The Perfect Match

In a flash, Honor had imagined laughing with Tom Barlow about their fix-up and strange circumstances, and he’d be so grateful she came to meet him, and heck, what was this? A spark. A connection. He’d walk her to her car, then lean in and kiss her, and she’d bet both thumbs and a forefinger it’d be fantastic.

Tom Barlow had looked up. Smiled. His front tooth was just slightly crooked. For some reason, it made her knees go soft and weak, and those bridge-playing eggs of hers made a rush for the door.

And then he spoke, and thus died the fantasy.

Colleen leaned over her with what had to be the seventeenth makeup item.

“Okay, no sparkles,” Honor said. “I think we’re good, don’t you? I feel like I could write my name in this.”

“You look gorgeous,” Faith said. “Years younger.”

Ouch.

“Not that you need to, of course,” Faith added with a grimace. “Thirty-five is the new, uh, eighteen.”

“So a date, this is exciting,” Pru said, rubbing her hands together. “What’s his name again?”

“Um, it’s Slavic. Droog.”

“Oh, dear,” Colleen said. “Can you imagine calling that out at the big moment? ‘Droog, Droog, don’t stop!’”

Honor grimaced. “It’s something to overcome, I’ll admit.”

“What’s in a name, though?” Faith said. “If he’s cute, the name won’t matter. You’ll probably love it after ten minutes.”

“I hate dating,” Honor admitted. “I’m so bad with men.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Prudence said thoughtfully at the same instant Faith said, “No, you’re not!”

“Oh, sure I am,” she said. “But I’m really good at accounting. We all have our gifts.”

“Girls!” Dad bellowed up from downstairs. “Levi and Connor are here!”

“John Holland!” yelled Mrs. J. “Stop yelling like your daughters are a team of mules!”

The bedroom door opened. “Ladies,” Levi said. His eyes stopped on Faith, and Honor suppressed the familiar envy. Her sister and Levi had known each other for ages, but only recently started getting along. As in, the air was thick with pheromones of the newlyweds.

“Blick. Young love. I’m so over them, aren’t you?” Colleen asked Honor.

“Nah. I like them. Hi, Connor.”

“Hello, Holland women, hello, twin sister,” Connor O’Rourke said. “Wow, your hair, Honor. I keep forgetting.”

“I found him wandering the streets,” Levi said. “Figured we’d come see what you girls were up to.”

“Go have a drink with my dad,” Faith said. “This is a girl thing.”

“No, you know what?” Colleen said. “This is great. Boys, what do you think? How hot is Honor? Not historically, but right here and now.”

“Please don’t answer,” Honor said.

The two men exchanged a relieved glance.

Hang on. Why wouldn’t they want to talk about how hot she was, huh? “Actually, do answer. How hot am I, guys?”

“I’ll go see about that drink,” Levi said. “Connor?”

“Don’t you move,” Honor ordered. “You owe me, Levi Cooper. Okay, I realize this is awkward, you being my brother-in-law and all, but Colleen’s right. I could use a male opinion.”

“Is invoking my right to the Fifth Amendment a good enough answer?” Levi asked.

“No,” said Faith. “You have to answer.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I’m cutting you off,” she said.

Levi gave her a sleepy look. “You’d climb me like a tree after one day.”

“I would, too,” Pru said. “You’re a good-looking guy, Levi.”

Honor turned away from the mirror and trapped both men with her gaze. because yeah, she was good at that. Authoritative. “Boys, you don’t want to be on my bad side, do you?”

“I know I don’t,” Connor said.

“Smart of you. Relax. I’m just looking for some insight.” Hey, why not? She’d already lost all dignity with the catfight. Plus, these guys knew her. “Why don’t men think dirty thoughts about me?”

“We do,” Connor said. “Not to worry.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, we do. We’re guys. We automatically assess any woman for sex. Right, Levi?”

Levi scowled in response.

