"How do you feel when you're around him?"

"What do you mean?"

"You told me once that people want to be wrapped up in soft, fuzzy little strings from their heart to their soul mate's heart. Is that what it feels like?"

Alison turned away and zipped up her suitcase. "Yeah. That's what it feels like."

"You're lying."

She whipped back around. "What?"

"I'm a pretty good matchmaker when it comes to other people. But when it comes to you? I can't get it right. I've never gotten it right. What makes you think I got it right with Justin?"

"Don't sell yourself short. You did get it right. Justin and I are meant for each other."

Brandon took a couple of steps forward. "Okay, then. Imagine this. Imagine Christmas morning. Imagine opening your gift from Justin. It's a vacuum cleaner. Every attachment there is. Top of the line. And Justin has the documentation to prove it, which he'll be happy to recite to you."

"What's wrong with that?" she said. "It's practical. I like practical."

"And then it'll be a washing machine on your birthday, and a DustBuster on Valentine's day."

"At least he'll buy me gifts. That's more than some women can say about their husbands."

"How does he feel about your cats?"

She paused, suddenly feeling a little shaky. "He's okay with them."

"Okay?"

"He'll learn to love them."

"Hmm. Let's recap here. You're getting serious about a man who wears sweater vests, hates your cats, and gives you appliances on special occasions."

"If he's so awful, why did you set me up with him?"

"Because he's what you said you wanted. The trouble is, what you want isn't good for you."

"But he is good for me," Alison said, even shakier now.

"Are you in love with him?"

She turned away, hoping he didn't see the answer on her face. She wanted to get all huffy and tell him it was none of his business, but since she'd been asking herself that same question, huffiness was hard to come by.

"I think I need a little more time for that," she said. "But it's coming. I know it is. We're going away this weekend. I'm sure after that-"

"How about a little excitement? A little passion? Don't you want those things?"

"I did when I was twenty and ignorant. I know better now. Love isn't going to strike me like a thunderbolt out of the blue. That's unrealistic."

"So you're giving up?"

"Giving up? I'm not giving up anything. For once in my life, I'm finally getting something."

"Yeah. Maybe. But not half as much as you deserve."

Alison narrowed her eyes. "Why are you doing this? Justin and I have been dating for weeks. Why are you suddenly showing up and telling me all this now?"

"Because Heather told me you're going away for the weekend with him. That ups the ante. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized what a mistake I'd made. What a mistake you're making. You're just not right for each other."

Just then the doorbell rang. Alison turned around to look at the door. Her future was on the other side of it. Or, at least, she was pretty sure it was.

Wasn't it?

Yes, damn it, it was. And Brandon had no right to characterize it any other way.

"That's Justin," she said. "He's here to pick me up."

"Don't do it, Alison," Brandon said. "If you stay with him, you'll be miserable for the rest of your life, and it'll be my fault for setting you up with him."

She lowered her voice. "You know what? You're right. Justin isn't the most exciting man in the world. But I'm tired, you know? Tired of searching. Tired of hoping. Tired of life passing me by. Tired of watching good things happen to everyone else while nothing good ever happens to me. Justin is giving me ninety percent of what I'm looking for. If I wait for the other ten, I'll be alone for the rest of my life. So don't screw this up for me!"

With that, she went to the door and opened it. Justin stepped inside, and Alison gave him a kiss. She didn't get carried away with it, but it was more than just a peck on the lips. Then Justin turned and spotted Brandon.

"Brandon! Hey, how are you?"

"Good. I'm good. So...you two are heading down to San Antonio, I hear."

"Yeah. Making a weekend of it."

Silence.

"Uh...Brandon just dropped by to give me a key to his house for the home tour," Alison said.

"Yeah," Brandon said. "And I need to be going now. You two have a good time."

As Justin went over to grab Alison's suitcase, Brandon looked at her one last time before walking out the door. His expression said it all: he's not the man for you, and he never will be.

Alison closed the door behind him and stood there a moment, wishing Brandon had never shown up, never said all those things that only added to her own uncertainty.

"Alison?" Justin said. "Is something wrong?"

She turned around and managed a smile. "No. Of course not."

"You look a little sick. There's flu going around, you know. Did you get your flu shot?"

Preventive health measures. One of Justin's favorite topics. "Yeah. I got my flu shot."

"At least two weeks ago? It takes that long for the vaccine to take effect."

"To tell you the truth, Justin, I really don't remember. Does it change our plans for the weekend?"

He paused. Actually paused. "Well, no. I guess not. Unless you really are sick."

"I never said anything about being sick. You did."

Justin blinked. "Okay, then. Let's get on the road. I'd like to get there as soon after sunset as possible. These glasses don't have antireflective coating, and the glare of headlights gives me a headache."

