He supposed that was exactly what people thought of him. He knew his profession—former profession—as a fighter didn’t help. But so what if people didn’t want to take a chance to get to know him? He was fine being alone. Always had been. The few friends he had were plenty.

He grabbed his crutch and went out into the living room. Grom trotted along. No sign of Lisa. He called upstairs, “Are you almost ready? The car will be here.”

“On my way down,” she called back.

“All right.” He let Grom out to do some business. “Stay close. No rolling in bad things either.”

Grom snorted and took off.

Van shook his head as he went into the kitchen to get the champagne. Heels clicked on the stairs behind him. Lisa was on her way down. Good. Her timing was perfect. He was going to need help with the champagne. Two bottles and a crutch didn’t mix well.

The heels clicked into the kitchen while he was taking the bottles out of the fridge.

“Can I carry those?”

It was nice of her to ask before he’d even said anything. “Yes, thank you. Just one will help.”

He turned to hand her a bottle and almost dropped it. He stared, fixated, mouth open.

She took the champagne from his hand, her brows knitting. “You okay?”

He took a moment because he wasn’t sure. His immediate answer would have been no. Not with her standing there in a black dress that was at once heart-stoppingly sexy and extremely ladylike. The neckline dipped off of her shoulders just enough to expose her collarbones, plunging slightly at the center in a vee that pointed toward her breasts. Like he didn’t know where they were. The dress hugged every curve of her body, stopping just above her knees. Her legs were bare, and she wore shiny black heels that exposed her toes.

They were painted glittery gold. His gaze stayed on her toes a long moment. “You look nice.”

Nice? That was the best he could do? Grom in his new collar looked nice.

Lisa looked…hot. Like an inferno. Like a metric ton of lava. Like the surface-of-the-sun hot.

She glanced down at her toes. “I realize now my shoes weren’t the best choice for the weather here, but I wasn’t thinking. Things are different in Vegas.”

He nodded. Then looked at her. “You are from Las Vegas?”

Her eyes went blank for a second. “I, uh, yes. I work at the League offices there. Well, not at the offices, but out of those offices. That’s where I report to, I mean.”

He nodded again. He wasn’t entirely sure what she’d just said. Her collarbones were too distracting.

She set the champagne on the island. “Is this dress too much? I wasn’t sure what to wear. Everything else I had looked too businessy or too casual.”

“Nyet. Is good.” And his English was bad. He took a breath and tried to remember what he’d just been practicing. “Your dress is very good. You look very pretty.”

Pretty was better. And as far as he was willing to go. If he told her what he really thought, she’d run screaming into the woods, thinking he was about to maul her.

She leaned her hip on the counter, her fingers loose on the neck of the bottle. “You look really great too. Casual but dressed up, and that jacket is perfect on you. Probably custom-made, right? With your shoulders, I can’t imagine you can buy anything off the rack.”

Did that mean she’d been checking out his body? Did she like the way he looked? Not every woman appreciated this many muscles on a man. Why was he having the thoughts of a high-school boy? What was wrong with him? Were naked collarbones all it took to shove him into puberty again?

“Da. All my suits must be made.” He shrugged. “A small price to pay for what my body allows me to do.” He cleared his throat. “Allowed.”

“Not to mention that you’re probably going to look a hundred times better than the rest of the guys at this party who aren’t wearing a custom-made jacket.” She smiled at him and picked up the champagne. “Did you say the car was here?”

His phone buzzed, no doubt the driver announcing his arrival. “Just now.”

The first part of the ride was spent in silence, the addition of the driver somehow making Van self-conscious about anything he might say. It was all right, though. Lisa seemed occupied with the town as soon as they turned onto Main.

“Hey, this place is really cool.” She stared out the window, the shop lights reflected in her pretty eyes. “Hah! Look at that. Hats In The Belfry. That’s funny.”

She kept up a running commentary even as they got onto the residential streets. “The houses here are so pretty. And so different from what I’m used to. I love them.”

The driver pulled in front of Pandora and Cole’s and parked.

Lisa sucked in a breath. “Is this seriously their house?”

“Yes.” That much Van could say.

“It’s amazing. I’d be throwing a party too if I lived here.” She snuck a look at him. “I can’t imagine cleaning it, though.” She laughed. “It would take days.”

He studied her as the driver went around to open her door. What did a woman like Lisa want out of life? She’d been concerned about losing her job. He understood that. But the women he’d met in the last few years had been focused on things. Or at least, what things he had and what things he might be able to provide. Expensive gifts, nice cars, big houses, posh trips, lavish meals.

He got out of the car as she did too. She’d already grabbed both bottles of champagne from the driver, who’d gotten them out of the back. Van walked to her side and offered her his arm. The one not piloting the crutch.