"Actually, I'm not looking right now."

"Now, I don't believe that for one minute. A man like you is always looking." She leaned in and spoke softly. "And trust me-I'm the one you're looking for."

Since the first day he'd come in here, Tracy had been turning herself inside out for his attention. Under any other circumstances, he'd have returned her interest, but these days he didn't have the option of hopping in the sack with any woman who happened to catch his eye.

"I think you have some new customers," Brandon said.

Tracy turned around to look at the man and woman having a seat at the other end of the bar. With a frown of frustration, she walked down to take their order.

The man sitting next to Brandon shook his head with disgust. "I hate women like her."

Brandon was shocked to hear him say that. So far he hadn't noticed any of the other male customers having a problem with Tracy's...uh, direct behavior.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm surprised she doesn't have a mattress strapped to her back. I divorced a woman like her. Cheated on me right and left."

Ah. Now it made sense.

"That's too bad," Brandon said.

"I'm just glad to be rid of her. She had a roving eye from the day we got married. I'm not sure, but I think she screwed my best man in the back of his SUV two hours before we walked down the aisle."

Brandon wanted to ask the guy why, if he had a suspicion like that, he married her anyway. But he was probably just one of those too trusting guys who didn't stand a chance against an evil, manipulating woman.

The guy took a sip of his beer and sighed. "Where are all the good women? Seriously. Where are they?"

All at once, the matchmaking sector of Brandon's brain lit up like Christmas. "So you don't like pushy women?"

"Pushy, calculating, slutty. Can't stand them. I just want a nice woman without all the drama. Is that too much to ask?"

"Do you want to get married again?"

"Absolutely. I loved being married. I just didn't love being married to a woman like her."

A man who loved marriage, but hated infidelity?

Brandon thought about the networking his grandmother had done, finding quality singles in all kinds of places to match up with her paying clients.

Maybe he needed to do the same.

A few minutes later, he'd found out the guy's name was David Pence. It was his first time at McCaffrey's. He had time to kill before meeting a salesman to sign the papers on a new car he was buying, so he'd dropped in. When Brandon told him what he did for a living and that he'd like to introduce him to that good woman he was looking for, he seemed excited.

A few questions later, and Brandon learned that David was an electrical engineer, thirty-eight years old, had a good income, didn't smoke, and he wanted kids. And the fact that he was repelled by women like Tracy told Brandon that the perfect woman for him just might be Alison.

By the time the guy left the bar, Brandon had made an appointment with him to come by the office the next day, bring a photo, and fill out a questionnaire. And authorize a background check, because he wasn't making that mistake again. Since Brandon was soliciting him with a particular woman in mind, he couldn't charge him for this match, but if things didn't work out between him and Alison, he might be able to convert him to a paying customer later.

All in all, it had been a productive afternoon.

"Can't believe he said that about Tracy," Tom said as David was walking out the door. "I'd do her in a heartbeat."

"I think that was David's problem with her," Brandon said. "She'd do any guy in a heartbeat."

Tom perked up. "Any guy?"

"Just wait until closing time. If she hasn't already hooked up, you'll look way better to her then."

"Gee, thanks. I can always count on you to give my ego a real boost. But I think it's you she's after."

"Not interested."

"In fact, there are a lot of women around here who are clearly out to get you. Any reason you're not taking advantage of that?"

"Because a bedhopping matchmaker isn't exactly the image I need to be conveying. Word will get around."

"So you actually intend to go months without getting laid? That would be a first."

Brandon didn't much like the thought of that, either, but he wasn't going to allow anything to get in the way of getting the money he needed. It was the only shot he had right now, so even if he had to maintain the sexual habits of a priest, he wasn't about to let it go.

When Brandon told Alison about David and then sent his information to her, she felt that tiny stirring of hope she always did whenever a new man was on the horizon. Still, she tried her best not to get her hopes up. Brandon had yet to prove himself, so this date could turn out even worse than the last one.

The next Friday night, she met David at the restaurant he'd suggested, which turned out to be one of those see-and-be-seen places she generally hated. Everyone was crammed butttobutt in the bar, swaying to the music and spilling martinis down each other's backs but looking fabulous while they were doing it. Alison only had so much fabulousness in her, and she wasn't sure this was a place where she wanted to waste any of it.

David himself, though, seemed as good as he'd sounded on paper. Dark hair, dark eyes, nice build, nicely dressed. He was thirty-eight, but if not for the touch of gray at his temples, she would have thought he wasn't much older than she was. When he turned and saw her for the first time, he smiled in a way that didn't seem phony, though some guys were really good at faking that first impression. She herself had mastered it. Fortunately, this time she could let her face relax into a genuine reflection of the way she felt, which was So far, so good.

The hostess escorted them to a table away from the bar where it was quieter, which was nice, even though they were still within sight of the beautiful people. David picked up the wine list. "How about a bottle of wine?"

"That'd be good," she said. Actually, great. First date nervousness sucked, and a little alcohol always made her brain settle down. A few minutes later they were sipping cabernet, and Alison began to relax.

"So you're an electrical engineer," she said. "That's interesting."

