Breaking the Bachelor (Entangled Lovestruck) (Smart Cupid) (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

@smartCupid Social media is part of the contemporary dating scene. Embrace it.

@KathieLeeandHoda Is it a match? You decide. Check out the latest on YouTube. #bachelorsightings

YouTube Heat…or Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places

The Love Gamble’s sexy barkeep made a hot-and-heavy kiss-stop in Chelsea late last night. But who is the mystery woman? Check out the YouTube link below if you’re up for a vicarious thrill, but lovers beware, the chemistry here is not G-Rated.

Jane fell back against the cushions of her loveseat, pressed the phone against her pajama-covered chest and tried to pretend her world wasn’t crashing down on her like an avalanche.

Oh my God. YouTube.

Shit.

She and Charlie…kissing outside her building…on YouTube.

She tilted the screen and viewed the video one more time. Thank God her Chelsea brownstone was standard issue. And it was dark. And she’d dragged him in quick. At least, she had a shot at retaining her anonymity, if not her dignity.

Shit, shit, shit.

Her face flamed fire truck red and she tried to breathe, despite the fact that every molecule of oxygen had already rushed from her lungs. She scrolled down to the comment section. More than thirty-two hundred shares.

This is exactly what chemistry got a woman. Ever since her father had taken off, she’d maintained her emotional distance and control. There were too many real issues to worry about. Issues like her mother’s late nights and bad choices. Issues like working hard to get the hell out of Brooklyn. Well, her inner wild child had busted out last night and what had she gotten for it? Trouble. Serious, freaking trouble.

Time to put that inner child in lockdown. If the news came out that Cupid was caught kissing the Love Gamble bachelor, it would compromise her entire reputation.

Of course, none of that would matter if she lost the bet. And Jane was finally worried that she might. Since their post-chemistry explosion, Charlie had been MIA. No Cupid Report. No call. No text. No nothing. He’d bailed. Exactly the way she knew he would.

She was considering breaking out the emergency chocolate when a text from Adam Walters popped onto the screen.
Looks like you’re about to get lucky.

If he was talking about the video…no, the image was too grainy, too dark. Her shaking fingers punched in a quick response.
Lucky?

A text message pinged back almost immediately.
Don’t be coy. I’ve know you’ve seen the video—who hasn’t?
There was a short pause.
Your bachelor looks to be enjoying his date.

Her fingers flew across the keys.
Logic-based matchmaking does it every time.

Three seconds later, a response appeared on the screen.
Looks more like chemistry to me. Sweet dreams, Cupid.

Sweet dreams, my ass.
If he’d seen the video already, it’d probably hit the Best of YouTube by morning. She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

A few clicks later, she was pressing the speed-dial for her brother. As always, he picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Janey.”

She tugged hard on her ear, kept her tone casual. “Hey, any chance you’ve talked to Charlie today? Maybe recently. Like in the last hour or so.”

There was a short pause before he said, “If you want to know if he’s still on his date, you need to call him. Not me.”

She wrinkled her nose at the phone. How did he always know what she was thinking? “Calling him would be totally unprofessional. But maybe you saw him tonight? On the date?”

A sigh filtered down through the line. “If it makes you happier, yes, I saw him and his date at that Italian place in Tribeca. Left about an hour ago. Quite a coincidence, both of us being there at the same time.”

Heat burned across her cheeks and down her neck. Busted. Not that she’d admit it.

Nick paused for a moment, probably waiting for a confession. “Anyway, thanks for the restaurant suggestion. But for the record, I’m not your narc.”

“Just tell me…did he look happy?”

Her brother’s voice held a shrug. “He’s Charlie. He always looks happy.”

She reached over for the movie-sized box of Red Hots she bought on the way home. “Cheerful happy or Hallelujah-I-want-to-take-you-home-to-my bed happy?”

“Jane.” Now his voice filled with empathy. She preferred the shrug. “If you’re worried about who Charlie’s taking home at night, maybe you shouldn’t be setting him up on all these dates.”

The box was empty. Damn. “I’m not worried. I’m just…protecting my investment. After tonight, we’ve only got one more shot at true love.”

