I didn’t see Sophie or Eva or my sister. Anywhere.
Then I spotted a familiar face smiling at me and against my will, my own lips pulled into a delighted grin. “Chris. Fancy meeting you here.” Then I realized that no, it wasn’t all that odd actually when you factored in that my dinner companions were nowhere to be seen. And neither were his. “Looks like we’ve been tangled up in another matchmaking scheme.”
Chris’ smile widened as he sat back in his seat and folded his sculpted arms over his chest. “Actually this is my matchmaking scheme.”
“Um, what? More importantly, why?”
He flashed that Cheshire cat smile and leaned forward, mischief turning his hazel eyes a sultry shade of gold. “Because I reserve the right to change your mind in any way I can.”
I sighed even though there was a small part of me that felt a little thrilled that he’d gone to such lengths just to spend time with me. Another, much bigger and louder part of me, shouted a reminder that this was dangerous ground to tread. He’d already changed his mind. Twice.
“Sit,” he urged, a hint of pleading in his tone that pushed my desire to stay into a firm decision.
“Okay. But only because I’m hungry and you’re buying.” And because the view was gorgeous.
“That’s all right. Sit because you’re hungry and stay because you find the company irresistible.” He stood, towering over me with a wolfish grin as he pulled my chair out and motioned for me to sit. “I’m happy to change your mind, Tara.”
“So sure you will?” I flashed a smile up at him over my shoulder because flirting with Chris was just so much damn fun.
“Not sure,” he whispered as he pushed my chair closer to the table. “Just hopeful.”
Honest and sexy. Maybe I should just place an order to go and save myself his inevitable heartache but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to because spending time with Chris was fun. And a little bit hot. “I can deal with that.”
“Perfect.” His smile was contagious and alluring and I couldn’t look away, not even when the waiter arrived with our menus. “How’s studying going?”
“I have no idea. I mean, I feel like I know the information but you never really know until the day of the exam, which is next week.” It was hard not to stress about the test that had taken up the past month and a half of my life, but I felt confident. “I think I’ll be fine. Honestly.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I can’t wait to see you in skintight jeans and a sexy little blazer, flashing your detective’s badge.” His smile was flirtatious but I couldn’t deny the sincerity of his words.
“You think I’ll be working in skintight jeans?” A surprise laugh erupted out of me and I shook my head.
“A man can hope, can’t he? I see you skipped right over the part where you become a detective.”
“Noticed that, did you?” He nodded, a question in his eyes. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. It’s a problem I have that regularly leads me to disappointment.”
“Your ex?”
My eyes widened in surprise for a fraction of a moment but I remembered that Chris is a writer, a damn good one at that, of course he was practically an expert on human behavior. “Yep. That was the most recent disappointment.” Actually that wasn’t true, I realized. I hadn’t thought of him since my birthday and even then it was more of an excuse than actual longing.
“Tell me about him. If you want.”
“There’s nothing to tell, really. I thought things were going well, that he was about to propose. Instead he told me he’d taken a job and was moving to Wisconsin. A few months later he was engaged to someone else.”
Chris let out a low whistle and shook his head in disbelief. “What a dickhead.”
“I think so, yes.” It was an understatement of what I’d been feeling at the time but with distance came clarity, as they said, and I realized his actions were of the dickhead persuasion, not the man. “I think he did me a favor. I might have ended up with the wrong man if he hadn’t ended it and I suspect hat would’ve been worse than being single. And thirty.”
Chris barked out a laugh. “Try being divorced at just thirty-five. Sometimes it’s almost worse, especially that sympathetic head tilt people give you, as if you somehow missed out on something great.”
“That’s the worst isn’t it? How they just assume you’re the loser in the relationship sweepstakes?” That was probably the hardest part, the pitying looks. “I mean technically I was the loser but still.”
“Me too,” he admitted. “She left me, but it was because she didn’t think id’ be able to take care of her the way she deserved.” He shook his head bitterly but he didn’t seem to miss his ex or long for her. “She didn’t have a problem leaving her daughter in abject poverty, however.”