Page 8 of Matched By Mistake
Preston: Sis, you good?
Mom: Call me. Since when do you online date?
Dad: Family meeting tomorrow 9 a.m.
She shook her head. Then took a minute to write her response.
Maggie: Yeah, I’m good, Pres. It was about time I tried dating again. I will look at my schedule and let you know if I can make the 9 a.m.
Her phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID before answering.
“Preston.”
“I like your ballsy response but Dad is going to lose it.”
“I know, I was being bratty. I’ll text that I can make it in a few minutes. I just can’t deal with him being autocratic sometimes.”
“I get it. So Jericho Winters...”
“Yeah. It’s Misha’s app, so I couldn’t bail,” she said, realizing she didn’t feel like letting her brother know how she really felt about Jericho and admitting to herself for the first time that she was excited to see him again.
“I doubt Dad will see it that way.”
“You’re right,” she said. “But I’ll make him see it.”
“Good luck with that. See you tomorrow morning,” he said.
“You, too. Bye.”
She texted back that she could make the meeting and her mom sent a thumbs-up and then a smiling face and then the kissing face.
She didn’t delude herself that the family meeting was going to be easy and neither was this “date” tonight with Jericho.
Three
Jericho showed up at Maggie’s place just a little before eight. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of gerbera daisies that he’d been unable to resist picking up. He’d said he was a gentleman, and gentlemen brought flowers.
He wanted the gesture to be sincere but he wasn’t sure. What was he playing at? Her honesty, combined with her physical hesitancy, had thrown him. Part of him said to make this an act. To play that they were dating to help his brother and her friend, but another part... That gut-deep, lust-driven part of him wasn’t having it.
She opened the door to the sound of Santana’s guitar blaring in the background. She had pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail, changed into a pair of wide-legged shorts that ended at the top of her thigh and made her legs seem endless and wore a slim-fitting halter top that enhanced the curves of her breasts and her nipped-in waist. He swallowed and then smiled as if she hadn’t blown every thought from his head. As if he wasn’t standing on her doorstep with wine when what he wanted was to open his arms and take her into them. Kissing her so long, so hard and so deeply that he wouldn’t lift his head until they were both naked.
“Evening,” he said.
“Hey. You’re on time, something I can appreciate. Fair warning, I tend to always run late,” she said, with a wink. “Are those for me?”
“They are.” He handed her the bouquet and the bottle of wine.
“Thanks. Come in and grab a seat in the kitchen at the bar,” she said, then called out to her in-home assistant to lower the volume. “Sorry about that. But I love ‘Supernatural’ and it can only be played at full volume.”
“Don’t be sorry, I agree with that. So what’s for dinner?”
“Taco salad. In this heat I can’t be bothered to cook,” she said.
“Agree. I’d be grilling if I was home.”
“Do you do that often?”
“Well, since I like to eat and keep late hours, yes. Sometimes I stop at the TCC but then I’m distracted,” he said as he took a seat at one of the wrought-iron-backed tall stools at her breakfast bar.
