1

Elizabeth

“You have to get back on the horse,” my older sister, Delilah, says before sifting a cloud of powdered sugar over the tray of jelly-filled donuts.

She’s right; it’s been almost two months since my last real date, but telling my sister I have no interest in wading through the pool of single men in search of my Mr. Right is not an easy thing to do. Not that she would understand the dilemma that is the single life. She’s been with the same man since she was twelve.

The last date I went on was the last straw. The guy wouldn’t stop talking about himself. He went on and on about his accolades and achievements. He bragged about his job and most recent financial gains. He even told me about the time he got to go to the Playboy Mansion and the massive orgy he took part in while there. He never asked me a question or bothered to get to know me in any way, shape or form.

No, I take that back. He did ask me a total of two questions.

The first was for my half of the bill, which didn’t come as a shock to me. After all, he’d done nothing but prove what a huge douchebag he is. Why would I even consider he might be a gentleman and pick up the check, right?

The second question came the moment we crossed the threshold from the restaurant to the sidewalk, though it was more of a proposition than a question.

Your place or mine?

I mean, what the actual fuck?

There were literally no words to give him because I fell into a state of uncontrollable giggles. As if the night hadn’t been bad enough, he walked off insulted by my reaction, leaving me to find my own way home.

Nope, wading through the pool is not high on my list of things to do. I’d rather curl up with a good book written by my favorite author, Sophie Samuels, every evening for the rest of my life. At least those men, though fictional, never let a girl down.

“I’m not still pining over him, if that’s what you’re trying to hint at.” I swipe a finger across the wooden countertop, collecting the sugar with the tip of my finger before popping it into my mouth. The him I’m referring to is the man I almost married a year ago, Miles.

He was supposed to be my forever, that is until I came home early from work to find him drilling our neighbor from behind. Now he’s moved on with her, and they’re expecting their first child in a few months.

Another example of the kind of men I attract—complete assholes.

“What about the app Kelly was telling you about? HEARTsync?”

“Oh, no, not going to happen,” I exclaim, feeling a surge of bile rise into my chest. “I have no interest in using an app to find me Mr. Right.”

“What about Mr. Right-Now?” She pauses long enough to give me the older-sister stare, the one that tells you there’s no getting out of this one.

“I do not need to get laid,” I scoff, pulling at my fingers in my lap.

“Lizzy, this is me you’re talking to. I know you better than you’re willing to admit.” She sets the sifter down and places both hands on the counter, narrowing her gaze on me further. She’s right. She does know me, probably even better than Miles did. “There’s only so much a battery-operated boyfriend can do.”

“Maybe, but at least I can turn him off and shove him away in some drawer when I’m done with him,” I retort, feeling a flush of heat spread across my face.

“I’m not saying you need to marry whoever this app matches you with, but wouldn’t it be nice to change it up a bit and connect with someone?” Her soft brown eyes, much darker than my own amber-colored ones, are filled with concern and maybe even a little pity.

Dee and I have always been close, despite the six-year age gap between us. She was more of a mother to me than a sister at times, because our own mother bounced from man to man, falling in and out of love easily. Our upbringing wasn’t perfect, but as long as we had each other, we had it all.

“You realize you’re supporting the whole sex-before-marriage thing,” I tease. “I’m so going to get you back for it when your daughter is old enough to have this conversation.”

“Go right ahead. You’ll be dealing with Linc, then,” she chuckles, rubbing the swollen belly hidden underneath the bright pink and purple apron she has on. “If he has any say at all, this little girl will be fitted for a chastity belt the moment a boy starts sniffing around.”

I laugh because it’s true. The moment Dee and Lincoln found out they were expecting a little girl, Linc went into protective dad mode. The idea of some boy coming anywhere near his daughter, even in the womb, sends him into a fit.

A soft sigh escapes my lips, and my smile falters as the painful reminder that I’m nowhere near having a family of my own drops onto my shoulders.

“You’ll never get there if you don’t put yourself out there,” Dee singsongs, and I realize my inner thoughts were spoken out loud.

“A dating app isn’t going to get me any closer, not when the damn thing is nothing but a meat market of one-night stands and random hookups.”

“In other words, exactly what you need.” Dee lifts the tray of powdered donuts and slides it on the tall rack beside her.

“How is a one-night stand exactly what I need?”

“You need to clean out the cobwebs.”

“Cobwebs? It hasn’t been that long,” I exclaim, doing a quick calculation in my head. “It’s only been six months.”

“Shut the front door.” She stands with another tray of donuts, her eyes wide and once again on me. “Cobwebs. Yep. I was right.”

“Dee—”

She drops the tray on the countertop and extends a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“No.” I shake my head, shifting off my stool and onto my feet.

“Elizabeth Bennett, give me your phone,” she clips in the harsh motherly tone she used on me the time I came home drunk from Cass Mallery’s party when I was seventeen. I freeze in my spot before I can make it out the door and away from her. Reaching for my phone in my back pocket, I realize it isn’t there. My eyes fly to the spot on the counter where I set it down, but Delilah reaches out and snatches it up before my feet become unstuck.

“Don’t you dare,” I hiss, moving toward her. She smiles, unlocks my phone, because of course she knows the password, and stares down at it. Her eyes flick up to me, right before her smile morphs into a knowing smirk.

The app.

I installed it last night.

Shit.

“Lizzy, this picture, it’s perfect,” she exclaims, taking in the still shot of me standing at the top of a mountain, my face flush from the hike, and my eyes alight from the beauty around me. It’s one of my favorite photos of myself because it was the first time I felt hope after ending things with Miles.

“I can explain that.” I step forward, reaching out to grab the phone, but she moves it out of my reach, opening the app as she does so. “Dee, come on, I’m serious. Please don’t do this.”

“Let’s see what we have here.” She flicks through a couple of photos, careful to swipe left as she does so, rejecting the potential matches. Her eyes light up a second later, and she turns the screen for me to see. “He’s cute. What about him?”

I place a hand on my hip, trying my hardest to replicate the famous stare down, but she’s immune to the effect.

“Should I swipe left or right?” she asks, shaking the phone in my face. I reach up to snatch it from her grasp, thankfully succeeding this time. She sticks her tongue out at me. “Would you just look at the guy? I’ve never steered you wrong before.”

Again, she’s right. She’s always had my best interests at heart and has been supportive of whatever dreams I’ve decided to chance.

Taking a breath, I look down at the screen… and freeze.

“For the love of all that is holy, how is he that good looking?” I exclaim, looking up at my sister and then back down at the screen. My body, after six months of dormancy, begins to tingle all over. My eyes rake in every single detail of the picture before me. His dark eyes pin me in place, and I find myself searching the digital image of him for some kind of flaw, only to find none. “Sweet Jesus.”

“Well, are you going to swipe right?” I barely hear her question before my finger moves in action, swiping his photo to the right and opening a chat box.

“Fuck,” I swear, feeling a wave of panic hit my gut. The moment his photo disappears from my sight, reality sets in. “What did I just do?”

Delilah chuckles before taking the phone from my hand and types out a message in the chat box. It pings a second later, but she hands it back to me without looking at it.

“You can thank me later,” she whispers and brushes the excess powder off her hands. She chuckles again before walking out of the backroom, leaving me to stare down at the open chat box on my phone and the conversation she started.

CaliGirl24: Donut swipe left.

MrDarcy: Hello, gorgeous. ; )

Shit, what do I say now?