Free Love in Reality: A Contemporary Romance (The Blackjack Quartet) by Magdalen Braden Page A

nodded, then turned to get half-and-half out of the fridge.
    “Do you take it black?” she asked.
    “Yup.”
    She returned the carton, then remembered she used it in her coffee and took it back out.
    “Am I making you nervous?” he asked.
    “A little.”
    He deliberately moved back so that he was half in the hallway. “Better?”
    “Yup.”
    They laughed, and Libby started to relax.
    When they were sitting in the living room drinking their coffee, Rand explained what he was doing there.
    “Here’s the thing,” he said. “As you know, there’s often a twist in The Fishbowl . This year is no different. We’re asking two of the Fish to try to fool the other ten.”
    “I’m one of the two,” Libby said.
    He cocked his head. “Why do you say that?”
    “If I were one of the ten, you’d have explained it differently. You’d have said something about how two of the Fish will be pretending. By emphasizing that you’re asking two Fish to fool the others, it’s clear I’ll be one of the two.”
    Rand leaned back and laughed. “You’re right, of course. And you’ve managed to highlight my problem. I need you to be less smart.”
    “Less intelligent?”
    “Exactly.”
    “I don’t think I come across as particularly smart, but okay. What should I act like?”
    “Yourself only ditzier.”
    “Ditzy? Do you mean scatterbrained?”
    Rand hesitated. “Do you watch a lot of movies?”
    “No.”
    “Oh.”
    “Why? Is there a particular movie type you want?”
    “Yeah. My boss wants someone who’s not dim, precisely, just not very intellectually organized. I’m a film buff, so I imagine Carole Lombard in My Man Godfrey —” he paused to check if she’d seen it. Libby shook her head. “—or Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday .”
    Libby said, “Wait, is that the one where she’s dating some mobster and he thinks she’s stupid, so he hires a tutor for her, only she’s not as dumb as she looks, then she and the tutor fall in love?”
    His face lit up like a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons. “Exactly. Broderick Crawford as the loudmouth millionaire and William Holden as the newspaperman he hires. It’s an excellent example of George Cukor’s work. Based on the play by Garson Kanin, who also—” He trailed off, probably because her face was registering her amazement.
    “Sorry,” he said. “I get carried away.”
    Now Libby knew how Lissa must feel listening to her twin describe an exciting legal argument. “That’s okay. I understand, I really do.”
    He looked thoughtful, then glanced around the room. “I can show you what I’m talking about,” he offered, gesturing toward the TV.
    He started explaining about how he could stream movies on demand. Libby didn’t bother to pay attention. She was too taken with the curve of his back as he leaned forward to tap something out on his laptop. His T-shirt had ridden up at the back, and there was a crescent of skin showing between the waistband of the jeans and his shirt.
    When was the last time she’d touched a man there, at the small of his back? She wasn’t a nun, for God’s sake. She got asked out and sometimes she went. She’d even slept with a few guys, mostly during college. Touching a man’s skin just to feel the velvet smoothness? Libby couldn’t remember when that last happened.
    Rand connected the laptop to the TV, something Libby had no idea you could even do, and before long, My Man Godfrey had started. Libby had to smile, as there were a couple of similarities between the father, Mr. Bullock, and Bill Pembroke. Of course, the mother in the movie was nothing like Mom, who was scarily on top of things. Still, the image of William Powell as a butler calming “the pixies” made Libby laugh out loud.
    Rand had stretched out on the sofa, his left arm along the back. Before she knew it, she’d edged closer to Rand and his arm was behind her head. She felt too self-conscious to move away. She waited for Rand to increase the space