Page 18 of Baby, it's Cold Outside
His laughter vibrates against my skin. “I like girls who need rescuing.”
“Ahh, so you’re a Romeo type?”
“I’m not sure I’m a type at all.”
“Everyone is a type,” I tell him.
Then I sit up and study him. Now that my libido is a little in check, I look at Michael as I would a client. How would I match him? Maybe this is the approach I should take on dating. Leave the emotions and that lusty goodness out and start to be analytical, the way I would if I were helping a client.
This thought has merit.
“Why do you look like you’re about to dissect me?”
I grin. “Would you let me try?” And then I realize that he probably isn’t thinking the same meaning as I am. “I mean, let me look at you not just as the guy who gave me not one but two fantastic orgasms, but as a potential match for someone.”
“I’m going to regret this.”
“Probably, but it’ll be fun.”
“You know, you’re the second woman today who has tried to set me up.” Michael shakes his head.
“Really?”
“Yeah, my sister, Laura—that’s whose house I was supposed to be at—said there was some girl coming that was”—he air quotes—“just perfect.”
“No way!” I laugh. “Willow, who, err, interrupted us earlier, was trying to do the same. She wanted to drag me to some work party of her fiancé, Reid.”
Michael looks at me a little funny, like he just smelled something weird. “Reid? You said—you said Willow’s fiancé is named Reid?”
“Yes.” I cock my head to one side, recalling something he mentioned a moment ago. “And did you say your sister’s name is Laura?”
“Yeah.”
Chills sweep down my arms, although I’m not cold. “Is your…” I clear my throat, thinking back to what Willow said. “Is your sister’s last name Thompson, by any chance?”
“It is.” Michael swallows and sits up a little straighter in bed. “Is this Reid guy’s last name something Italian?”
“Fortino,” I whisper. We stare at each other, our eyes going wide. I almost expect the music from the Twilight Zone to start playing.
“Oh my God.” Michael blinks, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t fucking believe it.”
“Me neither.” It can’t be…can it?
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks.
“That we were both supposed to be at the same party tonight so that we could be set up…with each other?” Even as I speak the words, it strikes me as too coincidental. Too unbelievable. Too insane.
Michael shakes his head. “It’s fucking crazy. But I think it’s true. My sister works with Reid. And she said his fiancée was bringing a friend who’d be perfect for me.”
I start to laugh. I can’t help it—this entire night has been so ridiculous and fun. “And Willow said I had to go to this party tonight to meet the little brother of this Laura woman who works with Reid.”
“Christ.” Michael runs a hand through his hair.
“I guess we saved them the trouble,” I wheeze. “Who’d have thought?”
“Right?” Michael laughs too, a deep, joyful sound that warms my insides. “I can’t believe it. My sister was right about something.” He pulls me onto his lap so I straddle his legs.
“They’re all going to flip out,” I tell him. “Willow especially. She’ll try to take credit somehow.”
