Searching for Someday (Searching For 1)

She pointed to the right. "Changing area is over there. We'll wait."

His lips twisted in a sneer. Slade grabbed the clothes, walked out the door, and changed. With every minute that passed, his temper grew. He was a Harvard graduate, a well-respected attorney, and never had a problem getting a date. How dare they judge him? He was always open and charming on a date. He elicited information from his companion, used humor, and always listened attentively. Slade belted the jeans, shoved his feet into the shoes, and yanked on the shirt. Refusing to glance in the mirror, he marched out like a penguin on parade and simmered with temper.

"Here. Satisfied?"

Kennedy grinned like the badass she was. But it was the look in Kate's eyes that froze him to the spot.

Hunger.

He dragged in a lungful of air and drank in her expression. Eyes wide, she ate him up with her gaze, a feminine appreciation gleaming deep within ocean depths. Kennedy strolled over, adjusted his shirt collar, smoothed out some wrinkles, and turned him toward the mirror.

"Want me to tell you what I see now? I see a man who works hard but knows how to take it down a notch. A man open to the unknown, ready to be a bit vulnerable and give a bit of himself to his date. You see, Slade, I think your clothes were used as a type of armor. A suit and tie scream business dinner. Formality. But this shows your true personality and allows your date to feel as if you are as engaged as she is."

Slade almost snickered at her speech over a silly outfit. Until he saw himself in the mirror.

He looked . . . different. The dark jeans clung to his thighs and gave him a rougher edge than his usual polished look. The shirt was black and holy mother of God--pink. Pink cuffs and a stitched collar open at the neck molded to his chest. The shirt was left loose and not tucked in. The shoes were low leather boots that he never would have tried, thinking them too European, but they gave him an understated polish yet brought it up a notch. Without his glasses, his face seemed more vulnerable, and he blinked at his image, trying to take it all in.

He never wore jeans, but they were both comfortable and gave him a freedom he didn't realize he was lacking. In some half-assed way, Kennedy was right. He did keep himself distant in a lot of ways. His thoughts flashed to Jane and the steps she may be going through.

"Did my sister go through the same process?"

Kennedy's face softened. "I meet with Jane this week. We've had plenty of sessions together, and I know her vulnerabilities. I promise you, Slade, your sister is in very good hands. I would never hurt her."

His throat tightened and he managed a nod. Somehow, someway, he actually believed her.

"What do you think, Kate?"

Slade slid his gaze to meet hers in the mirror after Kennedy's question. A low hum buzzed between them. Seconds ticked by. The tension cranked another excruciating notch, until he locked down his muscles in an effort not to grow to full staff under her heated stare.

"I think he's ready."

Her husky drawl broke the spell. Kennedy nodded in agreement. "Wear this to the mixer. I'm going to take a shopping trip with you later on in the week and make sure you have a few outfits. Of course, it's on Kinnections, part of the package experience."

"I have to go, I have a meeting. See you Friday night, Slade."

Kate hurried out of the room.

Kennedy cocked her head and studied him for a moment. "Hmm. Something tells me Friday is going to be interesting."

Slade nodded. "I'll tell you one thing. Since I signed up, I haven't been bored."

He went to change as Kennedy's laughter floated through the room.

KATE WALKED THE FLOOR of the elegant Italian restaurant, satisfied with the backdrop for Slade's first cocktail party. The back room was reserved for Kinnections and the social mixers they tended to run on Friday and Saturday nights. Cosmos boasted great food, an intimate atmosphere, and a premier wine bar. The huge brick oven wall and high counters showed the chefs at work, a fun visual for the crowds. Her boots tapped on the polished marble floors, taking in the Tuscan decorations of bold red, gold, and earthy creams. She met Kennedy halfway to the back room.

"Is he here yet?"

Kennedy shook her head. "Sorry. Hope he's not a no-show. Those suck."

Kate tried not to fume at the idea of Slade wasting all their valuable time just to refuse the main event. Her crew put everything into his counseling and makeover and picking the right women. If he didn't show up, she'd--

Well, she didn't know, but she'd come up with something really evil. The image of his kiss mocked her thoughts and screamed her a liar. She wanted to do something with him all right. Preferably naked, dirty things that shouldn't be imagined. Why, oh why, did he have to elicit the awful curse/touch? She needed to be firm tonight and not get too personal. Kate bore down and focused. She was his matchmaker and had an important job ahead of her. Find him a love match and do it quickly. "He works in Manhattan, so traffic is a mess. Let's give him fifteen more minutes."

