Chapter 4—Wraparound Goal

The road trip sucked. The Sockeyes lost two and won one. Jared carried a lot of the blame on his shoulders, even though he knew the team wouldn’t agree. His game was off. He wasn’t seeing the puck the way he usually did or anticipating the next offensive move. He’d made a career as a shutdown player, a stellar defenseman who had won the James Norris Memorial Trophy last year at only twenty-four. Not bad, considering the hell his year had been thanks to Candy.

He wanted more than a defensive trophy. Not that he wasn’t honored, but he wanted the Cup. And he wanted it so badly he could taste it.

They’d dropped to third place in the Pacific Division after that brutal road trip. Half the team had been battling the flu and weren’t at their best. Jared didn’t have the flu excuse. Physically, he felt fine. Mentally and emotionally, not so much.

He wasn’t going through the trauma of last year. This year, his problems were subtler. He was frustrated without really knowing why. He loved hockey, but he wanted more. He envied the guys who called their families every night, talking to wives and children. He wanted what he’d never had with Candy. He didn’t think he was asking too much.

Jared arrived back in Seattle early Friday morning and found a message from the matchmaking sisters on his phone. They wanted to discuss a potential match. After a few hours’ sleep, he woke, showered, took way too long getting ready, and drove to their mansion. The closer he got to their home, the more his spirits lifted.

He rapped on the door, and Giles answered, bowing low, as usual. Jared resisted the urge to bow himself. It was contagious.

“This way, sir.”

Jared followed the older man past the double doors of the study where Steph had been working the last time he’d been here. The doors were shut, and he fought off a wave of disappointment. Giles paused at another set of impressive double doors and pushed them open.

“Mr. Roderick is here.”

“Show him in,” said Iona, the more flamboyant one. Agnes, the more conservative of the two, was gazing at Giles, and he was gazing back. Jared studied them with amusement. He’d have to be blind not to notice how smitten they were, a word Jared never used, but in this context, it fit.

Iona rolled her eyes and cleared her throat loudly. Startled, Agnes shuffled some papers in front of her, while Giles quickly backed out the door and shut it after him.

“Mr. Roderick, thank you for coming,” Agnes said stiffly.

Iona gestured for him to sit in a chair opposite them. “What is wrong with your game, young man? I’ve never seen such a piss-poor performance from you.”

Surely, they hadn’t called him here to talk about his game.

Before Jared could answer, Agnes interrupted, probably glad the heat was off her. “I believe our young man is pining for the love of his life.”

Once again, Jared opened his mouth, and once again, they cut him off. “It’s a good thing he came to us.” Iona gave him a pointed stare, as if assessing him and finding him in need of improvement.

Agnes focused her laser-sharp gaze on Jared, and he squirmed. These two were formidable. “You’re nursing a broken heart but still believe in the power of love.”

“I, uh—” Jared stammered. He could face down the meanest asshole on the ice without blinking, but these two had reduced him to a stuttering fool.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Iona asked.

“Of course, I am,” Agnes said. “I have seen it. The visions are unusually strong.”

“And very clear.”

“Uh, excuse me,” Jared said. Both heads swiveled toward him, and the sisters blinked several times as if just now remembering he was in the room. “Shouldn’t I be involved in this discussion?”

Agnes and Iona exchanged a glance.

“If you feel the need.” Iona shrugged and filled her teacup.

“What visions?”

“Impatient, isn’t he?” Agnes said.

“It’s his generation,” Iona replied. “They want everything right now.”

They were talking about him again like he wasn’t in the room. Jared sighed and wondered how Steph dealt with them every day without tearing her hair out.

Steph.

Thoughts of her brought a smile to his face. He’d stop by the library on the way out and say hi. He hated to admit it, but he’d been looking forward to seeing her all morning. He shook himself out of his stupor to find both women watching him with knowing smiles on their faces. Shit, maybe they could read minds.

“We’ll help you. Trust us.” Agnes patted his arm. “We have a potential match we’d like you to meet tonight for dinner, since you have a night off.”

“This soon?” He’d expected them to act quickly, but this quickly?

“Is that a problem?” Iona asked pointedly.

“Uh, no. Tell when and where. I’ll be there.”

“The Place at six thirty.”

“The Place?” The bar and grill seemed like an odd place for a first date, not exactly classy. Yet, thinking about it, he could see the logic. He wanted a down-to-earth woman who wasn’t interested in money. The Place was a down-to-earth bar with inexpensive food and drinks. His pocketbook would appreciate the choice. “I’ll be there.”

