Page 5 of My Sweetart Holidate

“Yes.” His firm, quick response causes heat to creep up my neck. I comb fingers through my blonde curls, hoping to hide the blush. Hoping like hell the seatbelt band from earlier is still hidden under a solid layer of foundation. We’re the only table without wine. I can’t blame alcohol for this reaction. I’m not embarrassed. I’m… intrigued by his answer.

“Why?” I dare to ask.

“Can I get you two something to drink other than water?” Damn the interruption by the server. Things were just getting good.Or am I imagining this chemistry?We might despise each other, but that doesn’t mean he’s hard on the eyes. Even if I leave Caribou Creek without finding my soulmate, maybe I can still get good and laid. Then I wouldn’t give a shit what my cousin says when I show up dateless to her wedding. I’ll be too sated from wild, hot sex with a stranger. Who am I kidding? I’m here to fall in love. I’ve never been good at those one-night stands.

“Miss?” The server’s tone implies this is not the first time he’s asked.Oops.

“Whiskey sour.”

My blind date lifts an eyebrow at that, his gaze locked on me after the server has left to retrieve our drink order.

“What?”

“That’s… not what I expected.”

“Pegged me for a fruity cocktail kind of girl, did you?” I slip my phone into the purse beneath my chair, intrigued enough by the unexpected exchange happening between us to leave the emails until later. It occurs to me that I don’t even know this man’s name. “I’m Charlotte. Charlie.”

“Who calls you Charlotte?”

“My grandma, mostly. My mom used to when I was in trouble.”Charlotte Marie Long.I can hear her scolding tone giving each name its own emphasis. As though my name was three distinct sentences. Ialmostmiss it. “Everyone else calls me Charlie.”

The server delivers drinks and promises to put in our appetizer order straight away. The grouchy man across the table lifts a beer bottle with a Caribou Creek Brewery label to his mouth and takes a slow swig. What is it about those damn lips that has me so damn curious? My whiskey sour seems boring in comparison to the flavor I might discover if only I could taste those lips for myself.

“I’m not everyone,” the man says, returning the bottle to its coaster. He might look wild and untamed with his gruff beard and slightly wrinkled flannel shirt, but at least he knows his table manners.

“What?” I blink, feeling like I’ve missed part of the conversation.

“You said everyone calls you Charlie. I’m not everyone...” He leans in over the intimately small table, lowering his voice, “Charlotte.” The sexy timbre has my lady bits zinging to life. I’ve never heard my name said quite likethatbefore. The slight sizzle in the air between us has escalated into a full-blown electrical storm. It’s dangerous but fascinating. Potentially fatal but too captivating to ignore.

The craziest thought flits through my mind:Maybe the famous Maggie Parsons knows what she’s doing after all.

4

Kash

Charlotte.

She’s the first thought in my head when I wake the next morning. Theonlythought in my head.

I’m in my own bed and can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed. Memories of last night’s dinner drift lazily through my mind as I stare at the cedar planked ceiling debating how badly I need coffee to pull myself out of this haze. The longer the memory of her flirty smile urges me to stay in bed, the happier I am to be done with this bullshit matchmaking favor.

Maggie owes mebigtime.

I’d have gladly fucked Charlotte last night, good and thoroughly. Kept her awake until the sun came up with orgasm after delicious orgasm in her lush hotel room. I followed her all the way to her door. She pushed it opened, those flirty eyes tempting me to stay. Tempting me to ruin her for all other men.

It’s only by some fucking miracle that a giggling couple turned a corner down the hall, yanking me back to reality. I almost did it too. Almost stepped over the threshold. But Charlotte made it crystal clear over our main course: she’s here for love.

Something I can’t give her.

Which is why I refused the kiss her pouty lips begged for. Because I knew if I caved, I’d be naked in her bed right now. Giving her false hope about a future I can’t offer. And once she figured that out, she’d be a liability for Maggie’s matchmaking business. I’d have to move so far into the mountains that not even the moose could find me.

None of this stops the flood of surprisingly pleasant memories from rushing in uninvited.

My pulse doubles, like it did when I first spotted her at the dinner table and nearly bolted. If it weren’t for my sister hovering in the doorway, sending me the most pathetic, pleading expression, I doubt I would’ve let Charlotte even see me. I was expecting a disastrous date. Not one I actually… enjoyed.

Charlotte. I can’t get her name out of my head. I bet it’d taste fucking delicious on my lips as I came.

My dick throbs, raising the bedsheet.

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