His brow furrowed as he patted his coat pockets, presumably looking for his keys. “They’re in your pants pocket,” I said. I’d seen him slip them into that pocket before we left his office. He located them and gave me a sheepish grin. “Thanks. I lose my keys a lot.” Why was he so cute? I didn’t understand why his absent-mindedness was so appealing. The men I’d dated in the past, including my ex-husband, had generally been organized and meticulous. No un-tucked shirts, missed buttons, or disheveled hair. I couldn’t remember any of them losing something as important as their car keys. Before
...more