Jared stood quickly. He never overstayed his welcome. These two women were eccentric, crazy, or something else he couldn’t wrap his mind around. Somehow they knew about Steph. He was all over that. They could do all the scheming their little geriatric hearts desired.

He let himself out, and they didn’t even notice he’d left. Jared hurried down the wide, elegant hallway and opened the double doors at the other end. He rapped on the door, didn’t wait for an answer, and swung it open. The room was empty.

With a sigh, he left the mansion and got in his car. He had a date tonight. He should be happy. For some reason, he was a little down.

 

* * * *

 

That afternoon, Steph made it home from work without incident. No one followed her or accosted her. She hadn’t told Izzy and Vi about the threat she’d gotten. She should, but she didn’t. They’d hover and drive her crazy. If anything more happened, she promised herself she’d tell them.

She left Otto with Izzy and took the steps to her apartment. Opening the door, she shut it behind her and clicked the deadbolt. Only then did what she’d agreed to sink in.

The sisters had convinced her to go to The Place tonight, observe Jared and his date, and report back. They’d insisted this was standard procedure for a first date. While they usually did the observation themselves, they were committed to a charity event.

Steph was reluctant, but they’d made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Not only would they pay her double time, but Giles would drive her there and pick her up when she was done. She had nothing better to do that evening. No parties to crash, and she was between novels, having just finished one.

According to the sisters, she didn’t need to hide or go incognito. If Jared saw her, she could give him whatever excuse she wanted for being there, even the truth. They left the details up to her. The sisters were an odd pair, but who was Steph to question them, considering their success record?

Resigned to her fate, Steph pawed through her meager collection of clothes for something appropriate, not wanting to over- or underdress. Overdress? She snorted at the thought. She didn’t have much in the way of fancy clothes—with the exception of a few she borrowed from the Maxwell sisters for her party-crashing job.

After much fretting and trying on everything in her closet, she finally decided on a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her curves and a pink, feminine sweater. One thing about Seattle: you could wear jeans just about anywhere, including nice restaurants.

What the heck was she doing? She wasn’t going on a date with the man. She was an invisible chaperone. What she wore didn’t matter. Regardless, she was anxious to see the match they’d arranged for Jared, curious what kind of woman the sisters’ visions had suggested.

She’d have to live vicariously through the happy couple, just fantasize for a while. She was good at fantasies. In fact, lately she’d tried her hand at writing her own romance novel. This would be good research as to what normal people did on a first date. Steph had never done normal, nor had she ever had a real first date.

As a teenager, she’d watched other girls her age as they went on dates, attended dances, and drove cars. Her strict parents didn’t allow her to date, let alone go to dances or football games. And, God forbid, she wasn’t allowed to drive—and still didn’t know how.

She’d never forget the day she met Gino. He’d been hanging out with a group of guys at a park near the high school. One of her friends had begged Steph to go with her to talk to them. They were older, all of twenty-one. Gino had immediately taken to her, and she’d been flattered. She’d never had a guy pay attention to her other than a pimply-faced mama’s boy who could barely manage two words.

Gino waited for her every day after school and gave her a ride home, dropping her off a block away so no one would see. They stole kisses in his car. Shortly after meeting him, she did the unthinkable and snuck out of the house late at night.

Within a shockingly short amount of time, Gino became the most important person in her life, and the most influential. Steph hated lying to her parents, but she did it anyway. She’d do anything for Gino. His manipulation of her had been so subtle, at first, that she hadn’t recognized it for what it was.

She’d needed the distance of the past several months to look back and see everything with clear eyes. She’d been a fool. He’d treated her like a possession, and she’d gone along with it, blaming herself when he hit her. All the stuff she realized now was typical of abusers and the abused.

She glanced at the decorative clock ticking on the wall. Just like clockwork, she heard a car pull up. She peeked out the kitchen window to see the Bentley. Steph grabbed her coat and purse and did a last-minute check on her appearance in the mirror hanging on the wall. She looked okay, not that it mattered.

Minutes later, Steph settled at a small table for two, which gave her a good view of the unpretentious bar. The Place was rustic and funky. The cedar-planked walls were almost hidden by the enormous amount of Seattle memorabilia hanging on the walls, most of it autographed.

