Page 67 of The Trope

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space, but it was impossible to ignore him sitting across from her. Luke still

had his grin fixed in place. Something about his amiable smile had her feeling

like a cornered cat. Spitting mad and ready to strike. That was probably a sign

that she was…

“Prickly, aren’t you?” Luke said as he took a sip of his drink. Jenna was sure it was black coffee overflowing with caffeine.

Jenna stiffened. She wasn’t prickly. She was careful. She was on a blind date with a complete stranger. A stranger that her best friend had led her to believe was a woman. Luke, with his laughing eyes, and strong hands, and fun-poking, was very, very male. And Jenna was barely on the market for a relationship. She was decidedly off the market for a relationship with a man.

“It’s okay, you know,” Luke said, despite the table in front of him. He cradled his drink in his lap, carefully held between his two strong hands.

Jenna frowned.

“To be nervous on a date. Frankie didn’t tell me much about you, just your name and that you’d probably be wearing black, so we’re basically strangers, but I’m game to give this a shot if you are.”

Jenna stopped her fingers from tapping on the table and forced her eyes to meet Luke’s green ones.

“That’s all Clem told you?”She didn’t mention that I said I was done with men?

“Clem? No, Frankie set this up. She said your name was Jen, and you dressed like the Grim Reaper.”

Frankie was a pain in the ass. Jenna felt her blood actually boil. There was no way Clem’s fiancee called her Jen, but the Grim Reaper? Black was classic. Black didn’t show stains. Black went with every outfit. Black was the perfect color for a photographer who was used to staying out of the limelight. And her boots were Sam Edelman, dammit.

“At least I put on something stain-free.” Jenna stared pointedly at a brown stain on the front pocket of Luke’s sweatshirt.

He shrugged, his shoulders rolling one after the other, just a hair out of sync. “Touché.”

Jenna sipped her tea and studied Luke across the table. Even the messy clothes couldn’t detract from the fact that he was a gorgeous man. A strong square jaw covered in light stubble couldn’t hide his dimple or the slight cleft in his chin. His hair was longer than most of the men Jenna spent time with, falling in soft waves around his head. The color moved from a dark blonde at the roots to a naturally gold highlight at the edges. Jenna knew that color came from good-old-fashioned work under the sun, not a salon. His straight nose ended above a set of full lips, the kinds that people paid a lot of money for. Small lines bracketed the sides of his grinning mouth because this man clearly spent most of his time smiling. Jenna spent most of her time not smiling.…


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Tags: Stella Stevenson Romance