Finding Mr. Right Next Door Page 3

  Finally, she put away the orange juice she’d left on the counter, easing his tension a notch. But only a small one, because he’d gladly let it sit there all day if she’d shelve her plans to meet strangers from the internet. Which bothered him almost as much as her thwarted intent to keep him from finding out. What was she going to do? Have some loser drop her off at the end of the block and hope he didn’t notice her coming home in her high heels and… Lexi didn’t really wear high heels. Would she start? He groaned inwardly but the effort to hide it was wasted. She was ignoring him, talking instead to the dog, who managed after a few of her soft murmurs to shoot an impressive side-eye in Matt’s direction. He didn’t buy the coincidence. Waffles had long preferred her for everything but his meals, probably because Matt insisted on walking him while Waffles and Lexi had more of a leisurely relationship. In other words, they watched rom-coms and shared bowls of frozen yogurt.

  Only when Lexi grabbed her keys and purse off the counter did she spare him a glance. “No worries, Matt. What are the odds of me almost burning my house down and going out with a serial killer in the same week?”

  She scratched the dog’s head, then breezed through the door and off toward work without a backward look. He waited to answer until he heard her car start.

  “Anyone else,” he muttered. “Slim to none.” He left the rest unspoken, and feeling unsettled, he headed out for a walk with a reluctant nearly two-hundred-pound dog whose look of disdain when he saw the leash suggested he’d already taken sides.

  And definitely not Matt’s.

  Chapter Four

  Despite Lexi’s utter confidence that she had every right to pursue her own thing, she still grappled with feelings of guilt for keeping the news of her dating aspirations from Matt. Knowing he’d only antagonize her about it made her feel foolish, not less guilty, and that irritated her. And Matt was only part of the problem.

  The looks stemming from the booth where Jack, Diego, and Matt sat at their favorite diner suggested Matt had filled them in. Yep, problem amplified.

  Their group—which also included the yet to arrive Shane and Caitlin—had decided to meet Monday evening to accommodate Lexi’s plans. Caitlin was Lexi’s closest friend outside of Matt, though in many ways she and Caitlin were arguably closer, because there were some things she would not share with a man. Lexi had filled her in on the fire the next day. She’d also mentioned the dating site. She’d have done so a lot sooner if not for the fact that Caitlin’s husband, Shane, was one of Matt’s best friends. It was only a matter of time before he knew.

  A point that seemed confirmed, since Caitlin appeared more than a little sheepish as she trailed her husband to the table where Lexi sat with three grinning firemen and a rather conspicuous elephant in the room, though at first glance Lexi wasn’t sure if the elephant belonged to the fire or to her dating news.

  Shane Hendricks, shift lieutenant to Lexi’s finely chiseled table mates, mirrored their humor as he slid into the circular booth, causing the entire group to shift until Lexi and Matt were practically attached. Nothing new there. “So, Lexi,” Shane began without ceremony, a greeting, or even taking a breath, “what’s this I hear about you being in the market for a boyfriend?” He ended with a pained look and Caitlin’s elbow planted between a couple of ribs.

  Jack leaned back in the booth, his green eyes bright beneath a short crop of light brown hair. “Are we not going to talk about her nearly burning down her house?”

  Shane, still rubbing his side, said, “The question is whether any of us are shocked that Lexi nearly burned down her house.” He glanced around at the others, taking a silent assessment while Lexi sank lower in her seat. “Right. Now, who is surprised she’s dating someone?”

  “I have dated precisely no one,” Lexi protested, shooting a mildly dirty look at every single one of them—including Caitlin, the traitor—for raising their hands at Shane’s question.

  “Which, to be honest, is kind of our point,” Jack said. He must have caught sight of the waitress, because he raised his hand and gave the come hither gesture.

  “You all have the same point?” Lexi asked.

  “We have a collaborative point,” Diego said with a shrug.

