The Matchmaker's Playbook (Wingmen Inc., #1)(48)

Out of nowhere, her smile fell and her eyes pooled with tears. Frowning, I dropped the groceries on the counter.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I gripped her face with my hands. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s, uh . . .” She gulped as a few tears splashed onto her cheeks. “He died two years ago today.”

“Shit.” I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to hers. Then, without asking, I lifted her into my arms and hugged her.

Blake wrapped her arms around my neck in her typical choking fashion, but I didn’t care. Hold me tighter, I wanted to say. Anything to make her feel better.

She sobbed for a few seconds before her body stopped shaking.

I set her on her feet but kept our bodies close. “I’m so sorry.” I used my thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears from her puffy cheeks. “I know that doesn’t make it better. Nothing I say will make it better. But I think he’d be proud of you. I can’t imagine you growing up with some timid-assed brother who let you get away with anything.” I squeezed her tighter. “You’re an amazing woman. Funny, sweet, caring . . . There is nothing about you that I would change.” I sighed. “You know, other than some of the clothing choices I’m sure he would have encouraged to keep all the guys at bay.”

She burst out laughing. It was good to hear. Immediately, I relaxed.

“Yeah, he was . . .” She frowned. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way.”

“I swear on guys everywhere if you say I remind you of him, you’re going to see me freak out and do something stupid.”

“As opposed to every other day?”

“Hey! I just comforted you. Now I’m stupid?”

A teasing smile lit up her face. “I wasn’t going to say you were like my brother. Just that you tend to have a lot in common. He played football and was always trying to get me to jump out of my comfort zone. Thus, the jeans. I was wearing nothing but basketball shorts, and he finally told me I needed to start dressing like a girl. Shopping. It was one of the last things we did together before he died. I’ve never even worn half the clothes. I’m sure some are out of style, but”—her lower lip trembled—“I thought maybe if I tried . . . for him, you know?”

“Listen.” I pressed a finger to her lips. “You are beautiful no matter what you wear. You could wear basketball shorts and those ugly-ass flip-flops every day of your life, and your brother would still be proud of you. I promise.”

Tears filled her eyes again. “You think?”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Because I’m proud of you. And I’m not easy to impress—you do know who I am, right?”

“Ian Hunter.” She said my name with reverence. God above, I wanted to be worthy of the way she said my name.

“Guys,” Gabi called from somewhere inside the house. “You just gonna stand there and eye-screw each other, or can we get the snacks?”

“Be right there,” I yelled back, never taking my eyes off Blake. “Are you going to be okay?”

The light reflected off of her tearstained face. She was . . . beautiful. So beautiful it hurt. “As long as you stay.”

“Done.”

“Good.” She reached for the bags, then blocked the door with her hand. “But I can’t let you in unless you managed to get the chocolate Gabi and I begged for.”

Sighing, I reached into one of the bags and pulled out two Hershey’s Krackel bars. “You mean this chocolate?”

Blake swiped it from my hand and inhaled. “So good.”

“Question.” I leaned in. “If it was between me and a Krackel bar—”

“Krackel bar.” She patted my shoulder. “Every time.”

“Had to ask.”

“Guys,” Gabi yelled again.

“Coming!” we said in unison, making our way back through the house.

Gabi was in the kitchen prepping the hamburgers and hot dogs.

She frowned at us. “Blake, are you okay?” Her eyes fell on me in a crabby stare.

“Yeah.” Blake touched her cheeks. “Let me just run upstairs real quick and get the mascara smudges.”

I watched her run off.

Meaning I didn’t duck and cover.

Gabi clocked me in the shoulder, then reared back like she was aiming for my face.

“What?” I stumbled back from her. “I didn’t make her cry!”

Gabi didn’t look convinced. “I told you to stay away from her!”

“And I did.” I held up my hands in surrender. “Technically.”

“Technically?”

“Shit, you have that look in your eyes again. Gabs, she likes David, I’m helping her with David. End of story.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

“I wish,” I grumbled.

Gabi frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Nothing. Hey, Lex is late—I’m going to go call him.” I turned to leave but was tugged back by the loop in my jeans.

“Speak.”

“Lex could be dead.”

“Don’t care.”

“In a very serious accident, and we’re running out of time.”

“Out with it.”