Page 18 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

She laughed and leaned back in her chair, shrugging. “Maybe. I haven’t been on a date in a while. Couldn’t hurt.”

A gentle kind of grief swept through me, and I mercilessly beat it back. Sean was not for me. He never would be. The sooner I realized that, the better. “Great,” I said, forcing a smile on my lips. “That’s settled.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Laurel warned.

“Neither am I. And neither is he.”

She nodded. “Good. Let’s head back. I think I can face my computer again. Oh! And send me a picture. I want to see if he’s as hot as you seem to think.”

I grinned. “I’ll work on getting one,” I said, then gathered my things and followed her out the door.

The opportunity toget that picture presented itself just a few hours later, when I waited outside the school gates for my kids to come out. A black pickup truck pulled up on the other side of the road, and I spotted Sean's chiseled profile through the driver’s window. My mouth went dry.

Shaking myself, I lifted my arm in a wave when he met my gaze, then smiled when he made his way across the street toward me.

“I have news,” I announced cheerfully.

His gaze was suspicious. “Oh?”

“My friend is interested.”

“Interested in what?” His brow furrowed, and he watched me with green-blue eyes in a way that made me dizzy. There was something about being the focus of his attention, of being seen.

I knew I was torturing myself by indulging in this attraction. Still, it was hard to shake the giddiness of being so near to him.

“Interested in you,” I answered, laughing.

His brows jumped. “That was quick.”

“There’s a dearth of devastatingly handsome men in this town,” I said, which wasn’t exactly true, but it fell out of my mouth regardless. “Not hard to get a woman interested.”

“Devastatingly handsome, huh?” he said, leaning against my car as he crossed his arms. He wore a tan quilted workman’s jacket that was open at the throat. When he tilted his head topierce me with his eyes again, my knees went a little wobbly. “Is that your opinion, or hers?”

“Neither. It’s just a fact.”

Amusement seemed to glimmer in his gaze. “I’m not sure that’s how it works, Lizzie.”

“Are you trying to get me to admit that I think you’re handsome?” I leaned a hip against my car to stop myself from keeling over. My heart thumped a little too hard.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “Do you?”

“Fishing for compliments, Hardy?”

“Just trying to get a read on you.” His lips tilted. Oh boy.

I tore my gaze away from him and stared at the front of the school. “Let me ask you this. When you look in the mirror, what do you see?”

Despite my best efforts, my gaze was drawn back to him as he rubbed the side of his jaw with a broad palm. “Depends on the day. Few more wrinkles than I’m used to. More silver in my beard these days.”

I rolled my eyes. “Give me a break.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I turned to face him and swept my hand up and down in his direction. My eyes bulged. He was a perfect male specimen, and those wrinkles and grays only made him hotter. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Maybe I want you to.” That tilt returned to his lips.

My breath left me in a huff. “You’re hot, Sean. Okay? Happy?”

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