“Because look at you, justsharingall this stuff, and now I’m actually getting to know you better,” he says, a little triumphant.
Deservedly so, since hedidjust slide in that little Isla assessment when I wasn’t expecting it. “You’re so sneaky,” I say, since his gamesmanship is on point.
“Yeah. Who knewIcould actually beyourmatchmaker? I mean, isn’t that part of our original bet? I get to find a date for you for the matchmaking showcase.”
I hold up a finger. “If I lose.”
“When I win,” he corrects smoothly. “So now I’ll just have to make sure you find a guy who’s into all the same things you are.”
“I thought you were going to set me up with some guy who can’t even drive. Or, like, adude browho only talks about fantasy football. Now you’re actually going to find someoneperfectfor me? I’m excited.” I challenge him with a bright, wide grin.
He growls. Not in a jokey way. In a deep, frustrated,primalkind of way.
It’s the sound he made the first night at the bar. The same one at the bookstore.
And—I realize, as my pulse speeds—I like the sound.A lot.
The only solution is to toss a barb back at him. “It’ll betough though, since you don’t even know what I want in a date.”
“Tell me then,” he says, surprising me.
I didn’t expect him to actually ask. Or really, demand. While I could give him a flippant answer, likeI want someone tall, ripped, and opinionated, I opt for the unvarnished truth. It’ll make it easier for him to be truthful with me if I am with him. “I’m not looking for romance right now, but if I were, my big three are…someone who makes time for me, listens to me, and isn’t afraid to say he’s sorry.”
Basically, the opposite of my ex. I keep that part to myself though. I’m not sure I’m ready to be that vulnerable, with Rowan or anyone.
He nods thoughtfully, seeming to take that in. “You deserve that,” he says, a plain and simple answer.
“Thanks,” I say, and he holds my gaze for a few more seconds, his eyes pensive.
Until, an evil smile takes over. “If he’s all those things, plus he reeks of old sneakers and chews like a cow, and clips his toenails on planes, you’d still want him?”
I narrow my eyes. “You reallyaregoing to make me pay if you have to find a date for me, aren’t you?”
He steps closer and runs a fingertip down my nose—light, teasing, but somehow devastating. My stomach flips from that simple touch, and I roll my lips together to seal in a soft sigh. “But I thought there wasn’t a chance you would lose,” he murmurs, his voice a low, smoky whisper.
A shiver races through me. Again. Images of him pinning me against a tree touch down. Then against the snow.
Shake it off, Isla. Shake it off.
I square my shoulders, trying to steady my racing heart. “Oh, I’m going to win, Rowan. I’msogoing to win.”
And if I’m going to win, I need more data—which is exactly why I’m here with him at this tree farm. To get to know him better and then ace the matchmaking. I’mprettysure I’m going to pick the tree across from me—with its lush branches and proud height—but I need a few key details about Rowan to make my matchesfast. So rather than grabbing the tree and going, I say, “But don’t try to trick me again. I want to get to know you more. Have you ever thought about life after hockey?”
He shudders, like he’s in a horror movie. “Why would you say such an awful thing? Life after hockey? You’re mean.”
I smile. “You really love what you do, don’t you?”
“Don’t you?”
“Absolutely addicted to it.”
“Same here,” he says.
“But don’t you have to think about it?” I press. “What comes next?”
“Woman, have you ever met a topic you can leave alone?”
“No. Especially when I see that it’s kind of a sore spot for you,” I say, sensing something there—something worth exploring. Sore spots often cover up our raw emotions. And if I want to find this man everlasting love, it’s best if I know the good, the bad, and the sore spots.
