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Toni appeared as startled as he felt.

To her credit, Alessandra did look slightly embarrassed.

Minx.

“Look who’s here!” she announced in false surprise. He’d have to tease her later about her lack of acting ability.

Dressed in cutoff jean shorts, a gray and white T-shirt with a picture of a sunset, and a deep red shawl that hung past her waist, she looked halfway between cute and smoking hot.

As usual.

“Hi,” Toni said, adjusting her crossbody bag. Thank God they weren’t living in fourteenth-century France. She was, at least, covered. For the most part. Otherwise, he would have embarrassed himself for certain.

“Hi, Toni,” he answered back, realizing he’d been caught staring.

Kenton cleared his throat. “Well played, love,” he said to Alessandra. “I suppose this is where I remind you of the very important thing we need to do, immediately.”

A chuckle ripped out of Lawrence. Leave it to Kenton to be so brutally honest.

Kenton smiled, apparently pleased with himself. “Do continue your conversation without us,” he added, making a show of holding his arm out for his fiancée. Alessandra took it with an apologetic smile and the two made a hasty retreat.

“I suppose you didn’t know I was coming,” Toni asked, pulling her bag over her head and placing it on the small wrought iron table.

“No, I did not.”

Toni joined him against the railing. She stood close enough for him to smell a hint of amber.

“But I’m glad you’re here,” he said honestly.

Her smile revealed little. “I could tell something was up,” she said. “I just couldn’t imagine what she was about.” She played with the hem of her shawl for a moment before glancing back up at him. “Did you know she was hoping to hook us up when you first showed up in town?”

“I did. She admitted it to me once. Though she never explained why. A woman with a boyfriend didn’t seem like a good candidate for a matchmaker.”

Some emotion flashed through her eyes, but she looked away before he could interpret it.

“Tell me why she thought we’d suit.”

“I have no idea what—”

“Spill it, Toni.”

Lawrence didn’t know what endeared him to her more, the way she scrunched up her nose, her expression playful, or the way she caught herself whenever she did it.

“I may have . . . made a comment.”

“Yes?” He gestured for her to elaborate, and she did the nose-scrunching thing again.

“And that’s it. So anyway—”

“Oh no you don’t.”

“I can’t remember exactly. It was a long time ago.”

“Two months?”

“I have a bad memory.”

“I have a bad habit of being tenacious.”