Giles had dropped her off only a minute or so before Jared and his date were due to arrive. Steph had wanted to arrive a half-hour early, but Giles hadn’t been available. While she had instructions not to purposely hide, she’d thought lying low would’ve been a good idea. By coming in early, she would’ve had less chance of being noticed.

She was nervous. This was her first assignment for the sisters, and she wanted to do a good job. She had a small notepad shoved in her purse to take notes of anything significant.

Her throat was dry, and she sipped from a glass of ice water. She’d never done anything like this before. What if Jared and his date noticed her? What was her story? She couldn’t tell them the truth; that’d make them nervous. She concocted the best explanation she could come up with and ran through it several times. She’d claim she was people-watching for a psych class assignment and hoped they didn’t want details about the professor and the school.

Surveying the crowd in the bar, she looked for Jared or a single woman who looked like someone Jared would date. She saw neither. Every woman in the bar was seated with others. In fact, she was the only woman on her own.

Jared was five minutes late. So was his date.

Seven fifteen.

Seven twenty.

Jared rushed into the bar, hotter than hot and adorably sheepish. He paused in the doorway and glanced around, looking for his date. He was dressed in a worn brown leather jacket, faded jeans, and a white button-down shirt. He looked oh so delicious.

His gaze passed over her as if he didn’t see her, then he did a double take. His brow furrowed in puzzlement. Tentatively, he walked toward her table. She managed a nervous smile, completely befuddled by his presence. The explanation she’d been rehearsing the last several minutes fled her brain.

“Hey, what brings you here?” he said as he stopped at her table.

Steph kept her eyes cast downward and sipped her water. “Just, uh, hanging out.”

“I see.” His voice was thick with suspicion and disbelief. “I was supposed to have a date tonight arranged by the sisters. I’m late, got caught up in traffic, and didn’t have her number to call her. I don’t suppose you know if she got tired of waiting and left?”

“I’ve been here since seven and haven’t seen one single woman at any of the tables.” She wondered if this particular match had a habit of blowing off dates. Maybe that was why the sisters had sent her, but it didn’t make sense. Why would they setup Jared with an untrustworthy woman? There had to be another explanation.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss her, even though it appears she stood me up.” He did another perusal of the bar. “Do you mind if I sit with you? There aren’t any other empty tables right now.”

“No, I don’t mind at all.” In fact, the big problem was that she actually liked it and him. She couldn’t. She’d signed an agreement. She didn’t want a man in her life. But she was attracted to him—hell, what woman wouldn’t be? He was so handsome that every female head had turned when he’d walked in.

“Let me try to call Agnes to see if they’ve heard anything.”

“Thanks.”

Agnes didn’t pick up. Steph shrugged. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure there’s an explanation. Have you been here before?”

Steph shook her head. “It’s unique.”

Jared chuckled, and his smile lit up those green eyes and did something to her insides. “It’s a Seattle institution. Funky and laidback. It’s been here longer than anyone remembers. Lots of the guys come here after games and stuff because it’s so close to the arena. The staff is used to seeing us, and no one bothers us much.”

“My kind of place.”

“Mine too. I’m not much for stuffy, showy places.” He beamed at her, and she beamed back.

“What is that?” She pointed at a thing mounted near the ceiling. It looked like a cross between a rabbit and an elk, not that she knew her wild animals all that well. The thing was brown and gray with long rabbit ears and a bunny nose, but elk-sized antlers.

“That’s Alan.”

“Alan?”

“Yeah. Alan. Decades ago, one of the regulars was a taxidermist, and he gave Alan to the owner, who was the great-great-grandmother of the current owner, as a gift and to pay a beer tab he’d been running.”

“It’s so ugly it’s—”

“Cute?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jared laughed, and Steph joined in. She couldn’t help it. He had a contagious laugh, and it felt good to laugh. She didn’t do it enough.

Her eyes went to Alan again. She did a double take. “Did that thing just wink at me?”

“He’s been known to do that.”

“Wink? Has he winked at you?”

“I can’t say for certain, but don’t call him a thing. He doesn’t like that.”

“He doesn’t?” Steph studied Jared, and he broke into a full-blown grin, showing incredibly white teeth. She cocked her head and raised a brow. “Will he come after me?”

“There have been rumors.”

