"Who is he?" My five-year-old daughter asked me without words-waving her conversation through sign language directly in front of my face.

"Hey," Mr. Nobody Really grinned at me with a sexy glint in his eyes. "Wanna dance?"

I glance over at the bar and find a group of guys with Fred Weasley in the center. All of them divert their eyes when I look their way—real smooth. "How much is the bet?"

James looked back to her with a small smirk, "You've got so many questions for someone who dubbed me a space alien."

Heat flushed into my cheeks and my eyes moved down towards my lap, "Sorry." He clearly didn't want to talk about it.

"Just who the hell do you think you are," I demanded, stomping my foot like a toddler.

"I'm an admiral in the Navy. Kind of a big deal and all," James teased, tipping his hat to me and balancing one hand on the tray.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes failing to resist a nervous smile