If he didn’t distract himself, he was at severe risk of calling Gracie again and leaving another gruff, pointless voicemail. Not that it mattered—she hadn’t returned the first one, so why would she return a second? Reaching for a bottle of tequila, Des poured a row of five shots for a group of girls in matching pink T-shirts. The bachelorette party was already looking messy, and one of the girls winked suggestively at him as he slid the shots over to their side of the bar. The other men ogled the girls in their tighter-than-tight T-shirts and matching skin-tight jeans, but all he could think was how none of them held a candle to Gracie. “Not your type?” Paul took a not-so-subtle look at the girls. Des walked over to the shelves where the spirits were housed and shook his head. “Not my type at all.” “Then you won’t mind if I strike up a conversation with the blond one?” Paul was a ladies man, and he liked his ladies forward and fair-haired.
What do You think about The Rules According To Gracie?
