“This is the best day of my life.”

Anna caught her cousin’s gaze in the reflection of her full-length mirror. “Seriously,” she said slowly, “this day? What about the day Brady told you he loved you for the first time?”

Shaelyn paused to consider that with a tilt of her head. “Nope, today’s the winner.”

From Anna’s bed, the third member to their trio, Jade Harper, held up her hand. “I solemnly swear not to tell Sergeant Taylor you said that.”

Shae snorted. “Girl, you are such a law enforcement nerd.”

“To be fair, she does work for the NOPD,” Anna pointed out as she stuck her face close to the mirror and layered on two rounds of black mascara.

Only a few months earlier, Jade had found herself embroiled in one of the most publicized homicide cases New Orleans had seen in recent years. She’d cracked the case and ended up in the hospital as a result—but Anna highly doubted Jade looked back on that period of her life too harshly. She’d worked the case with Nathan Danvers at her side, one of Brady’s coworkers in the NOPD’s homicide unit, and a man who loved Jade more than life itself.

Anna had watched the whole thing go down as an outsider, and even though she had no desire to be a cop—she was just fine selling lingerie, thank you very much—she couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Danvers’ and Jade’s relationship.

The two of them were truly best friends. The romance was just the dessert after a four-course meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant.

Anna tossed the mascara tube into her makeup bag. “Perfume? No perfume? Did I mention that I’m thankful to y’all for keeping an eye on Julian tonight?”

Shaelyn, ever the more boisterous one of the two cousins, plunked down on Anna’s leather bench. “Jules is my favorite. Also, what scents do you have?”

“The usual, I guess. Rose, lavender, that sort of thing.”

“My sister would be horrified at the small selection,” Jade said, referring to her younger sister who’d recently moved to New York City and was making waves in the fashion world. “The last time she and my mom came to visit, Sammie dragged me to this herbal shop in the Quarter. She was determined to find me a new scent.”

Anna’s heart kicked up its speed at the mention of Herbal Heaven. It’d been a week since she’d sent Mr. Green Eyes stumbling to the ground, and the embarrassment had yet to lessen.

Sticking her hand into one of Anna’s makeup bags, Shaelyn pulled out a small glass bottle with a pretty pink topper. She uncapped the top, drew in a deep sniff, and then passed it over. Wordlessly, Anna accepted the perfume and spritzed the lavender scent on her inner wrists.

For her first date in what felt like forever, she was going big. Blonde hair blown out around her shoulders, little black dress, and her favorite designer stilettos—if she and tonight’s date didn’t hit it off, it wasn’t for a lack of trying on her part.

“You know who owns that place, right?” Shaelyn asked, bringing the conversation back to Herbal Heaven. She twisted herself around on the bench so she could look at Jade on the bed. “Luke O’Connor’s mom.”

Anna paused, lifting her gaze to the vanity’s mirror so she could watch her friends. Luke O’Connor. Why in the world did that name sound so familiar?

Jade seemed equally confused, her dark eyes narrowed in thought. “Not placing the name here. Let’s not forget that I’m the newbie from Miami.”

Shaelyn waved away the comment. “Brady’s friend? You probably haven’t met him. He was deployed until only recently.”

What was the likelihood of Mr. Green Eyes working in Herbal Heaven, the same place as Luke O’Connor? Slim to none. Anna didn’t believe in coincidences.

And as much as she wanted to spend the rest of the night talking about a man with brilliantly clear green eyes, she had a different guy waiting for her.

Anna was going on a date.

She had to get her mind in the game.

Anna was in Date Hell.

Jason Hudson’s profile on Love Scope, which was a new variation of the same old dating website, had screamed normal. In the square profile photo he’d shared, the man had even worn a pocket-protector for God’s sake.

Boring perhaps, but exactly what Anna had in mind for dipping her toes back into the dating pool.

“More champagne?” her date asked, one masculine hand wrapped around a glass of Dom Perignon. When the server had come around to take their drink order, Anna hadn’t wanted anything fancy.

Frankly, she didn’t even like Dom Perignon and found its price tag way too fussy.

Of course, that was before Jason had shown her to their table, and she’d discovered that her date had brought a . . . friend.

“Yes,” she said eagerly, “I would love more champagne.”

If she could have wrestled the bottle from his grasp, she would have.

“So,” Jason said, after topping off her glass, “you haven’t answered my question.”

Anna’s gaze flicked to the “friend,” who hadn’t provided his name. She had a feeling it wasn’t coming anytime soon. Had she thought she was ready to begin dating again? Lies, all lies.

“I have not”—she took another much-needed swig of her champagne—“no.”

“Threesomes are not nearly as taboo as they used to be,” Jason’s friend said from his position at the head of the table. “Nor are quad relationships.”

As the owner of New Orleans’s hottest lingerie boutique, Anna wasn’t a prude. There wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen or heard at least three times before. But this, this was new and she hadn’t quite wrapped her brain around the fact that seated next to the Friend was an inanimate doll.

An inanimate doll that, apparently, would be the fourth member to their foursome should Anna agree to make it happen.