“I heard.”

“He told you?” Probably needed to cut back on the sugar.

“Jane, you dragged the guy into a
Today Show
bet. His dating life isn’t exactly a secret.”

“He’s the city’s sexiest bartender. When was his dating life ever a secret?”

Nick sighed. “Just consider taking it easy on the guy, okay? He plays his cards pretty close to the vest sometimes, but his mom’s car wreck screwed him up. Give him a break, ’kay? Odds are somewhere in his seven-year-old brain, he’s convinced love’s the kiss of death.”

She hated when her brother hit the mark. “Maybe.”

“Definitely. But listen, if you tell him we discussed any of this shit, I’ll deny it.”

“You’re such an attorney.”

“Plausible deniability, Baby Jane. Plausible deniability.” His voice lowered to a near-whisper. “Listen, sis, sorry to debrief and run, but my date is on her way back to the table.”

“I assume this is a first date?” No need to ask, first dates were her brother’s specialty.

“They’re the best kind.” She could practically see the smile on his face.

“One of these days, you’re going to fall hard.”

“Not before you.”

“Wanna bet?”

“And start my love life trending on Twitter? No thanks.” A hint of humor entered his voice as he said, “But if you really want to check out the status of Charlie’s dates, I hear there’s a YouTube video out there that’s a real scorcher. Jake certainly got a kick out of it.”

She bent back the corner of a pink file folder lying in her lap. Great, even Jake was tuned into her nightmare and he lived like a recluse on that damn island. “I gotta go, Nick.”

“I bet,” he said, with a chuckle. “Love you.”

Ending the call on his teasing laughter, she turned her attention to the files and tossed aside the first one, a background check.
So, Charlie went on his date.
The second was an interview.
Even took her to the place in Tribeca.
Another background check hit the pile. She unwrapped a Hershey’s kiss from the small stash on the coffee table. Better to think about chocolate than Charlie. Now Charlie and some chocolate. Charlie and some caramel sauce. Whipped cream, ice cream, and a handful of nuts. She dropped the folders and slumped further into the loveseat.

What the hell was wrong with her?

A knock startled her and she glanced over her shoulder at the door. Damn, she really needed to find a way to afford a building with a doorman. Rising from the couch, she walked to the hall closet, grabbed her baseball bat, and continued down the hall. On her tiptoes, she looked through the peephole and her heart performed a salsa dance at seeing the convex version of Charlie standing in the hallway. Even slightly bowed, the man managed to look good. Dressed in his usual faded jeans and leather jacket, he looked better than ever. Setting the bat down in the corner, she loosened the security chain and opened the door.

“You’re back.”

“Against my better judgment.” He glanced over at the elevator as if considering a last minute escape. “About last night…”

“About last night…”

Their eyes locked together as the words tumbled on top of one another. She looked away, her toes tapping out a rhythm against the hardwood floor. He rocked back on his heels and buried his hands deep into the pockets.

“You were right about the proving a point deal. Part of it anyway. Shit move on my part.”

“Apology accepted.”

A short smile revealed the crinkles at the edges of his eyes. Damn, she loved those crinkles. “Good.”

She glanced down at her toes and tried not to free-fall. “I thought you had a date.”

“I did. But it’s over, and….”

“Not a match?” she asked, hating the sound of relief in her voice.

“No, not a match,” he said, in a voice so quiet she felt her heart might break.

She looked up at him and he reached out to circle one of the buttons on her pajama top with his index finger.

“You look cute in your pajamas,” he said, “but get dressed. I’ve got a taxi waiting.”

“A taxi?”

Beneath the flannel, her heart beat wildly, banging against her chest, blocking out all sound, all reason, all thought except the thought that Charlie Goodman looked so good, so perfectly right, standing across from her, all six-feet sexy something of him, waiting outside her apartment.

“We’ve only got one date left, so I wanted to stop talking and show you what I want. I’m ready to move on.” He looked her square in the eye. “And find love.”

“Tonight wasn’t love?”

“Tonight was a disaster.” He leaned against the doorjamb and ran a hand across his clean-shaven jaw. “Did you know she is a Sagittarius? Normally, I love a Sagittarius, so offbeat.”

