Page 8 of My Mismatched Valentine

Both times, I missed running into her. Some would call that a sign I’d blatantly ignored by coming back a third time and deciding to settle down here. Glamma would admirably call it unwavering faith.

This time, she’s sitting at the bar chatting with one of the owners, Zac Ashburn. I’d be jealous of the attention he’s givingher except I’ve chatted Zac up before. He’s a happily married man with a couple of adorable kids. His family is all he can talk about. I envy the dopey smile that seems permanently chiseled onto his face.

Traveling to town previously might’ve been disappointing, considering I never ran into Maggie, but those trips cemented my decision to relocate our company headquarters. I knew within minutes the benefits it would provide for everyone involved. Jobs for hardworking, deserving locals. The ability to maintain the family culture and integrity my dad spent years building from the ground up—something we will definitely lose if Martin takes over and starts calling the shots.

Maggie’s plan, once the date she’s arranged arrives, is to watch our body language from afar. Another superpower she claims to have when it comes to matchmaking that can tell her whether there’s potential or it’s a wash. She’s promised to steer clear of the date. Not to interfere.

Except, there won’t be any date with a stranger tonight. Any minute Maggie will receive a text from the woman who’s supposed to meet me here. I keep flicking my gaze to the bar, watching her check her phone.

I spent hours answering every question Maggie drilled out of me last night. I particularly enjoyed the ones about sexual preferences in the bedroom—and other various rooms and venues I listed off. Answering that question made her blush so deeply her skin turned as red as her polished nails. I caught her staring at my lips on more than one occasion. She was panting by the time she ran out the front door.

The chemistry between us is off the charts. Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’d bet my family’s business that it’s unlike anything Maggie’s ever felt as well.

My phone pings. I pull it from my shirt pocket to find a text from Glamma. It’s a screenshot of her flight itinerary. I have yetto tell Maggie we’re taking a little road trip tomorrow evening to Anchorage so we can pick her up—I talked Glamma out of the train with a promise I’d bring Maggie along.Shepromised to act oblivious to my plan, but I know she’ll be putting on the full court press in her own way. I only hope it’s enough to convince Maggie I’m worth breaking her most important rule for.

“I have some unfortunate news,” Maggie says, drawing my attention away from my phone just as an email from Martin flashes across my screen. It’s probably another change order he’s proposing to the board. Another step toward erasing the important family elements and core values embedded into the business in the name of increasing the already ridiculous profits.

“Everything okay?” I ask, dropping the phone back into my pocket. I plan to deal with Martin very soon. I can undo any trouble he causes.As long as Maggie says yes.

“Your date cancelled.”

“Oh?” I put on my best disappointed face. No doubt Trinity Stark—born and raised local school teacher Maggie thought would be perfect for me—is halfway to Anchorage by now. She has a flight to catch. Jerry reassured me he booked her a first-class seat.

“Seems as though she won backstage passes to a T Swift concert in Seattle.” Maggie’s cute shrug warms me from the inside out. I hope to see it for years and years to come. “Hard to blame her for jumping on a plane when it’s an all-expenses paid trip to see her favorite singer. They’re even flying her first class. Isn’t that something?”

I take a sip of my beer to hide a victorious smile. I rarely use money to make things happen, but I’m in a desperate spot. Maggie can keep throwing potential wife candidates at me all she wants, but I’ll deflect all of them until she accepts it’s onlyherthat I want.

“Sit down,” I offer to Maggie.

“What?”

“There’s an empty chair. You’re allowed to sit in it.”

“But we’re not—”

“It’s just a chair, Maggie. Not a blood oath.”

She sets a half full glass of amber liquid on the table before pulling out a chair. When she’s my wife, she’ll never have to pull out a chair again. But for now, I don’t want to spook her. “Didn’t know you drank more than wine,” I say, nodding at the glass.

“Usually, I don’t.”

“I could have a bottle delivered.” I’m only half-teasing. I can make a lot of things happen at the drop of a hat if the occasion calls for it. In my experience, people are almost always willing to bend over backwards when the right amount of money is waved around. But it’s not the impression I want the locals to have about me. I want to be a part of this community, not some spectacle.

“I suppose you could.” Maggie cups both hands around her mug, nails tapping the glass. “What’s it like? Having more…. you know… than you know what to do with?”

“Not as glamorous as you may think.” I empty my beer glass and wave at Zac for another. “Sure, you can buy whatever you want. Go wherever you want. But the second someone knows who you really are, they treat you like royalty. It’s … kind of horrible.”

“Really?” Maggie laughs in disbelief.

“I’m a human being just like you or anyone else in here. I want to be treated like one. Not some god damn spectacle.” The last comes out with more anger than I intend, and I pull my gaze from hers, landing on her entirely kissable lips. The anger evaporates like bubbles.

She takes a generous sip of her beer, licking her lips as the glass reconnects with the table. “Then why are you bending tosomeone else’s will where this marriage clause is concerned? If the money doesn’t matter—”

“My dad built the company from the ground up.” Zac’s timely arrival with another beer grants me the opportunity to discreetly clear my throat. I’ve grieved my parents for so long. Longer than either of them would want. When Zac leaves, I add to Maggie, “I don’t want his legacy destroyed. Without me running things, it’ll be shredded in seconds.”

“That doesn’t explain why you felt the need to buy the biggest house in town.” Maggie’s loosening up might be due to the alcohol. She sets an empty glass at the edge of the table that suddenly feels much smaller. Both our elbows are planted. Both of us leaning in. Her shiny lips mere inches away. I drop my gaze back to them as she continues. “Not exactly the best way to blend in, or convince someone to marry younotfor your fancy lifestyle, you know.”

“That house was one of my dad’s favorite designs.”

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