“I don’t—” Anna reached for her champagne glass again. They were serious about this, and she certainly didn’t want to crush their dreams but . . . “I don’t think I’m the right fit for your quad.”

Jason settled a hand over hers. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Apparently, she needed to reevaluate her standards of “boring.” She slid her hand out from beneath his. “I’m looking for just one guy to date right now. You know, test the waters.”

The Friend wrapped a hand around the doll’s shoulders and drew it onto his lap. “We only want love,” he said, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Me too.” Only, she wanted it with just one person. Dolls excluded, permanently. “I’m so sorry about this. Here, I’ll pay for your drinks.”

The Friend was not done. He leaned forward, arms planted on the tabletop. “Might I add that the next time you go looking for love, you don’t do so on a novelty website?”

She blinked. “Beg pardon?”

“Love Scope,” he snapped, “is a dating site for those who like to flirt with the taboo or have certain fetishes. It’s not for people looking for vanilla experiences.”

Her mouth unceremoniously dropped open. Julian. When she’d activated an account on the website, she hadn’t even thought to read the site’s About Us. Instead she’d felt so anxious that she’d simply uploaded a photo, typed up a small blurb about herself, and sent it out into the universe.

The universe was currently feasting on pot brownies and laughing at her expense, she just knew it.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said, “I didn’t . . . You’re so right. It’s not for me, but I do hope that y’all meet your perfect match. And should you find yourself down in the French Quarter at all, stop by my shop on Chartres.”

The date ended with her passing the men—and doll—business cards for La Parisienne with the promise to offer them the Family & Friends discount.

All in all, it could have been worse.

Not ready to head home yet and accept defeat, Anna found a secluded booth, and brought Mr. Dom Perignon and her champagne glass with her. She tossed her purse on the table and slid onto the cushioned bench.

She pulled out her phone to text Julian. Son, I know where you sleep at night, she typed out before hitting send. She sent a group text to Shaelyn and Jade mentioning that the night had been a bust and she’d give them the details tomorrow.

Sipping her champagne, she rested the back of her head against the booth and closed her eyes. This was not how she’d envisioned her first date going. This was why she invested herself so fully into her business. A business couldn’t confuse or hurt you, and while it sometimes hurled surprise curveballs, they were usually remedied with some good old-fashioned marketing tactics.

Dating was . . . hard.

“You rethinkin’ your decision to send those guys home brokenhearted?”

The champagne sloshed over the rim as Anna jerked at the familiar male voice.

It was him.

Mr. Green Eyes. Luke O’Connor.

He stood by the opposite bench of her booth, a towering male of loose sweatpants paired with a dark polo. It was a strange combination, especially for a bar on a Friday night. Tuck’s wasn’t fancy by any means, but sweatpants weren’t the norm.

Despite the dim lighting, she noted his astute gaze, and he seemed to have read her mind because he said, “Jeans are too tight on my hip.”

Almost belatedly she looked to the cane he gripped tight in his right hand, before meeting his green eyes. Strain lines bracketed his mouth, an unspoken indicator that the pain he suffered was more than he’d ever admit.

“What happened?” she asked, belatedly realizing how intrusive the question was.

Mouth twisting wryly, he lifted the cane just a smidge. “A football gone wrong while I was deployed overseas. Let your mind get creative.”

She tapped the table with her nails, internally fighting with herself. She really shouldn’t even ask . . . “Would you like to sit?”

For a moment, he didn’t move and Anna was positive he’d rebuff her invitation. In surprise, she watched as he carefully folded his large frame into the booth. He kept his body twisted so that his legs could sprawl into the open space. The cane he folded across his lap.

Was it weird that she wanted to reach across the table and smooth the furrow between his brows? Yup, totally weird. To keep her hands busy, she topped off her champagne and took a sip. “Have you been stalking me, waiting for your moment to finally get the last word in?”

He didn’t smile—no surprise there. “You stormed off like a bat out of hell. I took pity on you.”

“Did you?” Perhaps it was the Dom Perignon making her feel bold, but Anna found herself playfully tapping his arm. “If you would have caught up with me, what would you have done?”

The slant of his full mouth didn’t change, but Anna could have sworn his gaze darkened. “I don’t chase women.”

Unexpected disappointment filtered through her, and she hid her embarrassment by coolly sipping her wine. “I thought men liked the chase.”

His big shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. “Some do.”

“But you don’t.”

“I don’t see the point,” he admitted bluntly.

Interesting. Based on the number of men who visited La Parisienne with the hope of spicing up their sex lives, she figured Luke O’Connor might be the only man in existence who couldn’t be bothered.

Anna leaned back, studying him over the rim of her champagne flute. “So, what’s the point then?”

“Depends on your goal.” The deep cadence of his voice was like liquid heat between her legs.

It had to be the champagne. Anna wasn’t a huge drinker. When she got together with the girls, she always kept it at a glass or two. But tonight, the Dom Perignon was definitely getting to her head. Because if she’d had all of her senses, she surely wouldn’t have opened her mouth and voiced the question hovering on the tip of her tongue.