The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)

“I’m actually a physician's assistant over at Roper Hospital.” Cool, cool, cool. Didn’t ask you, but that’s all right.

“That’s a great hospital.”

“Yeah? You’ve been?” He’s asking like we are talking about a hot new club that just opened or something. No way, I love that place! Maybe we could go together sometime. I know people who can get you one of the good gowns without stains on it. It’s a strange topic of conversation, but I give him slack because I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to find ways to keep me here talking and will likely want to punch himself later for asking that question.

I chuckle. “A few times, yeah.” I glance down at Charlie, and Garrett follows my gaze to the patch that says Seizure Assist Dog. A look of dawning hits Garrett's face, and I expect him to start moonwalking away from me at any second.

He doesn’t. “So, look, Evie, this is really forward of me and probably going to creep you out a little, but…I think you’re really attractive, and I’d like to take you out sometime if you’re free.”

If I’m free? Does he mean if my schedule is free? Or if my relationship status is single and I’m free to date other people? Because honestly, I don’t know. I mean, Jake and I talk every day, we flirt, we’ve sort of kissed a few times, and we have a date on Friday…but does that, technically, mean I’m in a relationship?

I cast a quick glance to Jo, hoping she’ll give me a thumbs up or down for what I should do right now, but her eyes are still glued to my phone. Useless. I think she’s even screenshotting text conversations to forward to Gary.

I look back to Garrett and do a quick assessment of him: nice, dark hair, well-trimmed beard, taller than me, a nice body, and an open smile. And overall, he’s not setting off any alarms that make me feel like I should ask a security guard to walk me to my car when I leave here.

But the truth is, all I can think about is Jake. I like Jake. I want to date Jake, not this guy. “You seem nice, Garrett, which is why I feel like I should be honest and tell you that I’m sorta-kinda seeing someone.”

Garrett gives me a nice-guy smile and nods. He then reaches into his laptop bag that’s slung over his shoulder and pulls out a pen. After grabbing a clean napkin, he writes his number on it and hands it to me. “Well, since ‘sorta-kinda’ doesn’t sound like you’ve set a wedding date yet, here’s my number. Call me if you find yourself in need of a fun date.”

“Hitting on my girl? Not cool, dude,” says none other than Tyler Murray after somehow sneaking up behind me and dropping his arm over my shoulder like he owns me.

Tyler pulls the slip of paper with Garrett’s number on it out of my hand and tears it in two. Because, yep, that’s the kind of guy Tyler is.

Garrett gives me a look that says I’m an idiot for dating a jerk like Tyler. I flash an apologetic smile, but don’t worry, I’m just waiting for Garrett to walk away before I throw my elbow into Tyler’s southern regions.

He knows me too well, though, because the second that Garrett walks away, Tyler jumps back with a big grin. “You were going to hit me, weren’t you?”

“Why are you saying it in the past tense? The threat is still real.”

Tyler is still very much the same man who moved to New York five years ago. He’s wearing a dark-gray suit that hugs his toned body. He’s tall with chestnut-colored hair and dark-chocolate eyes. And he’s still got the same smile as the devil. He openly scans my body and then raises and lowers his brows. “Well, shoot, Eves. You look even better than the last time I saw you.”

I roll my eyes and turn around to return to my seat next to Jo. “Go away, Tyler.”

He chuckles and tries to catch my arm, but I’m faster. “Wait. Don’t you want this phone number? I’d be willing to paste it back together for a kiss.”

I would tell him he could kiss my butt, but he would likely just treat it like an innuendo and say something that grosses me out. “Nope. Don’t need it. And now you’ve filled your douchebag quota for the day, so you can scurry on back to the vermin hole you climbed out of.” Charlie and I are weaving in and out of tables, and unfortunately, Tyler is keeping pace with me.

“Why don’t you need it? Have you finally decided to marry me after all?”

When I walk up, Jo hands me my phone and, before she realizes Tyler is right behind me, says, “Jake texted you something sappy again, and I asked him to send a picture of his backside.” I know she’s kidding, so I don’t press it. At least…I hope she’s kidding.

But I really wish that she hadn’t just mentioned Jake’s name in front of Tyler. It’s not that I think Tyler is some crazy guy from the movies who will kidnap me and stuff me in his trunk until I agree to marry him, but I do know that he’s enough like my parents to go to extreme manipulative measures to get what he wants. He’s always been that way. It’s why he’s such a good attorney.

“Wait, who’s Jake? Don’t tell me my Evie Grace has a boyfriend,” Tyler says, coming to stand far too close to me. He’s like a pimple. I just want to pop him—or punch him, or step on his toes, or slap him—but I know that if I do, it’ll just make things worse for my complexion. Best to ignore him and wait for the breakout to pass.

“I’m not yours, Tyler, and I never will be. Now leave me alone and find someone else to bug.”

“Come on, Eves. You know we’d be good together.”

“Do you seriously not think it’s completely insane to marry each other just because you own your daddy’s portion of the business now?” I’m asking because I genuinely want to know.

“I think it makes sense. You know this life better than anyone else. You know what it takes to be a good wife to a man like me, and I know that you look ridiculously good in a cocktail dress. So, yeah…I’m willing to sign that contract.”

“You mean marriage certificate?”

“Same difference.”

“Yeah. Go away, Tyler.”