Page 12 of My Mismatched Valentine

“—call her that. I remember now.” Maggie pushes off the door, watching Karl study my keys. “I didn’t know she was coming.”

“She’s the judge.”

“Judge?”

“The one who gets to decide if I’m in love with the woman I marry in two days.”

Maggie groans, her shoulders slumping. “A woman I have yet to find you,” she mumbles. Karl seems oblivious to her distress as he crouches down in a perfect imitation oflion in the grass, eyeing the keys as if they’re prey. “Does she know about this matchmaking arrangement?”

“Yes.”

We both watch as Karl pounces from the top of the couch to the arm, snatching the keys loosely dangling from my fingersin midair. He lands on the floor, batting them across the living room rug.

“So, what’s this about a detour?” Maggie asks.

“I need to drive to Anchorage to pick her up.”

“But you have a date—” Maggie’s phone rings from somewhere inside the kitchen. “Hold that thought.”

I wait to follow her until I can wipe the smirk from my lips. Another one bites the dust. I can’t remember what surprise my assistant Jerry came up with this time, but I’m assuming by the gloomy tone of Maggie’s voice that it was a slam dunk. I make a note to give that man a raise. He’s the only one in the company I know believes in my dad’s core values. He’ll be staying even if I have to clean house with everyone else. I might even make him VP after this is all over with.

“I don’t get why these dates keep cancelling. This has to be the luckiest damn town on the planet right now. All these women winning prizes out of nowhere. If Alaska had a lottery, I’d be buying a ticket.” Maggie slams the phone against the counter, narrowly missing a coffee mug that appears to be full, but not steaming. “Did I break a mirror or walk under a ladder? Karl’s not even a black cat.” On cue, the tabby arrives in the kitchen, batting the newly acquired set of keys. “I don’t get all this bad luck.”

“Maybe you just need a breather for tonight?” I suggest, slowly approaching her. Caging her in against the counter. Her breathing grows heavier, her eyes darker, as I place a hand on either side of her hips, gripping the granite ledge to prevent my fingers from wandering.

“Dustin, I already told you, wecan’t.” Her words aren’t as firm as before, and her eyes fall shut as my breath fans her neck. It takes every ounce of restraint not to touch her right now. Not to lift her onto that counter and pull off those little shorts. Glamma could still take the train…

“I could help you relax, sweetheart.”

A light moan slips from her parted lips, begging me to kiss them. It’s only the jingle of keys Karl bats against the baseboard that reminds me I have a plan. And that plan doesn’t involve scaring her off with a toe-curling kiss right this second. I push off the counter, forcing space between us, though the whirlwind of heat still lingers.

“Come with me to Anchorage.”

“When?”

“Ten minutes ago.”

“Whywould I do that?”

“Glamma has all the insider information you haven’t been able to pull out of me. That has to be useful, right?”

“Good point.”

“Oh, pack an overnight bag.”

“Why?”

“Glamma doesn’t want to drive back to Caribou Creek tonight, in the dark. She insists we get a hotel and head back in the morning so she can enjoy the scenery. Will Karl be okay for a night?”

“He’ll manage without his human slave for one sleep.” Maggie shakes her head at the cat who appears to scowl at her. “Oh! Maybe I can arrange another date. I have a large pool of candidates in Anchorage.”

Inwardly, I groan. Jerry’s going to insist on a holiday bonus. I’ll double it, of course. Outwardly, I force a smile. “You do what you need to do.” By the time we make it back from Anchorage, I really fucking hope Maggie understands I’m not going on a single date unless it’s with her.

CHAPTER 9

Maggie

“What do you mean there’s only one room left?” I’m certain we’ve heard the front desk clerk incorrectly. This is a massive hotel. Surely they can find two rooms on a weeknight.

---