Page 8 of Caught Stealing

I groan into the phone and try to be patient. “Carmen, I said I didn’t want to do this.”

“I know but we thought—”

“We? All three of you are in on this?”

“In fairness, Amelia was against it but we outnumbered her.” Carmen is on a mission, and there is very little chance I escape this without disappointing her. “I’m sorry we did it behind your back, but we knew you’d never do it on your own. There is an amazing man out there for you, and we just want to help you find him.”

They mean well. That’s what I tell myself when I close my eyes and try to chase away my frustration. When I told them about Rory, they cried with me. They threatened to break all of his hockey sticks and key his car. They’ve been in the trenches right beside me. And they’re probably right. “All right. I doubt there will be any matches, but I’ll look at it.”

“That’s all we’re asking. Love you, Lots.”

“Yeah, that’s what you all keep saying,” I tease. “Night, Carmen.”

“Night babe and good luck.”

Luck. Yeah, I’m going to need that for sure. I hang up and download the app, convinced there is nothing on it that I’m interested in.

Chapter Three

Andrew

I don’t expect to wake and find three potential dates already queued up on the app. I’m not sure I like the idea of scrolling through a woman’s personal information and choosing one like a puppy from the shelter, but I promised Owen I’d give it a try. Besides, if the women signed up for the app, they must know what to expect.

I can’t do anything without a morning cup of coffee and a shower to loosen my sore shoulder. Owen and his wife are a great match. There’s no denying my best friend hit the jackpot with his beautiful, intelligent, and bonkers wife. She had to be a little crazy to fall for him, but they complement each other well and their kids are the cutest. If those are the results one can expect from the app, then maybe I’m worrying over nothing.

Maybe this can work.

Goblin is already whining at the back door, so I let him out first then grab a hot shower. The entire time, all I can do is stare at the tiles and wonder what the matches might be like. I’m also doing the math and realize there is no way that three women can be just right for me. How do I choose? How does this magical app have such a high success rate if there are so many options?

My quick shower turns into a horror show when the water turns frigid. I dance around and try to finish rinsing my hair without freezing to death, but it’s probably good for my pain. I pull on jeans and a tee with the Sharks logo on it, my usual dress when lounging around.

Owen knows me well enough to know what information to share, but I still can’t help the worry that overwhelms me when I stick my coffee pod into the machine and settle in to review my options. The heavenly scent of the liquid life permeates the kitchen. I inhale it and swipe to open my phone. The app is relatively discreet, showing nothing that would indicate it’s a dating app at all. Even the name is unassuming—Perfect Square. Anyone watching over my shoulder might even think it’s a game.

Tapping on it, I hold my breath while the first woman’s picture materializes on the screen. At first glance, I can’t help but notice she’s beautiful with her golden blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s a chemist at a local university, wants children, and loves animals but there’s something about her that doesn’t quite bring the jolt of excitement I had hoped for. On paper, she checks all the right boxes but there’s no aha, that’s her moment.

The next woman’s photo is a quirky, fun pic of her with what I assume is her dog. She’s scrunching her nose while the boxer licks the side of her face. Judging by her one open eye, I see they’re deep green and she has long, wavy red hair. Sweet freckles dot her face in all the right places. I can’t help smiling and scroll down to her biography.

Charlotte “Lottie” Clarke is a high school statistics teacher who loves dogs and math, wants kids, and is not happy with her best friends for setting her up on the app and hounding her about finding love. I chuckle out loud.

“That makes two of us,” I say and scroll down a little more. According to her bio, she was born and raised in Savannah, would love to travel, and tries to maintain a positive outlook on life. “You’re a sunshiny one then.” My smile widens. I scroll a bit more and find a section that lists likes and dislikes. I glance over the dislikes—Thai food (she’s allergic to something), cats, cold weather, and a few other things that don’t concern me. At least, nothing that is an automatic no.

Her list of likes is longer, but my gaze zeroes in on adventurous.

Contrary to what Owen thinks, I do like to leave my house on occasion, but I’m not sure that I’m adventurous. I bite my lip and read further. She likes meandering walks, the beach, historic Savannah tours, and ice cream. Now all of that, I like.

Rather than hesitate and talk myself out of it, I tap the icon to request a chat.

Your request has been sent. Please allow 24 hours for Charlotte to respond.

I take a deep breath and head back to the kitchen for my coffee. Goblin scratches at the door ready for breakfast. Instead of letting him in, I step out onto the patio to get a little fresh air. He runs around me in a circle and darts toward his playset for a few rounds of sliding.

Trying to imagine a woman in this scenario is difficult, but it isn’t unwelcome. Baseball can’t be all there is to life, and now that I’m probably at retirement, I want to explore the rest of my life with someone. Not only that, I want to root for someone whose sweaty socks aren’t thrown at my head every week. My teammates are great, mostly, but a group of men gets old after a while. I want a friend, a companion who rounds this all out. Someone who makes it…better.

My dog scratches the door again to remind me he’s hungry.

“Okay, let’s go eat breakfast and we’ll go for a walk.” It’s too hot and humid already, but there is little else to do with my free time. I can’t practice, can’t play, and sitting around all day, contemplating my future, is not my idea of a fun time. Besides, I’m still on the pity train, and it’s time it left the station and set its sights on a new route.

Goblin trots to his bowl and wags his bushy tail while doing a prancy dance. The dog is way too spoiled, but since he’s my only companion, I let him get away with almost anything.

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