Page 61 of One Sweet Match Up

“Get out.” He wasn’t sure it was right for a relative to win any of the prizes, not to mention, she didn’t pay for her meal, but he let her enjoy the moment.

Rachel squinted to read the bottom. “French culinary lessons with Marc. Who’s Marc?”

“My former business partner.”

“From the Rocky Top?” She straightened on her stool. “Are you flying me out to

Denver?”

“You wish.” Donovan scoffed. “Marc’s coming here in June.”

Rachel set her soup cup down and reached for a lock of her blond hair, twisting it with

her finger. “Well . . . if I remember . . . he’s quite handsome. I wouldn’t mind a lesson.” She added, batting her lashes, “A culinary one.”

“Calm down. You can’t win.” He snatched the cup from her.

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t pay for that lunch. It’s not really fair.”

“The hell it isn’t.” Rachel reached over to her purse, pulling out her wallet. It only took her two seconds to slap a twenty-dollar bill down in front of Donovan. “There. I paid. Marc’s mine . . . I mean the culinary lessons . . . they’re mine.”

Donovan grinned, shaking his head. Years of experience taught him it was no use arguing with Rachel. Not when her mind was made up. “He touches you, he’s a dead man.”

“Whatever.” Rachel grabbed her phone and snapped a selfie, holding up the cup.

Donovan could see Marc being totally smitten by Rachel. He’d always commented on how beautiful she was. Still, Donovan was really holding out for Rachel to give Will a try. If Rachel got serious with a guy who wasn’t Will, he wasn’t sure how his buddy would take it.

“Oh, wow.” She stared down at her phone. “I can’t believe it.”

“Good news?” He leaned in.

“Yeah.” She held her phone up. “I got a text from Bethany. Adam proposed.”

Wow indeed. “That’s great.” He cocked an eyebrow. “That’s great, right?”

Rachel tapped her finger across her phone. “Of course, it is.” She met his questioning gaze. “It’s awesome news. Bethany’s my best friend, and I want Adam to be happy. I always have.”

She stood and put on her coat, offering her seat to an old man who’d joined them at the counter.

“Welcome,” Donovan greeted him, picking up Rachel’s dirty dishes.

The old man maneuvered onto the stool, resting a brown cane against the empty stool next to him.

“Would you like to see a menu?” Donovan asked, glancing over at his sister who was now standing to the side, texting on her phone. No doubt making plans with Bethany.

“Actually, I’m looking for a gas station.” The old man chuckled, sliding his thick glasses in place. “This is a little embarrassing, but my car started sputtering outside your shop. I think I might be low on oil.”

Rachel stopped texting and looked at Donovan with wide eyes.

Was he hearing things? Judging by his sister’s reaction, no. He waved her off. “Um . . . I have a quart here.” He reached for the container and placed it on the counter in front of the old man. “Free of charge. You’re more than welcome to it.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” The man looked relieved.

Rachel placed her phone in her purse and buttoned up her coat. “Adam and Bethany are planning a celebratory gathering tonight at the Lakeside Inn around eight.”

“Great. I’ll try to make it.”

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