by Fiona Riley
“Courtney?” It took Sasha a moment to recognize the look on Abby’s face was jealousy. Shit. “No. Well, I know her name. I got here a little early and waited inside for you. That’s all. Sorry, I’m sure that probably seemed a little strange.”
Abby didn’t say anything at first, so Sasha reached for her hand, eager to soothe her concerns. Abby looked down at their hands before looking back up at Sasha.
“Let’s try this again.” Sasha pulled Abby closer by their clasped hands, leaning in to kiss Abby on the cheek. She stayed close and spoke softly so that only Abby could hear. “I’m happy to be here with you. You look great. Thank you for bidding on me—I’ve really been looking forward to this.” Abby squeezed her hand and she pulled back to see a small smile on Abby’s face. Jackpot.
“Here you go, ladies.” Courtney pulled out both of their chairs. Their table was along the edge of the patio space, a little removed from the others. Courtney had finished setting the table, and the linens were perfectly placed and menus awaited them. She filled their water glasses. “I’ll be right back to take your order.” Courtney disappeared and Sasha could not have been happier.
Sasha waited for Abby to sit before helping her adjust her chair. She settled in across from her and let herself appreciate Abby’s outfit. She was dressed in a silk blouse and a short, flattering skirt with what Sasha would call a significant heel. It had occurred to her when she kissed Abby on the cheek that they were nearly the same height. At five foot eight, Sasha was used to being one of the tallest women in the room. She wondered how tall Abby was without her shoes on.
“Sorry.” Abby cleared her throat and sipped her glass of water. “I don’t know, I guess I thought you—”
“Were shacking up with the waitress?” Sasha didn’t think being coy was her best choice here. She decided to go with her gut and her gut was telling her that Abby thought something more was going on.
Abby looked embarrassed. “Will you hate me if I say yes?”
“No.” Sasha considered all the times in her life that she’d let her eye wander while on a date with another woman. This was probably some cosmic payback for her past bad behavior.
Abby cocked her head. “Why do I get the impression that this kind of thing happens a lot?”
“Me being accused of flirting with other women? Or being considered guilty before I’m given the benefit of the doubt?” Once the words left her mouth, she realized that was a little harsh.
Abby raised an eyebrow. “I suppose both.”
“It happens more than I’d like. If that’s what you’re asking.” Sasha shrugged.
“Why do you think that is?” Abby leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable.
“I suppose it’s because I’m friendly. I’m not afraid to strike up a conversation with anyone, female or otherwise. I’d say there have been more than a few instances in my past when I’ve been labeled a—”
“Womanizer?” Abby’s gaze was focused on her face. She appeared to be watching Sasha’s reaction.
Sasha was careful to mask her resentment of the word. Yes. She had been accused of that many, many times. And not wrongly so. But that was something she had sought to change. She wanted more than one-night stands and intense make-out sessions with strangers whose names she never made the attempt to learn. Samantha had told her that the change had to start with her. Today seemed like as good a time as any. “Yes.”
Abby blinked. Sasha’s honesty seemed to catch her off guard.
“Look.” Sasha crossed her legs, her tight dress riding up as she leaned forward. “I’m not perfect. I’ve had my fair share of dates and hookups, and I’m not ashamed of that. But I’m also not into the whole judge-a-book-by-its-cover bullshit either. There’s more to me than amazing cheekbones and legs for days. I promise you. And if you’re willing to give me a chance, I’m sure you’ll find out that I’m right. Because let’s be honest, you paid for me to be here and I couldn’t be more grateful. And honored. And pretty turned on that you took on that handsy lawyer chick for me. So I’m okay with you being a little suspicious as long as you give me a chance to prove you wrong. Okay?”
“Amazing cheekbones and legs for days, huh?”
“That’s what you got out of all that?”
“Oh yeah. I have a pretty good narcissism radar.” Abby’s expression was playful.
She was teasing her. Sasha relaxed a little and decided to test the waters. “I mean, it’s kinda true.”
