Read Online Set Up in SoHo (The Matchmaker Chronicles) by Dee Davis - Free Book Online

panic. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to the little guy, at least not until I got hold of him and wrung his fuzzy little neck.
    I took the corner, Jimmy Buffet lyrics ringing through my head. I’d never blown out a flip-flop but just at the moment it didn’t seem that far outside the realm of possibility.
    No sign of my wayward dog.
    I tried to call for him again, but thanks to the unintended wind sprint was capable only of an asthmatic whisper. A second bend appeared and I rounded it, thinking I was screwed, but no, there was Bentley—joyfully accosting a jogger, tongue lolling, tail wagging. (The dog, not the jogger.)
    I skidded to a stop. “I’m so sorry, he got away and . . . ,” I stopped, my heart, which was already beating chaotically, moving into triple time as my brain registered exactly who it was that Bentley was accosting.
    “I take it he belongs to you,” my stranger said with a crooked smile.
    “Yeah,” I whispered, trying to make sense of this newest turn of events.
    Okay, let’s just stop right here and say that walking in the park to clear my head is one thing. I mean, it’s just me and Bentley and a bunch of strangers. But running into the man who practically saved your life, wearing flip-flops, jeans, and a tatty T-shirt, is not the done thing. Especially when you add in the facts that I’d scrubbed off my makeup the minute we’d wrapped the show and that my hair, thanks to my recent wind sprint, probably resembled a Manhattan rat’s nest.
    I pushed said hair out of my face and strove for a calm I definitely didn’t feel. “I’m afraid he got away from me.” I looked down at Bentley, who was still eyeing my stranger with something akin to adoration. “He saw a squirrel and pulled free before I had a chance to react.”
    “Good thing I was here to head him off at the pass,” my stranger said, still smiling, his dark eyes taking in my disheveled appearance.
    “Yeah, I’m not exactly dressed for running.” But he was. Sweats, T-shirt, hot, sweaty—did I mention hot? Why is it men look good covered in sweat? It isn’t fair. Really. It’s not. “Anyway, thanks for saving the day. Again.”
    “Not a problem,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Just in the right place at the right time.”
    “Small world,” I said with a wry grin.
    “Well, it’s a little island.” He shrugged, reaching down to scoop Bentley up into his arms. My dog wiggled in doggy ecstasy as the man of the moment scratched him behind the ears.
    “You left without saying good-bye.” The words just came out of their own accord. But then my mouth had always had a mind of its own.
    “I thought maybe under the circumstances you’d rather be alone. Besides, your aunt had arrived, so I left you in good hands.”
    “That’s questionable, actually. But I understand. And I really do appreciate your help. You seem to be making a habit of riding to my rescue.”
    “Like I said, right place, right time,” he said, walking over to drop down on a bench, my moonstruck dog still snuggling in his arms. I followed with a sigh. It wasn’t like I had a choice. Really. He had my dog.
    “So,” I said, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bench, still wishing an Extreme Makeover team would arrive with the precision of a NASCAR pit crew to comb, curl, clothe, and otherwise transform me into something a little more presentable, “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
    He frowned for a minute and then smiled. “Ethan McCay. I would have introduced myself last night, but you were kind of down for the count.”
    “Not my finest moment.”
    “So, who’s this?” he asked, tactfully steering to a less awkward subject.
    “Bentley.” I smiled as said named dog stretched out on the bench between us, tail thumping like mad.
    “As in the car?”
    “Exactly,” I said, nodding my approval. “My grandfather owned two of them. Classics from the fifties. And when I was little I loved riding around in them. So I