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“Not a problem. I’m here to make sure everyone gets home all right.”

“That’s not your job.” Rosie hiccups as she sips the water. “No one is paying you to take care of me. Certainly not me. I can’t afford to pay you anything. I only have a couple of thousand in the bank, and I’m saving up to buy myself a beach house and a Jeep Wrangler.”

“Ignore her.” Sage rolls her eyes and steps forward to give her sister a hug. “Night, Rosie. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Night, night.” Rosie gives her sister back the cup and then looks up at me. “You’re handsome, but you should smile more. You’re always so serious. It’s not the way to get women.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not looking for one.”

“You’re so odd. I’m looking for a man. A nice one. Handsome, smart, sweet, funny, and open to dancing.” She gives me a pointed look. “Unlike you.”

“It’s safe to say, you’re looking for the opposite of me then?” I nod at Sage and escort Rosie out of the bar. “I hate dancing.”

“You’re going to help me find Mr. Right though?” She looks up at me with beguiling eyes and then flutters her long lashes. “Don’t tell my sister, but I want him to be amazing in bed. I want a man who’s going to give me orgasms that make my eyes spin in the back of my head.”

“Um, okay.” I’m not sure how to answer that in a way that’s appropriate.

“Don’t look so nervous, Brett. It’s not like I’m asking you to make love to me.” She lowers her voice in a seductive way. “Not that you would want to anyway.”

“My car is a few blocks down,” I say to her in response. “Do you think you’re okay to walk to the car, or you can wait outside and I’ll get the car, or I can carry you?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m not going to have you carry me, Brett. Are you crazy?” She looks over at me. “I can walk. I’m not that tired.”

“I want to make sure I’m a perfect gentleman.”

“Oh, you’re always a perfect gentleman. What, are you from the South? Did you do cotillion?”

“I’m not from the South, and I’ve never done cotillion, but maybe that’s a compliment.”

“Do you actually think that’s a compliment?” She raises an eyebrow. “I’m telling you that I want a man to take me, to ravish me. Did I tell you that I read this book three weeks ago and it was about this guy who was, like, a serial killer stalker, but he had the hots for this woman and—why are you looking at me like that?” she says.

“That doesn’t sound like a book I thought you would be interested in. I don’t understand why any woman would think that a stalker or a serial killer was …”

“It’s fiction, Brett. It’s not real.”

“Okay.”

“Oh my gosh, how much farther is it?” she says, yawning.

“Another block or so,” I say.

“You want to go and get a drink somewhere?” She turns to me. “Just the two of us, and we can talk about …”

“I think that you’re tired and you’ve already had enough to drink, and I need to get you home.”

“You’re such a Goody Two-shoes. But I guess I’ll change that”—she giggles—“now that we’re best friends.” She stops suddenly and looks at me. “Am I your best friend, Brett?”

“Rosie, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but …”

“But what? Is that your way of telling me no?”

“You’re my friend, and you are Dalton’s sister-in-law, basically, and I’m going to make sure you get home⁠—”

She interrupts me. “Will you help me find a good guy then?” She puts her hands on her hips. “Because obviously, you don’t think I have good judgment, and obviously, I’m still single and, well, if you don’t want me, then you can help me find someone.”

“You don’t want me either, Rosie.”

“I know I don’t want you because you’re boring and you’re a grump. Oops, did I just say that out loud?” She pauses dramatically, and I stare at her, trying not to show her just how not boring I can be.