A Groom of One's Own (Appies, #3)

by Emma St. Clair

“Brenda and Kellie,” Alec says. “Like the original 90210.” The women stare blankly, and I shake my head. Alec sets his phone on the table for the first time since we got to Mulligans. “Beverly Hills, 90210? Am I the only one who streams nineties TV shows? Never mind. I’m getting a beer.” Which leaves me shifting uncomfortably as I try to decide how to politely extricate myself as the women press closer, making me the middle of an unwanted Eli sandwich. “Eli?” Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t let that be⁠— I glance up and wish I had done more to extricate myself from the women on either side of me. Where’s a TARDIS when you need one? Because a few feet away, Bailey stares. A baby deer, wide-eyed and blinking in undisguised shock. Her eyes dart from my face to the women petting me like a zoo animal. I don’t miss the way her expression falls. Her surprise morphs into disappointment. Not that I can blame her. This looks … bad. I’m a caricature of a professional athlete. The kind of man who treats relationships—and women—like paper plates. Though it’s a stereotype for a reason, there are also plenty of athletes who don’t fall into that category. Me being one. I’ve dated, but always with a more serious intent in mind. Never casually. Always hoping I’ve found someone who could be more. Except, that’s not how this looks. It’s not how I look. Two women rather than just one? No biggie—just a typical night at the bar! And it matters to me. Deeply. “Hey, Bailey. I, uh … ” There’s nothing...