Page 19 of The Billionaire Love Match

She shook her head and laughed nervously, tossing her dark hair over one shoulder. “Oh, right. Sorry. It just feels like this is more of a first meeting than last night was.”

“You’re right,” he said. He stuck out his hand now, grinning. She shook it. A nice, firm handshake. “Colt Woods. Pleasure to meet you. Tell me, Tessa— what’s your big dream?”

He wanted to gag at the cheesy question. But it was one from a curated list his mother had included in the back of his folder for sparking the kind of conversation that audience loved.

Tessa lit up and began sharing about the nonprofit she worked for, traveling the globe helping fund local grassroots organizations providing training to local people so they could build sustainable income. He was honestly impressed.

“So you’re a do-good jet-setter,” Colt said.

“I like that,” Tessa said, with a rich laugh. “I think I’ll put that on my business cards. Unless you have it trademarked?”

He laughed, glad for a moment that he didn’t have to fake an emotion. “You can have it,” he said.

“So tell me,” she said, her voice dropping. “What made you want to do this show? If I’m being honest, from the tabloids, you don’t seem ready to settle down.”

“What you read in the papers isn’t the whole story,” he said. He tried to make his practiced answer to that question sound natural. “What I know is that my current dating plan wasn’t working. So I figured I might as well try my chances here. It’s not much different than a dating app when you think about it.”

“True,” she said, playing with the rim of her wine glass. It was almost full and he would have bet she hadn’t been drinking much that night. She seemed far too clear-headed compared to some of the other women.

“What about you? Why did you choose this show?”

“I don’t have time to date,” she said. “And I figured that if I find the right guy, it will be someone who understands this lifestyle. You seem to fit the bill.”

She blushed and looked down at her lap. This was a perfect opportunity. Colt needed at least one more kiss. He felt a connection with Tessa, who seemed so different from the other more vapid women who had been much less subtle as they sat across from him, licking their lips and leaning forward as they laughed.

Colt moved next to Tessa and brushed her hair, which had fallen over her shoulder, back again. “May I?” He asked, giving his best smoldering stare.

She smiled, eyes flashing, and nodded. But she did not move, waiting as he cupped her face and bent to kiss her. He kept it light, but lingered, knowing he needed something for the cameras.

When he pulled away, their eyes met. Nothing like the kiss from Casey. But also not like the wet and messy disaster from Becca.

“Time’s up, I’m afraid,” Chris Haversham said, swooping in and taking Tessa’s hand. She touched her mouth, smiling.

“I hope we get another chance for that,” Colt said as she walked away.

He hoped that was enough of a kiss to satisfy his mother. The next woman had a nervous giggle that turned into hiccups. He could smell the alcohol coming off her in waves. That ten minutes seemed to drag. Mostly because he knew that only Casey was left.

As Chris Haversham led hiccupping Crystal away, Casey stepped up on the platform. Colt stood, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the grin that spread across his face.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey, yourself.” And despite his plan not to kiss her, he felt himself drawn to her, stepping close until their faces were inches apart.

“Wait!” Chris Haversham said. “I’ve got to call you up here, Casey.”

“Oh, sorry.”

A production assistant led her back to the pool and Colt sat. When Chris Haversham called her name, this time her entrance was much more demure.

“Hi,” she said. He noticed she did not have a drink in her hand. She sat down, close enough that their knees almost touched. “I’m really nervous. I’ve never been on a one-on-fifteen date before.” She giggled.

“Well, this is the last one you’ll go on,” he said. Her face fell and he realized what he’d accidentally implied. “Oh, I don’t mean you’re going home. I mean, I haven’t chosen yet. I just meant that the other dates will be in smaller groups. And after this week there will be only ten women.”

“I feel as though I have an expiration date stamped on my forehead,” Casey said. “Like a carton of yogurt or something.”

He laughed and took the opportunity to grab her hand, making sure that his pointer finger was hidden on the underside of her wrist. He stroked the smooth skin where her pulse was. Four short taps, then two short taps.

H-I B-O-O-T-S

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