"Usually, yeah. But right now I'm stuck working on an optical emission spectrometer for metal analysis." He rolled his eyes. "Boring."

She nodded with sympathy, even though she didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"And you're in marketing?" he asked.

"Yeah. I work for Spangler Sweets. I'm basically a candy pusher. Our products are as addictive as meth, but we don't get thrown in jail for selling them."

It was her go-to opening line about her job that she used to determine if a guy had any sense of humor at all. A smile was all she was looking for. David actually laughed, which meant she could relax a little more.

The waitress brought their appetizer-chicken satay with a sweet cucumber sauce. But just as Alison was getting ready to dig in, David sat up straight, his eyes going wide as he looked at something over her right shoulder. She turned to look. No celebrity had walked in. Nothing was on fire. So what was he staring at?

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He turned his eyes back to Alison, looking a little flustered. "No. Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all."

Then his gaze shifted back to the something that was nothing. Alison looked over her shoulder again. Three women had just sat down at a table in the bar.

"Are you looking at those women?" she asked.

"Nope. Don't see anybody. Doesn't the chicken satay look good?"

"Yeah," Alison said warily, because David's eyes kept shifting from the goodlooking chicken to the women at the bar and back again.

"Are you sure you don't know those women?" she asked.

"Okay," he admitted. "I do. One of them is my ex-wife, Janet."

Alison's heart seized up. Well, crap. An ex-wife showing up was never good. Never.

Never.

"But don't worry," David said, putting an appetizer on his plate. "I have no feelings for her anymore. None at all."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely. I just know she's talking about me. That's all."

"How do you know that?"

"That woman to her left is Stacy Rankowsky. She's the reason we broke up in the first place. Filled my wife's head with all kinds of crap about how I was controlling and manipulative. She once called me a Neanderthal. Me! I'm telling you, Alison, I'm the most easygoing guy you'll ever meet." He took a bite of the chicken satay. "Oh. This is so good. You have to try it."

Alison picked up one of the appetizers and dipped it into the sauce. One bite told her he was right. These were heaven on a wooden skewer.

"So tell me, Alison. Have you lived in Plano long?"

"I grew up in Dallas and then moved here after college. I have a condo near the rail line, which is nice because-"

And then he was looking over her shoulder again.

"What's wrong?" Alison asked.

"This is no accident," he said, frowning. "She must have found out I was going to be here."

"How would she have found out?"

"My friend Derek must have told her."

"Why would he do that?"

"She probably wheedled it out of him."

"Uh...she's your ex. Why would she care?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions, Alison. Wouldn't you rather concentrate on what's going on between us?"

Well, yeah. Except she wasn't the one who had digressed in the first place.

For the next ten minutes, David made what looked like a concerted effort to put all his attention on Alison, but even when he wasn't looking at Janet, he was tapping his fingertips on the table as if he was nervous or pissed or both, his jaw looking as if it was set in granite. But that was only during the times when he wasn't smiling insincerely at Alison and swearing his ex meant nothing to him.

"Don't take this wrong, David," she said as he glanced over her shoulder for the sixtyfourth time. "But I think it's possible you still have feelings for Janet."

"Feelings? For her? No." He made a scoffing noise. "Not just no, but hell no." He smiled at Alison. "You're the one I'm interested in right now. Now, where were we?"

"We were talking about our jobs," Alison said. "I was telling you about this boss I used to have who-"

"Now they're laughing," David said. "Stacy looked over here, and then she said something to the rest of them, and they're laughing. And Janet is laughing more than the other two put together."

"But you're over her, remember? So does it really matter?"

He laughed nervously. "No. Of course not. Old habits, huh? So...tell me about your boss. I could tell that was going to be an interesting story."

He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand, giving her his undivided attention. So Alison launched into the story, which was another one of her staples on a first date because it really was funny and most guys laughed. But as she got to the most amusing part of all, she saw David's gaze drift over to the table full of women. He jerked it back, but then it drifted again.

"David? Would you like to meet up another night? You know-sometime when your exwife isn't sitting across the room?"

"Of course not! I told you. Past history. Water under the bridge."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Well, I am."

"How long has your divorce been final?"

"Five weeks."

Alison nearly choked. "Five weeks? And already you want to date other women?"

"Yes," he said, frowning. "Like I said, I am so over her. So why waste another minute of life? And life was hell with Janet, let me tell you. One time I stayed out all night drinking with my buddies, and when I got home, do you know what she'd done? She'd piled my Playboy collection on the patio and set fire to it!"

Stayed out all night? Playboy collection? Maybe she was on Janet's side on this one. "What nerve. Gee, maybe you were right to divorce her."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you! Divorce is too good for her!" He took a heavy gulp of wine. "I got her back, though," he said, revenge lighting his eyes. "I flushed her tropical fish down the toilet."

Okay. This was getting weird. Particularly since the fish flusher still couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the pyromaniac.

"Look at that," he said, coming to attention. "They're laughing again."

"I'm sure somebody just told a joke, or something."

"It's time I gave her a piece of my mind." He pushed his chair away from the table.

"Uh...David? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Should she really have to explain why not? Really?