AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Oh, there was a story here. He wassureof it.
He could smell it on her—the way she avoided eye contact, the blush, fiddling with her purse...
“You’re acting like you went to a goddamn matchmaker or something,” he said with a laugh. But when her face turned from flushed to crimson, Keaton gasped. “You’re kidding me. Asher fucking Benson going to a matchmaker? Oh, that is gold!”
“Stop it,” she hissed, taking a step forward and jabbing him in the chest. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? If you do, I willneverforgive you. I’m not ashamed, but it’s confidential.”
He wasn’t sure he bought her reasoning. It was unlikely she’d signed an NDA, unless the matchmaking company had somemajorlyfamous clients on their list. Frankly, modern dating boggled his mind. What happened to meeting people the old-fashioned way?
Or in your case, not at all.
Hmm. He didn’t have a leg to stand on as far as that argument was concerned. Maybe the dating scene had changed in the last ten years even more than he realized. Still, single men should be climbing over themselves to date someone like August. She had the kind of smile that could patch up the holes in a person.
Not you. Even she’s not strong enough to fix you.
“Keaton, please.” She grabbed his arm. “Don’t...don’t ruin this for me. I’m having a good time.”
The words struck him hard in the chest, as did the desperate, pleading look in her eyes. What the heck was she doing shopping for a boyfriend at a matchmaker?
None. Of. Your. Business.
“Just be careful, okay?” He frowned. “Asher is...”
She sighed, shaking her head and looking away momentarily as if disappointed in him. “What? What is he?”
“He’s very good at playing the affableaww shucksguy when he thinks it will get him what he wants, that’s all. Don’t fall for it. He’s a liar and cheat.”
“You know what, I don’t want to hear it.” She held up a hand.
“I’m not saying this to give you a hard time or ruin your night. I mean it.” He sighed. “Just...don’t take everything he says at face value.”
“Stop, Keaton.”
He touched August’s shoulder briefly, wanting to say so much more—wanting to drag her out of the restaurant and away from a guy he knew was beneath her—but he held himself in check. She was a grown-ass woman and she could make her own decisions, and she deserved to have him listen when she told him to knock it off.
He just had to hope that Asher showed his true colors sooner rather than later, so August didn’t get too invested.
“Get home safe. If you need a ride, call me and I’ll send a driver over.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek, sucking in the sweet vanilla-caramel perfume and cursing himself for the personal torture it would provide well into the night.
But he did the right thing and left her standing there, befuddled.
Whatever urges he felt for August—whether brotherly or not—he had to squash them. Because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if that adoring look came back into her eyes, like she’d had all those years ago. Something told him, he’d be powerless to resist.
And that would be a huge mistake for them both. Whatever August hoped to achieve with seeing a matchmaker, it was something he could never provide her.
5
Two weeks later...
Keaton jogged up to his sister’s front door, a bag of groceries over one arm and a tray of lasagna from the Italian deli she liked in his hand. It was mid–Saturday afternoon and the sun was shining, making puddles from the earlier showers glisten like mirrors on the sidewalk. He’d spent the morning in the office and had planned to be there all day, until Leah rang.
The exhaustion in her voice had hit him like a freight train—she was mid-flare-up. The medication she’d switched to a few years ago had been working wonders for her, and the flare-ups were less frequent, but it didn’t stave them off altogether, unfortunately.
Leah was a tough cookie. All she’d asked for was moral support because her mood was low, as it often tended to be in those instances—but Keaton had promised her the day she got diagnosed that whenever she needed him, he would be there. Didn’t matter if he had to walk out of a client presentation or drop the ball on his work in some other way. Didn’t matter who he had to blow off or piss off or push to the side.
Family was number one—no ifs, buts or maybes.
So he’d hoofed it across the bridge to Brooklyn, headed to the grocery store near her house to grab some essentials, and then he’d picked up something to heat up for dinner. Keaton was talented in a great many things, but cooking was not one of them. Not even close. And Leah was feeling crappy enough as it was, without having to suffer through his terrible cooking.
