Read Online Down for the Count by Christine Bell - Free Book Online Page B

and instead led him toward the bistro.
    A few minutes later, they stood by the outdoor bar less than fifty yards from the ocean. The room was long and narrow, with seating designed to take advantage of as much beachfront space as possible. Tables flanked the railing, offering both a breeze and a view, or with a few steps down, patrons could sit at a table in the sand if they chose.
    A waitress bustled by with what looked like a mouthwatering plate of shrimp and Lacey grinned. “Nice place.”
    He nodded. “But don’t let the fact that it worked out well this time go to your head. It’s always better to take a chance than to be left doing the safe thing and wondering what you’re missing. I bet that lobster was fantastic.” His tone was teasing but she knew he was only half kidding, just as she knew he was right.
    “It’s been one day. I’m a work in progress. Don’t forget, half of Condado Beach saw my boobs earlier, so I need some recovery time.”
    She climbed onto a stool, and once she was seated, he did the same. The bartender came over and set menus in front of them. “What can I get you to drink?” he asked with a thick accent. She responded in her high school Spanish, and the waiter grinned.
    “What did you order?” Galen asked.
    “A cubre libre sans the rum.”
    He chuckled. “So, a Coke?”
    “Yeah. With a lime.” He clucked his tongue disapprovingly and she gave him a light shove on the shoulder. “Don’t be a bad influence. I may be sitting at the bar, but there is no way I’m drinking after yesterday. Not tonight. In fact, maybe not ever again.”
    Low, husky laughter met her pronouncement. She and Galen both turned toward the source. A beautiful woman with a pin-straight fall of ebony hair sat a few stools down from them.
    “Oh man, I’ve been there before,” the woman said. She was a stunner, with catlike eyes so dark they were almost black. Her sun-kissed skin suggested she’d been in San Juan for a while, although her New England accent indicated that she wasn’t a native.
    The handsome sandy-haired man with her nodded more enthusiastically than she must have liked, because she gave him a playful swat on the arm. “What?” he protested. “I’m not the one who tells you to mix like that. You’re drinking wine, you drink wine. You don’t then have a beer and then a mixed drink. Am I right?” This he aimed at Galen, who held up both hands.
    “Whoa, no comment. I don’t get involved in domestic disputes like this, especially when she’s clearly violent.”
    The couple laughed, and Lacey felt a spurt of envy at Galen’s comfort level with strangers. While she’d always been polite, there was a natural banter that his laid-back presence seemed to inspire in spite of his intimidating size. She liked people, but anxiety held her back from making friends very easily. Actually, now that she thought about it, she’d had the same few friends since childhood. Even then it had been the result of another person befriending her, not the other way around.
    Cat had instigated their friendship. She’d taken Lacey’s Twinkie and pronounced, “We’re gonna be bestest friends, you and me.” In spite of Lacey’s reserved reaction—she was pretty sure she’d shrugged helplessly—deep down, she had been thrilled to bits. Over the moon that this crazy little girl with hair the shade of a new penny, who used her outside voice all the time, would want to be friends with a boring nobody like her.
    The man’s smooth alto brought her back to the present. “I’m Cyrus, and this is my fiancée, Nikki. So where you guys from?”
    “Rhode Island. You?”
    “Connecticut.”
    A long silence ensued, during which Nikki and her man exchanged a glance. “Would you like to join us?” he asked, finally gesturing to the four-top table behind them.
    Lacey tamped down the familiar swirl of nervousness and nodded. Dinner with exotic strangers. “That sounds like fun.” She couldn’t squelch the