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Something Borrowed (Wedding Season Series)

Page 6

by Tracy Lorraine


  Chasing Logan

  Ruined Series

  Ruined Plans #1

  Ruined by Lies #2

  Ruined Promises #3

  Never Forget Series

  Never Forget Him #1

  Never Forget Us #2

  Everywhere & Nowhere #3

  FLIRT CLUB SERIES

  The Cocktail Girls

  His Manhattan

  Her Kensington

  The Halloween Honeys

  His Sorority Sweetheart

  Second Helpings

  Cheeky Trifle

  Santa’s Coming

  Santa’s Naughty Elf

  Resolution Pact

  Resolution: Exposure

  Matchmaker

  Dear All Star Player

  Ireland Forever

  Forever Ruined (A Ruined series spin off)

  Mr. Billionaire

  Mr. Silver

  Spring Breakers

  Spring Break Secret Baby

  May Flowers

  His Cherry Blossom

  Rose

  “Will you put that damn cell phone down for five minutes so we can eat?” I complain when I spot my best friend swiping her way through the single men of St. Louis. “You know you’ll never find the one you’re looking for on what is basically a hook-up site.”

  “It is not a hook-up site; it’s a dating site. Everyone on here is looking for something serious.”

  “So serious you write them off based only on their appearances?” I ask with a raised brow.

  “Everyone has information about themselves on their profiles.”

  “And how many of those did you read while I was making dinner before you discarded them?”

  “Uh…”

  “Exactly. You want to meet someone, then you need to get out there,” I say, pointing out the window.

  “What, like you?”

  “This isn’t about me. I’m not the one looking for a man to warm my bed. I’m perfectly happy with my life as it is.”

  “Drink this,” Bryony says, pushing my wine glass towards me the second I set down her bowl of pasta. It’s Friday night and if she doesn’t have a date, then it’s become tradition that she turns up here expecting dinner. I’m not complaining; I love having someone else to cook for, someone to chat with. Even if the look in her eye right now tells me I’m not going to like what she’s about to say.

  Leaving the glass where it is, I pull out my chair and sit as I wait for her to admit what she’s done.

  “I’vesignedyouuptoamatchmaker.” It comes out as one long word before she swipes her own glass from the table and downs it.

  “I’m sorry. You’re going to need to say that again.”

  “I’ve signed you up to a…”

  “To a?”

  “Matchmaker,” she admits with a wince.

  “Bry, seriously? Why?”

  “Because you need to get out and meet someone.”

  “I get out every day and I meet plenty of people.”

  “Stop being facetious. You know exactly what I mean.”

  “Yeah I do, and I have no interest in meeting some guy who only wants to get between my legs.”

  “This isn’t one of those kinds of agencies.”

  “So, you’re admitting that the site you were just on is like that.”

  She waves me off before pulling some paperwork out of her purse. “What The Heart Wants is different. The lady who runs it personally matches couples, and although she can’t really dictate what people do, she strongly advises they get to know each other via letters or email before they decide if they want to meet. She wants people to find their soulmates without photographs and falseness.”

  Although I’m not happy about this, I must admit I quite like the old-fashioned ways of this dating agency. I could get behind the idea of getting to know someone before actually meeting them. I’d never admit it to Bryony, but the prospect of writing to a guy and getting to know the real him has a few butterflies beginning to flutter in my belly.

  “Let’s see that.”

  Taking the paperwork from her, I see that everything she’s just said is true. Grace, the owner, believes in the old-school ways of dating and wants to use her years of matchmaking experience to find her clients their perfect match.

  It soon appears that when Bryony said she’d signed me up, she was lying. What she really did was write a letter to Grace showing interest and, in return, got the application form I’m currently holding.

  “So? What do you think?”

  “I think I need to read this later when you’re not breathing down my neck—”

  “But you’re going to go for it, right?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Fucking hell, Rose. You might find the one,” she whispers, like there’s a chance she might jinx it.

  “I’m more likely to with this than you are with that.” I nod towards her cell, which is bleeping away on the table.

  “You are so going for it.”

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