  The waitress popped over to take orders from the group, promising to be right back with drinks. The interruption wasn’t nearly long enough to distract them into a change of topic, Lexi feared, though she desperately tried to think of one. Diego, she noted, seemed happier these days following a couple of subdued years after his now ex-wife screwed him over—both in the marriage and in the divorce—but that topic had all the possibility of going over like a lead balloon. Not that she thought he’d forgotten what he’d been through, but bringing it up was a surefire end to his decent mood, whatever the reason.

  Even if the reason was her own mess of a situation.

  “Not that we’re not happy for you.” Shane picked up where he’d left off, his nearly paternal tone causing Lexi to cringe inside. Actually, it was more of a final straw than the cause.

  “I’m almost impressed with your”—exasperated, she waved her hand to suggest she meant every single one of them—“ability to make me wish we were talking about the fire, and believe me, I dreaded that topic.”

  “She did dread it,” Matt said somberly. “She tried to swear me to secrecy.”

  “I heard it on the scanner,” Jack said.

  “Thank you,” Lexi muttered. “Now we’re talking about both dreaded things.”

  “To be fair,” Diego pointed out, “you brought up the fire.”

  “One might even say you started it,” Matt added, nudging against her as if to ensure she caught what he no doubt considered a supremely brilliant joke.

  Lexi sighed and look toward the ceiling, not finding help up there. They weren’t wrong, but at least they’d momentarily forgotten about her dating situation.

  The waitress arrived then with their drinks. Lightning speed. Great timing. Lexi immediately dug into her milkshake, vowing to throw a little extra down on top of her usual tip. The drinks brought a collective twenty seconds of silence.

  And not a millisecond more.

  “So when’s the big date?” Shane asked.

  None of them should be surprised, not that she couldn’t have seen it coming. The reason for their collective surprise-slash-disbelief sat next to her on the worn vinyl booth, conveniently shoulder to shoulder, so she was relieved of the burden of having to meet his eyes.

  Matt. The one everyone else seemed to think was The One.

  The one who was absolutely, positively, definitely not The One.

  For years—and despite a winning combination of astute denial on their parts and absolutely no evidence to the contrary—Matt and Lexi had been considered a sure thing, so it came as no shock that every gaze at the table landed on him. Never had she seen the group so readily ignore the burgers that had just arrived, their juicy inch-thick patties piled high with bacon and dripping two kinds of melted cheese.

  It’s no big deal, she wanted to say. Because it wasn’t. But such a claim at this point would only provide ammo to this group, so she turned instead to her ten-thousand-calorie milkshake—probably not much of an exaggeration but worth it and then some—and sucked a huge mouthful through the straw. But it was too thick for the straw, and she ended up coughing—coughing while sucking—which only made things ten times as awkward, especially once she realized strains of Let’s Get it On drifted from the diner’s vintage jukebox.

  What she wouldn’t give in that moment for that red vinyl bench to open up and let her fall into oblivion. Not that that would help her dating situation.

  They all stared expectantly.

  “It’s no big deal, guys. I just signed up for a dating site.” She saw the smirk forming on Jack’s face probably before he knew about it himself and immediately elaborated, sparing him the breath he was about to
waste. “Dating, not hookup. No offense, but hanging out with you guys all the time doesn’t exactly make me seem approachable—”

  “I’m actually a bit offended,” Jack said, impishly adding, “We’re delightful.”

  Lexi acknowledged as much, though she wasn’t sure she’d go with delightful. “You are all also in indecently good shape, stupidly hot, and intimidating as hell for any mere mortal. What guy would approach a woman in the middle of this”—once again, she gestured to the table—“and think he had a chance?”

  Matt had been unusually quiet, but he chose that moment to speak up. Dredging fries through ketchup, he asked, “What guy would be worth your time if he couldn’t get over himself and approach you despite your circle of stupidly hot friends?”

  He had a point. A surprisingly sweet one, seemingly free of jest. “Look at Caitlin,” Lexi said, shooting her friend a knowing look. “She had to call 911 to meet Shane.”

