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I’m buying.”

“What? I can’t go in there. I’m a married woman.”

“Not this afternoon.” Georgie links up with my other arm, and soon we’re migrating toward the entrance along with the crowd. “Look at it this way. You’re vetting these turkeys for Macy and me.”

Macy nods. “And I’ll make sure you talk to Eve before we leave. Remember, I like them good-looking, funny, and filthy rich. Not necessarily in that order.”

Georgie fluffs out her hair. “I’ll take ’em in any order I can get ’em so long as they’re still breathing. There’s always a handful that prefers an intellectual, far more experienced woman.” She looks to my sassy sister. “Ten bucks says I’ll come away the victor from this denizen of dating.”

“Dream on, hippie,” Macy says as she antes up at the door, and soon the three of us have all donned red pointy felt hats and are handed a glass of white wine—to ease the pain of that fifty-dollar assault, I’m sure.

It’s cozy inside although the store itself looks expansive. A few racks of clothes are scattered about, and beyond that there are a few tables with books and candles strewn over them, but mostly I see people. Soft music bleats over the speakers, but the roar of the crowd and the intermittent laughter are at a far higher decibel.

I’m not a big drinker, but I like the idea of holding something I can splash into someone’s face should they get too frisky.

The woman checking us in takes our phone numbers and gives us each a sticker with a code on it to wear over our chests.

She smiles up at us. “Just text back single and ready to mingle once you get the alert and then deep dive into the crowd to meet your soulmate. If you see someone you like, just text his code to us, and at the end of the mingle we’ll do all the heavy lifting as far as exchanging phone numbers. It’s just an extra step in security we like to take. Have a good time!”

My expression sours.

I’ve already found my soulmate. Another reason I should cut my losses and head to the bakery down the street and stuff my face with cream puffs until this dating disaster is over.

Our phones each ping at once, and we quickly type in the requisite phrase. My phone pings again, and I stare at it a moment.

“That’s funny. They just sent me another text.”

Macy takes my phone from me and examines it. “Nope, they just sent it once.”

“But I could swear I just sent the requisite text back.” I back out of the screen and a little yelp escapes me. “Oh no, no, no, no, no. I just texted Jasper single and ready to mingle!”

A guttural laugh comes from Georgie as she examines my screen from over my shoulder.

“You’ve got a lot of ’splaining to do, kiddo. Don’t worry. Hux is a top-notch divorce attorney. He’ll get you out without a hitch to your giddy-up.” She presses a kiss to Rudolph’s nose, and he pants and looks as if he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Turn up the cute stuff, furry pants. We’re off to the races.” Georgie disappears into the crowd as the music increases a notch—a love ballad Jasper and I danced to at our wedding.

Just great.

I quickly input single and ready to mingle once again—into the proper thread and instantly receive a text saying that I’m cleared to roam the premises.

Macy leans in. “Oh geez,” she hisses as if she just touched a hot plate. “Dibs on the hulk with the neck tattoo.”

“I don’t know,” I say, craning my neck to get a better look at him. “He looks more like the bouncer you should have at your wedding rather than the groom.”

“Who said anything about a wedding?” She pulls Fish out and cradles her like an infant she was about to breast-feed. “I’ve got my secret weapon. Don’t wait up.”

“Don’t wait up?” I call after her. “But you drove!”

“And just like that, the cheese stands alone,” I mutter.

The very married cheese.

My phone bleats in my hand, and it’s a text from Jasper.

Is this a role-play thing? Or should I be expecting some legal documents from your attorney this afternoon?

I text right back. Very funny. Let’s go with the first option. Can’t wait to see you tonight! I pepper the text with a bunch of smoochy emojis before I hit send, but deep down, I know there aren’t enough smoochy emojis in the world to make up for my latest debacle.

A man comes up with wire-rimmed glasses and a greasy smile. Handsome in a shifty sort of way, bald, ruddy cheeks, and pointed nose with a mirror shine. He’s swilling his wine my way, and a part of me wonders if that’s code for something. I haven’t dated in forever. Even before I met Jasper I was pretty rusty in this department.

“Twenty-three.” He points to the coded sticker on my chest. “I’m liking what I see. My name is Jack. I work in real estate. You wouldn’t believe the master bedrooms I have access to—furnished, too.” He waggles his brows. “Cheaper than a hotel. How about it? You ready to play house?”

“Gah!” I turn and quickly shuffle into the crowd. “I do not belong here,” I growl out the words in haste as I do my best to spot Eve. Instead, I spot her mini me in the corner with a couple of young girls about her age, and somehow they’ve managed to snatch Rudolph away from Georgie. It’s probably for the better. For some reason, Georgie Conner doesn’t need any help in picking up men of any age, and that cute little pup really did put her at an unfair advantage.

“Pardon me?” a deep voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see a tall, handsome steed of a man with a shock of red hair and a toothy smile.

He seems nice in a down-home wholesome way, and for a second I wish

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