“Is that true?” Honor asked. Men were such aliens. “Really? You look at a woman, every woman, and imagine ha**g s*x with her?”

“I don’t,” Levi said.

“He’s lying,” Connor answered. “We’re guys. We think about sex with every woman.”

“Really. Every woman?” she asked. Connor nodded. “So someone like Lorena Creech,” she continued, naming the scariest woman she could think of. Lorena, age sixtysomething, fifty pounds overweight, a penchant for see-through animal-print clothing. “You’ve thought about ha**g s*x with her?”

“Well, yeah, same as you think about being eaten by a shark or getting your testicles caught in a bear trap,” Connor said. “If you’re a guy and a woman walks past, you look at her, imagine sex, then you either shudder in horror or make a play.”

Honor pursed her lips. “So I got the shudder of horror?”

Connor looked stricken.

“Busted, jerk,” his twin said.

“Um, no. I... You’re not horrifying, Honor. You’re quite...”

“Quite what? That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

Connor appeared to be sweating. “Um, it’s hard to put a finger on it. You’re very, uh, attractive.”

“You’re an idiot, Connor,” Prudence said.

Honor sighed. “Levi? Got anything? I’m your sister-in-law. Help me. As a man, what do you think when you look at me?”

“My wife’s sister.”

“Before you married her, dummy.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “See, there you go. You’re a little...”

“Be careful,” Faith warned. “I’ll have to kill you if you hurt her feelings. Is your life insurance paid up? If I have to be a widow, I want to be rich.”

“No, just be honest, Levi. Go ahead.” Honor folded her arms and waited.

Levi paused. Sighed. “I guess Connor’s right. It probably crossed my mind once or twice.” He glanced at his wife. “But just as a fleeting thought, and way before we hooked up, babe.”

“Because I’m not pretty enough?” Honor guessed. It was to be expected. Faith got the looks.

“You’re pretty enough.”

“Don’t blow smoke.”

“Okay, you’re not pretty. I thought you were, but you must be right.”

Huh. That was kind of nice, and Levi was rather known for being blunt. “Sorry. And thanks. But if I’m pretty, why didn’t you ever want to sleep with me?”

“This is very uncomfortable.”

“Just theoretically.”

“Yes, Levi. Theoretically,” Faith said.

“Better you than me, pal,” Connor muttered.

Levi closed his eyes briefly. “It’s not your looks. You’re a little...unapproachable.”

Honor’s mouth dropped open. “What?” She was not! She was very pleasant! Very approachable. Extremely polite. Like...finishing-school polite. First Lady’s social secretary polite and pleasant. That was basically her life, being nice to people all the livelong day, no matter how much she occasionally wanted to strangle them.

“Exactly,” Connor agreed. “You’re—what do you girls call it? Walled off. Shut down. You have armor.”

“I don’t have armor!” Honor barked. “I don’t! What armor? There’s no armor!” Spike barked in agreement.

“You want to go out for dinner?” Levi asked Faith.

“Maybe you’re just unaware of the vibe you give off,” Colleen said. “The hairbands, for example. Do they scream sex? No.”

“I’m not unapproachable,” Honor said to her brother-in-law.

“Okay, you’re not. I apologize. Faith, save me.”

“I have an idea,” Faith said. “Honor, pretend you’re meeting Connor for the first time. Like you guys are on a first date, you’ve been chatting online, but this is the first time you’ve laid eyes on each other.”

“Great idea,” Honor said. “Sit, Connor.”

Unapproachable. Armor. Please. Spike came over and whined to be picked up. She obliged, kissing the dog on the head. So approachable. Even animals thought so.

“That dog will have to go,” Colleen said. “It’s worse than a cat.”

“How dare you,” Honor murmured, giving Colleen a look. “Come on, Connor. Get in character.”

“Yeah, Conn, get to it,” said Colleen. “We have a bar to run. Who’s opening tonight, anyway?”

“Monica.” Connor sighed and sat obediently across from Honor at the foot of the bed. “Hi, are you Honor? I’m Connor.”

