Breaking the Bachelor (Entangled Lovestruck) (Smart Cupid) (16 page)

“The
Are you too much of a challenge for your man
quiz? No thank you.” Marianne shoved the magazine onto the end table. “You’re perfect just the way you are—a smart, straightforward woman and the caretaker of an enormous, beautiful heart.”

Her eyes burned and she so did not want to cry. “You’re sweet to say I have a big heart because I can be a real pain in the ass.”

“Sometimes,” Marianne said with a small smile. “But I never forget that you gave me a job when no one else would even look at me. After my dad’s conviction, and the prison time, you believed in me.”

Jane shrugged. “Hey, what’s a little white collar crime between friends?”

Marianne offered a lopsided smile in response. “I owe you.”

“No, we owe each other.” Jane raised her ice cream into the air for a toast, “Here’s to friendship…and my broken heart.”

“To friendship…and broken hearts,” she said. “You’ll put yours back together, and next time around, it’ll be even smarter, even more beautiful.”

“Best wing-woman ever.”

Marianne gently pried away the spoon and the ice cream and Jane let her head fall onto her wing-woman’s shoulder.

“Next time.” But she wasn’t sure she’d survive a next time. Her gaze drifted over to the magazine cover.

Be Your Own True Love
. Sounded like a smart move.

…

In a red leather booth near the back of Temptation, Charlie sat across from the third and final date he owed to Smart Cupid. Honestly, he had to give it up to Janey. She was good at her job. This woman was exactly his type. Would have been his type before he
and Jane connected in Paradise, before he thought he had a shot with his overly-logical, hip-swaying Dream Girl.

Kate smiled. Sweet. Blond. A little shy. Yeah, she was pretty and nice, perfectly nice. Charlie was sure there were a lot of nice women out there. Perfectly nice, perfectly sane women. Women who wouldn’t leave him high and dry. With a bottle of whiskey.

Without a decent explanation.

Women who were less bossy. More agreeable, less beholden to a set of criteria, or some stupid Ultimate Man List. More willing to take a chance and bet on love.

Not the kind who bailed with a flamingo-colored cocktail napkin and a claim of too much chemistry. What kind of woman ditched a perfectly terrific relationship because of too much chemistry? The kind of woman who knew how to throw a sucker punch. A bona fide heartbreaker.

“So, you think the Rangers will make the playoffs this year?” Kate asked.

Yeah, she was really nice. Too bad his heart wasn’t in it.

“It’s a little early in the season to tell,” he said, happy enough to talk hockey. “But Nash is healthy and their record’s good.”

Kate took a sip of her white wine, a Pinot Grigio. Generally, he preferred a woman with a beer in her hand, or a rye whiskey Manhattan, but this woman was sweet and blonde and a little shy. She met every criterion on
his
“list”. White wine was fine, and it was good that she seemed to know a little bit about hockey.

“Well, it’s not like in ’94 when the Blueshirts took it all, but I’m not counting them out this year.” She scrunched up her nose in this cute kind of way and swirled the wine in her glass. “Not yet anyway.”

Make that a lot about hockey.

Charlie took a short pull from his beer. He genuinely liked her sports knowledge and her blonde hair and her curves and her green eyes. He liked the way she ordered a burger and fries and actually ate it. Of course, she didn’t pack it away like Jane. She seemingly wasn’t sugar-dependent either since she hadn’t ordered dessert. But she was sweet and nice and available. Maybe he ought to be more open to the idea of dating. Maybe Janey really did know best.

“Kate, do you like hot wings?”

She blinked and said, “Love ‘em.”

“How about Sylvester Stallone?”

A cute “v” formed between her eyebrows. “Well,
Rocky
is great, but the rest of his movies…”

“And you really like hockey?”

Kate looked over her shoulder, and then back, like she was about to be revealed as a victim of
Candid Camera
. “Is this some kind of test? I haven’t been on a date in a long time…”

Charlie shook his head a few times and set his beer firmly on the table. He felt bad. She was a nice woman who deserved a man’s attention. Deserved better than he could ever give her. “No test. No mistake. Just a damned Rangers fan who’s carrying a torch for his matchmaker.”

Kate nodded and smiled with the understanding of a woman who’d had enough trouble with men to last a lifetime. She took another sip of the wine and set her glass on the table. “Want to walk me home? Tell me all about it?”

Charlie smiled back at her, at this perfectly nice woman. “Sure, and hell, I’m sorry about tonight, the date.”

“It’s okay,” she said, collecting her coat with an air of resignation. “Happens more than you’d think. That’s why I signed up with Smart Cupid.”

