Sweet-Talking Silas (Matchmaking in Granville #3)

Chapter 1

Men are like pancakes. The first few will be duds. Keep cooking!

— MATCHMAKING MAMAS

Silas

Taco Loco was buzzing with animated chatter during Happy Hour. I detoured around two tables and took the long route to the corner where my two best friends, Maverick and Jamie, waited for our weekly bitch sesh.

Even so, the bartender noticed me. He lifted his big hand and waggled it at me.

“Drinks on me tonight, Sy!”

I ducked my head and sped up, pretending I hadn’t noticed. Paxton was hot. Seriously model-worthy genes in that man. I’d flirted with him for months hoping to get a closer view.

We’d finally hooked up last weekend, and…the sex had been bad. Really bad. The kind of bad that I didn’t know still happened outside of high school.

I shuddered and tried not to think about it as I took my seat with Maverick and Jamie. Thankfully, they’d ordered before I arrived, and a beautiful red cocktail sat waiting.

If nothing else, Paxton made a damn good cosmo.

I dropped into the chair with a sigh and picked up my drink. “Hey, guys. Thanks for ordering.”

“Sure,” Jamie said. “Usually, I’m the one who’s late, but now that I’m out of catering, I have more time than I know what to do with.”

“Stop bragging,” I snarked. “I had to drive one of my brides to Omaha today to go to three—count them, three—bridal shops to look at gowns because she let her mom talk her into the first one and realized she hated it.”

“Oy.” Maverick grimaced. “Is that even your job?”

I heaved a sigh. “My job is to help my couples organize a perfect, stress-free event. So, if watching her try on gowns and reassuring her that she’s chosen the perfect one makes her feel better, then that’s what I do.”

“That’s sweet,” Jamie said.

“But weird.” Maverick took a sip of his margarita on the rocks. “You’re so good at helping engaged couples, and yet too jaded to even date someone.”

I shrugged. “Gotta pay the bills somehow. I’m good at organizing shit.”

Maverick didn’t look convinced, but the server arrived, saving me from the usual lecture about love and all its wonderful benefits. I liked my friends, but they were far more annoying now that they’d coupled up with their dream men.

The server, a bubbly teen with the nametag Olivia, took our orders: a taco salad for me, and a taco sampler platter for Jamie and Maverick. You could order other Tex-Mex entrees here, but the name was Taco Loco for a reason. They did amazing gourmet tacos.

My bespoke suits were getting a little snug, though. I’d failed to exercise lately—unless you counted pacing the perimeter of a wedding ceremony or mediocre sex—so I stuck to the salad and skipped the carbs.

Other than those in my cosmo. My glass was nearly empty.

“Can you bring me another drink, please?” I asked Olivia.

“Sure.” She glanced at Maverick and Jamie. “Refills?”

“Uh, sure,” Mav said.

When she’d walked off, he raised his eyebrows at me. “Usually, you’re volunteering to run up to the bar so you can flirt with Paxton.”

I grimaced. “Yeah, about that…”

I glanced over on reflex. Paxton was watching me. He smiled and nodded. I turned away quickly.

“Uh-oh,” Maverick said. “You’ve got the fuck-and-run blues.”

“The what?” Jamie asked.

“He fucked the bartender. Then he ran. Only now, he has to see him when we come for Happy Hour.”

“We could switch bars,” I suggested.

“No way,” Maverick said. “It’s not our fault you fucked where you drink. Live with it.”

I glowered. “Rude.”

“Fair,” he countered.

Jamie looked confused, the poor summer child.

“You spent months lusting after that guy. Why not date him?”

“You know I don’t do that.” I rolled my eyes. “I spend enough time explaining it to Aunt Lula and Iola. I don’t want to go through this with you guys, too.”

“Are the Matchmaking Mamas still bugging you?” Maverick asked. “I figured they’d given you up as a hopeless case by now.”

I snorted. “They don’t know the meaning of the phrase give up.”

