“Are you married?” I ask the blonde sitting next to me at the bar and feel my lips twitch when she squirms in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with lying. “No,” she says and smiles up at me. My God, every time she smiles at me like that, I fall in love with her just a bit more. I’m so fucking whipped. And I don’t care. “No boyfriend?” “No, sir,” she says and swivels in her chair, so she’s facing me. She runs the tip of her finger down my arm, sending electricity straight to my