“Wait a second.” Jane shook her head to clear the image of Charlie and some offbeat blonde Sagittarius. When had he developed an interest in astrology? “You like offbeat?”

She waved him inside and as he walked past her into the living room, she was treated to a view of the way his worn denim hugged his backside. She pressed the door shut behind her, remembering how he’d looked half-naked, pressing her against the wall with his body. Needing air, she tugged the pajama top away from her skin.

“Love offbeat,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But tonight’s offbeat spent too much time calculating charts.”

Jane wrinkled her nose. Offbeat didn’t exactly jive with her image of an uptown girl. “Charts? As in spreadsheets?”

“As in voodoo.” He moved over to the bay window and gestured up at the night sky. “A few too many astrological requirements.”

“Oh.” Not at all what she’d imagined.

“Yeah, a couple of Red Bull and movie issues, too, but we can talk about that later.” He flashed a quick grin and jerked his head toward her bedroom. “Get dressed. Meter’s running.”

She looked at him, really looked at him, standing there in her home, comfortable and easy, and a series of small explosions rocketed around inside her. Sure, his rough-and-tumble, just-climbed-out-of-bed quality sent her pulse soaring, but tonight, there was something else building inside her. Something sweeter…and gentler…and so very dangerous—

“Expecting someone?”

Jane blinked her way back from her pre-bedtime fantasy. “Sorry?”

Charlie nodded toward the knock at the door. “Somebody straitlaced and reliable?”

With a shake of her head, she said, “No, I’m not expecting anyone.”

There was another knock, but she didn’t move.

“You gonna get that?” he asked. “Or am I?”

“No. Yes,” she said, flustered. “The door. I’m going to answer the door.”

She turned away with a half-smile, relieved not to have given into the dangerous and sweet feelings swirling inside her. Safeguarding her emotions was still an important priority.

“Jane, are you in there? It’s Marianne.”

“Oh my God, it’s Marianne.” Halfway to the door, she froze on the spot, before turning on her heel to look back at him. “Shit, it’s Marianne.”

“I heard you the first time,” Charlie said.

“She mentioned an adjustment to the app, but I didn’t think she’d come over tonight.” On autopilot, she walked over, grabbed his forearm and dragged him toward the hall closet. “You’ve got to hide.”

“Are you crazy?”

She threw open the closet door. “Go on, get in the closet.”

“You are crazy.” Charlie easily removed her hand from his elbow. “I’m not hiding and I am definitely not getting into your closet.”

“Fine, no closet, then. The bedroom.” Keeping her voice quiet, she strode toward her room gesturing for him to follow. “She cannot see you here. With me. In my pajamas.”

“Flannel pajamas, what’s the big deal?”

“Listen, I promised her—forget it.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jammies. “You and I are supposed to be in a strictly professional relationship, and pajamas, flannel or not, do not fall into the strictly professional relationship category.”

“I get what you’re saying, but I am not hiding in the closet.”

Panic formed at her edges, causing her to push the issue. “One time. Just this one time. I don’t want Marianne to imagine you’re here for some non-professional reason…”

“Like sex?”

“No, not like sex,” she said and lowered her voice to a near-whisper, “I just don’t want her to worry that I’m…you know, jeopardizing the bet and her career and the company.” Her hands waved him down the hall. “Just get in the damned closet.”

“What part of not hiding do you not understand?” A few long strides in the opposite direction, and Charlie was back in the living room.

“Jane, are you okay?” Marianne’s voice worked its way into the apartment.

“Do you want me to get that?” Charlie asked.

Jane stood her ground for a moment, but it was a little late to stand off against Charlie. Smarter to take the high road and answer the door. “Be right there.”

She walked down the hall. So what if Charlie was here now? They were about to have a business meeting, that’s all, a simple post-date analysis. Of course, the last post-date session had led straight to her kissing Charlie and enjoying the view of his half-naked body, a fact Marianne already knew, a situation Jane had promised to change. Shit. Her face burned. Where was her inner strength? Her integrity? Her willpower?