  “Actually, someone else called,” Shane said. “She was too afraid to move.”

  “I was stuck on a bridge,” Caitlin immediately countered. Caitlin was afraid of heights, and the bridge in question towered above the water. Clearly they’d had this conversation a time or ten. “With no intention at all of meeting Shane.”

  “You were standing on a perfectly safe pedestrian walkway,” Shane reminded her. “As for the rest, you just got lucky.” He grinned, then added, “Actually, I did. Changed my life.”

  “Nevertheless,” Lexi butted in, aching for the relationship her life sorely lacked, “only one of you is currently in a relationship, and it required sirens.”

  “Is that why you set fire to your kitchen?” Diego asked. “So I’d come rescue you?”

  “I was there first,” Matt reminded him. “And she didn’t know you were subbing a shift that day. I don’t think that was for you.”

  “Which begs the question,” Jack said with the kind of feigned intrigue that screamed clickbait. “Was it for Matt?”

  The table fell still and silent, everyone staring at them with the kind of ramped up anticipation that was probably supposed to lead to some big moment.

  Yeah…no.

  What everyone else thought really didn’t matter. She and Matt knew it would never work between them. They wanted different things. He had already sowed enough wild oats to fatten every starving kid, pet, and mountain goat in Colorado with no sign of slowing down. She, on the other hand, wanted a white picket fence, maybe a couple of kids. They were already missing the fence that should have divided their backyards—admittedly a stroke of genius that gave Waffles easy access to both of their houses—but it was enough. Matt could have her fence, but he wasn’t getting anywhere near her reproductive game.

  Besides, with their lives as entwined as they were, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like for their friendship to blow up. Her parents had practically raised him, and she claimed his grandmother as her own. Holidays would never be the same. Facing him at work would be a nightmare. The thought of it was enough to give her pause at the idea of staying at his house for three weeks. She wouldn’t be getting anywhere near his bed.

  She realized they were all still looking at her, as if the question demanded a serious answer. As if she had actually decided to play damsel in distress and risk burning down her house on the off chance that he’d come running over to save the day.

  The fact that he had was moot.

  “It was definitely not for Matt,” she said.

  Matt leaned back and stretched his arm across the seat behind her, a smirk playing on his mouth. “Yep. She knew better than to think that would reel me in.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I did. Because if I recall correctly, you stood there helplessly, begging me to call dispatch.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Someone had to save me from your cooking.”

  “I was baking.”

  “You were endangering the neighborhood. And you messed up Diego’s hair.”

  “Hey.” Diego plopped a hand on his head, clearly having forgotten his hair was too short to muss. That, and he’d probably had no fewer than three showers in the three days since.

  Jack shook his head. “Forget finding a boyfriend, Lex. You and Matt need a marriage counselor.”

  “Not even close to being married,” Matt said.

  “I don’t know,” Lexi said, glancing at Caitlin. “There’s no sex, and apparently I’m not allowed to see other people. Sounds like a marriage to me.”

  “Hey,” Shane said, shooting his wife a wounded look.

  “I didn’t tell her that,” Caitlin protested. “At least the part about sex. The not seeing other people thing stands.”

  “Damn straight, it does,” Shane grumbled, though a grin teased the corners of his mouth.

  Lexi almost sighed out loud. That was what she wanted. Her front-row seat to Matt’s love life was enough for her to know she didn’t want the serial dating part. She didn’t even need the grand gesture that always closed out the rom-coms she loved so much, because she didn’t want the drama that preceded it. Nope. She wanted something comfortable. Simple. Something she could count on, someone to share her life with. Her friends were the best anyone could ever have, but regardless of where she spent the evening, at the end of the day she was alone.

  “You can date anyone you want,” Matt said, pointedly ignoring them both. She wondered where his mind had gone to make him say that.

