Chapter Nine – Dom

Not all women were sugar and spice and all things nice.

Some were just spice.

Or maybe that was just Chloe after sangria.

“Are you drunk?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

She shook her head, still keeping it propped up on her hands. “Luca makes a mean sangria, but I’ve been sipping that one so long it was basically lukewarm.” She wrinkled up her face, her make-up free skin showing a light dusting of freckles that she usually kept covered up. “Unless being drunk would make you tell me why you’re here so early…”

“It was just a short date. What else do you want me to tell you?” I got up and walked toward the kitchen.

“You’re so full of shit, Australia can smell you.”

“Well, they’re welcome. I smell good tonight.” I chuckled to myself and turned on the kitchen light.

“You’re so annoying,” Chloe muttered.

“Says the one annoying me,” I shot back over my shoulder.

God, the woman could drive a man to drink himself into a grave. There was nothing about this date I wanted to share with her. I could say that with one hundred percent certainty.

Not because Rachael and I weren’t compatible, and she’d gotten it wrong, but because I didn’t want her to go and be with Warren if I didn’t have anyone. That was the whole point of this exercise—to get over her. Maybe seeing her with someone else would work, but before it did, it’d fucking hurt.

“I just want to know what happened. We said we’d check in, so check in.”

“I don’t want to.” I turned around and met her eyes.

She stared at me, folding her arms across her chest. She was make-up free aside from a tiny lick of mascara on her eyelashes, and that was a strange sight in itself.

Not that I didn’t love it.

I did.

I thought she was fucking beautiful when she wasn’t hiding all the things that made her, her. The freckles that lightly dusted her nose. The tiny mole at the edge of her left eyebrow. The chicken-pox scar right next to her ear.

“What went wrong, then?” she demanded. “Do you just not like her? I can find you someone else if that’s—”

“She’s a great person,” I cut in before she could carry on. “I like her just fine.”

“Just fine? Are you describing your date or the dessert?”

“Chloe. Drop it.” I turned back to the coffee machine.

I didn’t want to tell her that her client had lied on her application. I didn’t want to tell her that she’d omitted a huge part of her life when she’d filled out all the information.

If she’d put it in, there was no way Chloe would have ever matched her with me.

“I just want to know. It’s not about you. If I’ve done something wrong in matching you—”

I spun on the balls of my feet and took one step to close the space between us. She drew in a deep breath, her lips parting with the sharp inhale.

“I said,” my gaze met hers, “drop it.”

There was a flash of surly defiance in her eyes. One that closed her lips and made them press into a thin line. Her brows drew together like she was plotting my death within seconds of me speaking.

She was fierce.

And it was my favorite thing about her.

“I won’t drop it,” she said stubbornly. “Not until you tell me what happened.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“I clearly made a bad match. It’s my job to match you with the person that’s best for you.”

Which was something she couldn’t do.

The bare-faced fact of the fucking matter was that it would never happen.

None of the people she could ever match me with would be good enough.

None of them would ever be her.

I gripped the door frame, one hand either side, and held her gaze steady. “She lied on her application and admitted it to me tonight. Nothing you could have done would have made a difference. On paper, she was perfect. In real life, not so much.”

Chloe ran her tongue over my bottom lip, and fuck if my eyes didn’t flick to the smooth flick of it.

“Now, will you drop it?” I asked, dipping my head down to her.

She swallowed but shook her head just the tiniest amount. “What did she lie about?”

“Jesus fuck, Chlo.” I pushed off the frame and ran my hands through my hair. “You’re killin’ me over here.”

“I just want to know! Do I need to do more in-depth research? I mean—”

“She has a fucking kid!” I threw my arm out to the side.

She froze, mouth open where I’d interrupted her.

“Yeah,” I said a lot quieter. “She has a child, and I’m the asshole who told her we couldn’t see each other again because I’m not ready to have a child in my life.”

I wasn’t my sister. I didn’t have any lingering feelings the way she’d had with Elliott. I wasn’t ready to have a child of my own, never mind anyone else’s.

“That doesn’t make you an asshole,” Chloe said. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting. “If anything, she’s the asshole.”

I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “How’d you figure that out?”

With a tiny shrug of her shoulder, she said, “She didn’t tell you she had a child. She deliberately lied on her profile. I mean, come on. She has a child. It’s not like she has five cats and pet llama in the backyard.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help it. “A pet llama?”

“Hey, I’ve seen it before. Or maybe it was an alpaca? I don’t know. They look the same.” She waved it off. “Point is, she kept major information from her profile. You’re not a horrible person for not seeing her again when she’s someone you should never have been matched with in the first place.”

“Yeah? Can you tell her that? She looked at me like I was the physical embodiment of Satan.”

Chloe perched on the edge of my desk. “That’s probably just because she could see right through you.”

“He clearly changed his host from you to me, then.”

She grinned. “Nah, I was just temporary. You were always his favorite.”

I let out a small laugh. “Whatever. But now you know, so you can leave me alone.”

“Do you want me to find you another date? I have a couple still from when I—”

“No.”

“No?” She opened and closed her mouth a couple times. “No?”

“No,” I repeated, just as firmly. “Thank you, but no. I don’t want you to find me another date.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want one.” I held my hands out to my sides. “It’s that simple, Chlo. I’m good for now.”

She stood up off the desk and walked over to me. “But, how—”

I let out a heavy sigh and grasped her shoulders. I made sure I met her eyes before I spoke because I wanted her to know that I was being completely serious.

“Chloe,” I said softly. “I don’t want you to find me another date. Not that Rachael wasn’t great until the whole “I have a daughter” thing, but because I just don’t want one.”

She dropped her gaze to my left arm briefly before bringing her eyes back up to mine. “Why not?”

“Because, and I mean this in the nicest way possible when I say this—”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“—Nobody you match me with will be able to compare to what I really want, all right?”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything.

“So, it’s just that simple,” I finished. “I don’t want to date anyone right now.”

“I don’t understand,” she said softly.

“You don’t need to understand. It’s my issue, not yours.” I dipped my head once again, so our faces were close. “So, leave it now. All right? Focus on the people who need your help to find a date, because I don’t see myself being one of them anytime soon.”

“I don’t—” she stopped before she presumably repeated herself. “But you were all for this before. What changed your mind?”

Sitting across from another woman and comparing everything about her to you.

“I don’t think I was ever really into it,” I admitted. “Not like you are.”

“Oh.” Her expression dropped slightly. “I guess—okay, fine.”

“Fine? You’re not going to argue with me?” I dropped my hands from her upper arms and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.” I gave her a quick once-over and stopped.

She looked different—aside from no make-up.

Chloe lifted a hand to her face. “What? Is there something on my face? In my hair?” She ran her fingers over her cheeks and then through her hair.

Her hair.

“Did you cut your hair?” I asked, squinting slightly.

“Oh. That. Yeah. Just a bit.” She blushed and tucked it behind her ear. “Why? Does it look bad?”

You could be bald, and the answer would still be no.

“No,” I said honestly. “You look great.”

She froze, as if she thought I’d tell her otherwise. Her cheeks flushed pink. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I tugged my lips up to one side. “I’m gonna go upstairs. Can you lock up?”

“Sure. I’ll see you Monday?”

I pulled open the office door and, with a glance over my shoulder to the woman who was still blushing, nodded. “See you Monday, Chlo.”