And there was the truth. Maybe Jane was right. Maybe sometimes love was simply a matter of not getting burned. As much as it pained him to admit it, if he was ever going to regain his equilibrium, he needed to close off his heart from his sexy ex, the one woman on earth who drove him totally crazy. At least, a half-dozen times he’d considered going back, but unless she was willing to take a chance with him, unless she was willing to trust him, his days of seduction were over.

…

Outside of his date’s apartment, a gust of cold night air slammed against Charlie’s chest. Good thing he’d walked Kate home. He’d needed to get away, clear his mind, think straight. Head bent toward the cobblestone, he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and covered the couple of miles between her place and Temptation quickly, walking down Canal, passing a few other bars, other lovers tumbling out onto the sidewalk.

A quick stab of pain shot through his system. He thought he and Jane had finally gotten it right, but after the way she’d fallen apart this morning, there wasn’t much chance of a life together. Better to forget it, for both their sakes. When the bet wrapped up, when it was all over, they’d find a way to be friends again. But damn, he’d wanted so much more. He accelerated his pace, his footsteps hard against the pavement. His fault, not tracking her down and forcing her to see him after the breakup, letting so much time go by. But he’d been reeling six months ago. Hell, he was reeling now. Maybe they could’ve worked it out if he’d only pushed aside his hurt feelings and really gone for it. He’d have laughed about the Rum Runner girl, and reassured her that he was nothing like her father. Too late now.

He dragged in a breath of the night air and hoped it would knock some sense into him.
Just keep walking.
Crossing over Chambers Street, he picked up his pace until he saw the blue neon light of the bar.
Temptation
, it blinked at him like a neon blue warning. Temptation.

Shucking off the cold, he entered the bar. Nick caught his eye as soon as he walked in. He was there, drinking a beer with one of his regulars, but his fierce expression telegraphed his thoughts. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Want a beer?” Nick asked, handing the television remote off to one of the customers.

“No thanks.” He ducked beneath the bar and poured himself a Makers Mark instead. What the hell? Why not? “Come by to collect on a wager?”

Nick watched him, eagle-eyed. “Nope. Don’t feel like a round of Jumpers tonight. I’m more interested in what happened with my sister.”

Charlie was quiet for a long moment as his gaze fixed on the bottom of the glass. “Your sister is a woman with some issues.”

Nick leaned his hip casually against the bar, a lawyer about to start cross-examination. “Really?”

He set his glass down on the bar, not interested in whiskey, not interested in much at all, except hitting closing time. “Do you know why she took off last year?”

Shaking his head, Nick set down his beer. “No, I don’t. She refused to tell me.”

“Of course she did,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “She left because she thought I was flirting with a woman she calls Rum Runner girl.”

“Rum Runner girl?”

He rolled his eyes. “Exactly. How crazy is that?”

There was a pause, and then, “Were you?”

“Was I what?” Charlie’s head whipped around at the accusation in his friend’s voice, a furious look on his face that dared him to ask again. Not that he’d back down. Nick never backed down.

As expected, he repeated the question, but this time, his voice held a note of impatience. “Flirting with Rum Runner girl?”

“Hell, no.” He resented the question, but he forged ahead with an explanation anyway. “Your sister just assumed I was flirting because she cannot get it into her head that a man could care enough about her not to leave her.”

He frowned. “Care about her?”

“And all her shit about chemistry?” He threw his hands in the air. “Who leaves a relationship, a perfectly terrific relationship, because of too much chemistry?” He ran a hand across the invisible band tightening in his chest. “Like I said, your sister has issues.”

Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “What about your issues?”

“Mine?” Part of him knew this mess wasn’t all Jane’s fault, but he’d be damned if he was going to admit it. “My issues?”

“Yeah, your issues,” Nick said, leaning closer, obviously angry. “The way you hide behind your chemistry bullshit. How you keep the best part of yourself separate, closed off even.” Charlie started to defend himself, but Nick kept on talking. “You seem determined to let go of the one relationship you’ve wanted your whole life.”

A couple ensconced in a quiet corner glanced over at them, taking in the heated exchange. Nick lowered his voice. “Jane isn’t the only one with issues, buddy, and I’m done being your sounding board. You had a chance at something real. Not everybody gets that.”

“I did try tonight, Nick, I tried for something real.”

“Not enough.” Nick’s hands balled into fists. “Want to hazard a guess as to why she asked me draw up the dissolution papers for her company?”

Charlie felt stunned, like he’d been Tasered in the nuts.
The hell if he knew.

“I told you she’s not as tough as she looks.” He set his fists down, knuckles against the bar and leaned in close. “I told you to figure it out, dumbass.”

“I did try, damn it!”