  “Good to know,” Lexi said easily. “Because I will.” Definitely someone other than Matt, who seemed to have ranked her somewhere behind the last woman on earth around the time he turned laundry day into a treasure hunt for his socks and underwear, which never seemed to hit the hamper. Hardly tinder for romance. At least not as far as she was concerned—an opinion she’d voiced regularly over the years.

  Lexi was lonely, and her close relationship with Matt and his dirty socks weren’t cutting it.

  “If word gets out that you’re on a dating site,” Jack said, dragging her from her thoughts and away from the gigantic bite of cheeseburger she’d just scarfed, “you’ll be able to date everyone you want.”

  “I’m not going to date everyone,” she told him after she finished chewing and swallowed the not entirely food-related lump. “So far, just—” She stopped short, realizing what she’d almost said and how very small the chance was that she’d be able to avoid saying it now.

  Diego perked, clearly having picked up on Lexi’s sudden discomfort. “Just who? Do you have a date? Who is it?”

  Lexi’s jaw clamped shut. It was a cop. And there was no way she’d tell a table full of firefighters she was going out with a cop. The rivalry between the Dry Rock police and fire departments made Army versus Navy look like toddlers having a bubble fight. “No one you know,” she managed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Matt said easily. “He can’t possibly measure up to me.”

  Shane looked up from his burger, brow cocked. “Is there measuring going on?”

  “I think what he’s saying is that no one else is going to dump his laundry on my floor and steal half my pizza,” Lexi said.

  Next to her, Matt snort-laughed. “Or bring you a made-from-scratch breakfast on the daily.”

  “Please,” Lexi said. “Adding water to instant pancake mix doesn’t take skill.”

  “Really?” he shot back. “Then why can’t you do it?”

  Lexi opened her mouth, then wisely closed it. He wasn’t wrong.

  “So this date. Where are you off to?” Caitlin was clearly trying to shift the subject.

  Lexi hesitated. If she told them, they’d probably set up surveillance. But as long as the guy didn’t show up in uniform, she’d be fine.

  She’d waited too long to answer the question. Everyone stared, a hush falling over them like there were three seconds left on the play clock and the Broncos were one s
ixty-yard field goal away from another championship ring. Crap.

  “Tomorrow. Brews Brothers,” she said. She’d sounded normal, right?

  Diego broke the silence. “Brews Brothers? On a Tuesday night?”

  He sounded like he was on the verge of laughter. Lexi’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Why.”

  “That’s dollar beer night,” Jack said.

  Next to her, Matt snorted. “That stuff I said about a serial killer? Never mind.”

  Lexi frowned. “He could still be a serial killer.”

  “Um, I’m not sure whose side to take,” Caitlin said, glancing back and forth between them.

  “Matt is worried I’m going to end up with a serial killer,” Lexi said. “Apparently, dollar beer night kills any chance of that.”

  “Not ambitious enough,” Matt said.

  “Protective much?” Caitlin asked.

  “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?” Matt asked.

  “The kind that draws the line over dollar beer,” Lexi pointed out. Actually, the news didn’t sit that well with her. She wasn’t familiar with the local bar scene and hadn’t questioned Dave-the-cop’s choice, having assumed it was a low-key spot for a date and wouldn’t be crowded on a Tuesday night.

  But for dollar beer, it would probably be packed.

  And as for first impressions, it wasn’t much, but she wasn’t going to write the guy off just yet. She just hoped he’d be as forgiving, because before their date even started, he’d have to get past Matt.

  Chapter Five

  Matt frowned the next evening, his attention presumably on the television in front of him but more accurately glued in the general direction of the hallway. Lexi had left the bathroom nearly an hour ago, a plume of berry-something scented heat billowing in his direction as she disappeared the opposite way into the guest room. The snick of the lock echoed, weirdly timed to a momentary silence between commercials, and he frowned. Lexi was going out with an internet stranger to a bar on dollar beer night and she locked the door on him?