She looked up at the creature. “I’m sorry, Alan. I think you’re attractive and sweet.” When she turned her attention back to Jared, he was staring at her like a connoisseur of fine wines trying to pick out his next bottle. Or so her romantic imagination wanted to think. Her practical side rolled its eyes.

He shrugged and held out his hands, palms up, in a gesture of forgiveness. “Sorry. You caught me. You’re very pretty, Stephanie.”

“Steph,” she corrected him. Only her parents had called her Stephanie. She looked down at the napkin she was twisting in her lap. She wasn’t comfortable being told she was pretty. His stare brought back bad memories she’d just as soon forget. Only he wasn’t leering like all those men had been. She’d thought she’d seen hunger, but there’d also been reverence, as if he respected her as a person and a woman. She didn’t quite know how to take that.

The waitress stopped in front of them, granting Steph a reprieve. The wiry woman appeared as old as the faded wood floors. She sized Steph up with an appraisal born of decades serving drinks to a wide variety of people. Then she turned to Jared and grinned.

“Hot Rod. It’s nice to see you out on a date.”

Jared made no effort to correct her and took one of the ancient menus in a yellowed plastic cover from her hand. “Good to see you too, Doris.”

Doris glanced at Steph one more time before giving Jared her full attention. “That bitch was in here last night with a new guy, third one in a month. Glad you finally came to your senses and dumped her.”

“Another athlete?”

“Yeah, but not the big money-makers. The last two were minor league baseball players. The poor bastards. What’ll you have to drink?”

“I’ll have a Moose Drool.”

“Why did I bother to ask?”

“Just being polite, I figure.”

She threw back her head and laughed as if he’d said the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “And you?” She turned to Steph and tapped her pencil on her pad.

“I don’t really drink,” Steph said, feeling as if she should order a wine or something.

“I’ll bring you Pepsi.”

Before Steph could respond, Doris hustled off, stopping at another table to give the patrons—obviously regulars—shit about the lousy tip they’d left last time they’d been in.

Steph gawked at her in amazement.

Jared touched her arm, bringing her back to him. Instead of removing his fingers, he left them resting on her wrist. “You don’t drink?”

“Not really. Maybe a glass of wine here and there.”

He didn’t look disappointed. Instead, he seemed impressed. He sat back as if he were settling in for a long, comfortable evening. “Tell me about yourself.”

Steph stiffened. The last thing she wanted to do was get into any kind of conversation about her past. “There’s not much to tell.”

He narrowed his eyes, not buying her story for a second. “Any siblings?”

Steph took a deep breath. And so it started. The moment she’d been dreading for a long while. Answering questions about her past.

She’d gotten relatively good at sidestepping and deflecting. She’d do it again, because telling him the truth was not an option.

 

* * * *

 

Jared had a bad habit of being late. He hated that about himself, but for some reason he hadn’t found a way to correct that particular vice, any more than he had his messiness. He was never late to a hockey game, though he had held up a team plane or two. His mother said being on time wasn’t important to him, and he was easily distracted by anything and everything else. He guessed there had to be some truth to her assessment. After all, she knew him better than anyone.

He’d gotten a late start this evening, then he’d been stuck in traffic. By the time he’d arrived at The Place, he half expected his date to be gone. What woman waited for a man who was over twenty minutes late for a first date? Not many of the women he was acquainted with. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she hadn’t been there. He was surprised to see Steph.

He had to admit that he was a little pleased and relieved to see her. He’d been nervous about meeting his match. He’d never liked blind dates, and using a matchmaker subjected him to multiple blind dates, but he was committed to finding the right woman and living the domestic life several of his teammates enjoyed.

Most guys who’d experienced what he had would’ve sworn off committed relationships for a good long time. Jared liked having a girlfriend and everything that went with being part of a couple, assuming his better half was truly a better half.

He’d find out on Monday what happened to his date and move on from there. The sisters had been certain they could find him a soul mate. He had to trust them.

For now, he’d enjoy Steph’s company. He liked her. She was pretty and sweet. Besides, he was starving, and he couldn’t cook worth a damn.

Realizing he’d been daydreaming, he sought to get the conversation back on track. “So, your sibs. How many?”

She was staring at the counter as if she didn’t hear him. His heart went out to her. She was obviously shy.

“It’s not a trick question,” he said softly.

She glanced up, met his gaze briefly, and looked away. “Four.”

“You have four siblings?”

She nodded. “Three brothers. One sister. I’m the baby.”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Eastern Washington.”

