Home > The Fix Up(8)

The Fix Up(8)
Author: Kendall Ryan

Flashbacks of David seep into the edges of my brain. I knew from the start he wasn’t my Mr. Right, but he was an alluring Mr. Right Now. Obsessed with working out, he was muscular and fit beyond belief. My friends teased me that he was a meat-head, and maybe he was. But I didn’t care, wasn’t concerned that he waited tables and washed dishes for a living. I was caught up in the idea of him, and didn’t bother to pay attention to the fact that he wasn’t interested in building a life with me, that we weren’t actually compatible in real, deep ways.

“Your turn,” I say.

“A woman who works hard, knows what she wants, and isn’t afraid of a challenge.”

Sterling’s gaze is deep and penetrating, and I find it hard to dismiss that he’s looking at me with deeper meaning than just a cursory glance. It’s unnerving. But I shrug it off.

“I’ll find her for you.” My voice is tiny and unsure, but Sterling hasn’t so much as blinked, and I can’t escape the feeling that he’s thinking, Maybe I’ve already found her.

After a moment of tense silence, Sterling drains his last drop of wine. “How do you propose this will work?”

I dab my mouth one last time with my napkin, then lean forward. I almost forgot this was a business dinner. Taking a deep breath, I try to compose myself.

“Here’s what I’m planning. With all the initial interest your story drummed up, I don’t think it’d be difficult to find you . . . candidates, for lack of a better word. I think the key will be finding quality woman you’ll be interested in long-term.”

He nods once, his brows pulled together as though he’s hanging on my every word.

I lick my lips and continue. “I’d suggest we hold a recruiting event, sort of like women applying for the job of your wife, where they’ll need to pass through an initial interview with me before they get green-lighted to meet you.”

He chuckles, low and deep, and the sound goes straight to my nipples, making them harden into points. What the hell was that?

“Speed dating meets The Bachelor,” he says.

I nod. “Exactly. I’ll need about a month to pull the event together, and that will still give you five months to actually date the woman and be sure this is the right decision.”

“Makes sense,” he says.

“And you’ll prescreen the applicants before the event so we can make sure only the most qualified women will be there.”

“Brilliant. That works.” Sterling folds his hands in front of him on the table, and his long fingers are distracting.

“I’m glad you’re okay with it.” A warm blush creeps up my chest and neck, and I swallow. “But I do have a few rules you’re going to need to abide by.”

His interest piqued, Sterling pauses, still watching me.

“Your cock will need to stay neatly tucked into your . . .” I pause, and Sterling lifts one dark eyebrow. “Wait . . . You guys call underwear pants and pants trousers, right?”

“If by you guys you mean the British, then yes. We do.” His expression is one of amused reluctance. “It’s cute to see you get all flustered talking about my cock.”

“Keep it in your pants; that’s all I’m saying.” I can feel my cheeks heating and need to get off this topic. Shit. Get off is probably a bad choice of words. There will be no getting off anytime soon. Unfortunately.

“My cock is a big boy. Pun very much intended.” He winks. “I can handle it.”

“That’s good to hear, because I mean it. If I find you a good girl to go out with, I won’t have you ruin it by bringing your big boy out to play with her too soon.”

He looks amused. “What’s your next rule? You said you had a few.”

“My second rule is that you listen to me. My advice will all be in the interest of getting you married off, so it’d be wise to try things my way, even if it seems unconventional.” I’m trying not to sound too bossy, but Sterling merely chuckles.

“I told you; I want this. I need to get married, so I’m game to do things your way.”

“That’s good.”

“So, how did you feel when you found out you’d be working with me on this unique project?”

“Honestly?” I raise one eyebrow.

He nods.

“I was . . . pissed off.” A little chuckle escapes my lips, and I clamp a hand over them. Shit. Why did I drink so much? “I’m so sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Sterling raises his hand. “Don’t apologize. I asked how you felt, and I wanted the truth.”

Exhaling, I straighten my posture. “It’s just that I felt my skills and talents would be better suited to something more . . . professional.”

He nods once as if he understands. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re on the project.”

I wait, hoping he’ll continue.

And then he does.

“You’re talented, smart, more than capable. Extremely beautiful, distractingly so.” His voice is soft, barely above a murmur.

Wait. What? Is it possible that he’s attracted to me like I am to him?

That’s not something I ever considered, but he’s taken me here, been attentive and kind all night. And now he’s looking at me with dark, brooding, fuck-me eyes. Maybe this was his way of testing the waters, seeing if there’s mutual attraction and chemistry between us.

The thought is dizzying.

   
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