Flirting With Forever (Dirty Martini Running Club, #4)

by Claire Kingsley

Marriage wasn’t for me, thank you very much, but a woman didn’t have to get married to take her life in a new direction. A more adult direction. So I’d bought a house.

“The thing about friendships, and boys for that matter, is that you never want to settle. Having acquaintances or people you can have fun with is fine, but you want to be careful about who you let into your circle of trust.” “So, you mean it’s better to have no friends than bad friends?” I tilted my head, thinking about that for a moment. “Yes. Bad friends aren’t really friends, are they?” “No, I guess not.” “And you never want to compromise who you are so other people will like you.”

I’d given up a lot since becoming a father but red crocs were where I drew the line.

That rough, tattooed man could probably destroy my body in a hundred different ways. And by the way he was looking at me, he was thinking about it.

“How do you know she’s nice? You just said you didn’t talk to her.” “She waved and it was a very nice wave.”

I lifted my glass and they all followed. “A toast. To Dex St. James and the power of flirtation. May living next to me be sweet, sweet torture.”

Of course, once she turned, I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass. I’m only human. She paused, glancing over her shoulder, an amused smile crossing her lips. Busted. With an annoyed growl, I stomped my way back inside. That woman was going to be the death of me.

Riley laughed as she jumped in the bounce house with her cousins. It was music to my ears. The sound of one of my nephews puking in the bushes, not so much.

“Can I be honest about something?” he asked. “Of course.” He moved in closer. “You’re kind of killing me tonight.” “Am I?” I asked, my voice full of mock innocence. “I thought you weren’t interested.” “Yeah, we both know that’s not true.”

He started toward the door but paused, turning toward me. He touched my face and placed a soft kiss on my lips. Somehow, being fucked against the wall wasn’t nearly as intimate as that sweet kiss.

I was Nora Lakes. Men didn’t scare me. Except I might have found one who did.

“Big romantic gestures are overrated. Too easy to fake. Mess up my hair and ruin my lipstick instead.”