Page 82 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
Or maybe it’s just that I have a good woman in my life now and I want everyone else to have the same.
Fuck.
Because, yup, Smitty’s matchmaking nonsense is definitely corrupting me.
“Yo, Leo!” he hollers on the heels of that thought, and everyone is so used to all of his booming that he barely warrants a second glance.
I can almost hear my teammate sigh as he turns toward us. “What do you want, Smitty?” he calls back.
“Grab me one of those sandwich things from the kitchen, would ya?”
Leo’s already opening his mouth to retort even before Smitty completes his semi-question, semi-order (and yeah, now I’m wondering what Faye thinks of those…and how quickly I can implement them in the bedroom) when the rest of the words seem to process Leo’s brain.
A heartbeat later, all the irritation clears from his face. “On it,” he calls back, his focus already on the kitchen.
Or really, on the woman in the kitchen.
“You know there’s a platter of sandwiches right there,” I tell Smitty, nodding to the table, all of three feet away from us and currently loaded with food.
“I sure do.”
I wait for him to explain.
He gets on doing just that. “But those sandwiches”—he nods to the platter—“won’t get Leo near Harper.”
I frown. “Who’s Harper?”
“The caterer Leo hasn’t been able to stop staring at.” A jerk of his chin toward the kitchen, his mouth curving into a wide smile. “And now the one who he hopefully won’t be able to stop talking to.”
I watch as Leo sidles close and strikes up a conversation with Harper.
Damn, the man’s good.
“You’re devious, you know that, right?”
Smitty just laughs. “No”—a shrug—“well, yeah. But also, I’m a matchmaker at heart.”
“You’re still on that nonsense?”
“My track record speaks for itself. No matter what that Blue Line Matchmaker is doing.” He scowls. “Don’t ask. Someone’s trying to overtake my kingdom is all. I’ll sort it out.”
“Right,” I say and since I don’t really care about Smitty’s matchmaking endeavors, I allow myself to do what I really want…look back at Faye.
“She seems more settled today,” he says, clearly following my stare.
“You fuckers take some getting used to is all.”
A chuckle. “That we do. But it’s more than that.” He slants a look in my direction, lifts his eyebrows in question.
“It’s more than that,” I agree, Faye’s laughter drifting through the air to settle on my skin, in my heart. Then a thought occurs to me—outrageous and terrifying. “You don’t have an affinity for fire, do you?”
He frowns. “What? No. That shit’s almost as scary as wombats.”
Right.
That would be an insane length to go to in order to bring Faye and me together, despite how committed Smitty is to his matchmaking efforts.
He wouldn’t risk her—wouldn’t risk anyone—like that.