“So, you’re a Washington girl?”

“Yes.”

She wasn’t making this easy. Her answers were evasive and minimal. He had no idea why, but he was committed to bringing her out of her shell.

“Your parents? What did they do?”

“Dad was a pastor at a community church; Mom helped out and took care of us. Sometimes she cleaned house for my aunt’s housekeeping service.”

“Sounds like a nice childhood.”

“It was fine. What about your family?” She shrugged and twisted her napkin again. He was glad it wasn’t his neck. Not that she seemed angry, just nervous, but the damn thing was pretty much shredded.

“I have two older sisters who are a freaking pain in my ass, but I love them dearly, and a younger brother is in the AHL. My mom is a nurse. My dad was an NHL player. He died when I was fourteen. Got into an accident on his way to catch a plane to his new team.” Even now, Jared choked up talking about his dad. He looked away and swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

“I’m sorry.” Steph reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, actually partway around his wrist. She had delicate little hands. Her touch was light and gentle. He lifted his head and saw the compassion in her eyes.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Sometimes it feels like yesterday.”

She nodded and, as if suddenly realizing she was touching him, pulled her hand away and tucked it in her lap. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He wanted to tell her he liked her touching him, but kept his mouth shut for fear of scaring her off. He offered her a friendly smile instead.

“Tell me about hockey. When did you start? How did you come up through the ranks? How did you end up a defenseman?” She asked the questions in a rush, as if she had to get them out before she forgot what she was going to say.

“Lots of questions.”

“I have more. What are the team’s chances in the playoffs this year?”

“Touché.” He grinned at her. She’d turned the tables on him, and that was okay. He’d probably pushed a little too much; her family was obviously a sensitive subject.

“We’ll make the playoffs because we’re good,” he said, trying and failing to sound humble. They were good, and they were going to prove it to the world.

“I hope so. Can I get tickets?” Her beautiful face broke into a smile. She lifted her gaze and looked into his eyes. He stared back, unable to pull away, a little shocked he remembered to breathe or that his heart remembered to beat. The effect was like being slammed into by a truck, but instead of being in pain, he soared like an eagle, as if the moment of impact when his eyes met hers set him free.

Oh, God.

He’d gotten lost in those deep blue eyes, and the surge of emotions caught him off guard. He was the one who looked away this time. He rubbed his eyes in a fake display of tiredness.

What the fuck just happened?

“Are you okay?”

The voice of an angel penetrated his thoughts. How many times had she said that?

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m just tired. Long road trip.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should go home and get some rest.”

“I’m hungrier than Rush at a taco bar.” Everyone on the team knew Rush’s addiction to tacos, but she didn’t, of course. “He loves tacos.”

“I see. You didn’t answer my question about tickets.”

“Uh, tickets? Yeah, sure, I can manage that.”

“Thank you.” She rewarded him with a shy smile, and he smiled back.

They spent the next half-hour talking about their shared obsession with Hallmark movies and which ones were their favorites. He talked hockey, and she seemed genuinely interested. She talked about working for the eccentric sisters and dealing with Otto and had him laughing loudly more than once.

By the time Doris placed two plates loaded with burgers and fries in front of them, shy Steph was gone, and they were chattering away like old friends. Jared bent his head to figure out how to best stuff the thick burger in his mouth. He lifted his gaze from his burger, chewing slowly. She was watching him, and her cheeks glowed an adorable crimson when she realized she’d been caught.

Jared put down the burger and wiped his hands and then his face. The damn things were messy as hell, and he probably smelled like burger juice or whatever the fuck you called it. And onions.

Steph took a sip of her water. “This burger is incredible.”

“Steph,” he said, “as good as the burgers are, the company is better.”

She rewarded his words with another blush. God, he loved that. “Yes, it is.”

“I’m kinda glad my date didn’t show up. I’ve enjoyed hanging with you.”

“Me too. I’m sure there’s a good reason why she didn’t make it.”

Jared didn’t really care. He couldn’t imagine a first date going as well as this one was with Steph. Only this wasn’t a date. Steph was a friend. Yeah, she was a friend. He felt as if he’d known her forever. She was one of those rare friends he could tell anything—except his financial situation. No one knew about that other than his attorney and his agent. Not even his family. Especially his family.

“Agnes and Iona will come through for you,” she said. “I don’t think they give up easily.”

“I don’t either.”