As he grabbed her suitcase, Alison pictured five hours in the car with him. If that was painful, what would a lifetime be like?

It's Brandon's fault. He's put all this crap in your head. Ignore it and go.

Just go.

Two hours later, Brandon sat alone in his living room with Jasmine purring on his lap, watching dumb things on TV he couldn't have cared less about and picturing Justin with Alison. And it made him feel as if he wanted to hit something.

He'd really blown it this afternoon.

He shouldn't have done it. He should have just left well enough alone instead of barging into Alison's condo and telling her what she was supposed to think and how she was supposed to feel. It wasn't his business. It wasn't Heather's either. The only thing that mattered was what Alison thought and felt, and she was fine with Justin.

But now...what if she dumped the guy because of what he'd said? Because truthfully, it was a dating jungle out there, and her luck up to now had been terrible. What if she broke up with Justin, and then she never met a man who was even half as good?

He'd be responsible for that.

Good Lord. He couldn't win.

He hated that Tom was gone tonight. He'd finally talked Tracy into going out with him, so he definitely wouldn't be home until dawn. On this night, when Brandon really could have used some kind of distraction, he was sitting there in that big old house by himself with nothing but bad TV, an intrusive Siamese cat, and his own irritating thoughts for company.

Then heard a knock. A very loud, very insistent knock.

He scooted Jasmine from his lap and went to the door. He looked out the peephole, and suddenly he felt a little breathless.

Alison? She was here?

Yeah, she was. But, boy, did she look pissed.

He opened the door, and she blew into the house like the Hurricane Alison of old. She spun around. "Well, Brandon. It looks as if you've blown it again."

"Huh?"

"I know, I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're sick and tired of me telling you that you screwed up. But to be fair, this time you admitted it first."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were right. Justin's a bore. What were you thinking when you set me up with him? At this rate, I'm going to be a hundred and twelve before I finally get married!"

"Wait a minute. I don't get this."

"What's not to get? I broke up with him."

"You did?"

"Yes. What else could I do?"

"Hold on. Didn't you tell me-"

"We were about an hour down the road, and he started talking about how the beds at the hotel had Posturepedic mattresses and hypoallergenic linens. And I thought, hot damn, I'll wake up with a spine in perfect alignment and not a sneeze in sight. But will he throw me on that Posturepedic bed and ravish me? Not likely."

Brandon just stood there in disbelief. Was this the woman who had defended Justin not two hours ago?

"And he made sure I knew the hotel has no bedbugs," she went on. "And how did he know that? Because he went to bedbugregistry dot com and checked it out."

Brandon winced. "There's an actual bedbug registry?"

"Yes, but only incredibly anal people know about it. And is it romantic to talk about it? No, it is not. And get this. We pulled into a truck stop for gas. There was a rack with bumper stickers. I pointed at one and laughed. Keep honking. I'm reloading. He didn't get it. He lives in Texas, where guns outnumber people, and he didn't get it. You set me up with a man with zero sense of humor. Why did you do that?"

"But I tried to tell you-"

"So I guess you'd better find me another match. And this time, could you at least try to get it right?"

"I have been trying! But for some reason-"

"You call that trying? I mean, it's not as if Justin is a felon like Greg, but-oh, wait. Yes, he is. He committed third-degree boredom."

"Alison-"

She held up her palm. "Is it really that hard?" she said, her voice softer now. "Really?"

Brandon lifted his shoulders helplessly.

"After all, I think I've shown you quite clearly what I want."

"I know, but-"

"Sometimes I think the right man could be standing right in front of me," she said, her voice strangely quiet now, "and you'd never even know it."

"Come on, now. That's not fair. I've been really good at this with other clients. Just because I can't seem to get it right with you doesn't mean-"

Oh.

From one second to the next, it was as if the whole thing with Justin fell into the background, and the world tunneled down to just the two of them staring at each other. Alison swallowed hard, and the anger he thought he'd seen in her eyes gave way to what was really beneath it. Hope. Vulnerability.

Desire.

The grandfather clock ticked rhythmically in the hall, which was the only sound Brandon heard except for the blood pulsing through his ears. He took another step toward her, feeling every beat of his heart like a jackhammer pounding his chest. When he drew closer still, she turned away, resting her hand on the back of the sofa, refusing to meet his eyes. She was probably afraid of what she'd see there if she looked. And could he really blame her for that?

"This is your last chance to find me the right man, Brandon," she said softly, her eyes drifting closed. "Please get it right this time. Please."

He inched up behind her and slid his arm around her, splaying his hand beneath her breasts, and pulled her gently to him. He heard her soft intake of breath, and when he pushed her hair aside with his other hand and touched his lips to her neck, the tiny gasp became a sigh. Then he turned his head and whispered in her ear.