“Like I said, not hard enough.” Nick snatched his jacket from a hook at the end of the bar and the paperwork for Smart Cupid hung out of his pockets. With a muffled curse, he shoved it back in. “After I file the paperwork destroying Jane’s company, I’ll write up an agreement, and you can buy me out of the bar.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The conversation was going from bad to apocalyptic, and he had no idea how to avert the disaster.

Nick dragged his coat across his shoulders and turned to go. “You’re my best friend, but she’s my sister. Guess I’m the one who’s out.”

Shell-shocked, Charlie stood there and watched his friend storm out of the bar. What the hell did he mean? His issues? His fuck-up? Now Nick wanted out of the bar? He pressed the bridge of his nose between his fingers and when he looked up the Rangers were down another goal. He filled two pilsners for a pair of guys watching the game and settled back against the bar to get his shit together.

True, he never managed to say, “I love you,” but he’d shown her with his actions. Made love to her like a man who would never get enough of her, who would never leave her. She knew him. He’d told her just this morning that he was willing to gamble on them. He’d wanted a life with Jane, full of passion and family and laughter and all the things they’d missed out on when they were kids.

Everything they’d missed out on.

Charlie stepped back as if he’d been knocked with a two-by-four. He wasn’t the only one who’d grown up on his own. Jane had missed out, too. How could he have not understood? Jane wasn’t anti-passion, not really. She’d simply closed up her heart and created her list of predictable criteria to protect her until the man she loved could love her back.

Until she heard him say the words.

Until he showed her, not for one night, but every day.

Until she knew it in her soul.

Nick was right. He
had
fucked up.

A painful realization kicked at the inside of his stomach. He’d been holding out on Jane for a long time. Never fully committing. Never cluing her in on his foundation, or the bar. He’d held back. Maybe Nick was right. In some small measure, he’d been hiding. Sure, he’d owned up to some of the facts that morning, but he’d come up a bit short. He’d had a chance to make it right with Jane, to let her know in no unspecific terms that he was a hundred percent in love with her. But he’d held back because of his own issues, his own failures. Not Janey’s.

“I fucked up.”

And now, he knew what he needed to do.

Chapter Fifteen

@smartCupid Consider this: For better or worse, when it comes to love, there are no rules.

After a long, restless night, Jane awoke on the loveseat in her living room, face plastered against the pillows, mascara staining the skin under her eyes, her head pounding. Way too much tequila. Her phone peeked out from beneath the blanket, her criteria list tucked safely away inside its tidy digital folder. Rule-abiding. Reliable.

Funny how none of it had kept her heart safe.

No, the shattered pieces of her heart refused to hold one thought, one emotion, one dream without Charlie in it. She felt empty without him, and yet she’d been the reckless one, not Charlie—casting aside a man who rocked her world until she wanted to grab him by the belt loops and tug him into the nearest closet any time he was within tugging distance.

But love was complicated, part logic, part chemistry. Love demanded the free-fall—and maybe one day, she’d be willing to risk the crash. Either way, it was time to pick up the broken pieces and move on. For that, she needed coffee. She tossed aside the covers and trudged down the hall for a dose of caffeine.

And Tylenol. She definitely needed Tylenol.

She detoured into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and emptied a few of the pills into her hand. She took three, downing them with a Dixie cup of water from the tap. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Not good. Definitely not good. In an effort to drag herself back into the land of the living, she splashed some water on her face, wiped away the mascara stains with a washcloth, and brushed her teeth.
Better
, she thought.

Or at least it would be after her first cup of coffee.

She shuffled into the kitchen, jabbed the brew button on the waiting machine, and flipped open her laptop. She pulled up the NY Singles Facebook page, ready to concede and her heart skidded to a stop.

Ready or not, Cupid, all my cards are on the table.

Posted near midnight in true love. #thelovegamble

Before I met you, angel, I was just a screwed up, smart-mouthed kid. Most people probably thought I had everything, private schools and plenty of freedom, an Upper West Side fairy tale. But I was missing the centerpiece. The piece of my heart where my mom had lived.

Then I caught a cab over to Brooklyn and found you. The girl who stitched my broken pieces together. I haven’t spoken the words aloud. Not for a long time. I think I was afraid the sewn together pieces of my heart would come apart.

I know I was a kid, but I felt responsible for her leaving me. Like my love couldn’t keep her safe. But I want to keep you safe, Jane. I promise to guard your heart, even if I can’t always be straitlaced and rule-abiding. Or even capable and cute.

But I love you, Jane.

I always have. I’ve been playing for keeps with you for so long, I can hardly remember a time when I considered my life without you. You found my perfect match—you. So, you won your bet, but I hope you also won me. I’ll be waiting at Temptation to find out.

