“Lasted a year. Couldn’t keep up.” Jabbing a log, red crisps of heat tickle my arm. “Not huge on playing sports. More of a fan of watching them.”
Humming her agreement, she continues to look around, assessing. What is she thinking?
Finishing up, I offer her something to drink, and she accepts. Sticking with the juice I’ve got in the fridge, it’s no time before we’re settled on the couch. She’s got her legs tucked in before she’s pulling stuff out of her bag. A clipboard with some papers.
She wasn’t kidding about the manual stuff. When technology fails, she’s going old school.
Tapping her pen against her lips, I watch escaped curls of hair sway with the motion.
To think she tried to find someone for her, but no one matched. Had to be before I got involved. Surely, if that fate crap they throw around in their slogan were true, I feel like she would’ve been the first woman to show up at my door. This thing stirring around in my chest? This sensation? None of my matches made me feel this way.
Fuck, I’m not even nervous. It took me at least a week before I could share the same space with them without picking at my clothes or pacing. Here I am sipping at my juice, waiting to be interviewed.
I haven’t felt this comfortable around another person in ages. Not even the staff at the bar. That has to mean something.
Can’t mention it though, not to her. She’ll want to end this session before it even begins. Knowing confidently that I won’t find another woman who does this to me, I’ll just play along so I can go just one day experiencing something I’ve yearned for over a lifetime.
“No pets?” Hitting me with her first question, she taps her lips again. They’re nice lips.
“Had a dog growing up, but the loss turned me off getting another. Cats are the devil.” Sinking back, I drink in the crinkle to her nose and the small smile she tries to hide as she looks down at her paper and writes down my answer. “What about you?”
Now she looks up, surprised, like she’s not expecting me to be curious. Surely, the other people she’s dealt with have asked her.
“My parents thought animals were dirty.” Rolling a shoulder, she thinks about it. “I’ve kind of thought about getting one of those Persian cats, but they’re high maintenance and a terrible choice for someone who travels.”
Those are the long-haired ones, right? God, if they shed… Now that would take some getting used to.
“Hobbies?” Moving on, she glances around. “Let me guess, hiking, reading, and… woodworking.”
My mouth twitches. “It’s almost like you read my dating profile before meeting me. Well, I enjoy camping, too.” Watching her write, I notice her nails. They’re painted blue, but some of the paint on the nails is more chipped than the others. “You ever go camping?”
She laughs at that. “Unless we’re talking about school events way back in my youthful years, I have to say no. Slept on my trampoline all night a few times if that counts.”
It doesn’t, but I like the thought of her watching the stars long enough to fall asleep. I think I’ve done that myself a time or two. “You should come camp on the mountain during your free time. Between making matches and all that. I know of a few spots that are undisturbed.”
Her pen stops for a moment, and I notice her eyes flick up. “I, um, don’t typically spend time with my clients after a job is done.”
Ah, shit. The rejection stings, but it’s to be expected.
“You won’t want to spend time with me when you’re married,” she continues before tapping the page. “If everything goes right, I mean. Which, I think it will.”
I wish she weren’t so confident.
“What’s the next question?” Trying to move on, my voice betrays me, turning rough around the edges.
She asks about my zodiac sign, and before, I had to look it up. The corners of her eyes crinkle when I admit I don’t have a clue. Moving from favorite pastimes, or top three movies, she keeps shooting them out, commenting on her own answers when I ask.
In the middle of her next question, there’s a soft, low growl that is undeniably her stomach. What time is it? I don’t think either of us has eaten.
“How about we call it a break, and I throw us something together?” Already standing, I head for the kitchen. “Pretty sure I have some beef stew I can heat up on the stove.”
She’s behind me in a matter of seconds, and I’m quick to assume that if I can’t win her heart over normally, I may be able to do so with her stomach. While I’m getting ready to heat it up, she’s claiming one of the seats at the table.
While I wait for it to bubble and heat, I turn, resting against the counter. Looking at her, I can’t help but notice how good she looks.
“So, what are you going to do?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I can feel my pulse kicking in overdrive. “You plan on giving the system another go ever again? Be it relying on technology, or going out to meet someone new, the natural way?”
I need some kind of hint that she hasn’t completely given up her life forthis. I need to know if I stand a chance. Meeting her makes me not want to give up entirely.
