maiden cousin, twice removed—all women who sniffed you out till you ignored them to death—”
Sean halted and turned. He folded his arms with a tight smile. “So, what’s your point?”
Pete grinned and dropped the bag to the sidewalk with a grunt. “My point is, you may say you’re a confirmed bachelor, but nothing’s more irresistible to unmarried females than a nice single guy who plays hard to get.”
A noisy exhale puffed from Sean’s lips and he shook his head, smiling despite himself. “You’re really something, you know that, Pete? I am not playing hard to get—I am hard to get, period. I’m a nice guy who has no intention whatsoever of getting involved with a woman.” He flicked a clod of dirt off Pete’s shoulder. “Because unlike you and the guys, my friend, I’m strong enough to resist.”
“Nope. ‘Strong’ is what me, Harv, and Adam are—guys who have no intention of tying the knot while we revel in the wealth of women who cross our paths. That takes true dedication to avoid being snared. You? You’re nothing but a chicken who avoids women like the plague, and all because you’re scared spitless one of ’em’s gonna rein you in.” Pete paused to hike the bag over his shoulder, halting Sean with a cocky grin and a hand to his arm. “Now you tell me—who’s ‘stronger’ and has more guts?” He jiggled his brows. “Not to mention fun?”
Sean started walking again, and Pete strode alongside. “Face it, Sean, you’re a good-looking guy, but what a waste. If me and the guys had as many gals after us as you do, we’d be in bachelor heaven. But you—you’re so busy avoiding ’em, you miss out on the best part of being single—the affections of women.”
Sean shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled, stomach rumbling at the smell of grilled burgers at the pub they just passed. “I enjoy my life just fine, Murph.”
Pete gave him a sideways glance. “Yeah? When’s the last time you really kissed a gal?”
Heat steamed his cheeks as he picked up the pace. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Plenty. I tell ya, you’re missing out, O’Connor, and I for one think you’re crazy. Why don’t you just be a man about it and get out there and mingle a little?” He eyed him with a taunting grin. “Who knows? It might help avoid another nasty mood like this afternoon. Or are you afraid some sweet little thing is gonna pitch a fast one that’ll leave you tied to home plate?”
Challenge rose up in Sean as they passed Tucker’s Bakery, as palpable as the smell of fresh bread that watered his mouth. “A woman hasn’t been born who can tie me to home plate, Murph.”
Pete laughed and slapped him on the back, then shifted the bag to his other shoulder with another grunt. “Oh, she’s been born, my friend, and you can bet on that.” He cocked his head. “If you’re brave enough to get in the game, that is.” He hesitated, his grin raising the bar. “Unless you’re afraid of losing? You know, a knuckle ball that throws you a curve? I’ll bet you wouldn’t even see it coming.”
A wide grin slid across Sean’s face as he wrested the bag from Pete’s shoulder and tossed it over his own. “Oh, I’d see it coming, all right, and I’ll knock it out of the park, make no mistake. And you and the boys can set your watches by that.”
Pete laughed. “Maybe.” He slapped Sean on the shoulder as they parted ways at the corner. “If some little gal doesn’t fix your clock first. Either way,” he said with a grin that was more of a dare, “gotta feeling that one of these days soon, you’re gonna run out of time.”
Home, sweet home. Emma turned the key in the lock and eased her apartment door open, quite certain she had never been this tired. Between a grueling week at work, evenings helping Marcy and her girls prepare for the wedding, and a wonderfully full but exhausting day, Emma was spent. She closed the door and flipped the bolt, slipping her
Sean halted and turned. He folded his arms with a tight smile. “So, what’s your point?”
Pete grinned and dropped the bag to the sidewalk with a grunt. “My point is, you may say you’re a confirmed bachelor, but nothing’s more irresistible to unmarried females than a nice single guy who plays hard to get.”
A noisy exhale puffed from Sean’s lips and he shook his head, smiling despite himself. “You’re really something, you know that, Pete? I am not playing hard to get—I am hard to get, period. I’m a nice guy who has no intention whatsoever of getting involved with a woman.” He flicked a clod of dirt off Pete’s shoulder. “Because unlike you and the guys, my friend, I’m strong enough to resist.”
“Nope. ‘Strong’ is what me, Harv, and Adam are—guys who have no intention of tying the knot while we revel in the wealth of women who cross our paths. That takes true dedication to avoid being snared. You? You’re nothing but a chicken who avoids women like the plague, and all because you’re scared spitless one of ’em’s gonna rein you in.” Pete paused to hike the bag over his shoulder, halting Sean with a cocky grin and a hand to his arm. “Now you tell me—who’s ‘stronger’ and has more guts?” He jiggled his brows. “Not to mention fun?”
Sean started walking again, and Pete strode alongside. “Face it, Sean, you’re a good-looking guy, but what a waste. If me and the guys had as many gals after us as you do, we’d be in bachelor heaven. But you—you’re so busy avoiding ’em, you miss out on the best part of being single—the affections of women.”
Sean shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled, stomach rumbling at the smell of grilled burgers at the pub they just passed. “I enjoy my life just fine, Murph.”
Pete gave him a sideways glance. “Yeah? When’s the last time you really kissed a gal?”
Heat steamed his cheeks as he picked up the pace. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Plenty. I tell ya, you’re missing out, O’Connor, and I for one think you’re crazy. Why don’t you just be a man about it and get out there and mingle a little?” He eyed him with a taunting grin. “Who knows? It might help avoid another nasty mood like this afternoon. Or are you afraid some sweet little thing is gonna pitch a fast one that’ll leave you tied to home plate?”
Challenge rose up in Sean as they passed Tucker’s Bakery, as palpable as the smell of fresh bread that watered his mouth. “A woman hasn’t been born who can tie me to home plate, Murph.”
Pete laughed and slapped him on the back, then shifted the bag to his other shoulder with another grunt. “Oh, she’s been born, my friend, and you can bet on that.” He cocked his head. “If you’re brave enough to get in the game, that is.” He hesitated, his grin raising the bar. “Unless you’re afraid of losing? You know, a knuckle ball that throws you a curve? I’ll bet you wouldn’t even see it coming.”
A wide grin slid across Sean’s face as he wrested the bag from Pete’s shoulder and tossed it over his own. “Oh, I’d see it coming, all right, and I’ll knock it out of the park, make no mistake. And you and the boys can set your watches by that.”
Pete laughed. “Maybe.” He slapped Sean on the shoulder as they parted ways at the corner. “If some little gal doesn’t fix your clock first. Either way,” he said with a grin that was more of a dare, “gotta feeling that one of these days soon, you’re gonna run out of time.”
Home, sweet home. Emma turned the key in the lock and eased her apartment door open, quite certain she had never been this tired. Between a grueling week at work, evenings helping Marcy and her girls prepare for the wedding, and a wonderfully full but exhausting day, Emma was spent. She closed the door and flipped the bolt, slipping her
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