Page 26 of Love Expert

“Of course.” Alana leaps up from her seat and struts along the long row of tables, dragging her fingertips over the back of Tommy’s neck as she passes, then coming to a stop beside Maggie and Fox. Teasingly, she dips her hand into the bowl and plays with the crowd a little longer.

She builds tension, dragging the moment out long enough to tempt me to toss a beer bottle at her head, then she selects her slip of paper with anah-huhand offers it back to Maggie. “That one felt good. Felt lucky.”

Maggie does a little tappy-toe wiggle, bouncing her brows andunfolding the paper. She reads its stamped numbers, pausing for a loaded beat, then she brings the mic back to her lips and exhales a breathy, annoyingly sexy “one-zero-seven-three.” Casting her eyes over the crowd, she grins and repeats, “one-zero-seven-three. Check your tickets, gentlemen. I’d like our winner to stand up.”

Grumbles erupt throughout the room as dudes frantically try to remember how to read numbers. Some grunt, and others harrumph. Dozens of ‘not me’ ring through the air, and Eliza climbs over Chris’ table, snatching his ticket up and checking the numbers just in case.

Not him.

“No one?” Fox asks incredulously. “Detective Deveraux is our only male guest who snuck out early. If he’s our winner, things are gonna get awfully awkward tomorrow when Maggie knocks on his front door.”

“Is it you?” Dara leans heavily onto the table, staring through half-closed eyes. “Where’s your ticket?”

“It’s not me.” And these people have three more minutes to wrap this shit up before I’m out the door and climbing into my bed at home.

“Seriously, no one?” Alana grumbles. “Tommy? Honey? Is it you? I won’t be mad.”

“It’s not me!” he laughs, showing his ticket for anyone who cares to look close enough. “I already found my perfect match, baby.”

“Billy didn’t check his ticket yet,” Dara announces drunkenly, sucking on her bottom lip and smiling like the alcohol is really doing good things for her brain. “He didn’t even look.”

“Stand up.” Troopy stalks across the room. “Now.”

“Get away from me,” I scoff. “I’m too tired for your shit.”

“So stand up!” He grabs my arm and yanks me to my feet, then he lifts his free hand and wiggles his fingers. “I’m gonna go on a deep dive inside your pocket, Detective. If I touch your dick, I’m gonna be real mad.”

“So don’t put your hand in my pocket. Fuck!” I snatch the stupid ticket out and unfold the scrunched paper. “See? One-zero-seven-three.”

“That’s the number, dickhead!” He snatches it from my fingers, tearing the damn thing clean in half so we have a portion each. “He’s got it.”

“No! It’s…” My stomach performs a whole fucking somersault while my brain desperately searches for an out. “You were looking for sixty-somethin’.”

“He’s got the one-zero, I’ve got the seven-three.” He claps my back and shoves me forward half a dozen steps. “Got your winner, Ms. Sava. But you’re gonna have to hold on real tight. He’s likely to bolt at the first chance.”

“You?” Like the world tastes of lemons, Maggie sets her mic down and meets us halfway along the green mile. She accepts Troop’s half-a-ticket and glares at me for the rest.

Fuck.

Groaning, I offer her the other half and look anywhere but into her sinful eyes. “Do a re-draw or something. I have no interest in winning a Magnolia Sava anything.” I bring my eyes down and freeze her with a frosty smile. “Not even the five-thousand-dollar kind.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she sneers.

“I…” I choke out a laugh. “Yeah, I do! Ichoosenot to participate.Bada-bing, look at that. I’ve chosen.”

“Did you miss the part where I mentioned a one-hundred percent success rate?” She scrunches the paper-halves and glowers. “Either stick around for another twenty minutes so I can get started and jot down a few notes, or you can go home and I’ll knock on your door tomorrow.”

“Detective Caster can’t stick around.” Dara stumbles into our space and drapes her arms around my chest. Laying her cheek on the ball of my shoulder, she sways drunkenly. “He’s taking me home tonight.”

Maggie’s eyes widen. Her throat bobs, and her cheeks burn bright red. But her lips… fuck, her lips curl into a fake-ass smile. “I’m thrilled to see a potential love connection in the making.” She tips her head forward. “Enjoy your evening, Detective. I’ll drop by tomorrow sometime so we can discuss steps going forward.”

And with that, she turns on her heels and makes her way back to her podium.

ROUND TWELVE

MAGGIE

Stop being a pussy, Magnolia.