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She squeals. “Perfect. Then I can introduce you to everyone.”

Oh god, no. That’s worse. “I’ll find a date,” I say, cutting her plans off at the knees.

“Someone who doesn’t keep a list of women he’s scammed,” she says, oblivious to the irony.

“Yes, Mom,” I say as I pass a place called The Happiest Hours. It boasts a large window in the front. Through it, I catch a glimpse of a group of guys inside at a table in the corner. I can’t see all of them, but one of them isfiiiiiinefrom this angle.

I can just spy his profile, but he looks kind of familiar. Dark hair. Dark stubble. Dark eyes. Crinkles at the corner. Yum. Oh, and ink all over one arm.

Hello, wet panties.

I’m just saying.

Except, I’m sure he’s trouble. Tempting. But trouble.

Must. Look. Away. After all, Mom wasjusttalking about my preference for bad boys.

I activate all my powers of resistance and stop staring. Gigi and I leave him in the dust, turning toward our home. A few blocks later, I’m back at 583, where another hottie waits on my porch.

“At last, she’s here,” my friend Maddox calls out, and I rush and jump into his sturdy arms while Gigi barks enthusiastically at his feet.

Maddox is as strong as a tree, so he doesn’t wobble, just laughs lightly. “Well, that’s a helluva greeting,” he says.

I drop to my flip-flopped feet and drink in my friend. In his aviator shades, tailored burgundy button-down, and pressed slacks, he looks every bit like the best sports attorney-slash-agent in the biz. We hit it off at an industry party years ago. The next week, we started training for a marathon together, and he’s been my rock ever since.

“You’re a godsend for finding me this rental. It’s perfect. And I can’t believe you got me a scooter too.” I flap my arm toward the garage where I found his housewarming gift earlier.

“Glad you like it,” he says.

“I love the scooter, and Gigi and I love this cottage, and to thank you, I want to take you out to dinner.”

He gives a tender smile, the kind that I bet melts all the guys. “That sounds great, except that I’m takingyouto dinner. Isn’t that right, Gigi? I’m going to take your person out.” He bends and scratches Gigi between the ears. She lifts her chin approvingly.

“But I want to treat.” I pout. “You treated me to lunch when I was here a couple of weeks ago.”

“And yet, it’s still my turn.” He straightens and crosses his arms, challenging me.

Damn him. He’s stoic, and I know he’d wait all night and never break. I poke his firm biceps. “No wonder you’re the toughest negotiator,” I say.

“Your words…” he says, his smile teasing again.

“You know it’s true.” I let my girl inside and give her a quick kiss. “Back soon, lovie.”

As we walk to dinner, I link my arm through my friend’s. “Maddox, do you think I like bad boys?”

He scoffs.Knowingly.

“So, that’s a yes?”

“You know you do, Ellie,” he says, friendly but firm.

Maybe I do need to find that good-guy box on Boyfriend Material after all.

TUESDAY

A Day for the Naughty List

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Tags: Lauren Blakely Romance