The Billionaire's Matchmaker(6)

Dog? Then TJ made the connection with the terrier waiting patiently by Gabby’s side. Behind the dog, on one side of the store was a painted mural of a bucolic park scene, which somehow seemed apt for the Jack Russell. “This is Charlie? Your dog?”

“Not mine. Mr. Bonaparte’s. I’m dog-sitting for a few weeks. That’s what he hired me to do. That meeting wasn’t about art after all.”


T.J. exhaled with relief. He hadn’t realized until then how much he’d been counting on Gabby being available and willing to make this trip with him. For months, he’d been feeling this longing to return to his roots. No, not his roots—the unfinished business he’d left in Chandler’s Cove.

Unfinished business named Gabby.

All these years, he’d left that one story incomplete, a loose end that threaded through his thoughts. Had he missed his chance with her years before because he hadn’t taken a big enough risk? If he tried again with Gabby, would the results be different this time? There was only one way to know.

“I’d love to hitch a ride with you. It’ll be just like old times,” he said, taking a step closer, and thinking that was the last thing he wanted was old times and the way things used to be, “you and me together, walking on the wild side.”

She raised her chin and met his gaze. “I don’t do that anymore. I’m a respectable tax-paying citizen now.”

“Pity,” he said, while the urge to kiss her and be with her, to be part of her world again, raged inside him, “because you being rebellious was the highlight of my days.”

A smile curved up one side of her face, a smile that told T.J. there was still hope, still a connection, and maybe a little of the old Gabby left after all. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint you, but I’m not planning on ending up in jail on this trip.”

“That’s okay,” he said, meeting her deep green eyes with his own. “Neither do I. I told you, Gabby. I’ve changed.”

She gave him a long, assessing gaze. “That remains to be seen.”

T.J. figured he had hundreds of miles to change her mind about him, and to make up for letting her down in the past. He could only hope they didn’t run out of road before he could make everything right again.





Chapter Three



Gabby regretted the decision to let T.J. ride along almost the instant she agreed. This was the guy who had disappointed her, hurt her, the one who used to be her best friend then proved the opposite. Why was he back in town? Why this sudden interest in her? And why was she alternately dreading and anticipating the next few days together?

They were opposites. Always had been, always would be. Wild, unpredictable Gabby and nerdy, practical T.J. They might have been friends once but anything more than that would be insane. Then why had her body reacted with the instantaneous ping of a coin with a metal detector?

She flicked a glance at T.J.’s profile, outlined by the sun and white snow-covered landscape seen through the passenger’s side window. Damn, he was handsome. Sexy. Desirable. How had she never noticed it before? Was it because he’d ditched the glasses and opted for contacts?

No, it was more than that. It was the way he carried himself with self-assuredness. The geeky, shy kid she knew in high school, the same one who had tempered her wild side with his voice of caution and restraint, had been replaced by a man who knew his place in the world. That kind of confidence was…intoxicating. It had her looking at T.J. as a man, not as an old friend from high school. And the part that noticed him as a man…

Well, that part kept her pulse racing and a simmering heat brewing in her gut. More than once since she first saw him outside of Mr. Bonaparte’s mansion, she’d had to push aside the image of him kissing her, touching her, taking her to bed—

This is T.J., she reminded herself. Plain old T.J. About as exciting as buttered bread.

No, that wasn’t exactly true. T.J. might have been practical and bookish, but he’d always had this edge to him, as if there was a door he was keeping shut. It had intrigued her and attracted her and driven her to get him to open up, to let her in. But when he’d wanted more, wanted a real relationship, the scared rebel in her ran.

Truth be told, he’d always been more exciting and attractive to her than she’d admitted to him, or to herself. She’d missed him over the years. A lot. But she’d be damned if she’d admit any of those things to him now, especially after the years of silence.

Charlie had his little head propped between the bucket seats, his tail thwapping a happy beat against the leather while T.J. scratched him behind the ears. Clearly, T.J. already had the Charlie stamp of approval.

“He doesn’t like men too much,” Gabby said. “You’re one of the few I’ve seen him warm up to.”

“He must be an outstanding judge of character.” T.J. grinned.

“Or a sucker for potato chips.” She gestured toward the bag T.J. had opened a little while ago. “Mr. B would have a heart attack if he knew you were feeding Ruffles to St. Clair Charles Osgood.”

T.J. rubbed Charlie’s head. “We’ll keep that between us, won’t we, buddy?”

Charlie yipped and pressed his head against T.J.’s arm. His tail tap-tapped agreement.

“If all it takes is some fried potatoes to warm up to me…” T.J. said, tipping the bag in her direction, “would you like some potato chips?”