Page 29 of The Mistletoe Kisser
She put down her fork and took back her coffee. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious, but either way, I’m intrigued. What are the four other most important choices?”
“College, career, real estate, health, and personal and professional relationships.” He ticked them off on his fingers.
She cupped her chin in her hand. “I find it very telling that you lump personal and professional relationships together.”
He shrugged. “Not much difference.”
“You’re an interesting underwear-less man,” she mused. “What criteria do you use to choose a significant other?”
“Compatibility, communication, shared beliefs around fiscal responsibility, and sexual compatibility.”
“Hang on. So physical attraction is pragmatic, but romance is what?”
“Inconsequential.” The vomiting, shower, food, and argument made him feel more human than he had the right to after killing the better part of a bottle. “You might be looking for some small-town fruit farmer to bring you flowers and gives you a PG kiss for your Christmas cards. But that’s not what works.”
She pulled out her phone. “Hang on. I need to cancel your meet-cute with the fruit farmer this afternoon.”
“Do I want to know what a meet-cute is?” he asked, devouring the last of his toast.
“Definitely not. So if it’s not PG Christmas cards, what doyouwant, Ryan?” She dropped her second triangle of toast on his plate.
He pounced on it. “That’s easy. I want a woman who contributes to her retirement savings while working a job that she enjoys and makes sense to me. That way I don’t have to suffer through any office holiday parties or corporate picnics where her co-workers complain about shit like Instagram filters.” He took a bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully. “I want someone who won’t complain if I stay late at the office four nights a week. A woman whose life doesn’t revolve around demanding more quality time from me.”
“So a roommate then?” she said with a smirk.
He gave her a cool look. “Someone who goes to dinner with my boss and her wife and can carry on an intelligent conversation all while reminding me she’s not wearing underwear under her dress.”
Thathad her attention.
Those lavender eyes widened, and her mouth curved into a smile. “Just when I was starting to think you were a robot.”
“Someone who asks for help reaching for something in the kitchen and then ends up taking my pants off against the fridge. Someone who makes me do things I don’t want to do so I don’t miss out on life outside the office.” Okay so maybe those last few weren’t on his official list. But he liked getting a rise out of her.
Ryan’s New Plan
1. Track down Rainbow Berkowicz.
2. Solve Uncle Carson’s financial problems.
3. Fly home and save his career.
4. Then find a woman who smiled at him like Sammy, enjoyed kitchen oral sex, and had a conservative investment portfolio.
“Well, well. The accountant has an unsuspected kinky side,” she said.
She didn’t look appalled, he noted. If anything, she looked intrigued… and a little flushed. Her knee was still pressing against his.
“So, Sam,” he said, leaning into her space from across the table. “You can keep your friendly first kiss with my idiot cousin. I’ll find my naughty 401(k) contributor.”
“I was fourteen,” she said dryly. “I wasn’t looking for reverse cowgirl or marriage. It was sweet, and so was he. You’d be surprised how the right kiss at the right time can change your path.”
“You’d be surprised at how a good plan can keep you going in the right direction,” he said, crunching into the toast.
“I bet Other Ryan is a much warmer, fuzzier adult than you are,” she said, pointing her fork at him.
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “My cousin is a shiftless douche. And I know without a doubt that I’m a better kisser.”
“Just keep telling yourself that, tiger,” she said, turning her attention back to her food and moving her leg away from his. A careful withdrawal.
