Page 29 of Stupid Matchmaking Love

A knot the size of my fist jams up my throat as I stare at Rhett Maddox. He casually steps forward and his shadow falls over me. I take him all in—his shoulders, the sophisticated cut of his suit, his dark eyes, the whisper of stubble on his face.

My heart beats frantically, and I can’t think about anything except how my white spa uniform is wrinkled compared to his ironed suit.

He leans down and whispers, “So what do you think?”

I blink. “About what?”

“I’ll enter if you do. Unless you’re chicken, of course.”

“I’m not.”

“You sure about that? I don’t see you reaching for a pen.”

To prove him wrong, I march over to the quilt, grab two pens and two fabric strips, and then return to where Rhett stands, quietly watching me.

I shove a pen and cloth toward him. “Here.”

He looks down and his cheek flexes as if he’s just realized I called his bluff.

“Take them.”

When he does, his fingers graze my palm deliberately, and I feel that same electricity from the massage table—hot, wrong, unforgettable.

With his inky gaze locked on me, Rhett writes his name.

Well, two can play that game. I write my own name with a flourish, not glancing once at the fabric. My handwriting may or may not be legible.

Then I storm over to the quilt. Rhett comes up beside me.

Clarice, Betty, and Thelma watch, eyes wide, mouths open in O’s.

“Ready?” I ask smartly.

“Yes, ma’am. Whenever you are.”

I do a double take, trying to gauge if he’s serious or not. “Once we do this, there’s no going back.”

“You don’t say.”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic.”

He chuckles. “All I mean is, I know. Do you?”

“Of course I know that.”

“Then why haven’t you pinned your name?”

“Because . . . I want to make sure you won’t back out.”

“Is that right? I’m the one who’s going to back down this time?”

“That’s right.”

He steps closer instead of responding, and I catch his scent again. “You okay?” he asks quietly. “Looks like you’re thinking too hard.”

His full scent assaults me. Soap. Leather. Trouble. My brain short-circuits at the combo.

“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”