Geek Groom (Forever Geek Trilogy #2) by Victoria Barbour Page B

into a gaming store on Granville Street while in Vancouver and drop a package off to the owner. As if Evan didn’t have enough going on, he’d started carving dice and selling them online. This set was a gift to his friend Mike.
    While there I was given directions to a “must-taste” coffee shop just a couple of doors down. Being the coffee fiend that I am, I couldn’t pass up the chance to taste a new brew. Mike, the guy who owned the gaming store, even gave me a coupon he had squirrelled away so I could get a muffin too.
    “I’m not a big fan of muffins,” I’d told him. “Hold on to your coupon.”
    “It’s the coffee and muffin special. You really should try it,” he’d said. “It’s cheaper than just buying a coffee alone.”
    As I walked into the coffee shop, I remembered the day I’d first laid eyes on Evan. I’d had a similar exchange over coffee and muffins with his nephew Eddie. Seemed the allure of a coffee and muffin deal reached from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
    I’d just settled in to read while drinking a truly magnificent cup of coffee when I got a text from Sarah, one of my colleagues at the conference, inviting me to dinner. She gave me her room number and asked me to meet her there.
    When I got to her room, she asked if I could hang out for a few minutes while she ran to the ice machine. I couldn’t help but notice how much nicer her room was than mine. Clearly her university had a far greater travel budget than my beloved Memorial University of Newfoundland. The suite had a stately four post king-sized bed in the bedroom (yes, I peeked!) and a Jacuzzi tub. Lush cream and rose fabrics added to the lavish chestnut furnishings of the sitting room. A small dining room table stood next to a large window overlooking Stanley Park.
    A knock interrupted my coveting of her surroundings. The bell boy held out a long box, and I was surprised by the note on it.
    Jillian, please wear me.
    Even more astonishing was the Jenny Packham dress I found in the box, a gown I’d hemmed and hawed about buying for months. Even though I’ve lusted after her fashions since those early days when Kate Middleton stunned the world in them, I simply couldn’t find an occasion to justify the cost. And yet, there it was, in all of its shimmering blue splendour. Evan later told me he figured I’d get some mileage out of it with all the pre-wedding hullabaloo. He was right!
    After I let the supple fabric run through my fingers a few times, and the shock of the moment abated, I took another look around the room. That’s when a few things sank in. First of all, there was a total lack of personal items. Nothing in the bathroom to indicate a woman had lived there for the past three nights. Then I noticed the roses. Dozens of them in vases throughout the rooms. And one single pink rose on the pillow with a note.
    It read: Call the front desk. I’ll see you at 6.
    Another look at the writing and things started to make sense. Evan’s the only person I know with that scrawl.
    A quick call and my bags were brought to the suite. By five to six I was showered and dressed and as curious as hell. Promptly at six, two things happened. First, room service showed up and began setting an elaborate table. And, not at all unexpectedly, Evan strolled though the door looking like he’d stepped out of a magazine. A black suit hugged his towering frame, drawing tight in all the places where his physical labour had created well-sculpted muscles. He was clean shaven, a rare treat indeed, and his light brown hair was tamer than usual. Simply put, he was the stuff fantasies are made of. Three nights apart might seem like a short time, but I flew into his arms as if it were a month.
    “What is this? What are you doing here?”
    “I don’t want to ruin your evening,” he said, “so let’s start this off right.”
    You’d think a woman who tirelessly fantasizes about getting engaged would have clued in by now, but honestly, when he knelt