“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” she said.

He took them off and, with a puzzled expression, inspected them. “Who put those there?”

She laughed.

He set the horn-rims on the table next to his laptop. “What’s Jasper up to this morning?”

“He went to our country club.”

“He’s a golfer?”

“No. The club has an Olympic-size pool. He swims laps. A serious number of laps.”

“Every day?”

“Unless it’s lightning and they close the pool.”

“Huh. That explains his well-defined traps. You swim, too?”

“No.”

He snapped his fingers. “Your aversion to sun exposure and water.”

“Right. I can stay afloat, but I don’t really get anywhere.”

“So what do you do for exercise?”

“Spin class. Stationary bike.”

“Ah. That explains your well-defined…” He stopped, looked away from her, tipped his head down and scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. Then said, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure.” She said it brightly, maybe a bit too brightly, because she was wondering what of hers he found well-defined and why he’d changed his mind about telling her.

The kitchen was open to the rest of the room, demarcated only by a rectangle of vinyl flooring. The handle on the refrigerator door was loose and rattled when he pulled on it. “Water, Diet Coke, beer.”

“What are you having?”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Wanna play hooky and have a beer?”

She raised her eyebrows in a yes.

He uncapped two bottles and brought them over. They clinked bottles before drinking. The beer went down cold and bitter. “Playing hooky is fun.”

He studied her for a second, then snuffled.

“What?”

“Be truthful now,” he said. “You’ve never played hooky a day in your life.”

She ducked her head. “My parents had great expectations.”

“You sought their approval.”

“Yes, but I was stricter on myself than they were on me.”

“No naughtiness? Not ever?”

“Not often.”

“Hmm. I see potential here. Stick around,” he drawled. “I can corrupt you in no time at all.”

“Jasper said you’d be ballsy enough to try.”

“He said I’m ballsy?”

“He did.”

“Remind me to thank him.”

He saluted her with his beer bottle, and she saluted him back, then walked over to the table. She set her index finger on the blank top sheet of a stack of paper that had seen wear and tear. “Your manuscript?”

“Or a pile of manure. Hard to differentiate.”

“I doubt it’s that bad.”

“Trust me.”

“Is this your only copy?”

“Only hard copy. I back up each day’s work on two thumb drives.”

She ran her finger up the curled corners of the sheets. “I don’t suppose you’d let me take a peek.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll give you an honest assessment.”

“I already have an honest assessment. Mine. It sucks.”

“Then a second opinion could be beneficial.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

Jasper was patently suspicious of Drex. Her reservations weren’t that steep, but she admitted to being intrigued by his reticence. Reading his book, even though it was fiction, could provide insight into the man behind the disarming dimple. But even as she had asked to read it, she’d known with near certainty that he would refuse. She didn’t try to persuade him. Rather, she said, “I Googled you this morning.”

His brow arched eloquently. “I’ve fantasized being Googled by a beautiful woman.”

Without acknowledging either the compliment or the innuendo, she set her bottle of beer on the table and crossed her arms over her middle. “Another joke, another deflection. Aren’t you going to ask me why I plundered the Internet in search of information on you?”

“I’m not that vain.” Then he seemed to reconsider. “Well, I guess I am. What about me sent you plundering?”

“Is Drex Easton a nom de plume or your real name?”

He formed a slow grin. “You didn’t find anything, did you?”

She didn’t admit it, but her silence confirmed his guess, and his grin widened.

“I told you last night, Talia. Even I’m bored with me.”

“Is it your real name?”

“Yes. Given to me by my dad.”

She hesitated, then asked softly, “What happened to your mother?”

“I haven’t the faintest.”

She flinched. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. It’s the God’s truth, and that’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

“Why the secrecy?”

He set down his beer bottle hard enough to make a thump against the tabletop. “What difference does my past make to you? Or, for that matter, my present and future?”

“Because of Elaine.”

Chapter 10

Drex seemed taken aback by her answer, which wasn’t the whole truth, but it had moved them off the track that she’d been following—his past. It was the one subject that made him restive and annoyed.

Now, his forehead wrinkled with perplexity. “Elaine? Am I missing something?”

“Jasper told me you planned to invite her to dinner.”

He raised his shoulders in a silent So?

“I’m not sure…That is, I hope…” She stopped, pushed her fingers through her hair, and said, “I’m botching this.”

He placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head slightly. An attitude of impatient waiting.

She took a deep breath. “In the time I’ve known Elaine, she’s had a string of romantic disappointments. A man expresses interest, she tends to become infatuated very quickly and then falls hard, only to discover that he was less attracted to her than to her—”

He held up a hand. “I get it. You want to protect her from a man like me who has no visible means of support and is looking for a rich…” In search of an appropriate word, he twirled his hand. “Patroness?”

“I’ve insulted you.”

“No shit.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Drex. It’s just that Jasper and I have become very fond of Elaine. Because she’s innately affectionate and generous, she sets herself up to be taken advantage of. We don’t want to see her hurt.”

“By a snake like me.”

She blew out a breath. “Insulted and angered.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interfered.” She turned to go, but he hooked his hand in the bend of her elbow and gently brought her back around.

“Look, taking Elaine to dinner seems like an appropriate way to thank her for her hospitality on Sunday. That’s my only agenda. Okay?”

She looked up at him with chagrin. “Now I feel small.”