yourself over it.”
“It’s not a sacrifice. It will be fun.”
“An evening doing a planting design is fun?”
“There might be wine involved. Since we started Urban Genie there is no such thing as an evening off.” She paused as one of his team presented him with a form to sign.
He scrawled his signature in bold, black ink. “Did you check it, Roxy?”
“Yes, boss.” The girl grinned and gave a little salute. “Learned that lesson the last time.”
Matt watched Roxy walk away. “It’s Friday night. When did you last go on a date?”
Frankie stared after the girl, wondering how she could bend down in jeans that tight. “I don’t think she heard you.”
“I wasn’t talking to her, I was talking to you.”
“
Me?
Oh—” She hesitated, knowing that her answer wasn’t going to paint a picture of her as the epitome of urban sophistication. “Well—I don’t know—I’ve been busy—I don’t date that much.” What was the point in lying when he already knew she wasn’t a party animal? “When I date, I almost always regret it so I’m just as happy spending the evening thinking about plants.”
He removed his sunglasses slowly. “Why do you regret it?”
His eyes were the most incredible blue, warm, interested and focused on her.
She felt as if her insides were slowly melting. “I’m not good at it.”
“It’s dating. The only requirement is to spend time with someone. How can you not be
good
at it?”
The fact that he’d even ask her that question revealed the massive gulf in their life experience and expectations, as well as how little he knew about her dating history. And how little he seemed to understand her hang-ups, despite the whole glasses incident. And why would he? Matt was confident and self-assured. Dating was unlikely to be something that made him consider therapy.
“It’s the pressure.” She tried to explain. “Will you like them and will they like you. Do you have to be more this or less that. Dating a stranger is pretty fake, isn’t it? People project an image. You see what they want you to see and they often hide who they really are. It’s like going out with a mask on. I don’t have the energy for it.” It was an under-Statement.She found it monumentally stressful, which was why she’d cut it out of her life.
“How about going out and being yourself? Does that ever happen?”
“That doesn’t usually work.”
“How can being yourself not work?”
She was acutely conscious of the people working around them and wondered how the conversation had blended so seamlessly from talk of buds and blooms to her own phobias.
And it wasn’t just the conversation that unsettled her. It was the way he focused on her, with that lazy, sexy gaze, as if she was the only person on the roof. In New York City.
In the world.
She’d always felt safe with Matt, but right now she didn’t feel safe. She was trying to stay in her comfort zone and he seemed determined to nudge her out of it. Which wasn’t like him.
She was filled with a whole bunch of feelings she didn’t recognize and had no idea what to do with.
“I don’t expect you to understand. When you’re with a woman it’s probably very simple.”
He lifted his hand and pushed her hair back from her face. She felt the rough pads of his fingertips brush gently against her skin and started to tremble.
“When I’m with a woman,” he said softly, “I want her to be herself. If someone isn’t interested in who you really are, or in showing you who they really are, you’re probably wasting your time dating them.”
He let his hand drop but the trembling didn’t stop. It was as if he’d hit a trigger point. She saw his face through a blur of sunlight and the feverish patterns created by her own brain.
When I’m with a woman
…
All she could think was
lucky woman.
The atmosphere was electric and she felt that strange rush of awareness brush across her skin. Her heart was pounding so hard she expected
“It’s not a sacrifice. It will be fun.”
“An evening doing a planting design is fun?”
“There might be wine involved. Since we started Urban Genie there is no such thing as an evening off.” She paused as one of his team presented him with a form to sign.
He scrawled his signature in bold, black ink. “Did you check it, Roxy?”
“Yes, boss.” The girl grinned and gave a little salute. “Learned that lesson the last time.”
Matt watched Roxy walk away. “It’s Friday night. When did you last go on a date?”
Frankie stared after the girl, wondering how she could bend down in jeans that tight. “I don’t think she heard you.”
“I wasn’t talking to her, I was talking to you.”
“
Me?
Oh—” She hesitated, knowing that her answer wasn’t going to paint a picture of her as the epitome of urban sophistication. “Well—I don’t know—I’ve been busy—I don’t date that much.” What was the point in lying when he already knew she wasn’t a party animal? “When I date, I almost always regret it so I’m just as happy spending the evening thinking about plants.”
He removed his sunglasses slowly. “Why do you regret it?”
His eyes were the most incredible blue, warm, interested and focused on her.
She felt as if her insides were slowly melting. “I’m not good at it.”
“It’s dating. The only requirement is to spend time with someone. How can you not be
good
at it?”
The fact that he’d even ask her that question revealed the massive gulf in their life experience and expectations, as well as how little he knew about her dating history. And how little he seemed to understand her hang-ups, despite the whole glasses incident. And why would he? Matt was confident and self-assured. Dating was unlikely to be something that made him consider therapy.
“It’s the pressure.” She tried to explain. “Will you like them and will they like you. Do you have to be more this or less that. Dating a stranger is pretty fake, isn’t it? People project an image. You see what they want you to see and they often hide who they really are. It’s like going out with a mask on. I don’t have the energy for it.” It was an under-Statement.She found it monumentally stressful, which was why she’d cut it out of her life.
“How about going out and being yourself? Does that ever happen?”
“That doesn’t usually work.”
“How can being yourself not work?”
She was acutely conscious of the people working around them and wondered how the conversation had blended so seamlessly from talk of buds and blooms to her own phobias.
And it wasn’t just the conversation that unsettled her. It was the way he focused on her, with that lazy, sexy gaze, as if she was the only person on the roof. In New York City.
In the world.
She’d always felt safe with Matt, but right now she didn’t feel safe. She was trying to stay in her comfort zone and he seemed determined to nudge her out of it. Which wasn’t like him.
She was filled with a whole bunch of feelings she didn’t recognize and had no idea what to do with.
“I don’t expect you to understand. When you’re with a woman it’s probably very simple.”
He lifted his hand and pushed her hair back from her face. She felt the rough pads of his fingertips brush gently against her skin and started to tremble.
“When I’m with a woman,” he said softly, “I want her to be herself. If someone isn’t interested in who you really are, or in showing you who they really are, you’re probably wasting your time dating them.”
He let his hand drop but the trembling didn’t stop. It was as if he’d hit a trigger point. She saw his face through a blur of sunlight and the feverish patterns created by her own brain.
When I’m with a woman
…
All she could think was
lucky woman.
The atmosphere was electric and she felt that strange rush of awareness brush across her skin. Her heart was pounding so hard she expected
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