Chapter 20

The shot of whiskey was waiting for me. I downed it in a white-hot second. “How’d you know?”

“First night jitters,” he replied.

“Third night.”

He shrugged. He poured me another. “Does it matter?”

I shook my head. “Not a lick.”

He winked. “Not even a little, well-placed lick?”

“I bet you flirt with all the girls.”

His chuckle tickled me ear. “Have you seen allthe girls?”

The image of each of them flashed across my mind. “Most of the girls.” He cocked one eye. “Some of the girls.” The other eye met the first. “Just me?” I pointed at just me. Well, I downed my second shot first, then pointed—priorities being what they were. “But you don’t even know me.” And what he did know was based on a lie. I wasn’t a drag queen. I wasn’t there for artistic anything. “Do you have a thing for men in dresses?”

He shook his head. “Nope, just one man, singular.”