“I recommend the tequila,” Nix says, holding up her empty shot glass. “It’s been the best part of my day. Seriously, let me go get us a round.”

“I’ll take two.”

She goes back up to the bar, and my eyes settle on the woman by the pool tables with Sam. Sabrina Guy. She’s a dead ringer for her mother, as if the governor managed to replicate instead of procreate. The fact that Governor Guy seems to have the secret of youth doesn’t hurt either.

I’m tucked into a booth, and Sam hasn’t even noticed I’m here. Seeing them together makes my chest ache like it did two years ago when I saw him kissing Asia. It’s been a couple of years, but I’ll never forget how much it hurt to see Sam being so tender with someone else right after he’d spent the night using my body in every conceivable way.

Déjà fucking vu.

Except not. Because while Sabrina’s hanging on his arm tonight, he doesn’t look tender, or happy, or even amused. He looks pissed.

I let him take me to the gala last weekend. I told myself it was more about work than pleasure, but he proved me wrong—multiple times. Then there was his dad’s warning this morning, on top of my own dumb mistake remembering a conversation I had with River as one I had with Sam.

I’ve earned this tequila.

“Two shots,” Nix says, setting the glasses in front of me. “Drink them quick and get that scowl off your face.”

I tear my gaze off Sabrina and take my first shot. It hits my empty stomach like a ball of fire.

“Good girl,” Nix says. “That’ll cure what ails you.”

“You’re the doctor.” I raise the second in mock salute. She sinks into her side of the booth and joins me for the second shot.

“I thought we were celebrating how well your speech went over the weekend,” she says. “But you don’t look very happy.”

“I’m fine. This looking-for-Mr.-Right thing is exhausting me. Maybe I’m meant to be a spinster.”

“I refuse to accept this as my fate or yours.”

“What about you?” I ask, eyeing the empty shot glasses in front of her. “What’s driven you into the loving arms of tequila?”

“Shit from home. It’ll be fine, but I’m not looking forward to the holidays. If I had a husband here, I’d at least have a good excuse not to visit. What about you? Does that scowl have anything to do with Mr. Sexy over there?”

“I don’t understand him,” I admit. “He’s this consummate bachelor, but then sometimes . . .” Sometimes he gives me sweet speeches that make me believe we could have a future. I shrug. “It’s stupid and it doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Any dates lined up for this week?”

“Not yet.” I’ve been so distracted by River and then Sam that I haven’t even logged into my multitude of dating sites lately. “I miss River.”

Nix chokes on her drink. “I’m sorry, what?” she manages after an impressive round of hacking.

“I miss him.”

“The anonymous stranger who wants to tie you up? Who may or may not be a serial killer? Who may or may not be a married man with a newborn baby at home? You. Miss. Him?”

“He’s not a serial killer. He’s . . . Whoever he is, he was a friend to me before any of the other stuff.” I shrug. “Connor’s a big idiot, I guess. But I miss my relationship with River.” I miss Hanna and Cally, too. Now that they have babies, they can’t come out much. It’s lonely being the single girl.

“What’s really bothering you?”

“Mr. Bradshaw told me he doesn’t like me seeing Sam. He all but said Sabrina Guy is his betrothed.” I roll my eyes. “God, I didn’t know people even did that crap anymore.”

Nix cranes her neck to look over her shoulder at Sam and Sabrina at the pool table. “It doesn’t look like he’s into her.”

“I still haven’t told him about River,” I confess. “Until I come clean, I have no right being jealous of Sabrina.”

“You could tell him now,” she says. “He’s coming this way.”

“Hey, ladies,” Sam says, sliding into the booth beside me, his hip pressed against mine. “How’s it going tonight?”

“Good,” I say, but Nix says, “We’ve been better.”

Sam frowns and then gives me the full attention of those honey-brown eyes. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Not exactly. I don’t think your dad . . .” I swallow. “I don’t think he approves of us dating.”

He grunts and takes a sip of his beer. “Well, that’s because he didn’t think of it first. You may not know this, but my father’s a bit of a control freak.”

I shrug. “I don’t want to get in the way of family matters, Sam.”

He shifts his attention to Nix. “Do you think you could excuse us? I need something from her, and I think I might need a few minutes to talk her into it.”

Nix quirks a brow at me, but then she slides out of the booth and leaves us alone.

“Do you have plans for this weekend?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“How do you feel about fresh seafood, candlelight?”

“Well, I—” I stop. “Are you asking me on a date?”