Marry me.

A surge of emotion threatened to knock her to the floor, and she gripped the edge of the countertop to keep her knees from buckling.

I love you.
The words were there in black and white with all the emotion, all the truth behind them. And a commitment.
Marry me
.

Yes
. There bursting out of her heart was the fact of her answer.
Yes. Hell, yes.

She ran from the kitchen to the hall closet, grabbed her boots and parka, and ran for the elevator. No. Forget the elevator—she was taking the stairs. She double-timed it down the stairs, racing until she hit the early morning air. Stopping at the curb, she flagged down a yellow taxi.

“Corner of Church and Exchange, and please, make it fast.”

The cabbie took in the white cupids on her red flannel pajamas. “Heart on the line?”

“Heart on the line.”

“Then let’s roll, sweetheart.” Flipping the meter, he slammed the car into drive and screeched away from the curb—all in the name of love.

Gotta love New York.

Ten agonizing minutes later, the cab lurched into an empty space in front of Temptation. A crowd was gathered outside the bar, extending from the door out to both corners of the cobblestone sidewalk. Her cabbie let go a loud whistle. “These folks all for you?”

Jane pressed her nose against the window. A camera flash bounced off the glass, then another and another. Nothing like declaring your love on NY Singles and YouTube and… She caught a glimpse of a cameraman from NBC and the words “Progress Updates” and “Love Status” collided in her brain. Holy hell, guess if she was going to gamble on love, she was going to do it on national television. She drew in a calming breath and smoothed the hem of her pajama top.

“Sure looks like it.” Jane slipped two twenties and her business card through the hard plastic divider. “Promise to call me, so I can get you back out on the market after the divorce.”

“Promise,” the cabbie grumbled, but took the card and slid it into the left pocket of his worn cargo jacket. “Give him your best shot, doll.”

“Al, the man’s not going to know what hit him.”

“Lucky guy.”

She blew the cabbie a kiss and stepped out of the taxi onto the sidewalk. The crowd gathered outside the bar was bigger than it looked when she was tucked safely away in the back of the cab, and she ignored her impulse to run. Apparently, Charlie’s post had touched a chord in even the most cynical New Yorkers’ hearts.

“There she is.”

She waved to one of the NBC cameramen who pointed over at
The Today Show
trailer parked on the corner. Looked like Kathie Lee and Hoda figured they’d exploit the situation for a solid spike in the ratings.

“Hey, Cupid, the jammies are a nice touch,” catcalled one of the show’s tech guys. “We’re going live for your answer.”

“Thanks, tech guy over there in the blue shirt.” Jane tucked her curls behind both ears and straightened the line of her parka. Like she’d planned to wear her pajamas and answer a proposal on national television.

As she moved toward the front door, an enormous microphone dropped in front of her. “Are you going to win the Love Gamble?”

A features reporter from
New York Magazine
called out, “Is it true love?”

“Are you going to say yes?”

Without answering, Jane pushed through the bar’s six-paneled doors and walked into Temptation. The lights were dim and the bar was quiet, except for Lake Street Dive’s latest love song rocking out on the jukebox. Just keep breathing. Just keep…

She took a few tentative steps inside, her heart pounding, her boots tapping against the tile. The crowd from the street tumbled in behind her. She looked past the hardwood bar. No Charlie. Any second now, her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She yanked hard on her right ear and tried to stay calm as Kathie Lee and Hoda worked their way through the crowd, the tech guys hot on their heels, their cameras catching her reaction for morning show posterity.

A hush fell over the gathered crowd as every person in the bar and in the doorway and on the sidewalk stood breathless and waiting. Jane couldn’t speak for anyone else in the bar, but she was scared shitless.

“Where the hell is he?” a familiar voice called out. It was Adam, elbowing his way through the mass of people, his arms full of flowers and boxes of conversation hearts. She glanced over at him with small, diamond like tears in her eyes. Exactly. Where the hell was he?

Jane felt a kick of real pain that nearly drove her to the floor.

Damn.

Now was not the time to be too late.

…

Charlie closed the door of the wine cellar with his shoulder and headed back upstairs to the bar. He’d inventoried the whole damn place already, trying to keep busy, waiting for her answer.
God, let the answer be “yes”.
Walking away from Jane yesterday had torn part of his heart away, but unless she was willing to take a chance with him, unless she was willing to trust him, his days of waiting were over.

He’d always love her even if the answer was “no”. Hell, he’d love her even if she didn’t show.
Please let her show.
At the top of the narrow stairs, he turned into the bar. And there she was, standing by the jukebox, surrounded by a mass of people and cameras, looking fierce, like some kind of mini-hustler about to double-down.

