Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Nobody is perfect!
From the self-help book for self-pitiers by psychologist Rachel James
Speak for yourself. - Connor
Rachel was finding it difficult to think clearly.
Last night, she’d slept restlessly after her conversation with that stupid divorce lawyer.
She didn’t feel comfortable agreeing with Connor Stone, but the longer she thought about it, the clearer it became that Dwayne had indeed been an asshole.
A friendly one, but…that didn’t necessarily make it better.
She was so used to hiding how ambitious and intelligent she was in front of men that she hadn’t questioned it at first. Dwayne hadn’t been the first man to tell her he was looking for a different type of woman.
On paper, he’d been exactly what she was looking for, so she’d wanted to be…right for him. She’d been wrong too many times in her life – supposed perfection or not.
Now she stood in the bakery a few doors down from Maddie’s old apartment – which was now her new one – wondering how the shirtless guy who, for some reason, was holding a metal detector and jogging along the boardwalk toward her could look so annoyingly hot — and be right, too!
Men weren’t supposed to be smart, have a sense of humor, look good, and be right. That wasn’t natural.
Especially not for that man. Her mouth should be watering because of the donut in her hand, not because sunlight was catching every ridge and dip of Connor Stone’s toned body…and the metal detector. Whatever he was doing with that.
Rachel sighed, raised her other hand to the baker in parting, and left the shop. In her professional estimation, she was spending too much time thinking about Connor Stone and too little time getting her own life under control. Although she had made some progress in that area, she thought!
She had a promising second date soon. She’d started conducting one-on-one interviews with Maddie and her richer, more famous clients, those who couldn’t just date anyone, to ensure even greater compatibility through a psychological assessment.
It helped to know two people personally so they could tell whether they were compatible or not.
And it was good to finally be working again.
Rachel felt like she was doing something meaningful once more: She was helping people find love.
She was finding a piece of herself. Not like the last six months, when she hadn’t been able to practice because her license was under scrutiny.
God, she just hoped the nightmare would soon end and she could start over.
It wouldn’t really be worth telling her siblings about it until it was all over, right?
She’d see Lucy tomorrow. They were going to do yoga on the beach with Maddie...but that would be too soon to tell them.
Rachel! a voice in her head snapped at her, sounding an awful lot like Maya.
Yeah, yeah.
“Finding the love of other people’s lives must be a lot of fun, if it leads to frown lines before nine o’clock,” a dark voice said, and Rachel stopped abruptly.
She lifted her eyes and looked straight at a glistening collarbone. Damn. She should have been paying more attention. Ignoring someone was so much easier when you knew precisely where they were at any given time!
She jutted out her chin and pointedly focused her gaze on the bead of sweat rolling down Connor’s strong neck and onto his muscular chest. She had never considered a life as a sweat bead a desirable one, but right now, it didn’t seem like the worst fate.
Oh God. Had Connor been doubly right? Did she really need an invigorating orgasm?
“One frowns when thinking,” she explained patiently, ignoring the heat spreading through her lower abdomen. “I know the concept is foreign to you, but you should give thinking a try! I’d give it five out of five stars any day.”
To her annoyance, Connor smiled mischievously. “No, thanks. I’ve been doing pretty well with doing so far.” He leaned forward and examined her forehead critically. “And it causes fewer wrinkles.”
Oh, the jerk. Rachel had to stop herself from smoothing her frown lines with her fingers, deciding instead to gracefully change the subject. “Are you ready for the next date? I have a date on Friday at Galette — the French restaurant. It was his idea. I like thinking men.”
“Naturally, so they have more wrinkles than you.”
She snorted. “Who’s the shallow one here? By the way, he’s a cameraman, wants kids, loves to spoil his woman…”
“Oh, please, tell me more,” Connor said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe he’s right for me too. What time are you meeting?”
“Seven. The perfect time to…”
“Wonderful.” He smiled broadly. “I’ll be there. I’ll find a date by then.”
She stared at him, her mouth gaping, a latent unease filling her chest, as if a swarm of wasps inside her had suddenly become angry. “Um, that wasn’t an invitation for a double date.”
“Hmm,” he remarked, unimpressed. “Then you were being vague.”