"Got it." Kennedy leaned over the bar and winked at the chef behind the table. Her generous cleavage caused the next throw of his pizza dough to almost miss. "Hey, darlin'. Any way to get a drink around here?"

His gaze misted over. Kate watched as her friend worked her female magic to make every man before her go into idiot mode. She grabbed her arm and dragged her back. "Give him a break, Ken. Go order your drink at the bar like a normal person."

Kennedy flipped her hair in artful style and grinned. "But this is so much more fun. And that way I don't have to wait on line."

"When have you ever waited more than five seconds for a drink?"

Her lips pursed in a pout. "Never, I guess. You're no fun. I like torturing the male species. Give it a try."

Kate pulled her through the restaurant and into the private party. "Behave. You meet with Jane tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. I'm taking her to the salon for the works. I think she's ready."

"Good. And make sure to keep Slade away from her. He's nosy and wants to poke around in her love life. The last thing she needs right now."

"Hmm, I'd let him poke me anytime. Anywhere."

Kate rolled her eyes. "You never change."

"Hope not. What fun would this threesome be if all of us weren't getting any?"

She was saved from answering by the sudden appearance of the guest of honor.

The room fell into a short silence.

Holy crap. He was beyond hot. He actually wore the outfit Kennedy picked out, his jeans cupping his ass and thighs in all the right spots. The black and pink shirt gave him an air of edgy sexiness women loved, and his wavy caramel hair was a delicious shaggy mess around his head, framing those suspicious sage-green eyes. He took in the room with one sharp glance, obviously taking note of the occupants and his dates for the evening. Assessing. Commanding. Lord, he had alpha stamped all over him, and a tiny shiver bumped through her body.

The other women seemed to have the same reaction. Their gazes lit up with anticipation and roved over his figure like hungry she-wolves ready to feast.

And mate.

Kate pulled her professional demeanor around her tightly and walked up to him. "You're late," she whispered. "Why don't you come with me before I introduce you to the four women I picked."

"You're not gonna announce 'Meet my millionaire,' are you?"

She shuddered with distaste. "This is not reality TV and not Bravo. We don't lead with money here.

Why, are you a millionaire?"

"Why? Do you want to know?"

Kate led him to the far corner, where the table of cocktails was already set up with various finger foods. "As long as you have a steady job you enjoy, we don't care what your profit margin is. Neither will your dates."

He snorted and eyed the table hungrily. And with more interest than he regarded the women. "Obviously, you haven't been in the real world. I'm starving--are those mini pizzas?" He ignored her clucking and dove in, filling his plate with a massive amount of food. "Can I get a beer with this? Or wine. Whatever everyone's drinking."

She crossed her arms in front of her and tried not to huff. "In case you've forgotten, this isn't the quick service dining plan. You're here to meet your potential mate."

"Right." He chewed heartily. "This portobello is amazing. Smoky and full of flavor. Perfect with the bite of gorgonzola. Funny, I've never heard of this place. Want to try one?"

"No. Let's go over the rules again, shall we?"

"No sleeping with them on the first date."

She glared. "Of course not! Now, Kennedy and I will be here to help you mingle, and if you're feeling awkward at any point, just give us a glance and we'll be by your side. We can also help guide conversation. This is your party, and we want you to feel comfortable. You'll have alone time with each of the women, and then you'll let me know at the end of the mixer who you bonded with. Then we'll set up a one-on-one date to take it further."

He bit into a mini crab cake with homemade aioli and groaned. "Best crab cake ever."

"Are you listening?"

"Yep. The more I think about it, I feel like the Bachelor. I don't have to break up with any of them at the end of the night, do I?"

"Funny. Can you please take this seriously? These women have taken their precious time to meet you."

"Sorry."

"Now, you'll meet Hannah, Emma, Sarah, and Ann. Each of them have the look you seem to require, steady jobs, and all the qualities you seem to admire. Are you ready for the introductions?"

"Can I have another piece of bruschetta?"

"No."

He wiped his mouth with the napkin. "Fine. I'm ready."

She pasted on a brilliant, confident smile. "Then let's go, shall we?" He reached out his hand in politeness, but she pretended to miss the gesture and marched in front of him. No touching tonight. That had disaster written all over it.