That was his Janey.

A mini-hustler in flannel pajamas.

Cameras flashed across the bar, and against the glass of the front window as the crowd edged closer, but his gaze locked onto her like a homing beacon. On the circles under her eyes, the wild curls, the haphazard parka.

The flannel.

The corner of his mouth tilted into a half-smile. The outfit wasn’t like the sexy T-shirt and killer jeans she’d been sporting when she’d knocked on his door, eager to con him into saving her ass, and even less like the scraps of pin
k lace underneath. But he liked this version best of all.

“Guess you saw the post.”

She smiled back at him, a total, beautiful, imperfect mess. “Bet your ass I saw the post.”

A microphone was thrust in front of him. “Tell us, Charlie,” Kathie Lee said. “Is the city’s sexiest, most confirmed bartender about to be taken off the market?”

Eyes still locked on Jane. “I sure as hell hope so.”

Hoda pressed forward. “Because if Cupid found your perfect match—”

He leaned into the mike. “Cupid
is
my perfect match.”

A chant rose up from the crowd. “Cupid, Cupid, Cupid.” Charlie heard it all, but his gaze remained on Janey.

“I love you, Charlie. I love that you make the best Manhattan in the city, and that you give me two cherries every time. I love that you take me to Brooklyn for pizza and bowling. I love the early morning coffee and the bagels and the laundry—”

She was walking toward him now, her hands shaking, battling back tears. But her gaze never left his face. “Reliable, loyal, capable, yes, but so much more than a list of criteria. You’re my everyday love, Charlie, even if you are an unpredictable rule-breaker, you’re everything I want. Everything I’ve
ever
wanted.”

She reached out and took his hands into hers. “I’ve always loved you, even when I didn’t know it, even when I couldn’t admit it. Gambling on love—it’s a risk I don’t know how to take, a bet my father never showed me how to win, but if you’re willing to take the chance with me…” A tear fell down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb.

“I’ll bet on you, angel. I’ll always bet on you.”

Charlie gathered her close and kissed her with all the passion in his heart and soul, knowing that love defied all logic. He had a lifetime to prove it to her.

A round of cheers and whistles erupted inside the bar, exploding all around them as cameras flashed and clicked from all directions. The NBC crew converged upon them and Kathie Lee’s morning show voice reverberated through the microphone, “That’s how we say I love you in this town, America!”

Charlie broke the kiss slowly, pulled back, and looked into the face of the woman he loved. “I think we won.”

“Not just the bet.” Her amber eyes held his gaze, a naughty glint shimmering in their amber depths. “Maybe we should make a little side wager.”

He loved that look. A man could get seriously used to that look.

“A side wager?” he asked, tugging her close enough to whisper, “You want to cruise into the back for a game of pool? Maybe a round of nine-ball?”

“I was thinking something more intimate.”

Damn, the woman sure had a way with words. “I love it already.”

She grabbed him by the shirt collar. “I bet I can snag a cab back to my place faster than you can.”

He looked down at her, smiling. “And if I flag a cab down first? What do I win?”

“If you win…” Her fingers touched the top button of her sexy flannel top and his body responded immediately to the possible stakes of their side wager. “I’ll show you everything that’s underneath these cupid-covered pajamas.”

“Everything?”

She cocked a dark eyebrow. “Everything.”

Oh, yeah, no doubt about it, she was going down. He shifted his weight a little closer. “Game on, Cupid.”

She raised her chin, ready to go. “Game on, buddy.”

A deep chuckle rumbled up from his chest before he raised a fist in the air. “Champagne’s on the house.” More cheers erupted throughout the bar and he tossed Adam the keys to Temptation. “Lock up for me.”

Adam caught the keys in one hand and grabbed a bottle of Moet from behind the bar. With a quick nod to Jane, he raised the bottle over his head and popped the cork into the crowd. “Hey, everybody, I matched Cupid!”

Half-sputtering, half-blushing in response to his arrogant declaration, Jane made a move to challenge her rival, but Charlie hauled her back against him.

“Give the guy his moment,” he said, chuckling as he tightened his arms around her, “There’s room in this town for both of you.”

A grudging smile touched her lips as he kissed her. “I already won. I won you.”

And then, with all the odds finally in their favor, Charlie grabbed Jane’s hand, and together, they zigzagged through the cheering crowd, cameras flashing, microphones edging closer, the jukebox crying out
My Heart’s in the Right Place
, until they burst through the door into the cold, early morning air, laughing, tripping, falling…crashing toward love.

Game on.