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she asked, licking the grease from her fingers.
    He ground his teeth and forced his attention away from her mouth.
    “I was thinking,” she went on. “Maybe we could go to a show? I haven’t had the chance to really do the whole Vegas…”
    He listened to her drone on about the Vegas experience as she polished off the rest of his fries. He hated going to shows. They were a waste of time and money.
    “I’ll pay, of course.” She drained the rest of her wine and then looked at him, a dazzling smile on her face. “I think the alcohol is kicking in. It should by now. I mean I had a half a bottle earlier, and another glass here. I can tell because—”
    “I think a show sounds great,” he interrupted, not even wanting to know how she could tell she might be drunk.
    “Oh. You are the best.” She snagged another fry. “Do you think we could get tickets for Donny and Marie?”
    Donny and fucking Marie? Seriously? This was hell. He was fantasizing about a woman that dressed worse than his grandma and wanted him to go see The Osmonds in concert.
    He should have taken her up on the wine.
    “They are still here, aren’t they? My mom loved Donny Osmond. I had to listen to him when I was a kid. You know that song, “Puppy Love?” I could sing it for you.”
    Fuck, please don’t . “No, that’s cool. I know it,” he said so fast he nearly tripped on the words. “But I don’t think I can get tickets. I’m sure you have to book way in advance.”
    Brandy ate the last bite of her cheesecake and gave him a suspicious look. “Okay, let’s be honest. I’m guessing you’re like every other man out there. You’d rather have a root canal than see Donny and Marie in concert.”
    Marco grimaced. “That about sums it up.”
    “How about a magic show?” she suggested hopefully. “That’s not so bad, is it?”
    When? When would this night end? Come midnight he was gone, out of here. Good-bye. Good-night. Gone. Good Samaritan hat could be hung back up.
    “No. That’s not so bad,” he heard himself say.
    Her mouth tilted upward and something shifted inside him, made his breath catch.
    “You’ve got an amazing smile,” he told her without thinking. The compliment had her mouth snapping shut and her lips drawing down into a frown. “What. What did I say?”
    “I think Gordon only loves me for my teeth,” she confided despondently.
    “For your…your teeth?”
    “Don’t look so confused.” She sighed. “He’s a cosmetic dentist for a reality television show.”
    “Which show?”
    “ New You .”
    He winced. “That’s a pretty shitty show. No offense.”
    “None taken. I agree.”
    They both laughed and some of his irritation faded. Curiosity arose in its place.
    “So, we’ve known each other a whole two hours. Are you ready to tell my why you ran from your wedding?”
    “Oh.” Her expression sobered and he almost felt bad for changing the subject. “Umm…I don’t really know why I ran. I just know I didn’t want to get married in a shrine to Elvis.”
    “That’s it? The location alone?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
    She bit her lip and looked down. “And I wasn’t so sure I wanted to get married to Gordon. We’ve been together for a year, but still…”
    “So why did you agree to marry him in the first place?”
    Marco’s curiosity increased as she started to blush again.
    “You’re going to think I’m ridiculous,” she muttered.
    “Doubtful.”
    “I was starting to feel bad because I’m not married. And…” She took a deep breath and folded her hands on the table. “I turn thirty next week.”
    Marco snapped his mouth shut. She wasn’t thirty yet? Hell, in that outfit he’d had her pegged for thirty-five at least.
    He cleared his throat. “It isn’t so bad being single and thirty.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Of course being single in your thirties works for you. You’re a guy.”
    “I’m almost twenty-nine.”
    Brandy blinked and then shook her head. “I need