Maybe Matt's Miracle(28)

I get my purse and put it over my shoulder. I’d follow him just about anywhere right now. I walk toward him and step up onto my tiptoes. He bends down a little and puts his cheek in front of me. I groan, but I kiss it quickly. He covers the wet spot with his hand. “I’m going to hold it there the rest of the day,” he says.

“You use these moves on every woman you meet?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Just telling you how I feel,” he says. He looks into my eyes, and I see nothing but sincerity.

He opens the front door for me, and his hand lands at the small of my back to guide me through it. Goodness, I’m ready to melt. After we’re through the door, he reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. I look up at him.

“This okay?” he asks.

I nod, and we continue that way to the corner bistro.

“You’re quiet,” he says as the waiter seats us. It’s a busy place, but the food is amazing and a lot of people from our office come here. I slide into the booth, and he slides in beside me.

I startle a little. “Oh,” I breathe.

“This okay?” he asks. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Fine.”

He looks at the menu. “What’s good?” he asks.

Do I have to behave and pretend to count calories? Or can I get what I want? I look into his face. I just can’t gauge him.

“What?” he asks, but he’s smiling.

“Will you be disgusted if I get the really fattening Reuben with chips?”

His brow furrows. “Why would that disgust me?”

I lay a hand on my stomach. “I’m starving.”

The waiter comes back, and Matt orders two Reubens with chips and sodas. “I think you’re pretty damn adorable, you know that?” He turns a little to face me.

“Right back at you,” I say, lifting my straw to my mouth. I take a sip, and he watches me closely. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Just a smile,” he says. “I like it.”

I grin even more. “Me, too.”

“So Seth has a match tomorrow,” he reminds me. “Do you care if I go?”

“Seth invited you, didn’t he?”

He nods. “But I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.”

I look into his eyes. “You’re wanted,” I say. My heart starts to thump.

“Ditto,” he says. “I love wrestling. All my brothers wrestled. Including me.”

“Did you say Seth is pretty good?”

He nods. “Regional champ for his weight last year,” he says. “He’s really good. Good enough he might be able to get a scholarship.”

“Wow,” I breathe. “That’s pretty amazing.”

“Their mom left money for college, right?” he asks.

I nod. The waiter brings our food, and Matt is apparently comfortable with eating and talking. “There was an insurance policy that’s very generous,” I tell him. “Enough to take care of them.”

“She was pretty good about planning,” he says. “Your dad helped her a lot, too, with managing money.”

“What did she do for a living?” I ask. I really don’t know much about my half sister. Not much at all.

“She was an attorney. I think she practiced criminal law.”

“Putting away the bad guys.”

He nods. “When she could.”

“I don’t do anything quite that sacrificial.”

“What kind of law do you practice?” He is giving me all the attention he’s not giving to that sandwich.

“IP law,” I tell him. “Intellectual property.”

He nods. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

He grins. He looks over my shoulder toward the other side of the room. “Your boyfriend is here,” he says, not looking at me.

I look over my shoulder and see Phillip with some of my colleagues. He raises his glass in my direction. If I were closer, I’d throw my soda at him.

“You guys didn’t end things well, did you?”

I shake my head, pretending to be really engrossed in my sandwich. But I really don’t want to talk about Phillip.

“Are you sad?” he asks.

“Only that you’re talking about it,” I toss back.

He grins. “Point taken.” His voice drops to a sultry growl. “When I finally get in your bed, I promise not to be selfish,” I say.

My heart stalls. “You have been talking to Seth,” I say. “I’m going to have to have a chat with him about privacy.”

Matt stills. “Sorry. I was just teasing. I won’t do it anymore. Seth very offhandedly told me about your breakup. He wasn’t ratting you out or anything.”

“That’s good to know.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Embarrassed that you have intimate knowledge of my sex life.” I finish off my pickle and dust my hands together. “I do have to get back to work,” I say.

“Fuck, I messed it up,” he says, tossing his napkin onto his plate. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He peels off enough cash to cover the bill and a generous tip and leaves it on the table.