Abby’s eyes followed Sasha’s hand as she motioned to the large amount of leg exposed while she was sitting forward in her seat. “I’ll give you that.”
“Good.” Sasha reached out and took Abby’s hand again. “So we’re agreed? Because I want to talk more about my amazing cheekbones.”
Abby laughed and Sasha squeezed her hand briefly before releasing it. Courtney dropped off one of the votives Sasha had lit before and let them know Micah would be right up.
“So, who’s this Micah character?” Sasha didn’t bother looking at the menu. Abby was appetizing enough. She was reading the menu in front of her and twirling a strand of her blond hair around her finger. It was adorable.
“He’s a bean guru I met a while ago. His café is notorious for having amazing aromas and unique blends. He mentioned a few months ago that he was thinking of converting his Cambridge location into a restaurant in the evenings but wanted to test it out a little before the grand opening.” Abby looked up and caught Sasha watching her. She stopped twirling and looked a little shy. More adorable.
Abby cleared her throat. “Anyway. I figured this was a good place for us to get to know each other and help Micah finalize a menu. Are you a good eater?”
“The best.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on Sasha, and she wondered if it was intentional.
“Excellent.” Abby winked. Definitely intentional. This date was going to be awesome.
Chapter Eleven
Abby’s sides hurt from laughing. They had made it through dinner and were on to dessert, and she was pleasantly surprised to find out that Sasha was as funny as she was attractive. Sasha was in the middle of regaling her with a story about a false alarm at the firehouse, and she was convinced if she didn’t stop laughing this very moment, she might hyperventilate. The thought would have alarmed her more if she didn’t think Sasha would give her mouth-to-mouth afterward.
“So, here’s the thing, right? We’re firefighters. We literally do this for a living. But some asshole pulls the fire alarm at the station as a prank and every fireman and his mother are falling out of their bunker gear to get out of the building. I’ve never seen so many grown men shriek and run outside in their boxers and boots before in my life.” Sasha was shaking her head as she recalled the incident from last month. “I swear to you, it was like Candid Camera was stationed outside. The best part though? It wasn’t even a prank. The probie tried to microwave a cookie to make it warm and gooey for a midnight snack and it burst into flames in the microwave. That Burger kid is a complete moron.”
Abby was wiping tears from her eyes and trying desperately not to smudge her mascara even though she bet it was a lost cause. “Wait, back up. You need to use layman’s terms. What is a bunker gear? And why is a burger being probed?”
Sasha nearly spit out her sip of water. “Bunker gear is what we call our firefighting gear. It’s the jacket and pants with suspenders and the boots we wear to a call.”
“Yeah, see, I would just have called that your fire uniform.”
“That works. I would have gotten the picture.” Sasha smiled across at her and she had to remind herself to make conversation.
“And the person being probed?”
“Burger?” Sasha looked confused.
“Why are we talking about food again? You lost me.” She could talk or not talk about food all day with Sasha. It was decided.
“Burger is the last name of the probie. In the firehouse, we often go by last name.”
“Probie?”
�
�He’s a probationary firefighter. He must pass the probationary stage before he can be considered for a permanent firefighter position. To see if he’s got what it takes to be the real deal. It’s kind of a nice way of calling him low man on the totem pole.”
“Okay, I’m following.”
“Good.” Sasha leaned forward. “But I’m more than happy to give you a full tutorial, if you’d like.”
Abby considered what that might mean and decided she hoped it meant hands-on training. “So, you love your job, right?”
“I do,” Sasha replied.
“Why do you do catering on the side?” That was something that had been bothering Abby since the auction when she realized Sasha was a firefighter. Why the weekend waiter gig?
“Truthfully? It’s for the money.” Sasha frowned and Abby regretted asking. She hated talking about money. “My shifts are twenty-four hours at a time. I’ll occasionally do a forty-eight-hour gig for overtime or to cover for someone, but it’s usually a twenty-four-hour block. It works out that we tend to have quite a few days off between shifts to ensure we’re well rested. Most of us have a secondary job. My parents really need the help making ends meet, so I do what I can.” Sasha shrugged. “And my lieutenant owns the catering company, so scheduling is no problem.”
