the front of my favorite periwinkle blue, strapless, silk dress in the same shade as my eyes. Fingering the diamond at my neck, I stared at Matt. Curly hair, chiseled features, and a booming laugh that made me smile every time I heard it. Renewed confidence filled me. Some simple flirting, a little conversation, and I’d have my answer, not to mention a lovely little boost to my ego.

How hard could it be?

So not going there…at least not yet.

“Ladies, I’ll be right back with another round.” I flipped my long blonde waves over my shoulder and focused on Matt, putting an extra swing in my step as I made my way over to the bar, ignoring the giggles behind me. I could do this. I had to, for a much-needed confidence boost.

I sidled up to the bar, untied the silk scarf around my neck, and let it drape over my shoulders. Resting my forearms on the slick, granite countertop, I leaned in just enough for the kill.

Only the kill never came.