They don't think I should fight anymore, but I thought with something protective enough I'd be okay. You raised good questions though. I'll have to think about it."
Suddenly it all clicked: his surliness, his focused determination to do nothing but work on his project, and his isolation. She'd Google him later, but she bet he'd been a good fighter, too.
She wondered if the mouthpiece would really protect him that much. She didn't like the thought of him hurt—at all.
But he obviously cared about this a lot, and her intuition told her this could be a great product. "You should market this. I mean, use it yourself, but sell it to others, too. Remember the old Hair Club for Men ads? You could be not just the owner but a customer, too."
"I don't know the first thing about marketing."
She shrugged. "You can hire a company to handle the sales and marketing while you drink daiquiris on a beach somewhere. It'd be profitable, even if you gave someone a share of the business. You could even start a whole line of protective equipment."
He stared at her blankly, as if she'd just sprouted another head.
"I just think about stuff like that a lot." She hid her face in the drink. "Sorry. I get carried away."
"How do you know all that?" he asked, leaning against a chair.
Not wanting to get into it, she shrugged. "I dabble."
" A dabbling matchmaker? "
" I don't know about the matchmaker part. " She made a face that only partially had to do with the whiskey." I'm not very good at it but I'm fated to it, so I don't have a choice. "
" How are you fated? "
"T he firstborn girl in my family carries on the matchmaking business. They say I was born two minutes before Isabella. Except there was a mix-up, and Isabella has more talent matchmaking than I do. " She listed toward him." Can I make a confession? I'm awful at it. "
"Whoa." He steadied her and took her glass away. "I think you're cut off."
"No kidding." She leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Nice."
"Valentine?"
She looked him in the eye. "I want to do this."
"This?" he asked slowly.
"This." She gestured between the two of them. "But only one time."
"Why only one time?"
She felt the rumble of his words through his chest, and it echoed pleasantly inside her. "Because I don't want to kill my mom, and if she found out I broke Grandma's rule, trust me, it'd kill her."
He lifted her chin. "I'm telling you now, I'm not dating anyone other than you."
She pouted unhappily. "You have to."
"Why?"
"Because my mom's heart will break if you don't."
Ethan gripped her firmly. "My heart will break if I do."
Her girlie parts sighed deliriously, but the underlying misery prevailed. "I told you, you don't have a choice."
" Everyone has a choice, Valentine. " He touched his thumb to her lips. "Don't you want me? "
She did—so badly. "I can't want you."
"So our kiss didn't mean anything to you?"
" No. Yes. " She heaved a sigh." I mean , it was inappropriate for me to do that. You're my client. I violated one of our rules of conduct. "
" You were very inappropriate . "He walked her backward.
H er heart began to pound a s she backed up. "I'm sorry," she said, hearing the insincerity in her own voice.
" I'm not. "
H er back hit the wall ." You aren't? "
" Not at all. " He bracketed her with his arms. " In fact, I'd like you to be inappropriate again. "
" Oh. "S he inhaled, the possibilities making her breathless. She shook her head. " I couldn't. I'm your matchmaker. "
" You're fired. "
She frowned. " You can't fire me. "
" T h en find me what I want. "H e slipped his finger inside the placket of her buttoned sweater. " I like sassy women with sweet mouths, who wear little sweaters with pearls. And I'm partial to red hair. "
She swallowed thickly , heart pounding, torn between guilt and need. She thought about her mom, resting after her little episode, and groaned. " This is so wrong. "
" And yet so right ," he said as he kissed her.
Just once, she assured
Suddenly it all clicked: his surliness, his focused determination to do nothing but work on his project, and his isolation. She'd Google him later, but she bet he'd been a good fighter, too.
She wondered if the mouthpiece would really protect him that much. She didn't like the thought of him hurt—at all.
But he obviously cared about this a lot, and her intuition told her this could be a great product. "You should market this. I mean, use it yourself, but sell it to others, too. Remember the old Hair Club for Men ads? You could be not just the owner but a customer, too."
"I don't know the first thing about marketing."
She shrugged. "You can hire a company to handle the sales and marketing while you drink daiquiris on a beach somewhere. It'd be profitable, even if you gave someone a share of the business. You could even start a whole line of protective equipment."
He stared at her blankly, as if she'd just sprouted another head.
"I just think about stuff like that a lot." She hid her face in the drink. "Sorry. I get carried away."
"How do you know all that?" he asked, leaning against a chair.
Not wanting to get into it, she shrugged. "I dabble."
" A dabbling matchmaker? "
" I don't know about the matchmaker part. " She made a face that only partially had to do with the whiskey." I'm not very good at it but I'm fated to it, so I don't have a choice. "
" How are you fated? "
"T he firstborn girl in my family carries on the matchmaking business. They say I was born two minutes before Isabella. Except there was a mix-up, and Isabella has more talent matchmaking than I do. " She listed toward him." Can I make a confession? I'm awful at it. "
"Whoa." He steadied her and took her glass away. "I think you're cut off."
"No kidding." She leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Nice."
"Valentine?"
She looked him in the eye. "I want to do this."
"This?" he asked slowly.
"This." She gestured between the two of them. "But only one time."
"Why only one time?"
She felt the rumble of his words through his chest, and it echoed pleasantly inside her. "Because I don't want to kill my mom, and if she found out I broke Grandma's rule, trust me, it'd kill her."
He lifted her chin. "I'm telling you now, I'm not dating anyone other than you."
She pouted unhappily. "You have to."
"Why?"
"Because my mom's heart will break if you don't."
Ethan gripped her firmly. "My heart will break if I do."
Her girlie parts sighed deliriously, but the underlying misery prevailed. "I told you, you don't have a choice."
" Everyone has a choice, Valentine. " He touched his thumb to her lips. "Don't you want me? "
She did—so badly. "I can't want you."
"So our kiss didn't mean anything to you?"
" No. Yes. " She heaved a sigh." I mean , it was inappropriate for me to do that. You're my client. I violated one of our rules of conduct. "
" You were very inappropriate . "He walked her backward.
H er heart began to pound a s she backed up. "I'm sorry," she said, hearing the insincerity in her own voice.
" I'm not. "
H er back hit the wall ." You aren't? "
" Not at all. " He bracketed her with his arms. " In fact, I'd like you to be inappropriate again. "
" Oh. "S he inhaled, the possibilities making her breathless. She shook her head. " I couldn't. I'm your matchmaker. "
" You're fired. "
She frowned. " You can't fire me. "
" T h en find me what I want. "H e slipped his finger inside the placket of her buttoned sweater. " I like sassy women with sweet mouths, who wear little sweaters with pearls. And I'm partial to red hair. "
She swallowed thickly , heart pounding, torn between guilt and need. She thought about her mom, resting after her little episode, and groaned. " This is so wrong. "
" And yet so right ," he said as he kissed her.
Just once, she assured
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