“So your matchmaking skills are a questionable thing.”
I sit up with narrowed eyes. “I’m the best in this city.”
He grins. “Good to know.”
I sense challenge in his voice so I don’t let it go. “Seriously! I have more marriages than Willow, who owns the company, and her sister, combined. I’m like a super matchmaker.”
“One who doesn’t believe in romance?”
I sigh and pull the blanket up to cover my chest. “Okay, if we
’re talking about me, that’s different. In my experience, romance is fleeting. It comes and goes and people claim they’re always searching for it. But it’s not something you find, it’s something you work for. I want love. I want a guy who looks at me twenty years down the road and thinks I’m cute with my hair turning gray and my wrinkly face. Romance is this …” I lean down and kiss him, “… feeling in your chest.”
His hand comes up, tangling in my hair, and then he pulls me back to his mouth. He kisses me reverently and I feel it in my toes. “Romance isn’t bad.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s not, but love makes your heart race and it is a simmer that doesn’t ever fully go out.”
Our eyes stay on each other’s. My chest is tight as we both are silent, but I feel like he’s saying something anyway. Before I can search too deep, he releases me. I sink back against his chest, not wanting to think about what that was.
Michael clears his throat. “Okay, so brother, work, and parents are covered. What else should I know?”
“Hmm.” I use this time to compose myself. “I’m a Scorpio, I like horribly cheesy Christmas movies, I love guys who rescue girls with trees.”
His laughter vibrates against my skin. “I like girls who need rescuing.”
“Ahh, so you’re a Romeo type?”
“I’m not sure I’m a type at all.”
“Everyone is a type,” I tell him.
Then I sit up and study him. Now that my libido is a little in check, I look at Michael as I would a client. How would I match him? Maybe this is the approach I should take on dating. Leave the emotions and that lusty goodness out and start to be analytical, the way I would if I were helping a client.
This thought has merit.
“Why do you look like you’re about to dissect me?”
I grin. “Would you let me try?” And then I realize that he probably isn’t thinking the same meaning as I am. “I mean, let me look at you not just as the guy who gave me not one but two fantastic orgasms, but as a potential match for someone.”
“I’m going to regret this.”
“Probably, but it’ll be fun.”
“You know, you’re the second woman today who has tried to set me up.” Michael shakes his head.
“Really?”
“Yeah, my sister, Laura—that’s whose house I was supposed to be at—said there was some girl coming that was”—he air quotes—“just perfect.”
“No way!” I laugh. “Willow, who, err, interrupted us earlier, was trying to do the same. She wanted to drag me to some work party of her fiancé, Reid.”
Michael looks at me a little funny, like he just smelled something weird. “Reid? You said—you said Willow’s fiancé is named Reid?”
“Yes.” I cock my head to one side, recalling something he mentioned a moment ago. “And did you say your sister’s name is Laura?”
“Yeah.”
Chills sweep down my arms, although I’m not cold. “Is your …” I clear my throat, thinking back to what Willow said. “Is your sister’s last name Thompson, by any chance?”