Page 41 of Love Expert

“We talked about the concept oflove experts. About dating in general. We discussed what it was like to be a thirty-three-year-old widow and single dad,me, and a thirty-year-old single business owner who has never been married,her. We talked about Aria, which wasn’t as aggravating as I expected it would be, since Brienne and Aria had never met, which made the conversation less exhausting and weird. We talked about all sorts of shit, and then we acknowledged we would not find love tonight, but that we’d found friendship. Then we exchanged phone numbers and promised to say hey sometimes.”

“Y-you didn’t have s?—”

“We didn’t have sex.” His lips curve into a smug, self-satisfied grin. “But it warms my cold, dead heart to see you all worked up about it. I’ve made my offer, Magnolia, so you know where I stand. If you find yourself awake late at night and feeling a little lonely…” He brings his free hand up and strokes the ball of my shoulder. “You’re beautiful, and I’m intolerant of pretense and time wasting. Also, Brienne and I agreed to tell the world we’re head over heels in love if it finally frees me from this ridiculous fucking program. That way, your hundred percent success rate remains intact… on paper, anyway.” His eyes, so green and bright and confident, flicker between mine. “You would’ve kissed me in my room earlier if Jeremy hadn’t interrupted us.”

He licks his lips, slow and seductive and just tempting enough to make me forget my convictions.

“This doesn’t have to be weird,” he rasps. “We’re both curious, especially twenty-five years after being torn apart through no fault of our own. I was a complete gentleman for four whole hours tonight, because I knew your sterling reputation mattered to you.”

He inches closer, his hot breath fanning across my lips.

“I got to touch you that first night you came back to town. Fuck knows, professionally, I wasn’t allowed to like it. But personally…” He wraps his hand around the back of my arm and tugs me closer. “I enjoyed the hell out of it. We’re all alone right now, Magnolia. The house is dark, and I don’t have to be awake for another eight hours…”

My phone bleats with an incoming text and startles me a whole foot off the floor. My breath catches in my lungs, and when it comes out again on a gasp, I swear it’s loud enough to wake the little boy upstairs.

“Magnolia—”

“I’m going home.” My heart thunders out of control, slamming against my diaphragm and burning in my veins. I spin out of his grasp and snatch up my files. I walk a wide circle, all to avoid him grabbing me a second time, then I charge through the doorway and into the living room. I sweep up my phone and spy the texts on the screen; a whole barrage from the group chat I’d rather not check, and the newest one, the one that arrived just a moment ago, from Brienne herself.

He was so sweet! I’m on the road and heading home now, but I’ll check in with you tomorrow to discuss.

Billy follows me into the living room, tugging on his tie and dragging the silky knot open. “Don’t leave.”

“You might not need to be awake for another eight hours, but I have to get up in five.”

“Five?” His face screws with concentration. “Why the hell would you need to be awake at four in the damn morning?”

“Because I have to work. That’s how I pay my bills.” I draw a shuddering breath and hug my files to my chest. I leave the TV right where I paused it, Kevin and Whitney’s happiness finally finding them, then I charge toward the front door and swing it wide before he can stop me.

And by stop me, I mean he might convince me to kiss him back.

I jog down the porch steps, the fabric of my dress flapping around my legs, then I hit the grass and charge full speed toward home.

“Magnolia?”

My eyes burn as I glance back and spy the man standing in his doorway, one arm resting against the frame, a can of orange fizzy in his other hand.

Damn him and his smirk, because he watches me stumble across the boundary garden, and chuckles when my dress catches in the lavender. He allows the silence to hang, heady and impenetrable, until finally, he tips his chin. “Goodbye.”

ROUND SEVENTEEN

BILLY

Maggie:

Devina Appleton. She’s 29 years old, 5 feet, 9 inches tall, has mousy brown hair verging toward a dark, dirty blonde, and green eyes a little like yours. She was married once when she was 19, then divorced at 21.

She’s a preschool educator, lives in Barlespy, and is willing to travel to Plainview for the first date, with the assumption that if you guys hit it off and there’s a second date, you’d make the drive to her.

She technically doesn’t have any children, but her best friend is a single mom to a seven-year-old little girl, and all three of them live together to save on the cost of living.

Devina’s received a similar bio about you to prepare for tonight, which means she knows how old you are, your height, your marriage status, and the fact you have a son. Anything else you want to know, you can ask her at dinner.

I’ll be at your house around 6:30. Wear jeans if you wish, since you’ll be taking her to Picnic Point for… you guessed it… a picnic. As part of my services, I will prepare your food, so you don’t have to worry about it.

I think it’s best that we text like this going forward, since it’s clear our ability to communicate suffers when we’re face-to-face. Text means I can send you the information you need, and you won’t be compelled to piss me off. Once you arrive home, I’ll excuse myself, and we can debrief via text. It’s best this way, I think.

“Hey. Put your phone away, Romeo.” Ramone passes behind my chair, smacking the back of my head with his palm and jogging away again to avoid my wrath.