The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(24)

“Not worried about the interview. I’m going for the matchmaker.”

“What?” She laughs, but I don’t.

Last night was the best night I’ve had in years, and not because I was having fun at a bar with old friends. There’s something about being in Cassie’s presence, talking to her, getting to know her. Watching her finally relax and interact with my friends… something about it called to me. It was the perfect night.

And then the kiss. It took everything in me not to ask to come inside, to follow her into her bed. But my parents raised me better, and she was tipsy. So, when I finally have her, there will be no question if she wants this. Wants us.

“Luke, what do you mean you’re ‘going for the matchmaker’?”

“I said what I said.”

“Luke, that’s not how this—” Her chiding mother tone is out, the same one my mom still uses on us and the one she uses on her own kids now.

“Tara, trust me when I say that’s how this is going to work. I’ve met her before. A few days ago. She was stranded on the side of the road; I helped change her tire. I couldn’t get her off my mind but had no way to know who she was, where she was from. I walked into the restaurant, and there she was.” She’s quiet on the other end of the line. “So I’m going for her. We had a good night. I took her to trivia night with Ben and Chris. You know Chris. She held her own. Made friends with Ben’s brother’s girl.”

“She held her own with Chris?” Tara sounds shocked, but I don’t blame her. Chris is abrasive at best, annoying as fuck at worst. He’s a ladies’ man, loves to flirt, and will turn everything you say into some kind of crude joke. But somehow, Cassie, even with her sometimes uptight personality, was able to bypass his obnoxiousness, turn it around on him, and make it so he’s already texting me, asking when he can come down again to ‘hang with my girl.’

And God, do I love the sound of that. My girl.

“Shocked me too. She’s not laid back by any means. Thought they’d clash.”

“Wasn’t she supposed to plan the date or something like that?”

“Yup.”

“But you took her to trivia night with your friends?”

“She tried to take me to an art museum first,” I say in place of an explanation. My sister is silent on the other end for long moments before she bursts out laughing.

“You? An art museum? God bless her.”

“That’s why we went to trivia night,” I say with a smile on my face, remembering her frustrated look when I told her we were not by any means going into a museum. “We walked to the museum, and I instantly took her to Tommy’s on the boardwalk.” She laughs hard before it simmers into a slight chuckle.

“So you’re going for the matchmaker, huh?”

“Yup.”

“When are you going to bring her to Sunday dinner?”

“Soon, but she’s skittish. I can tell already. I’m going to have to convince her to give it a chance. Give me a chance.”

“Well, if there’s anyone I know who can do it, it’s you.” My sisters have always had all the confidence in the world in me, regardless of the fact they love to poke fun at me. So when my phone vibrates against my ear, indicating a text, I pull it away to see a message from Cassie.

Cassie: Thank you very much for moving my car and replacing my tire. Please send an invoice to my assistant, and I can process payment to you.

“Oh, hell no,” I murmur as I read the text.

“What?”

“Sorry, Cassie texted me. The matchmaker. She wants to pay me.”

“Pay you? For what?” I laugh, knowing her mind is going to some dirty places.

“Calm down. I replaced her tire last night before I brought it back. She had a spare on.”

“Ahh, and your gentleman complex kicked in. Dad did well with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, but I don’t think she’s the kind to easily accept something like that graciously.”

“Well, sounds like you have your work cut out for you.” In the background, two kids screaming can be heard before my sister’s muffled voice yells at them to keep it down. “Alright, I gotta go before your niece and nephew kill each other. Good luck, and let me know when I should bring chocolate cake to Sunday dinner.” That’s how my oldest sister wins everyone over—by baking her famous cake.

“Got it. Tell them if they cooperate, Uncle Luke will bring them something fun on Sunday.” We say our goodbyes before I hang up, staring at my phone and dialing Cassie’s number to set her straight.





Thirteen





-Cassie-





Cassie: Thank you very much for moving my car and replacing my tire. Please send an invoice to my assistant, and I can process payment to you.

Done. I place my phone on my desk after sending the message to Luke. Now I can concentrate on work. Opening an email from a potential new client, I start to read it.

Five minutes later, I try to ignore the fact I’ve been staring at the screen of my computer the entire time and not a single word has registered in my brain. What the fuck. This isn’t like me at all. I love my job. Love my clients. A new one in my inbox, looking to spend $600 to be matched, should excite me. But my mind is still...