“But I’d strongly suggest you be on time next time.”

Jared cringed and gave her an apologetic smile. “You got me there. I’m not good at timeliness. I’m spontaneous, impulsive, and, up until months ago, a risk taker.”

“You’re not a risk taker anymore?” She seemed genuinely interested.

“The biggest risk I’ve ever taken ended in disaster. I won’t lie and say I’m healed. I’m not, but I’m not going to put my life on hold until I’m one hundred percent recovered. I’m not sure I ever will be. Some wounds turn to scars and remind a person that the painful moments in our lives can turn to lessons learned.”

“We all have scars,” she said thoughtfully, as if she too had her share of scars.

“Scars make us interesting, three-dimensional people.”

“I suppose. As long as the scabs don’t get ripped off.”

He frowned for a moment, not really comprehending what she was getting at. He decided to let it go for now. “You won’t tell the sisters I was late, will you?”

“I should.”

“Probably, but you won’t. Right?” He gave her his best sweet-little-boy smile and puffed out his lower lip to make her laugh again. He loved the sound of her laugh and got the impression she didn’t laugh much.

Her cell phone buzzed, and she glanced at it. Jared was struck by how that was the first time she’d received a call or text. Most women he knew were constantly texting or taking phone calls. He liked how she wasn’t as tied to her electronics as most people. She bit her lower lip and sighed.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“My ride home cancelled.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“I couldn’t ask you. I’m sure it’s out of your way.”

“I don’t mind. Not at all. Unless you live in Portland or something like that.”

She laughed. “No, not that far. I live in the Blacks’ garage apartment.”

“As in Cooper Black?”

“One and the same.”

“It’s not too far from my place.”

“I should be going. It’s getting late.”

He checked the time on his watch, surprised to find they’d been talking for two and a half hours. “Let me pay the bill.”

“I can take care of my own.”

“I’m sure you can, but let me do this. You can pay next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, next time.”

“I don’t think— I don’t date,” she said. “I signed an agreement with Forever Matched. I can’t date clients. Not that you were asking me out or anything. I don’t want you to think I’m being presumptuous. That was stupid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you would do that. I just wanted to clear the air, let you know that I’m not. I’m not—” The words came out in a rush. Her face was bright crimson. She’d snatched another napkin from the napkin holder and was twisting the shit out of it. He’d better get her out of here soon before more napkins died a violent death.

“Steph,” he said gently, “it’s all good. We’re friends. Okay?” He suppressed a sigh. She’d signed an agreement. Well then, they really were just friends. He didn’t want her to lose her job. Besides, this took the pressure off both of them.

“Okay.” She pushed the shredded napkin under her plate, and he pretended not to notice.

Jared paid the bill, grateful Steph wasn’t a drinker. With his depleted bank account, every little bit helped.

Just friends?

If being friends was what it took to spend time with her, he was on board with that.

And he did want to see her again.

 

* * * *

 

Steph stood and reached for the coat behind her chair, still trying to process what had happened tonight. Jared’s date hadn’t shown, and she’d just had the best time she’d ever had on her own with a man. He was so easy to talk to, nonjudgmental and kind. Not to mention being drop-dead gorgeous. She couldn’t date him, so he was safe, also. They could be friends. She’d like that. She could use a male friend who wasn’t her friend because he was married to one of her girlfriends.

Jared took the coat from her hand and held it out for her. She stared blankly at it before realizing he was doing the gentlemanly thing and helping her into her coat. She put it on and turned, lifting her face to his. His tentative, crooked smile squeezed her heart. Steph braced for the impact of that smile on her lady parts, but no amount of sandbagging could block the flood of emotions surging through her, and all from one little smile.

“I’m ready.”

He offered her his arm, and she accepted it, slipping her hand around his elbow and resting her fingers on his leather-clad arm. Wow. She’d never been with a man who was such a gentleman. She liked it. Maybe too much.

They walked outside to his waiting car. It was an older-model white Toyota sedan badly in need of a bath. He opened the passenger door for her and scrambled to clean the stuff stacked on the seat, tossing all of it into a cluttered back seat. The man was not exactly neat and tidy.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I should’ve cleaned the car out, but I was running behind.”

“So you said. Not exactly a neat freak, are you?” She ducked her head to hide the smile. The private Jared was a bit of slob, and she found it amusing, as long as she didn’t have to share a house with him. She was a neat freak, and this kind of personal chaos would send her into a tailspin.

