My frame sagged in my seat. Jesus. How could I forget how wrecked I was when she’d left me?
Given the years since I last saw Penny, what if she’d grown up just like Brianne, a woman who deceived and manipulated for her own benefit?
“No, no, no.” Casual or not, I scanned the screen and checked for any way to undo my click, when suddenly the message flashed on Penny’s profile.You’re a Match!
DARED AND MATCHED
Penelope “Penny” Fair
Penelope Fair: Small town girl.
Bank Account: Enough to buy my next favorite book.
Heart: Seeking true love.
Click on my profile if you’re serious about marriage. Must love kids and dogs.
What millionairein his right mind would click on my profile? It contained enough red flags to send most men sprinting.
Only when the notification popped up that I’d been matched, and saw with whom, I almost dropped my phone.
Archer Bellamy.
My stepsister’s ex-boyfriend?
I reread his profile three times. His photo filled the phone screen like a painting I couldn’t look away from, and I was eighteen all over again, wishing he’d see me instead of Brianne.
The man who had blazed his own path in the world sat on a velvet couch, arms wide, ankle crossed over a knee. With his tie loose, collar undone, hair styled, and scruff darkening his jaw, his smoldering look caught me by surprise.
What happened to the glasses he used to wear? Gone.
Every detail stopped me, in a way that made my lungs forget their job. The lanky geek my stepsister dated had grown into a devastatingly handsome man.
The image pulled me back to the night of Brianne’s grad school graduation. After they had had a fight, she stormed away. Later, Archer showed up here to grovel. We’d sat on the steps of this very house, me hopelessly infatuated, wishing I could tell him,Don’t go back to her. She treated you horribly.
Why would he listen to me, though? I was the invisible stepsister, way too young for him, and definitely too naïve for my own good. Still, I’d never forgotten the way we talked that night about buildings of all things, just to pass the time.
While on the inside he must have been heartbroken waiting for Breanne to show, on the outside his face lit up, pointing out cornices and moldings on the buildings around us that most people never noticed.
He hooked me. To this day, I couldn’t walk the city without looking up, noticing dentil molding on a historical structure, and thinking of him.
“Did you get a match on that app?” Aunt Brier’s voice snapped me back.
She was curled too close beside me on the couch, what with her beloved Goldie dog taking up room on the other side of her, his head in her lap, snoozing away to the clicks of her crochet hook and fingers. Wheel of Fortune played on the TV, yet she hardly noticed, intent on tonight’s project involving pink variegated yarn penises. Don’t ask me how, but she sold plenty online and at the doggie daycare she owned.
The app in question wasMinted & Matched, the one she’d read about in the Times when they interviewed the man who founded it. We both joined just for fun on a dare, never expecting anything.
“Well, yes, and no. Look.” I shoved my phone under her nose.
Her gasp was immediate. “Is that…?”
“Archer. Yes. Only older now.”
“He certainly grew to be easy on the eyes. I always liked him. Never understood what he saw in Brianne.” She flicked her crochet needle against my phone to shoo it away and bent the yarn back into submission. “The day your mother divorced her father should be a national holiday. Too much drama in that family.”
I forced a shrug, pretending his photo hadn’t scrambled my insides.
“Archer…” I gazed at his face far too long with Aunt Brier side-eyeing me.
