As I held the door open for her, a blonde exited a black cab. My gaze stuck to her ass, then swept up her body to the face peeking from behind long, ropy curls. She glided toward the entrance of the pub, the door of which I was still holding open. “Thank you,” she said softly, probably imagining I was being a gentleman and holding it for her. My fathers had hammered good manners into me, but that wasn’t the reason I was acting like an inanimate doorstop. I wasn’t actually certain why I was acting like one. “Adam, come on,” Emmy whined. The blonde glanced over her shoulder as she shrugged out
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