Page 51 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

I turned to see a redheaded woman a little older than me clearing the table at my back. I was pretty sure she was one of the women who’d owned the place since it opened a few years back. My blush was hot on my cheeks. “I, um. Yeah. Right.”

She laughed and winked at me. “Not that I blame you. He’s Grant’s new guy, right? Fiona—Grant’s wife—told me he’s been a godsend.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” I managed, forcing a smile as I did.

“Grant didn’t mention he looked likethat, though.” She laughed, picked up her bin full of dishes, and sauntered off.

I let out a heavy sigh and shook my head. If a stranger could tell I was leering at Sean, it had to be written all over my face. I needed to pull myself together, or I’d be a laughingstock. Sean Hardy was not for me. Sure, he said he liked curvy women, but when men said that they usually meant a huge rack and a tight rump with an itty bitty nipped-in waist. That was not me. Never would be.

By the time Sean came back, I had my pen poised over my pad and had written the word “curves” as my first bullet point.

“So. I was thinking about this after your date with Astrid, and I’d like to approach this in a different way.”

“Okay,” Sean replied, sounding unsure. He leaned back in his chair, and his foot nudged mine. Neither of us moved away, and my heart definitely should not have thumped as hard as it did.

Focus.

“Tell me about your ideal day,” I said, starting another bullet point.

When I looked up, Sean’s brows were raised. “My ideal day?”

“Yeah. What would be the perfect day to you? Start to finish.”

“With a woman?”

“If your perfect day includes a woman, then yes.”

Sean rubbed his finger over his chin as his eyes took on a faraway look. I waited, watching the way his fingers flexed and curled, and reminded myself that another woman would feel those hands on her body, and that was the way things were meant to be.

I had a full, beautiful life, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself by asking for things that could never be mine. I’d learned my lesson with Isaac. With my family. With every year that went by.

“I wake up without an alarm,” Sean finally replied, “in a comfortable bed, with the sun streaming through the windows. It’s early, and I can hear the birds outside. My partner is beside me, and we take our time getting up. Coffee, breakfast. There’d be time for us to do things as a family, whether it’s a walk or a sport or just making a meal together. In the evening, we might have friends over—a barbecue. Lots of laughs. After everyone left and Mikey was asleep, we’d spend some time together, just the two of us. Slow and easy and quiet.”

My heart clenched. His vision of a perfect day sounded so peaceful and simple, and so close to what I wanted for myself. “And how does she make you feel?”

Sean’s gaze flicked over to mine. His knee shifted to touch the edge of my thigh, then moved away. “She’d make me feel like there was nowhere else I’d rather be. She’d feel like home.”

I dropped my gaze to my sheet of paper and tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “So your ideal woman is someone who likes a slow pace to life, who appreciates life’s small pleasures. Someone who enjoys a lot of downtime but isn’t opposed to entertaining and being active.”

“When you put it like that, it’s no wonder Melody and I got divorced. She’s pretty much the opposite.”

I huffed a laugh and jotted down a few notes. My heart ached, and I felt silly for it. I would’ve loved to find a man who made me feel at home. My marriage to Isaac had been fraught with stress and effort. We hadn’t had many slow, easy mornings and evenings?—

Well.He’dhad slow and easy mornings and evenings. I’d spent that time making sure the house didn’t fall apart.

“I’d also like someone I can spoil.”

I looked up.

Sean looked a little bashful when he continued, “Not necessarily with lavish gifts and vacations, but I like to do things for people. Small things.”

“Like the stuffing,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

His eyes were soft when they met mine. “Yeah. I’d like to find someone who appreciates things like that. With my ex…” He gulped and ran his hand over his hair, then down to the nape of his neck where he rubbed softly for a few moments as if to soothe himself. “With Melody, I felt taken for granted. I don’t think she cared about the fact that I made sure the coffee machine was prepped for her on a timer so she’d wake up to a hot cup, or how I’d—” He cut himself off. “It doesn’t matter. She just didn’t see those things I did, or if she saw them, she didn’t let me know that she appreciated them. If I were to describe my perfect woman,it would be someone who would appreciate that side of me, and maybe…maybe reciprocate as well.”

He stopped talking abruptly and shifted in his seat, as if his admission made him uncomfortable. Before I could stop myself, I reached across the table and put my hand over his, squeezing softly.

“It’s not unreasonable to want to feel appreciated by your partner, Sean.”

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