“Oh, Connor and Honor! That rhymes!” Colleen said. “Sorry. Back to you two.”

“Hi, Connor. Nice to meet you.” Totally approachable. She shot Levi an icy glare. He was busy giving Faith a steamy, let’s-get-it-on look.

“You’re even prettier than your picture,” Connor said.

“Thanks.” She smiled brightly.

“Eesh, you look like a wolverine when you smile like that,” Colleen said. “Easy, girl.”

Honor sighed, then tried again, baring only a few teeth this time.

“Now you look feeble. Don’t worry about it, we’ll work on that later. Just keep going.”

Connor was Faith’s age. A nice guy. Good-looking. An excellent bartender. Otherwise, she didn’t know him too well. “So tell me about yourself,” she said.

“Good line,” Faith murmured, swatting at Levi’s hand.

“I’m a bartender who likes the smell of crisp autumn leaves and Johnson’s baby shampoo.”

Honor paused. “That’s kind of creepy.”

“See? You’re gutting me already. I feel emasculated.”

“Well, then, you need to sac up a little, don’t you?”

“And we’re done,” Connor said. “Levi, how about that beer, pal?”

* * *

PRU WENT OFF with the guys, but Faith and Colleen spent another half hour giving her advice on how to talk to men, which was not something Honor would’ve suspected she needed to be taught. With Brogan, she’d just been herself.

Okay, not a great example. Thinking his name still made her brain cringe.

The troops finally left, and Honor got dressed in the outfit Faith had picked out. Jeans (Colleen’s, and they stopped a good four inches below the belly button and felt freakishly uncomfortable), purple suede ankle boots with three-inch heels (Faith’s, obviously), a pale green shirt (Colleen’s), pearls (Mom’s), four silver bracelets (Faith’s) and long, dangling silver earrings (Faith’s again).

Clearly, Honor had no idea how to dress herself. Then again, that was the point. Short hair, better clothes, makeup. She’d be married in no time.

“Droog. This is my husband, Droog.” Okay, it lacked a certain élan.

Spike was sleeping on Honor’s pillow, worn out from emasculating Blue, who wanted very much to love Spike but which Spike wouldn’t allow. Her doggy had been a rescue, so Honor wasn’t sure what her history was with other dogs. Bossy, obviously, which Honor admired.

At any rate, Mrs. J. would take her into her apartment for the night and watch whatever violent TV show she was into this week. The housekeeper loved Spike more than she loved most humans.

She tiptoed down the stairs, terrified of falling in the high-heeled boots and breaking a femur or rupturing her spleen, and went into the kitchen.

“Oh, God!” she blurted. She leaped back into the hallway, pressing her back against the wall. Holy. Fungus. “Sorry, sorry!”

“We weren’t doing anything!” her dad yelled as a kitchen chair crashed to the floor. “It’s not what you think!”

“Honor Grace Holland, why are you sneaking around this house, creeping up on people?” Mrs. Johnson said.

“We were just kissing!” Dad said.

“Is it safe to come back in?” she asked, feeling a laugh start to wriggle around in her stomach.

“Yes! We weren’t...we were just... Oh, jeesh. Is that the phone?”

“Don’t you move, John Holland. We were not kissing, Honor,” Mrs. Johnson said darkly. “Your father, the ridiculous man, asked if he could kiss me just the one time. And just the one time it will be, John Holland, if you can’t keep track of which of your many children is skulking around corners.”

“Okay, okay,” Honor said, going back into the kitchen. Dad’s face was bright red, and Mrs. Johnson looked like she was about to kick a baby dolphin, she was so mad. “I’m sorry I didn’t make more noise. I didn’t know there was a romance unfolding here. I’ll tie a bell around my neck next time.”

“There are no bells required! There is no romance!” Mrs. J. thundered. “It was an experiment only, and one of complete failure, given your intrusion, Honor. We thought you had left with the others. Your father said we were alone.”