“Hmmm.” She tapped her chin and stared at the bottles behind the bar while I watched her. “I’ll take a Bellini.”

I couldn’t stop my face from contorting. “A what?”

“A Bellini.”

“A Bellini…” I stammered as I spoke to the bartender. He nodded, and I was happy as hell that he knew what the hell it was, because I’d sure as fuck never heard of it. “And a beer for me, please.”

“Sure thing,” the man in the pink tuxedo said before he reached into the cooler and grabbed my drink.

“So, Georgia…” I rested one arm against the bar, thinking I looked calm, but inside I was anything but. “Do you work with Sunshine?”

Great, I already sounded like a douchebag.

“Sunshine?” She looked at me confused with the cutest tiny crinkles in her forehead. Actually there wasn’t a wrinkle on her face. Not one. Nothing even around her eyes when her face softened.

“Sorry,” I said. I needed to remember that only the guys at the Cowboy called her that. “Suzy.”

“Yeah,” she replied. She took the champagne flute off the bar and studied the liquid before turning her attention to me. “I just started working with her this year.”

“Are you a teacher?”

She grinned against the rim of her glass. “No.”

Just as I was about to take a sip, I paused with the glass in front of my lips. “I was going to say. Teachers have changed since I was a kid.”

As I gulped down the beer, she said, “Yeah. I’m a librarian.”

I choked, almost spitting all over the bar. “A librarian?” My eyes widened.

When the fuck did librarians become hot?

Georgia did not look like the woman who used to read me Charlotte’s Web when I was in school. I always thought of librarians as old ladies with gray hair and business suits.

That didn’t describe Georgia. She had on a hot little sundress, classic fifties style with a V-neckline, and shoes with skulls. Her cleavage wasn’t enormous, but her tits were enough to fit in my hands. Her long black hair and thick black eyeliner didn’t fit the bookworm type.

“You’re shitting me?” I tried not to eye-fuck her over my beer bottle.

She shook her head, blushing while she sipped her Bellini. “Nope. I’m a total nerd,” she admitted and looked away.

“The last thing I’d call you is a nerd.” Where in the hell had this girl come from, and why had Sunshine been holding out on me? “Want to sit down?” I asked, glancing at her shoes and noticing her heels had to easily be five inches.

She sighed and shifted on her feet. “I’d love to. My feet are killing me in this heat.”

We stole glances at each other as we walked toward an empty table.

She sat and crossed her ankles, holding the champagne glass in her lap. “So what do you do, Frisco?”

I turned my chair to face her, wanting to be closer. “I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

“It can be.”

She fidgeted with the glass, turning it between her fingers. “My dad’s a retired police officer, which can be scary sometimes.”

I should’ve run away as soon as she mentioned her father being a retired cop.

I definitely wasn’t her type.

I wasn’t a criminal, never had been and never would be, but the people I associated with weren’t always cop-loving folks. “Being a PI isn’t scary. It’s mostly boring work and stakeouts to grab photos of cheating spouses or tracking down someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

“Suzy speaks very highly of you,” she said as she continued to fidget with her glass.

My back stiffened. “She does?”

Georgia’s bright white teeth gleamed against her cherry-red lipstick when she spoke. “Yep. She said you’re one of the good ones.”

My face heated. “I don’t know about that.”

“May I?” she asked as she hovered her hand above my arm.

“Yes.” I nodded, staring at her hand when it touched my skin.

Her fingertips slowly traced the ink on my forearm, following the lines. “This is amazing stuff. Where did you get it done?”

The feel of her against my skin was something I couldn’t describe, and my stomach did this odd flip-flop thing that threw me for a loop.

“Some of it at Inked and a few at Cherry Bomb.”

“Me too,” she said, her eyes flickering up at me.

“How old are you?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question.

I knew it was wrong.

A woman should never be asked her age, but I couldn’t help myself. She didn’t have the small lines near her eyes. I’d had them since I was twenty-five, and now that I was creeping up on thirty-one, they were almost caverns.

“Twenty-two.”

Fuck.

She was way too young for me. I shouldn’t even be talking to her. What the fuck was Sunshine thinking trying to hook us up?

My leg began to bounce uncontrollably. “Can you excuse me for a moment?” I asked.

“Surrre,” she drawled, pulling her hand away from my arm but keeping her eyes on me.

I set my beer down on the table and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

“’Kay,” she mumbled, frowning behind her Bellini.

I marched straight for Sunshine, needing her to explain her thinking. A twenty-two-year-old was a baby. Georgia had her entire life ahead of her, and I was used, older, and broken.

“Sunshine,” I whispered, and tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I speak to you?”

She turned around, giving me her full attention. “Don’t you just love Georgia?” she asked and bounced from foot to foot, her blond hair swaying.

“She’s a nice girl, babe. But that’s just it. She’s still a girl.” I blinked rapidly, trying to stop a weird twitch that had started in the corner of my eye.

She poked me square in the chest with her bony little finger and stood on her tiptoes. “Don’t call her that. She’s a grown woman, Frisco.”

Running my fingers through my hair, I groaned. “She’s twenty-two, for Christ’s sake.”

“Oh, shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s legal. I wouldn’t have introduced you if you two weren’t perfect for each other. So just go over there and be the man I know you are.”

“What, a cradle robber?”

“A man who needs a loyal woman,” she shot back before slapping me on the arm.

“Fuck,” I muttered and rubbed the spot her hand had just hit. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

She waved her hand in front of my face. “Neither was City when I met him, but here we are.”

“When shit goes bad, I’m blaming you.” I gritted my teeth and pointed at her with narrowed eyes.

“You’ll be thanking me.” She grabbed my sides and tried to turn my body around. “Go back over there before you look like a complete jerk.”

I cleared my throat. I had already made myself look like one when I walked away from Georgia. “I think I already fucked up.” I winced and glanced over my shoulder at her.

She sat in the same spot, sipping her drink and watching us. I waved, giving her a smile, and, much to my surprise, she reciprocated.

“Nah,” Suzy whispered and shook her head. “Go already.”

“Fine,” I muttered before I walked back toward the table. My eyes were glued to her. She looked like a vision, but a fucking young one. She’d be a perfect pinup model, and she came straight out of my wet dreams. “Sorry about that.” I took my seat, fidgeting with my shirt and averting my eyes.

She set her glass on the table and clasped her hands in her lap. “Everything okay?”

I nodded and dragged my eyes to her. “I just needed to tell Sunshine something.”

“Are you worried about my age?” she asked point-blank, and her gaze flickered toward me.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “A little. I’m not really in the frame of mind for a relationship here, Georgia. My head’s all fucked up.”

She grabbed my hand, taking it away from my face, and placed it in her lap. “I’m not looking to get married.”

“You’d be shit out of luck, babe.”

She patted my hand before leaning back in her chair. “Suzy thought we could become friends.”