Page 37 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

“No.”

“No?”

He swallowed a sip of wine and set his glass down on the counter. “No.”

There was a strange mix of relief and disappointment in my gut. The relief, I knew, was ridiculous. That came from the fact that I was attracted to him, and I needed to get over it pronto. The disappointment made more sense. I was proud of my knack for matchmaking, and I didn’t like misjudging the people I set up. “What happened? You didn’t like her?”

“She was great. We just didn’t click.”

“Didn’t click.”

“That’s what I said.”

I frowned at him. “In what way?”

He spread his arms in a slow shrug. “I didn’t get butterflies when she smiled at me.”

Snorting, I lifted my glass to my lips. “And does that happen to you often?”

He eyed me for a long second. “Sometimes.”

In another life, I might have thought he was trying to tell me something. But in another life, I wouldn’t be a woman who’d never shed her baby weight, who’d been left by her husband,who’d been relegated to default babysitter because that’s all anyone saw in her.

All the evidence for the past decade told me that a man like Sean Hardy would never be interested in me. Believing otherwise was just setting myself up for disappointment. Even after my divorce, when I’d most needed the support of my family, they’d poked holes in my self-confidence and asked me if I was sure I could handle life and the kids on my own.

Their questions were valid. Being a single mom was hard. But what I’d needed then was unwavering belief. For that, I’d had to dig deep inside myself.

So thinking about opening myself up to a man like Sean—no. Not a manlikeSean. Thinking about opening myself up toSeanwas a terrifying prospect. It was like digging up the foundations I’d spent so long building on my own. It was opening the gates and letting a gigantic Trojan horse enter right into the heart of my inner fortress.

I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable when I knew that the only person who’d be there to pick up the pieces was me.

I took a gulp of wine and set my glass down. “Fine. First date was a bust. But you gotta give me something to work with. Be specific. What are you looking for in a woman?”

“Up until I got strong-armed into going on this date, I wasn’t looking for a woman at all.”

I ran my fingers up the stem of my glass and studied him. “I’m sorry if you felt pressured into it. Truth be told, I felt pressured into setting you up too.” I gave him a small smile. “We can just drop the whole thing. If you’re not ready to date, you’re not ready to date. I get that.”

The relief sweeping through me became harder to ignore. I’d spent the evening distracting myself with the noises of the children playing, with taking on an ambitious gingerbread houseproject on a whim, with cleaning up the disaster that was made of the kitchen afterward.

But the truth was, I’d been thinking about Sean and Laurel together. A beautiful, attractive couple who made sense together. I’d imagined them hitting it off and ending up at his house—or hers. I’d imagined opening the door in the morning and seeing Sean’s hair freshly washed, knowing why he had to take a shower.

And I’d felt sick.

Maybe it was simply because it had been so long since I’d been attracted to a man. But I couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate man to remind me that I was a woman with needs beyond eating and sleeping? It had to be my brother’s best friend? It had to be the kid who practically grew up at our house, who ruffled my hair and teased me, who would never in a million years betray Aaron by dating me, even if he wanted to?

Sean let out a long sigh and leaned against the sink. He ran a broad hand over his short hair and shrugged. “It’s not that I’m not ready to date,” he finally admitted. “I think I am ready. Laurel just wasn’t the one. She wasn’t New Year’s kiss material for me.”

My gulp of wine turned sour in my mouth, but I hid it by swallowing hard and nodding. “Right.”

“What about you?”

I frowned. “What about me?”

“Have you dated since your divorce?”

A harsh laugh fell from my lips. “Me? No.”

“Why is that funny?”

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