Mission: Marriage. Hannah Bernard

like he imagined the big bad wolf had looked at Little Red Riding Hood?

      “Practice makes perfect, you say?” she said slowly, her cheeks still red from the excitement of the last few minutes—and perhaps from one drink too many. Then her voice rose in exhilaration. “This is terrific. You’re just what I need. Finally fate decides to be on my side. It’s about time, too.”

      “I’m just what you need?” Thomas asked.

      “Yes!”

      “And what is it that you need?” Judging by the wild look in her eyes, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but it was probably safer to ask, before she went right ahead and helped herself to…whatever she needed.

      “A guy like you. You know. A serial dater. A playboy.”

      “A playboy?” Thomas gave in to his instincts and took that cautious step back. Magical green eyes or not, had he rescued a slightly nuts—as well as tipsy—damsel in distress? “I’m definitely not a ‘playboy.’ I’m not even sure they make those outside of Hollywood.”

      She shrugged. “Okay, a playboy probably isn’t the right word. I don’t have the terminology quite straight. I took a crash course online last night. Amazing, the things you’ll learn if you type ‘dating’ into a search engine. A player, that’s what you’re called, isn’t it?”

      “Huh?”

      “Players,” she repeated patiently. “Single men, playing the field for all it’s worth, you’re called players, aren’t you?”

      “Uh…I don’t know. We are? They are?”

      She didn’t seem to have heard him, and she still had the big bad wolf look on her face. “Listen…” she said slowly. “We missed out on the main course and I don’t think either of us ate much of our appetizer. I’m sure you’re as hungry as I am. Can I buy you dinner somewhere? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry—I’m sounding a bit crazy, aren’t I?”

      Thomas laughed, feeling a bit relieved. Nuts usually didn’t realize they were sounding nuts. There might be an explanation for her weird ramblings. She might even be okay after all, which would be a definite plus to the evening since the damsel intrigued him a whole lot more than Beth had. “I won’t deny that the thought crossed my mind.”

      “Sorry. But I have a problem, and I think you could help me solve it…” She paused and looked around. “There is a point to this, I promise. But it’s a bit of a long story. What do you say about dinner? We need to eat anyway.”

      “Sounds great,” he said. “And I really am starving. You don’t stick gum on your plate, do you?”

      She had a great smile, one that hadn’t been much in evidence during her date with the footsie guy, except in her silent exchanges with him. “I promise. My chewing gum doesn’t come in that shade of green, either.” She glanced around again. “Where can we eat? Do you know this neighborhood?”

      “Not really. But I think I know of a place that might have tables available. My car is here, we could drive there. It’s maybe fifteen minutes away.” He hesitated, realizing they were complete strangers. “On second thoughts, you probably prefer that we take a taxi, don’t you?”

      “Your car is fine,” she said, which annoyed him. She should know better than to get into a car with someone she’d never met before, and here she was, walking with him toward the darkened parking lot without any qualms at all. He wasn’t a psycho, but she didn’t know that, did she? She shouldn’t trust him at all.

      But it was none of his business, was it? Wouldn’t hurt to mention it to her later tonight, though. Or tell Anne to warn her friend not to be so trusting of strangers.

      “You’re sure Beth will be okay?” she asked, while fastening her seat belt. “I’m still feeling guilty about leaving them together.”

      “I’m positive. I never met her before tonight, but I’ve heard stories about her for a while. She won’t take any crap from him. She might even teach him a thing or two on how to treat ladies.”

      “You didn’t seem too happy on your date with her.”

      He chuckled. “Beth is okay. She’s a sweet kid, really. Just young. Very young.” He grimaced as he twisted the key in the ignition. “Or maybe it’s just that I’m getting old. She made me feel every one of my thirty-two years. All she talked about were celebrities, and I’d never even heard of half these people.”

      “How come you were out with her in the first place if you’re so mismatched?”

      “Same as you, blind date. My stepsister set us up. I never go on blind dates anymore, but she whined until I gave in.” It was as much truth as he could tell her right now. He’d promised Anne, but the fact remained that he was feeling rather guilty.

      “And Beth is a friend of hers?”

      “Not quite—little sister of her husband’s friend, I believe. Something like that. She exhausted all the friends a long time ago.”

      “I see,” Lea said thoughtfully. “So…You’re a confirmed bachelor, are you, resisting all attempts at matchmaking?”

      “Not really…” A playboy, a player and a confirmed bachelor. She had a lot of neat little boxes for him, didn’t she? He shrugged. “My only crime is being single and happy to stay that way. That seems to make me fair game for anyone’s matchmaking hobby.”

      “And why is it that you want to stay single?” She canceled the question with a gesture. “Sorry, none of my business.”

      “It’s fine.” He didn’t mind giving out his standard response. “I simply like my life the way it is. Of course, if you ask my stepsister or the other match-making experts, they’d tell you it’s just that I haven’t met the right woman yet.”

      Lea was staring out into the night when he glanced toward her. “That’s not a valid reason for being single, when you think about it,” she finally said. “At our age, most people seem to have settled down with someone, even if they haven’t met anyone right.”

      “That’s a rather cynical thing to say, isn’t it?”

      “It’s true.”

      “Yeah, I suppose it is. And some of those people have been divorced once or twice too. You know what they say about marrying in haste.”

      “Repent at leisure,” she murmured. “Or in today’s world: Divorce in equal haste, isn’t it?”

      There was a pause in the conversation as they parked outside a restaurant and were seated, but once they were there, Lea picked up where they’d left off, propping her chin on her hands and targeting him with a laser-sharp look. Her eyes were very green, he noticed again. Turning darker when she was excited about something. He liked them that shadowy shade of emerald.

      “So,” she said. “Are you saying that you think one should hold out for the perfect partner, rather than settling for someone—less perfect?”

      “I don’t know if I would put it like that…” Thomas grinned at her. “That would make me a soppy romantic, wouldn’t it? Not exactly macho.”

      She smiled back. “On the contrary. I’m pretty sure romantic men are every woman’s fantasy.” Despite the words, there wasn’t anything flirty in her voice, which was slightly confusing. Then her smile vanished and she lowered her head to stare down at the menu. “Well, it’s mine, anyway. But it’s tricky, isn’t it? Knowing what’s right. I bet a lot of those divorced people thought they’d be together forever.”

      “Well. People change. Life happens.”

      “Then there are people like my friend Anne and her husband. I don’t think even continental rift could tear those two apart, ever.”

      “Some people are lucky.”