“That’s probably true,” he said with a laugh.

My great-aunt and some of her closest friends ran a wacky matchmaking service, which mostly consisted of them harassing young people into blind dates.

It was sheer luck that any of them worked out.

Maverick and Damon had been neighbors and would have ended up together regardless, but Mav’s matchmaking dates had given Damon the push he needed to recognize his feelings.

And they’d totally screwed the pooch with Jamie, sending him to meet a straight guy who expected to date a woman.

By some miracle, Hank had come around to loving Jamie, and the Matchmaking Mamas took credit for another success story, even though it could have been a fucking disaster.

They’d been after me to sign up for months now, and I was fighting it because someone had to stand up to them. But it was getting increasingly difficult when they kept texting me potential date profiles and giving me the numbers of random men waiting for my call.

Jamie dipped a chip and bit into it. “Don’t you get lonely, though? I mean, there’s more to life than sex.”

“I have friends for that.”

“Friends who are coupled up now,” Jamie said.

I shifted, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going.

Yes, it was mildly annoying my friends were ga-ga for their boyfriends these days.

We spent a lot less time hanging out. But I wasn’t jealous.

I had plenty to keep me busy. I was the top wedding planner in the whole damn county, and I was young and hot.

While they stayed home playing happy couple, I went out and hooked up with sexy men in Omaha.

“I’m happy for you both,” I said dismissively. “Just don’t think you’re getting out of Happy Hour every week.”

Maverick laughed. “Never. I need my margarita and bitch fix.”

“You have a lot less to bitch about now that you and Damon aren’t at war,” I said. “What’s new with you?”

“Well, I’ve got wedding season right around the corner. You might know something about that?”

I chuckled. “Yeah.”

It was early March, and we had solid wedding bookings through June. I had the Jameses slated for next weekend, with two more coming in April.

I’d get even busier in May and June, but I liked it that way.

The conversation flowed from Maverick’s flower shop to Jamie’s new venture as an official dog biscuit baker. He had joined BowWow, a doggy grooming and day care business, where his boyfriend Hank also worked.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Jamie said. “Hank and I were thinking we should all get together. You guys, Damon, and us. What do you think?”

“So I get to be the fifth wheel?” I said. “No, thanks.”

“You could bring a date.” At my irritable look, he added, “Even if it’s just for one night, right? You’re not actually allergic to dating, are you?”

“I break out in hives,” I said dryly.

“I guess we could do a double date if Silas doesn’t want to come,” Jamie said tentatively. “What do you think? I want Hank and Damon to get to know each other better.”

Maverick glanced at me uncertainly. I waved a hand.

“By all means, go play show and tell with your men.”

“You make that sound dirty,” Maverick said with a chuckle.

Jamie’s eyes widened at the thought, cheeks going pink. “Silas!”

I laughed, ignoring the little twist of discomfort in my stomach at the thought of the four of them having dinner without me. “I’m just kidding. You guys should have fun. I’ll find some way to entertain myself.”

“Clubbing in Omaha?” Maverick guessed.

“Why not?” I held up my drink. “Here’s to double dates and single hookups.”

My friends gamely raised their glasses and clinked them against mine.

I raised my glass to my lips.

“And to Silas finding love too!” Jamie rushed out.

I choked on my cosmo as Maverick laughed and slapped my back.

“Devious,” I rasped out.

“What?” Jamie blinked, looking innocent. “I just want you to be happy, too.”

I scowled. “I don’t need love for that. I just need a nice, big di—”

Maverick shoved a chip in my mouth to shut me up. Just as well. There was no point arguing. My two friends meant well, but they’d never understand.

I wasn’t like them.

There would be no happy-ever-after for me. Not outside the vows I helped my brides and grooms create, anyway.

That was okay by me. While other people made promises they couldn’t keep, I simply moved on to another man.

I glanced at the bartender and grimaced.

And hopefully better sex.