Page 18 of The Matchmaker's Mistake

“You don’t like him?”

“He’s okay. He’s a bit too much like a Ken doll made human, though. I think Bryn could do better.”

He huffs a laugh, then says, “Well, maybe you should go for someone more like a Ken doll. About Cole…”

Rowan has been weirdly protective of me all week, texting to ask how I’m doing. This is all because of those stupid MASH games he saw in my notebook when we were teenagers. He thinks I have some sort of unrequited flame for Cole.

The fucked up thing is that I’ve realized he’s probably right. The foolish, little girl part of me still has a crush on him, even though I’ve tried every way I can to stamp it out, like a fire in a trash can. Then there’s the physical connection between us…it’s electric. Incendiary. It’s the zip—the word Bryn and I coined for that uncanny chemistry two people can have with each other.

I’ll be honest, I’d like to know where it might lead. At the same time, Rowan is right: Cole Garrison isn’t interested in more than one night with a woman, and it would be a mistake to sleep with him.

“There’s no need for us to talk about it further, dude. Unless you want a play by play. Do you want to go get a drink? Preferably a strong one that will numb my mind.”

“Affirmative.”

We agree to meet at a bar downtown. It’s typically a place I’d skip since it’sdefinitelybeen discovered by tourists, but desperate times and all that. For obvious reasons, I don’t want to go to Cole’s brewery, Ziggy’s, and there aren’t a whole lot of other options.

I wait for Rowan outside, feeling a weird squeezing sensation in my chest because of all of it—Cole, Bryn and Mayo Sandwich, and even Auggie and Greg the Wall.

My brother pulls a face when he sees me. “That’s your contemplative look. I don’t like it when you’re contemplative—it usually means you’re planning something.”

“Not tonight,” I say. “I was thinking about Mayo sandwiches.”

I link my arm through his and lead him toward the door. “Mayo sandwiches?” he says in disgust. “Who would eat a sandwich with just mayo in it?”

“There are chips too,” I say, warming to the subject. I have a feeling Rowan agrees with me about Matt despite his little Ken doll speech. They’ve always seemed to get on okay, but Matt’s a person without spark, and my brother, for all his grumpy exterior, is all spark.

I’m about to head toward the bar to grab us some drinks when I see who’s sitting there.

Cole Garrison.

And there’s a blond woman on his lap.

Both of them are laughing, and there’s this air to them that makes it really fucking obvious that he’s going back to her hotel tonight. I say this because she’s obviously a tourist—dressed up in the kind of outfit someone would wear to a nightclub in NYC, not a crap bar in Highland Hills.

For a second, something sinks inside of me, and there’s a cracking sensation, like maybe my heart is fracturing after all.

Then my brother gives me a look that’s so sympathetic, a fire lights inside of me and razes everything else. It’s not Cole I’m mad at, per se—he never gave me a reason to believe he’s anything but what he is—no, I’m mad at myself for getting hung up on the one guy guaranteed to screw me over.

“Let’s go somewhere else, Holly,” Rowan says as the tourist reaches up to kiss the mouth that was mine last weekend.

“Yes, let’s,” I say. “Let’s go to Ziggy Brewery.”

After all, it’s obvioushewon’t be there.

But the next time I see him?

Game on, Cole Garrison. If you thought I was unpleasant before, you won’t know what hit you now.

And if I’m acting that way to protect myself…well, no one else needs to know.