Читать книгу The Christmas Wedding Swap - Allyson Charles - Страница 2

“He’s single, of legal age, and wearing black boots. You promised you’d flirt with the first man who fit that description.”

She managed to twist so she landed on her hands and her hip, a sharp pain arcing down her side bringing a sting to her eyes and a filthy word to her lips. Her shopping bags landed upside down, scattering cellophane bags of pastel-colored Jordan almonds and boxes of white votive candles onto the cold concrete.

Perfect. Just flipping perfect. If that just wasn’t the cherry on this craptastic morning, she didn’t know what was.

Until a pair of worn black motorcycle boots stepped in front of her. Then she knew that as bad as turfing it on the sidewalk in the middle of downtown was, it didn’t compare to being caught ass up by the next man she was supposed to flirt with.

He squatted, the faded denim at his knees pulling tight, exposing another inch of the pair of sexy boots. Two straps of butter-soft leather held a round silver buckle in place at the ankle. Small scuff marks were etched around the squared-off toes. She loved the squared-off toe on men’s boots.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a soothing rumble and genuine concern lacing his words. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

Allison sat back on her feet and sighed. She wanted nothing more than to retreat to her restaurant and grab a bag of ice for her hip and a shot of whiskey from the bottle she kept in her office. But a deal was a deal. Time to get her flirt on. “I’m fine. I just…” Her eyes caught up with her mouth, and she froze. He was beautiful, the hottest man she’d ever seen in person.