couches. Not if they hadn’t fucked like bunnies yet.
Bewilderment reigned supreme.
“What? No. You can’t be over it. You haven’t met the third guy yet. Sam.”
“I don’t wanna meet the third guy. I just want to stop the bet.” That wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t top on her list of priorities to discuss this evening.
“You have to meet him,” Charlie insisted. “He’s a doctor. A pediatrician. Brilliant guy too. He’s the one, Sar. I can feel it. You’re gonna love him.”
Sarah instinctively disagreed. She didn’t want to love Doctor Sam. Wasn’t interested in loving him. She truly had had enough of Charlie’s matchmaking services. Today’s events at lunch had cemented that decision for her.
Wait a minute. “The one?” She gawked at him. “Now you’re talking long-term prospects? I thought you just wanted to introduce me to a few guys who’d find me attractive and fun to be with.”
“Yeah. That was my intention. At first. But Sam…” Charlie nodded. “I’ve got a good feeling about the two of you. A wedding-bells feeling.”
The hairs on Sarah’s arms stood on end. She’d come to discuss Charlie and Sarah, and Charlie was talking… “Wedding bells?”
“He’s the marrying kind. In it for the long haul.”
Unlike Charlie, who’d shoved marriage to the bottom of his to-do list.
She gulped in a couple mouthfuls of air, trying hard to still the panic fluttering in her chest. Charlie was trying to marry her off…to someone else!
Charlie, the guy who’d made love to her so many times and in so many ways over the last eighteen months she’d begun to feel like a sexual goddess in his presence. The man who’d instinctively known which five items she’d save from a fire had found her the one and was trying to marry her off to him.
Her stomach twisted and pain lanced through her chest.
When Charlie had seen her to the door that night last week, after their discussion, that same pain had cut through her. As soon as Charlie had mentioned saving her PhD certificate, he’d seemed to pull away from her. Seemed to cut himself off without an explanation, and Sarah had hated it.
But she’d put the unexpected sense of hurt and rejection down to premenstrual tension and wild hormones. Charlie hadn’t been acting out of character by sending her home, he’d been acting out of character by spending nights with her.
But this pain now had nothing to do with wild hormones. She wasn’t premenstrual anymore. And that just added to her internal confusion. What was going on with her, and what was going on with Charlie?
Everything had changed since they’d made that bet: their relationship, the way they interacted, the intensity of the sex, everything.
Now she just wished she’d never followed through on it. She wished nothing had ever changed. But still she couldn’t seem to find the courage to broach the subject with him. Not while Charlie sat there, harping on about her marrying another man.
“Listen, Char. You were right. I get it now. Not all men think I’m a boring fuddy-duddy. Both Myles and Henry were more interested in me than I expected.”
Something snapped in Charlie’s eyes, and his gaze bore into her. “Did something happen with them?”
Sarah bit her lip. “Myles phoned a couple of days ago. Asked to see me again.”
“And?”
“And I said no. I told you, he wasn’t for me.”
Charlie gave a short nod. “And Henry?”
“Henry also asked to see me again. I said yes.” Damn, how could she have read that invitation so wrong?
Charlie looked surprised. “You went out with him a second time?”
Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders stiffen?
“Today. We met for lunch. And apparently you called it right—he found me both interesting and attractive. He, uh, tried to kiss me as we left.”
Not her imagination. His shoulders were rigid. “What the fuck? I thought you said you only liked him as a friend.”
“I did.” And she’d assumed she’d
Bewilderment reigned supreme.
“What? No. You can’t be over it. You haven’t met the third guy yet. Sam.”
“I don’t wanna meet the third guy. I just want to stop the bet.” That wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t top on her list of priorities to discuss this evening.
“You have to meet him,” Charlie insisted. “He’s a doctor. A pediatrician. Brilliant guy too. He’s the one, Sar. I can feel it. You’re gonna love him.”
Sarah instinctively disagreed. She didn’t want to love Doctor Sam. Wasn’t interested in loving him. She truly had had enough of Charlie’s matchmaking services. Today’s events at lunch had cemented that decision for her.
Wait a minute. “The one?” She gawked at him. “Now you’re talking long-term prospects? I thought you just wanted to introduce me to a few guys who’d find me attractive and fun to be with.”
“Yeah. That was my intention. At first. But Sam…” Charlie nodded. “I’ve got a good feeling about the two of you. A wedding-bells feeling.”
The hairs on Sarah’s arms stood on end. She’d come to discuss Charlie and Sarah, and Charlie was talking… “Wedding bells?”
“He’s the marrying kind. In it for the long haul.”
Unlike Charlie, who’d shoved marriage to the bottom of his to-do list.
She gulped in a couple mouthfuls of air, trying hard to still the panic fluttering in her chest. Charlie was trying to marry her off…to someone else!
Charlie, the guy who’d made love to her so many times and in so many ways over the last eighteen months she’d begun to feel like a sexual goddess in his presence. The man who’d instinctively known which five items she’d save from a fire had found her the one and was trying to marry her off to him.
Her stomach twisted and pain lanced through her chest.
When Charlie had seen her to the door that night last week, after their discussion, that same pain had cut through her. As soon as Charlie had mentioned saving her PhD certificate, he’d seemed to pull away from her. Seemed to cut himself off without an explanation, and Sarah had hated it.
But she’d put the unexpected sense of hurt and rejection down to premenstrual tension and wild hormones. Charlie hadn’t been acting out of character by sending her home, he’d been acting out of character by spending nights with her.
But this pain now had nothing to do with wild hormones. She wasn’t premenstrual anymore. And that just added to her internal confusion. What was going on with her, and what was going on with Charlie?
Everything had changed since they’d made that bet: their relationship, the way they interacted, the intensity of the sex, everything.
Now she just wished she’d never followed through on it. She wished nothing had ever changed. But still she couldn’t seem to find the courage to broach the subject with him. Not while Charlie sat there, harping on about her marrying another man.
“Listen, Char. You were right. I get it now. Not all men think I’m a boring fuddy-duddy. Both Myles and Henry were more interested in me than I expected.”
Something snapped in Charlie’s eyes, and his gaze bore into her. “Did something happen with them?”
Sarah bit her lip. “Myles phoned a couple of days ago. Asked to see me again.”
“And?”
“And I said no. I told you, he wasn’t for me.”
Charlie gave a short nod. “And Henry?”
“Henry also asked to see me again. I said yes.” Damn, how could she have read that invitation so wrong?
Charlie looked surprised. “You went out with him a second time?”
Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders stiffen?
“Today. We met for lunch. And apparently you called it right—he found me both interesting and attractive. He, uh, tried to kiss me as we left.”
Not her imagination. His shoulders were rigid. “What the fuck? I thought you said you only liked him as a friend.”
“I did.” And she’d assumed she’d
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