Meeting His Match (Single In the City 1)

“Do you want this to end? Could you honestly say goodbye to me right here, right now, and have no regrets, to walk away and never look back?”

She bit her trembling lip.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, then pressed his mouth to hers.

He parted her lips with his. She tasted of champagne, and he felt the pounding of her heart against his own as he drew her closer, one hand on the back of her head. If she wouldn’t listen, he’d show her. He’d convey with his lips what he couldn’t with words, unravel her fear and all her doubt bit by bit.

But it wasn’t enough. Maybe he wasn’t enough because he sensed her pull away in the moment before she placed her palm against his chest and took a step back, breaking their connection.

Breathless, Marti’s chest heaved as she wrung her hands out in front of her. Her blue eyes glittered under the moonlight, and he wished he knew what she was thinking.

The air grew thick between them. When she finally spoke, her voice vibrated with emotion. “You act like my silence is an admission when I’ve said nothing.”

“We both know the truth. I felt it last night when we kissed.”

“It was just a kiss!” she screamed, and his heart lurched. Several people turned and stared, eyes wide, wine glasses paused at their lips.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing, and I’ll let this go.”

She blinked up at him, her mouth opening without a sound.

“Tell me.” His spine stiffened. “It wasn’t just a kiss,” he breathed and stepped closer. He ran his hands over her arms, leaning in and speaking softly into her ear. “It was lips, and breath, and skin, and touch. It was soft murmurs and sighs and unspoken promises. That kiss spoke volumes.”

His eyes searched hers. His instincts had never let him down, and everything inside him told him that Marti felt the same way. “That kiss was everything. And if you weren’t such a coward, you’d admit it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MARTI

MARTI SLUMPED NEXT to discarded shoeboxes in the freebie closet. She’d tried on every single pair, including a pair of gorgeous, thigh-high boots, and she still didn’t feel any better. The last time Marti spent this much time talking in here to the girls was when Mel’s parents contemplated retiring down south and she had an epic meltdown.

Marti’s thoughts pinged on Logan, the pain in his eyes as he walked away.

“We’ve tried chocolate and shoes. Nothing’s working. I’m at a loss.” Caroline threw her hands up, as if Marti weren’t in the room.

“I’m sitting right here.” Marti pointed at her chest.

“Marti.” Mel moved to sit across from her. “If you’re this upset, then maybe you should talk to him again, or talk to Blue. Tell her you won’t do it.” She sat cross-legged in front of Marti amid a pile of shoes.

Marti snorted. “And lose my job?”

“Or not. I can’t imagine Blue would risk losing you. She said it herself, you write the most popular digital column by far. No one has a cult following like you. She knows you will take your readers wherever you go from here.”

“I know, but what about her ‘taking matters into her own hands’?” Marti said, making air quotes with her fingers.

Caroline shrugged. “What could she possibly do? It’s not like she can write the article for you, and she can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to in your personal life.”

Exactly what Logan said, but Marti didn’t believe it. Something told her Blue meant what she said. The woman was unhinged. She broke off her own engagement for the good of the magazine. She’d stop at nothing to tear Logan down.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I can’t be in a relationship. It would never last.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “And why not?”

“Because it’s me we’re talking about. I can barely manage to share my life with Fuzz, let alone a guy. I don’t do relationships. I never have. Think about it, I’m twenty-five years old and never had a boyfriend. The first one I get is fake. I’m a walking disaster when it comes to love. I don’t even believe in it.” Marti chucked a sandal from last season across the room. “Come on, Mel. If anyone understands, it’s you.”

“It’s different with me,” Mel said, pushing her dark hair away from her face.

“What? How?”