Now he sounded like Maya.
“Besides, it’s only fair,” he continued unperturbed. “The test will be more accurate if we have exactly the same conditions for falling in love. Don’t you think?”
His smile was far too innocent for Rachel’s taste. The bastard was planning something, but she certainly wasn’t afraid of him.
“All right,” she replied. “You should bring your metal detector too.”
“No. It’s shy.”
She snorted. “What exactly are you doing with it?”
“I was involved in a shootout yesterday with two kids, the Dalai Lama, and a guide dog. I was searching the beach for my bullets. They were a gift from Lucifer.”
She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling or, heaven forbid, laughing. That might send the wrong signals. “Funny.”
He raised one shoulder. “I am merely living up to my reputation.”
“Then you’ll have to be more persistent with trying to get me into bed.” The words had left her mouth before she could stop them — and she immediately regretted them.
Connor’s gaze suddenly darkened. His lips curved into a small smile that hit her right in the traitorous uterus.
“Ah,” he said softly, scratching his bare chest, as if she needed another reason to look.
Connor raised his eyebrows and let his gaze slide slowly down her.
It felt like he was exploring her with his fingers, as if his strong palms were running over the bare skin of her arms and legs.
“The problem is,” he said calmly, “I only sleep with women I like. So don’t get your hopes up too much.
Although it’s a real shame. You’re missing out. ”
He took a jerky step back before walking past her toward the bakery. Rolling her eyes, she watched him go, even though her abdomen was still tightening and her throat felt uncomfortably tight. You’re missing out.
“And you need to stop thinking of us men as just sexy objects,” Connor said, turning around again and dramatically placing his hand on his bare chest. “Because that’s exactly how I felt when you spent ten minutes shamelessly staring at me through the bakery window.
I’m more than just my body, Rachel.” He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval and disappeared into the shop.
Annoyed, she groaned. Maybe this round was his.
She trudged back to the agency to give Hailey and Maddie their baked goods.
Five minutes later, she watched Connor head back toward his office.
He stopped briefly to see Winnie, the homeless man who lived on the beach and was part of the family, Maddie had told her.
He handed him a bag, exchanged a few words that made both laugh, and then disappeared.
Who the hell was this guy? He was a womanizer but brought Winnie food. She had thought it would be satisfying to pin down what made him tick, to figure out his fundamental values. Instead, it only frustrated her; his personality still didn’t match what she thought it should.
She was so annoyed that she googled him and spent an hour reading the first ten pages of entries until she…
Oh.
Oh, that was wonderful!
A broad smile spread across her face as she opened the website, because a domain with the name could only mean good things for her. If he were planning something for their faux double-date on Friday…she’d be prepared.
“Nothing in my life has prepared me for this,” Maddie gasped and grunted as they shifted into downward-facing dog. Or, as Maddie put it, upward-facing "kitty." “I race into so many elevators, why am I not in better shape?”
Lucy sighed. “Slow down, Rachel. Otherwise, she’ll die!”
“No, no. I’m only red because I’m glowing from within.”
“It’s your own fault you joined, Maddie,” Lucy chimed in, sitting on her yoga mat, sunglasses on, her hands clasped behind her neck, in a special position: the lying-down dog who wanted a belly rub before her next nap.
“We were supposed to do yoga,” Rachel reminded her, snorting and shifting into the little cobra pose.
“Yeah, and I said I’d come to yoga, not that I’d participate,” Lucy replied lightly. “I sweat during sex and when I eat spicy food. Anything else isn’t an option for me.”
Rachel grinned. “You’ve always had your principles. Not fucking a hockey player, for example. How’s your darling Dax doing, the Dax who scored the most goals for the Hawks last season?”
“He's doing great,” she replied cheerfully. “Even if he feels pressured by Matt, who asked Maddie to marry him so quickly. Even though I told him I’m not ready yet. I only stopped hating him a year ago.”
Rachel laughed. It was absurd that not one, but both of her sisters had ended up with a hot hockey player. That was the problem with letting good looks influence you. Which…Rachel did not.
“And back into downward dog,” she said. Maddie, whining loudly, changed positions again. “You’re so incredibly athletic, Rachel!”