Page 11 of My Mismatched Valentine

“You haven’t even met him.” Though Andie hasn’t filled out my matchmaking questionnaire—even for fun—I was sure she and Dustin would hit it off.Or maybe you knew she’d say no, just like you wanted her toa devious voice mocks inside my head.

“I don’t need to, sweetie. Thanks for thinking of me though.”

“You get to snuggle husky puppies,” I remind her, using my super sweet voice in a last-ditch effort to change her mind.

“Did you say puppies?” The bells jangle overhead as Freya Reid waltzes into the store. We weren’t close in high school, but each time I’ve run into her since I moved home, she always has acolorful streak in her hair. Today, a bright red strand on the right side of her face pops against the blonde.

“Ididsay puppies. Super adorable husky puppies who need to be cuddled for socializing purposes.”

“Sign me up!” Freya announces.

Andie shakes her head as she boxes a couple extra Eat Your Heart Out cupcakes to go. I may have to count her out of the running, but there’s a chance Dustin and Freya might hit it off. Now, to fill up the guest list… “Freya, do you have any friends?”

The bubble of hope I feel is quickly squashed by the pang of jealousy running like lava through my veins. The sooner I find Dustin a match, the sooner I can be done with him and put him out of mind.

If that’s even possible anymore.

CHAPTER 8

Dustin

Ihaven’t been the same since the fucking kiss.

Iknewkissing Maggie for the first time would be life altering, but I didn’t expect to be completely knocked off kilter by it. All day long I’ve been scattered brained as hell. Unable to focus on the simplest tasks. Martin’s shady emails have been a blur. I was little better than a mute stick figure calling into the latest board meeting. I was barely present for the conversation with the estate’s lawyer, reminding me Glamma would be making the final decision about my fate intwodays.

I even tried to do the Alaskan thing and burn off steam by chopping wood. The last owner left me plenty to work with. That helped until I broke the fucking axe.

Maggie’s been ignoring my calls and answering with short, to-the-point texts. I barely headed off the coffee date she arranged atBlack Bear Coffeethis morning. Thank the gods Maggie picked a woman who couldn’t resist a one-day-only shoe shopping spree in Anchorage. Jerry promises that one’ll cost me a small fortune, but it had to be done.

Not seeing Maggie most of today has been absolute hell.

I knew I already had it bad. But to feel as though I’ll die if I don’t get to taste her lips again? What the fuck has come overme? If I’d just kept my damn mouth shut last night,notasked her to marry me, who knows where things might’ve led. Because one night with me—one night to show her in every conceivable way what she means to me—would seal the deal. I’m sure of it.

Instead, I’m stuck with a woman who’s dead set on acting as though nothing has happened. Maggie’s in overdrive mode, desperately searching for my future wife. If I weren’t so sexually frustrated, I might find it more amusing. I’m going to wear her down. Convince her that she’s not only the best choice, but theonlychoice. That’s been the plan since the night we met. A plan I have patiently executed for two fucking years from a distance.

But I’m losing patience.

I swipe keys off the kitchen counter, grab the overnight bag I’ve prepacked, and head to my truck. I haven’t told Maggie my plans about Anchorage, mostly to keep her from trying to set me up with someone in the city. With any luck, we’ll be on the road and out of cell service too quickly for that to happen.

She lives in a cozy one-story cabin that desperately needs a coat of wood sealant as soon as the snow melts. It’s the last house before the dead-end gravel road. Though she’s still within city limits, the mature trees on her half acre give the illusion of privacy. I cut the ignition, noticing an orange cat sitting in the window watching me. Assessing me. Determining whether I’m friend or foe.

Maggie’s been pretty tight-lipped about her personal life, but she has a tendency to ramble about Karl, her rescue tabby, almost endlessly. She shared with me Karl’s penchant for jingly things, which is why I brought an extra set of shed keys for his entertainment.

I’m hoping to gain Karl as an ally.

I’m unprepared when Maggie answers the door in an oversized sweatshirt and tiny little black shorts that show off her long legs. If I were a betting man, I’d wager my house that shedoesn’t have anything on under that top. “Dustin, I didn’t expect to meet up with you for another hour atMountain Prime. Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong. But we need to take a detour.”

“A detour?”

Karl hisses from his perch on the top of the couch. “Ignore him. He’s mad I won’t let him get drunk on milk.” She ushers me inside and closes the door, her body falling against it. The way she has her hands tucked behind her butt doesn’t help my sexual frustration any. It’s taking incredible restraint not to march up to her and pin her against that door while I show her pleasure like she’s never known.

“Glamma’s coming to town,” I announce, looking away and fishing the extra keys from my pocket. I dangle them in offering above the arm of the couch. Karl watches with cautious interest from the top of it. His tail swishes against the fabric once.

“Glamma?”

“My grandma on my mom’s side. But you can’t—”

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