For a moment—okay, a few long moments—this feels insurmountable.

But am I a man or am I a man? I guide people across the toughest trails, up mountains, and over rapids, for crying out loud.

If I can’t find my own way across this swamp of a situation, then I should fire myself, and that’s not what I’m going to do. When you’re in the woods, you solve problems. Hell, if I can start a fire with a battery and clean a mess kit with dirt, then I can sure as hell tackle this problem head-on.

“Don’t worry. I know what to do,” I say, then I tell Mia my plan.

She shrugs and shoots me a lopsided smile. “And that’s why you’re not a douchey marsupial.”

I grab her face, kiss her hard in front of the Sunday night crowds heading to distant lands, and watch as she makes her way quickly through the TSA PreCheck line. She waves from the other side of security, and then she’s gone.

I head to my car, ready to tackle this new twist. Sure, it would be a hell of a lot easier to win her whole heart if I could use all the tools in the tool kit. I’d like to have my dick play its very capable part at making Mia happy.

Instead, I psych myself up for back-to-basics time with her.

* * *

In a hotel’s rooftop garden in Gramercy Park a few days later, Evie gives me a sharp-eyed stare. “Why don’t you just assign her a new guide?”

“Obviously, that thought has occurred to me,” I say, since that’s the first thing I considered.

“Then why didn’t you do it?” Evie asks as she wanders through the exclusive establishment, a ten-table garden restaurant that she considers perfect for a first date. I follow her as she tests each table, like Goldilocks, for one of her potential couples. The restaurant is empty since it’s midday, but the manager is letting her check it out.

“Because I can handle it,” I say. She pats the seat across from her, and I take it. “Besides, she requested me. And yes, I have guides, and I will still have a local guide along with me, but this is my specialty, leading this type of adventure tour-slash-retreat. This is why she hired my company.” I tap my chest for emphasis. “For me.”

Evie rises and gestures to the next table. “Fine. No one is as good as you. I understand.”

“That’s not what I mean. But it also is what I mean. If someone hires you as a matchmaker, they want you. They want Evie Milligan, the matchmaker who searches for the optimal table in a rooftop garden restaurant to make sure her potential match has the best first date possible.”

She turns and stares at me. “But if I had junior matchmakers, I’d farm out some of the work.”

“Would you, though?” I ask pointedly as she tries a table in the far-right corner with a stunning view of downtown Manhattan. “Or would you still test all the tables yourself?”

She narrows her eyes and wags a finger. “Fine, fine. I understand. It’s not one you can hand off. Why not just change the rules, though?”

I slash a hand through the air. “No way. We revised the employee guidelines for a reason. I can’t just say, ‘Oh, I was kidding.’ And I definitely can’t say they don’t apply to me.”

“But isn’t she your girlfriend now? That doesn’t make her exempt?”

“Oddly enough, I didn’t make a girlfriend provision.” I smack my forehead. “What was I thinking?” Evie rises, and I follow her to one more table. “But seriously, if I use that loophole, then anyone can give retroactive relationship-status to whoever they hook up with. No screwing the customers has to mean no screwing the customers.”

She runs her hand along the crisp tablecloth. “Is there that much boinking in the woods that you need these hardcore rules?”

I laugh. “Have you ever been camping? I swear half the babies in the world have been made in tents. It’s one huge bang-fest sometimes.”

“I guess that’s why you went into this field,” she says playfully.

“Ha ha. But seriously, it’s all good. I have a plan.”

She sits in the chair, crossing her legs. “And what is this brilliant plan?”

I sit across from her and lay out my strategy. “I’ll do her trip, as requested, as planned. But I’ll also spend some time beforehand finding the best guide for her here on the East Coast, so I can reassign her company when she moves to New York. I have enough people out here who can handle the type of day trips she wants once she’s here, so I just need to work with Dana and find the right match. And as for the Tahoe trip, I’m the guy. I’m the one who needs to lead it,” I say, cracking my knuckles. “And that means I’ll be a good Boy Scout.”

Evie doubles over. “That’s a good one.”

“Why is that so funny?”

She points at me. “You think”—she’s laughing so hard she can barely breathe—“that you”—more laughter bursts from her—“can put the genie back in the bottle?”

I square my shoulders. “Easy as pie.”

After all, what’s so hard about a week of celibacy with the woman I’m crazy for?