Abby nodded. Sasha was a family person. She was also more complex than Abby had originally thought. It intrigued her.
“What about you? I know you’re both beautiful and an accountant—we already reviewed that. But where do you…account?” Sasha paused. “I realize that’s not a word but it’s out there and I can’t take it back. So work with me.”
Abby laughed. “I work for a nonprofit. I help them manage their books. I find great joy in helping such a worthy cause maneuver the complex tax system. It’s a good use of my love of numbers—at least I’m giving back.”
“Basically, you’re a money genius,” Sasha said.
“I wouldn’t say that.” This money talk was making Abby itch. “I like order and organization and I don’t mind filling out spreadsheets of itemized deductions. Maybe it’s a control thing.” She shrugged.
Sasha raised an eyebrow at this statement. “Do you have a thing for control?”
“Don’t we all at some point in our lives?”
“Mm, maybe.” Sasha cocked her head to the side and seemed to consider this. “I assumed you were a money genius because of the auction. That was an impressive amount of dough you shelled out for this date. A date I would have done for free a dozen times over.”
“Really?” That was sweet.
“Really, really.” Sasha sounded confident in that statement. It made Abby feel important, like she was valued. That was a strange feeling to have on a first date—she decided she would unpack that feeling later. “I guess I’m just impressed is all.”
“Don’t be,” Abby said. “I work with numbers and money all day long. I’m the write-off queen. And it was a charitable donation.” Abby was careful to downplay the bidding war. She didn’t dare tell Sasha that the money she made at the nonprofit—a nonprofit her family ran—barely covered her living expenses. She especially didn’t mention that her family’s money ensured that she would never have to work a day in her lifetime if she didn’t want to. Her lifetime and the lifetimes of her children and four or five generations of grandchildren at that. No need to mention that. Nope. Not at all.
Sasha was smiling.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just, you’re really refreshing.” Sasha looked relieved. “I wasn’t so sure about this whole matchmaking thing. To be honest, a lot of the women Samantha introduced me to were self-important and spoiled. I just don’t understand people who don’t have to work for a living. There is no way they can really understand and empathize with us regular folk if they live on another planet entirely, you know?” Sasha shrugged and Abby wanted to be invisible. “I was about to bail on the whole thing until I was introduced to Shelly. She was the first person I felt like I had a decent connection with who wasn’t driven by greed or money lust. I guess that was the turning point for me—it was the first time I felt like there might be something legit to Samantha’s process. In the end, I think Shelly found her perfect match in Claire, and I’m glad for her, really, but it was eye-opening for me, to say the least.”
Abby nodded, unsure of what to say. Sasha was being so candid and honest with her, and Abby felt herself being envious of that quality. And a little afraid of it. Sasha gave so freely. They were just getting to know each other, yet she didn’t seem inhibited at all.
Eager to change the direction of the conversation, she asked the question she had been dying to know all night. Sasha would be considered a catch by anyone’s standards. She was tall, gorgeous, sexy as hell, smart, funny, and had an amazingly selfless job. All of that combined with the fact that she was apparently also an open book raised the question, why was she single? There had to be something wrong with her, right?
“All right, so tell me the truth, what brought you to Perfect Match?”
Sasha looked embarrassed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”
“And yet I did. Spill.”
“A bet.”
This was unexpected. “A what? You started working with Samantha on a bet? I need details.”
Sasha told her the story and sighed. “The truth is, I was curious. The bet was a way for me to justify trying to get in the door, because I was a little too worried I’d be turned away.”
Abby couldn’t imagine why Sasha would be turned away from anything, ever.
“And you? What brought you to Samantha and Andrew?”
She supposed she set herself up for this one.
Sasha continued, “I work crazy hours and a lot of people think firefighters are dumb brutes. Which, to be fair, is kinda true some of the time. Exhibit A, the flaming cookie incident.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “But you’re smart and put together and sarcastic and beautiful—who wouldn’t want to date you?”
