“Owen’s a project manager for a tech company,” Ava continues, her matchmaking wheels turning in her voice. “He’s really good with organization and problem-solving.”
“That sounds fascinating,” Zara says, and I can tell she’s being polite rather than genuinely interested. Which is fine. I know I don’t have the most riveting job in the world.
Ava leans closer to me, lowering her voice to what she probably thinks is a whisper. “I think you and Zara would really hit it off. She’s single and has a great sense of humor.”
I glance at Zara, who’s now talking to Naya about the miniature horses. She seems nice enough, but I feel nothing. No spark, no interest, no desire to know more about her life or her thoughts or what she does when she’s alone on Sunday mornings.
“Ava,” I say, giving her a look of gentle exasperation. “You are aware of your track record with matchmaking, right?”
She huffs. “That was different. This time I have a really good feeling about it.”
“You had a really good feeling about setting me up with your yoga instructor, too. And that barista from the coffee shop near your apartment. And—”
“Okay, okay, point taken.” But she’s grinning. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I know you do.” I squeeze her shoulder. “But maybe focus on your own happiness this weekend? It is your engagement party, after all.”
Before she can launch into another speech, movement near the baby animal section catches my eye. A man is crouched down next to a small enclosure, bottle-feeding what appears to be a baby goat. Even from this distance, I’m able to see the concentration on his face, the gentle way he’s holding the animal.
“Oh, that’s Slade. Bryce’s best man,” Ava says, following my gaze. “And your roommate. Come on, let me introduce you.”
We walk over, and as we approach, I get my first clear look at the man I’ll be sharing close quarters with for the next two nights. He’s…striking. Tall and broad-shouldered, with brown curly hair and lightly tanned skin. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, revealing strong, steady forearms. There’s something hypnotic about the focused way he’s watching the baby goat drink.
When he looks up at our approach, I’m caught off-guard by his gaze. Dark eyes that take in everything and give nothing away in return. He has the kind of quiet confidence that fills a space without needing to announce itself.
“Slade, this is Owen—my brother and your roommate for the weekend,” Ava says cheerfully.
He stands in one fluid motion, still cradling the baby goat against his chest. “Owen. Good to meet you.” His voice is deep, with just a hint of roughness.
“You too.” I extend my hand, and when he shakes it, I’m struck by how warm and solid his grip is. There’s something steadying about it, like shaking hands with someone who’s never uncertain about anything.
The baby goat bleats, nuzzling against Slade’s shirt. He glances down at it with amusement.
“Do you want to pet?” he asks, looking back at me.
My brain, which was already struggling to process his presence, completely short-circuits. “Whom?”
There’s a pause. A long one. Slade’s eyebrows lift, and I swear I can see the corner of his mouth twitch.
“The goat,” he says, and there’s definitely amusement in his voice now.
Heat floods my face. Of course he meant the goat. What else would he mean? I’m an idiot.
“Oh. Okay.” I reach out and run my hand over the soft fur. It’s warm and surprisingly comforting.
“Do you want to hold it?”
“Uh, sure,” I say on autopilot and cradle the animal in my arms.
“She likes you.”
I glance up at him, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. “How can you tell?”
“She’s not trying to eat your shirt.”
Despite my embarrassment, I smile. “High praise.”
“With goats, yeah.”
