Page 34 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

“Okay.”

“Here, let me fix your collar.” Before I could stop myself, I reached up and pulled his collar out where it had folded under itself. He lifted his chin slightly as he watched me, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow. The black fabric of his shirt needed smoothing on his shoulders, so my fingers went on a journey, feeling the hard, warm flesh beneath the weave of the shirt. When I finally pulled my hands away, I had a sneaking suspicion my cheeks had gone red.

“Thanks,” Sean said, and his voice sounded rough around the edges.

“Well. I’ve done all I can do.” I was getting sick of forcing smiles, but I gave him one last good one. “Have fun.”

“Call me anytime, Lizzie. If you need anything, or if Mikey?—”

“Go.” I put my hands on his shoulders and gently pushed. “We’ll be fine.”

He nodded. “Good. Good. Okay. I’ll, uh, see you later.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, and closed the door slowly but firmly. When I heard his engine roar to life, I let out a very long sigh.

Then I squared my shoulders and ignored the pang in my chest. This was for the best. Maybe if I repeated it to myself a million or so times, I’d start to believe it.

SIXTEEN

SEAN

Laurel had optedto drive herself to the restaurant, but she wasn’t there by the time I arrived. The hostess led me to an intimate table tucked into a little alcove in the corner, a tea light burning in a glass holder atop a crisp white tablecloth. She handed me the wine list and nodded when I placed an order for the house red. Melody had been the wine connoisseur. I didn’t mind the stuff, but I wasn’t able to tell plum notes from leather from the vinegar of a bottle that had gone off.

I ran my fingers over the edge of the tablecloth as I waited, eyes drifting from the door to the other patrons. The restaurant was called Dolce Vita, an Italian joint that handmade all their pastas and apparently had great cannoli. Nodding my thanks to the waitress as she dropped my wine off, I found myself glancing toward the door again.

My knee was bouncing, so I forced it to still. There was no need to be nervous. It was just a date.

But when my thoughts turned to the look on Lizzie’s face when she’d stood in her doorway, my leg began to jiggle again. I’d hated feeling that distance widen between us. But she was right to take a step back, to set boundaries. We couldn’t getinvolved. I couldn’t afford to mess up the only support system I had left. And she had her hands full with her own life.

Pushing thoughts of my best friend’s sister to the side, I studied the restaurant’s decor.

The walls were exposed brick, and a few Christmas garlands had been strung up around the alcoves and the hostess’s stand. Delicate music mingled with the chatter of patrons and the clink of cutlery and plates, giving the dining room an intimate, warm feeling.

They weren’t playing Christmas music, which I appreciated. My nerves were stretched thin enough as it was.

It had been years since I’d been on a date. After the divorce, I’d gone out a grand total of two times before I decided that my time was better spent taking care of Mikey and making sure ends met every month. Now, somehow, I’d been coerced into going on a date with a woman I’d never met while my thoughts kept drifting to the one woman I could never have.

The entrance opened, and the brunette from the photo stepped in. Her hair shone under the low lights of the restaurant, red lips curling into a friendly smile as she greeted the hostess. When the hostess nodded and began to head my way, I stood up from my seat.

She wore heels and walked like she was used to them. Her dress was fitted and a dark shade of purple, with a collar that skimmed the tops of her breasts. She was prettier than I’d thought when I first saw her photo, especially when she smiled at me and extended her hand.

“You’re the famous Sean Hardy,” she said. “Lizzie has been singing your praises for two weeks. And first impression: she wasn’t exaggerating.” Her eyes were blue and they twinkled with mirth. Her hand was soft in mine. It felt nice, but it didn’t give me that rush of adrenaline that touching Lizzie’s skin did.

But I wasn’t on a date with Lizzie. Thinking about her was counterproductive.

I huffed a laugh and took my seat again. “Hope you don’t mind I went ahead and ordered myself a wine while I waited.”

“If I minded that, I would be the definition of a wet blanket.” She smiled at the waiter who approached. “I’ll have a glass of whatever he’s having.”

“It’s only the house red,” I said. “Nothing fancy.”

“Good thing I’m not a fancy woman.” She shot me another smile as she settled into her seat, then placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her braided fingers. “So. I’ve never been on a blind date before.”

“Neither have I, but I’ve been assured that Lizzie’s a professional at this.”

“Set up half her family with their partners, or so I hear.”

A smile worked its way onto my lips. “She’s pretty determined when she sets her mind to something, so it doesn’t surprise me that everyone falls in line.”

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