The answer was simple. Most women she had met did want to date her. The trouble was the vast majority wanted to date her money and her family connections, not Abby herself. She had started working with Samantha in hopes of finding a perfect match with someone on an organic and intimate level. She wanted to remove the complications her family’s wealth added to every layer of her life. She had joined the matchmaking service to find someone who was her perfect match in every way, outside of the financial side of things—that was the truth.
“Uh.” Sasha’s interest was genuine. Abby couldn’t remember another time that someone had paid such close attention to the things she said. It was a little intoxicating. “I seem to find myself dating the same type of people over and over. But clearly, I’ve not found the right person, so it seemed like a wise idea to let a professional handle it. What did I have to lose?” Most of that was true. Sort of. Except for the part where she didn’t mention hiring Samantha to make sure she wasn’t matched with a gold digger.
“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Sasha lightened the mood again and Abby was grateful. “Okay—regardless of how we got here, we’re here. I made two hundred dollars on a bet and got out of kitchen duty for two whole shifts. And after a little bit of a journey, I met you. So it’s all good.”
“Oh yeah? And do you think I’m your perfect match?” Abby wasn’t serious, but Sasha looked like she was.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I’m willing to find out.”
Abby was charmed. “So it was a win-win then.”
“Oh yeah. I’m totally winning.”
Abby wondered if in fact she was the one winning tonight. Sasha’s skin glowed in the soft light of the patio. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly; she wore a lighter shade on her lips tonight, almost subduing their fullness. But Sasha’s eyes had her attention—her full, dark eyelashes showcased their deep brown color in a way Abby hadn’t noticed before. The flicker of the votive candle reflected gold flecks in her irises. It was hypnotizing—she fel
t like she could stare at them all night and not get bored.
“Can I tell you something?” Sasha’s voice was low.
“I wish you would.” Abby was glad they were separated from the other diners Micah had invited for his tasting menu. The night was warm enough that they could sit comfortably outdoors for the entire evening, without any of the surrounding tables near enough to hear their conversation. She was grateful for that now especially. Because if Sasha lowered her voice to the sexy, honey-dripping level again, she wanted it to be for her ears only.
“I like you. I like you and I regret having met you before that night at the wedding and not taking the opportunity to get to know you better.” Sasha reached across the table and traced her fingers along Abby’s hand, making slow, sensual circles on the inside of her wrist. It was incredibly intimate and bold. Sasha’s boldness drew her in deeper every time. In the short time they had known each other, there had been more than one occasion when Abby’d had her guard up to Sasha’s charms and flirtations. But Sasha’s sincerity and boldness broke down her walls and made Abby want to know more about her. This statement was one of many like that tonight. It was honest and vulnerable and bold. And Abby loved it.
“I’m glad we did this.” She meant that. She turned her hand over and Sasha rested her fingers in Abby’s palm, tapping and massaging lightly. Abby wondered what other parts of her Sasha could massage like that.
Courtney appeared with the check and Abby took it before Sasha had a chance to protest. When Sasha reached for her purse, Abby stopped her, intertwined the fingers of their joined hands, and squeezed. “You get the next one.”
Sasha smiled and nodded, but said nothing.
When Courtney returned with her credit card and her copy of the check, she handed something wrapped in linen to Sasha with a wink. Abby raised an eyebrow in Sasha’s direction and was met with a confident gaze.
“Thank you for dinner. And for being the highest bidder.” Sasha unwrapped the linen and handed Abby one of the most intricate and beautiful bouquets of flowers she had ever seen. It was bursting with color: roses, Gerbera daisies, tulips—her knowledge of flower names was exhausted by the sheer variety of the bouquet. It was unlike anything she had ever seen and yet the many different flower types were so cohesively matched by their astonishing vibrancy, an organized chaos of color and the nicest arrangement she had ever been given. “I wasn’t sure what your favorite flower might be, so I got a little creative and decided a rainbow would be safe.”