Page 5 of Making Over Maris

Jack had roomed with Tristan in college. They’d played beer pong together. And now he was going to be someone’s dad.

Frankly, Jack was feeling left behind.

He’d spent a lifetime building the persona of a guy who didn’t care that he was unappealing to the fairer sex. It had served as an invulnerable shield from the sting of being unappealing to the fairer sex. His snark, his sarcasm, had protected him.

Somewhere along the line, it quit working.

That he was alone—and lonely—had started to hurt. A lot.

In the past few months—since Adam and Tristan had announced their engagements—he’d gone into a downward spiral, haunting third-rate cable channels, watching chick flicks and blubbering at the happy endings.

It was revolting.

But then—in that dark, miserable hole—a light had flared. He’d been lounging in his media room, making his way through a platter of prefabricated microwavable sandwiches while watching one of those sappy rom-coms—a film about a woman who’d asked the man she loved to teach her how to be the perfect wife—and the idea had sprouted.

It had worked in the movie. The hero and the heroine ended up in love. Maybe it would work with Sara.

If she agreed to help him on this quest, she’d have to spend time with him. Think about him. Maybe—dare he hope—touch him on occasion.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d come to actually see him. As an actual man.

His computer played the first few bars from the Ride of the Valkyries, signaling it had completed its logon, and Jack hunkered over the keyboard, willing his brain to shift back into work mode.

She said she’d think about it.

That was good enough.

For now.