Thirty Two

When Danna returned to the reception desk to answer the phone, Jean said, “Well, if you’re set on going on this date, you can at least tell me about him.”

“His name’s Jackson. He’s a web designer.”

“Sounds boring.”

“All you’ve heard is his name and occupation.”

“Exactly. Already he sounds boring. Now, if he was a tall, ash-blond alpha male with an inner wolf—”

“Jean,” she groaned.

“Fine. So where are you going on this date?”

“We’re going to the Moroccan restaurant near your place.”

One of his brows lifted. “Oooh, maybe I’ll pop in then.”

“No. You’ll grill him like he’s being interrogated for a murder charge.”

“Yes, for your own good. For all you know, he could be a murderer. An ax murderer, even. There could be bodies hidden under his patio.”

She growled, “You’re a pain in my ass.”

She continued to be a pain in her ass all day—dedicated it to poking fun at a guy she hadn’t