“You don’t want to see my house.”

“I probably don’t.” She got into the car and put her purse in her lap. He jumped in on his side, snapped on his seatbelt, and started the engine.

“It’s not much of a car.” He put the car in drive and drove down the driveway and onto the street.

“It’s fine.” Though she wondered why he couldn’t afford something nicer and newer, considering he made millions a year. Maybe stuff like that wasn’t important to him.

“Candy got the Mercedes in the divorce, and I hate car shopping. I haven’t bothered to buy a new one.”

She shot him a sideways glance. He wasn’t looking at her but at the road. “It doesn’t matter to me.” She was telling the truth, but he could clean the thing.

He glanced at her and back to the wet pavement ahead. At least he was a good driver. She’d give him that. Even if he was a hot mess in the neatness department. She shuddered to think what his house looked like. She had no idea where he lived, but he most likely owned an expensive penthouse overlooking Puget Sound or a new house in a gated community, like Matt owned.

While he concentrated on the road, she drank in his profile by the light of the dashboard. He was beautiful in a very masculine way. His dark hair was a little unruly and needed a good cut, but she liked the devil-may-care look. Guys who paid an inordinate amount of attention to their appearance were too fussy for her taste. His square jaw was covered in a dusting of dark hair, almost a beard but not quite. At least he kept that trimmed. She couldn’t abide messy beards.

There was a good reason he was featured on a Hockey Hunks website, among other places. She shouldn’t have, but she’d Googled him a few days ago and found multiple photos of a shirtless Jared, which was a sight to behold.

Her gaze dropped to his fingers on the steering wheel. His hands were large and his fingers long. She swallowed as she imagined the things those fingers could do to a woman and had done countless times. She’d heard he hadn’t been much of a playboy before Candy, though he had hung out with Brick, Drew, and Rush, the Sockeyes’ notorious party boys. Brick didn’t party anymore now that he had Amelia and his daughter, Macy. Or so Vi had told Steph, and she didn’t think Jared partied much, either. He seemed too grounded to be wasting his time and money on drinking and chasing women. After all, men didn’t come to Forever Matched unless they were looking for their soul mates.

He was so different from Gino. Good thing she’d signed that form. She might be attracted to him, but it couldn’t happen, which took the pressure off.

The closer she got to home, the more nervous she became. Would he think she was crazy if she asked him to check the apartment for intruders? Surely, he’d not read any more into her request; she’d told him about the no-dating rule, and obviously that would extend to no hanky-panky, either.

Jared glanced at her, catching her staring at him. His brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. What’s wrong?” He pulled up the Blacks’ driveway and stopped the car in front of the garage.

“I have a stupid request of you.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid.” His concern warmed her heart. He really was a sweetheart, and she envied the lucky woman who ended up with him.

“Would you mind going inside and checking to make sure no one’s in there? I’m a bit of a coward.”

“Sure, no problem.” He didn’t laugh at her or make fun of her. His attitude was matter-of-fact, as if doing this for a woman was normal procedure. She doubted it was.

He followed her up the stairs, took the key from her, fit it in the lock, turned it, and walked inside. She was right on his heels.

Steph flicked on the lights and stood by the door as Jared checked the bathroom, under the bed, in the closet, and on the deck. There weren’t too many places to hide in her cozy studio.

“All clear.” He grinned at her. “Nice place you have. Very comfortable and tidy.”

“Not like yours, I suspect.”

“I’d take yours over mine any day.”

He stood near her, not making any move to leave just yet, as if he were waiting for something. She didn’t have any idea what.

“Well, thank you for dinner, the ride home, everything.”

He gazed down at her and took a step closer. Her breath caught in her throat. He was less than a few feet away. She swallowed and clenched her hands at her sides. She wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, but she also wanted him to leave.

He must have caught the confusion in her eyes. “I had a good time. I’ll see about getting you some tickets.”

“That’d be wonderful.”

Once more he hesitated, but then turned toward the door. “Good night,” he said over his shoulder.

“Good night.”

And he was gone. Her little studio seemed empty without his big body occupying the space. She heard his car start and drive away. Steph turned the deadbolt then flopped down on her couch and stared unseeing at a painting on the wall.

Her feelings were all jumbled inside, leaving her confused. One thing she wasn’t confused about—she had it bad for Jared “Hot Rod” Roderick.