Des nodded. “I’ll be honest, when you first came to me I thought the whole thing was a bit gimmicky. But I misjudged the product—it’s really good.”

Hope curled in Libby’s gut; she had the feeling Des wasn’t one to hand out praise too easily. This was definitely a positive step forward, all she had to do now was convince him that his customers would select her bottles from the shelf.

“Having a few flavored vodkas would really open up the opportunity for a specialized cocktail menu,” Paul interjected, opening the last bottle and pouring four shots. “And mixology classes.”

Des raised a brow. “Mixology classes?”

“Libby and I came up with this brilliant idea—”

“I’m not taking credit,” she said, holding up her hands. “That was all you.”

“We—I—want to start up my own mixology school. I thought we could run classes on how to create professional cocktails at home or for parties, teach people the theory behind mixing the perfect drink. It would be a perfect branding partnership for Libby Gal Cocktails as well.” His face was neutral but she sensed a nervous energy in the way he bounced his leg next to hers under the table. “I could run it during the week. It will bring more people into the bar on our quiet nights, make some extra revenue if we couple the classes with a dinner here.”

“Do you have a business plan?” Des asked.

“Uh…no.”

“A concept without a business plan is just an idea. I’d need to see numbers, stats, and how you think we’ll fund this activity before I can even consider it.”

Paul looked as though he’d run full speed into a brick wall. Sure, she hadn’t expected Des to fawn over his idea, but some semblance of positive feedback would have been nice. Some brotherly support perhaps?

Knowing Des a little better, she had the feeling it wasn’t personal. He took his business very seriously, and Paul was his younger brother. Maybe this had something to do with why Paul felt it necessary to have a fake girlfriend?

“Sure, I’ll put something together,” Paul said.

“I’m not going to be able to make it to the car if we keep drinking at this rate,” Gracie said, in an obvious attempt to move the conversation along. However, she didn’t hesitate to accept another shot when Paul handed it to her. “Is this lavender?”

“Yeah, I source it from a huge farm in Daylesford. They have a whole food and drink menu based around it, and that’s where I got the idea to make a lavender infusion.” She turned to Des. “You might like this one, too. I didn’t add anything sweet to it, so it’s more herbal than floral.”

“Lavender?” He looked sceptical. “I guess we’ll soon find out.”

“Salute!” Paul lifted his glass, and everyone else followed.

Glasses slammed down against the table in a disjointed beat. Libby’s head swam with fuzzy warmth. She’d have to ease off if she had any chance of being able to drive home…ever. Frowning, she stole a glance at the clock. The hour hand hovered just before the ten. She’d definitely be getting a cab at this rate.

“You know,” Gracie said, toying with her now empty shot glass. “The Bellinis would be a great thing to serve at the wedding. We could make them the toasting drink for the speeches.”

“Wouldn’t your mother have a heart attack if we deviated from the very carefully selected menu she presented us with?” Des asked, a cheeky glint in his eye.

Gracie shot him a look. “We don’t have to serve them all night, but I love the story behind our drink. We can make it part of our speech and then get the waiters to hand them out. They are absolutely beautiful.”

“I could make you some miniature bottles to give away as gifts for your guests or bridal party,” Libby offered. “I did it for a friend, and they looked so adorable. We did custom labels with drawings of the bride and groom.”

“We haven’t figured out the bonbonnière yet.” Gracie turned to Des. “I know you were keen to do that since it’s such a big Italian tradition.”

The discussion between Gracie and Des dissolved into a checklist of wedding preparation activities.

Paul leaned in close to Libby. “You totally sold Des. He looked damn impressed.”

“You think so?” She turned her head. He sat so close that his heat enveloped her, awareness danced along her nerves, filling her body with a delicious hum.

“You nailed it.” He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, a throaty chuckle reverberating against her neck when she shivered. “I, on the other hand, need a business plan.”

“I could help you with that.”

“I’d prefer it if you help me with something else.” He trailed a fingertip down the length of her neck.

“Don’t think you can get all handsy just because we’ve had a few drinks,” she whispered, shooting him a look.

“Isn’t that what a boyfriend does?” He grinned. “You seemed to enjoy it yesterday.”

When it came to seduction Paul could run rings around her…with his eyes closed and both hands tied behind his back.

“I’ve got an idea,” Gracie suddenly announced, her eyes twinkling with mischievousness. “Since we have all this vodka at our disposal, why don’t we play a drinking game?”

“You’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow,” Des warned, brushing a stray curl from her face.

“I’ll be fine.” She waved off his concerns. “I want to play Never Have I Ever.”

Paul groaned. “I don’t feel like condemning myself tonight.”

“Okay, I definitely want to play now.” Libby raised a brow.

If he wouldn’t open up to her under normal circumstances, maybe he’d let a few things slip in a competitive situation. Their arrangement was supposed to be business, but pleasure had crept in, and curiosity had followed close behind.

“Fine,” Paul said, bending down close to her again. “But I won’t hold back.”

She sucked in a breath, willing her heart to beat more slowly. “Bring it.”

“Why don’t we fix the ladies a drink?” Des motioned for Paul to follow him to the bar. “Make sure Gracie’s is 90 percent soda water.”

“I heard that!” Gracie pointed at her fiancé.

“She’s a big girl, she can handle herself,” Paul replied, winking at Gracie.

“You haven’t seen her hungover. She gets so miserable.” Des shook his head ruefully. “I hate seeing her like that.”

“Awww, true love,” Libby said, her tone teasing though envy coursed through her like poison.

Since when did she want that? She shook her head, trying to dislodge the strange sensation. Instead she concentrated on watching Paul make their drinks, mesmerized by how his hands seemed to caress everything he touched. Or was she drunk?

Paul reached for some fresh tumblers and measured out half shots of vodka into each of the girl’s glasses. He topped them up with plenty of soda water and added a dash of syrup.

At the rate her head was turning fuzzy, the watered-down drink would be a blessing.

“It’s for their own good.” Des slapped Paul on the back and returned to the table. “Can I get a reminder on the rules?”

“We go around in a circle and make a statement starting with never have I ever,” Gracie said, accepting her drink from Paul. “If you’ve done the action then you take a drink. For example, if I say never have I ever gotten a tattoo, Des would have to drink but I wouldn’t. Got it?”

“Let’s go.” Des reached for his own drink.

“I’ll start,” Libby volunteered, looking around the table with a dramatic pause. “Never have I ever cheated on a test.”

Both Chapman boys took a swig of their drinks and looked at each other, laughing. Seeing them together in such a relaxed atmosphere, they were startlingly alike: dark hair, darker eyes, olive skin, and great bodies. But Paul had a mischievous charm about him whereas Des was more serious, the typical older brother.

“Delinquents.” Gracie shook her head. “Never have I ever been to Europe.”

The rest of the group all raised their glasses with a cheer and Gracie pouted.