Page 39 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

Oh no. Definitely not. We werenotgoing there. That way lay dragons, and my sword and armor were unfortunately rusty as all hell. The wine in my bloodstream wasn’t helping. I deliberately pushed my glass away and gave him a flat look. “That’s not how this works. You tell me why you think Laurel wasn’t a fit, and we’ll go from there.”

“A truth for a truth,” he hedged, eyes sparkling.

This way lay dragons too. Oh boy. Apparently I was in a mood for danger, because I said, “He’s got to like kids. Not just tolerate them. He’s got to know that my kids mean everything. If the kids don’t like him, he’s out.”

Sean inclined his head. “She has to know how to laugh at herself.”

I reared back. “And Laurel doesn’t? Her middle name is self-deprecation!”

“I wasn’t talking about Laurel,” Sean answered, grinning. “I told you. There was no spark.”

“She’s hot. How could there be no spark?”

He shrugged, his gaze holding mine. “There just wasn’t, Lizzie.”

There were a whole lot of sparks in the pit of my stomach when he said my name in that low, rumbly voice. I wrestled myself back under control and went through my mental list of potential matches. Cindy had been my second choice for him. “Okay. How do you feel about dating a single mom?”

His eyes never left mine when he said, “I’m open to it.”

The sparks turned into a full-on inferno and moved between my legs. Uh-oh.

I forced myself to nod in a businesslike manner. “Good. Give me something else.”

“You first.”

“This isn’t how this works, Sean.”

His smile widened as he swirled his wine in his glass. “What if I like it when your cheeks get all red and flushed?”

Hehadto stop saying things like that to me. I was getting all kinds of ideas that would only lead me to a sad, broken heart later on. I tried to glare at him. “I hate my cheeks.”

He jerked. “What? Why? I love your cheeks.”

I blinked rapidly and felt the prickling of even more blood flowing into my face. “Stop it, Sean. You’re being very difficult.” I needed to get this conversation back on track. “Okay. How about you tell me about the last woman you were attracted to?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he took a sip of his wine and stared at the glass for a while before finally meeting my gaze. “She was kind. Thoughtful. Really funny without even trying. Sometimes I felt like I was the only one who noticed her, which made me feel like I was carrying this illicit secret around with me all the time.”

My heart thumped. Part of me felt like he was describing me. But most of me just felt sad that I was so hopelessly attracted to a man who obviously would never date me. Why else would he be asking me to set him up with other women?

Kind and funny without trying. I focused on his words, and an idea sparked. “You should meet Astrid,” I forced myself to say.

He was quiet for a second, then seemed a bit resigned when he inclined his head and said, “Tell me about her.”

EIGHTEEN

SEAN

I pokedmy head into the boys’ bedroom to find them both sleeping soundly, then left Lizzie’s house about an hour later. She walked me to the front door and gave me one of her soft, irresistible smiles, and I realized I didn’t want to leave at all.

But leave I did, and I went back to my cold bed in my empty house. The date had been a bust, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from going over to Lizzie’s afterward.

I knew I was playing with fire, and I didn’t care.

So, the next morning, my feet carried me back to Lizzie’s doorstep with a bag full of gingerbread house decorations and a tray with two coffees balanced in one hand.

Hazel flung the door open. “Mo-om! Sean’s here!”

She took off at a sprint before I could say anything, and I took the open door as an invitation. Lizzie’s head appeared at the end of the hall, her hair in wild disarray, her cheeks red with laughter or exertion or both. Her smile drew me like a magnet, and I found myself in the kitchen without ever really remembering walking there.

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