hours.”
“True, but it’s for a good cause,” Emma said. “And the sooner you meet him, the sooner you’ll know whether he’s a fit.”
“Fine,” Ariana said. “I’ll text him.” She picked up her cellphone, praying Dillon would text her before she committed to a date with a complete stranger.
Dillon didn’t call or text before she sent a text to—she looked at the profile—Jared Hill.
Would you like to meet tomorrow in Hellfire at the firefighter fundraiser?
She prayed he’d be busy and not respond until after Dillon called that night. If he called.
Her cellphone vibrated with a text message.
“Is it him?” Emma asked, leaning closer.
With a frown puckering her brow, she looked down at the message from Jared.
Yes. What time and where?
Her heart pounded in her chest. Now, she had a date with a man she didn’t know while she was sure she was falling in love with one who wasn’t her match.
Why had Dillon decided she should meet her match?
“Here, let me answer him.” Emma keyed in a location and time and sent the text. “There you go. You’re all set for tomorrow. How exciting!”
Ariana couldn’t dredge up an excited bone in her entire body. “I guess I’d better get home and do the laundry, so I’ll have something to wear.” She rose from the table, looped her purse over her shoulder and gave all the ladies a hug before exiting the room. All the way down the elevator to the garage level, she regretted her decision to let BODS choose another match for her. She didn’t want another match. If she couldn’t be with Dillon, she’d rather be alone.
Now, she was stuck with a date for a day in Hellfire.
To end a perfectly awful day, Dillon didn’t call her that night.
Chapter 12
Dillon parked his truck in a space in a field directed by volunteers in bright yellow vests. He’d worked late the night before and hadn’t gone to bed until well after midnight. Too late to call Ariana, even if she’d wanted to talk to him. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t feel much like talking anyway.
Mid-afternoon the day before, Emma had called to say Ariana had opted to meet her BODS match. Dillon had felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. When Emma had pushed again for him to meet his, he’d told her, “whatever.” And “whatever” to Emma meant she could do what she wanted. And she wanted him to meet his BODS match.
“Just in case she’s the woman of your dreams,” Emma had said in a gratingly cheerful tone.
“Whatever,” he’d repeated, not in the mood to talk to his sister, or anyone else for that matter.
The woman haunting his dreams was a petite little redhead who’d never ridden a horse or successfully landed a fish.
Later that afternoon, Emma had called him back. “Her name is Melanie Armstrong. She’s five-feet-nine, brunette with brown eyes. Loves the outdoors, rides horses, runs marathons and is a personal trainer.”
Great. She’d run circles around him and want him to run with her. He jogged, but not any farther than a couple of miles at a time. He didn’t have the time to dedicate to run marathons.
“Oh, and I set it up that you two will meet at the Hellfire firefighter fundraiser. That way you don’t have to worry about coming up with private conversations. You can just go enjoy the day and get to know each other in a casual environment.”
“I’m thrilled,” he responded.
Emma laughed. “You should be. She’s ticks off every preference you listed.”
“Damned list,” he muttered.
“What was that you said?” Emma asked.
“Nothing. What time are we meeting?”
“In the parking lot at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” Emma said. “And Ariana will be there with her date. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind?” Dillon barked. “She can go wherever the hell she likes.”
“I thought maybe you two were getting thick,” Emma said. “Though that doesn’t make sense at all. You two weren’t meant to match. You have nothing in common.”
“Yeah. So you say.”
“Do you doubt BODS?” Emma asked.
“I never completely bought into the idea that a computer program could pick a mate for me.”
“You’ll be pleasantly surprised tomorrow. I’m sure,” Emma replied.
“Yeah. Gotta go. The plumbing just exploded somewhere.”
“God, I hope not,” Emma had said. “See you tomorrow.”
So, here it was ten o’clock on Saturday, and he was going to meet a woman he had no desire to meet when he’d rather be with a woman who was meeting a man Dillon didn’t know but wanted to