Page 33 of Stupid Matchmaking Love

“Not that. You know, when I . . .” For some reason the word massage sticks in the back of my throat, so I raise my hands and flex my fingers.

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.”

“Let’s just say . . .” His jaw twitches like he’s about to tell me why he freaked out, but he’s cut off when someone shushes all conversation.

Isaac returns with my wine and Rhett’s bourbon. He pays and I turn around to see why we were shushed.

Stone heads over to the TV on the wall and turns it up.

Mina’s face appears on the screen. She’s standing beside the antique-shop quilt where dreams go to die, and a reporter is with her.

“We’re live at the Summit at Mystic Meadows. In just a few moments we will find out who will be participating in Mystic Meadows’s very first magical matchmaking competition. With us is Mina Shaw. You’ve got a big announcement for us today, Mina. Isn’t that right?”

Oh, great. Here we go.

Mina speaks into the mic she’s holding. “The Soulmate Quilt will reveal the names of the lucky couples who will be competing in the competition. The winners will receive one hundred thousand dollars.”

“Wow, what a prize . . .”

The reporter keeps talking, but Rhett says, “What would you do with the money if you won?”

“Oh, I’d buy . . .”

My stomach drops, because I wouldn’t buy anything, would I? Because if I won, Glen would find out and he’d milk me for every dollar.

So instead of answering, as smoothly as a racoon breaking into a garbage can, I redirect with “Why aren’t y’all there for the announcement?”

He nods to Stone. “My cousin thought it would be bad luck if we were hovering, so we came here.”

“Bad luck?”

“We just want this to go smoothly, is all.”

“With a dynamo like Mina, I’m sure it will.”

He looks down at me with an unreadable expression, almost pained, as if my words, which had nothing to do with him, hurt. “You always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Use sarcasm to hide your intrigue.”

“Um . . .” I stumble over my own thoughts, scrambling to come up with something to hide the fact that Rhett Maddox just flipped me upside down. I land the ever-brilliant, “I can assure you, I’m not intrigued by Mina.”

“Maybe not. But you’re certainly intrigued by something—perhaps the competition. Or maybe something else.”

You mean, like you?

Our gazes collide, and my wineglass turns to lead as heat blooms across my cheeks. I could stare into his inky eyes forever.

So I force myself to look away, pretending he didn’t just shake me to my core. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not intrigued by the competition.”

“I’m sure you’re not, which is why you entered.”

“May I remind you that you called me a chicken?”

“And here I thought you were above being goaded by childish talk.”