Page 41 of Perfect (mis)Match

Vincent turned out the overhead light, and the room went dark except for the tiny bedside lamp. I felt his side sink as he climbed in.

My breathing went shallow.

Vincent and I were now inbed. Together.

And the room felt suddenly much, much smaller.

“I want to apologize in advance,” I said as I rolled over to face him, jolting when I realized a shirtless Vincent Forde was staring at me. He was backlit by the lamp, so I couldn’t make out his expression. “I’m a restless sleeper. I might accidentally end up in your zone. If it happens, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he replied. “I move around in my sleep, too.”

The air in the room felt heavy as we sorted through our sleep quirks.Howdid we end up here, exactly?

“It’s more than that, though. I might unintentionally…spoon you,” I said softly, the words catching in my throat. It was an insane thing to admit…but it was the truth. “I can’t control it.”

“Well, that won’t do at all,” Vincent murmured.

I worried I’d scared him off, and now he was going to go sleep on the couch.

“I like being the big spoon, not the little,” he continued, his eyes locking on mine, dark and unreadable, “so if it’s okay with you, let’s fix the problem before it begins.”

He reached out and gently clasped my wrist, then slid me across the bed until I was just inches away from him.

My breath hitched at the closeness, his heat washing over me.

“Are you okay being the little spoon?” he murmured.

My heart was jumping out of my chest at his nearness.

“I am.”

We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds longer as we grappled with the idea of what we were doing until I shifted onto my side and pressed back into him. Vincent draped his arm over me, and I let out a sigh at how perfect if felt to be nestled against him. The sensation of his body molding against mine was electric.

“Good night, Piper,” he whispered in my ear, the sensation of his breath against my skin sending sparklers up my spine.

I’d thought about this very sensation, hell I’ddreamedabout it, yet the reality of it was even better than I’d imagined. The weight of his arm over my waist, his body pressed closed against me—everything felt so right, so perfectly aligned. I was tucked against him like my body had been crafted to fit exactly here.

“Good night, Vincent,” I whispered, my voice shaky. Speaking was the only thing grounding me in that moment.

I tried to fight off my exhaustion so I could enjoy the sensation of being pressed up against him, but it wasn’t long before sleep won out.

Best dreamsever.

12

VINCENT

I’d never been happier to lose a round of golf.

As expected, Piper and Joe dominated the course. I’d started off the game ready to show Piper she wasn’t the only one with skills, but after two holes, it quickly became apparent she waswayout of my league. I forced myself to downshift to a casual golf enthusiast instead of a real competitor and spent the eighteen holes laughing with Jean.

Which was surprisingly fun.

I had to pat myself on the back—golf was a phenomenal idea. I wanted the Sullivans to feel good about the business side of our arrangement, but getting them to like me was a part of the bargain as well. While it was easy to assume the contract was a done deal, I refused to count my chickens around the Sullivans until the ink was dry. But everything truly did seem to be on track for us to sign the papers soon.

The next few days only solidified that feeling. Piper had worked her magic with the Sullivans and, after walking them through how respectful Summit would be of their property, they wereon board. I’d already sent word to Summit’s lawyers, and the contract was quickly whipped up. Now all that was left for the Sullivans to sign on the dotted line.

Yet, with the end in sight, part of me almost dreaded the moment. This trip had been a success by every measure, but… I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it to end. In just a few days, Piper and I had fallen into an easy rhythm, spending time together and sharing space in a way that felt natural.

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