offered to help me that I realized I had a shot at it.”
“Other than the part about the husband?”
“Yeah, other than that part. But once I’ve checked everything else off, I can focus on the final item.” Confidence puffed up with every vowel, an actor through and through.
“Any idea how you’re planning to find a husband?”
“I’m signing up for a dating service located in San Francisco. I finished creating the account before I went down to get coffee. Now I just need to upload a photo, fill in the questionnaire and profile, and I’m all set.”
“Show me.” He gestured at the laptop with the curiosity of an FBI agent.
“Okay.” I picked the laptop off the floor and brought it to the bed.
“The first questions look pretty easy.”
They were the standard questions, such as name, city, gender.
“What’s your ideal date?” Eli asked, reading the screen.
“I haven’t really thought about it. Other than when we went out to dinner, I haven’t gone on a date in years.”
“Right.” He studied me for a moment as if I were a hockey play he needed to memorize. Then he removed the laptop from my thighs and typed, his long, strong fingers flexing with each keystroke.
An unexpected emotion kicked at my heart as he read the question. Hurt? Disappointment? I had no idea why. He was helping me out. He was my friend, and that was what friends did.
That was what Amelia, Rachel, and Dani were doing. They were helping me find a husband.
So why did it feel wrong that Eli was doing the same?
I turned my back on the voice suggesting that maybe my feelings for him went deeper than friendship. That maybe I was falling for him.
What did it know anyway?
I read Eli’s reply to the question: Gourmet picnic in a park, followed by walking around to look at the flowers.
My mouth flopped open, and it took a second for me to recover from the shock. Beginner’s luck, I told myself.
I might have thought that, but my body had a different response. My pulse fluttered, my insides buzzed, and I suddenly felt like I could run a marathon. Twice.
“What makes you so sure that’s my idea of an ideal date?”
“Remember, I’m your male best friend. And best friends know everything about each other.”
Clearly, the time we’d spent together over the past ten days had paid off.
“Okay, but what about this question?” I pointed to the one that had asked me what my favorite rice dish was.
Weird question to ask on a dating site but whatever.
Eli had typed “fried rice.”
I lifted my chin, a prosecutor challenging the defense. “Maybe I like jambalaya more.”
“You like jambalaya, and that has nothing to do with members of your family living in New Orleans. But you love Chinese food, so it makes more sense for you to be a bigger fan of fried rice.”
“Damn, you’re good.”
He also answered the next question: What is your favorite ice cream?
Ghirardelli sundaes.
We both loved their sundaes.
“Favorite thing you like to do in your free time?” he asked.
“Making the dresses for the girls with special needs.”
“That doesn’t really count. They mean hobbies, taking your dog for a walk, stuff like that.”
“I don’t have a dog, and it’s tough to take Thistle for walks. But if I had a dog, I would write that down. Isn’t that right, Spot?” Spot perked his head up and gave a small woof as if that answered the question.
“Except you don’t have a dog, so you have to answer it honestly.”
“I don’t know. It’s not like I have a lot of free time. You like coloring books. Write that down for me.”
He laughed. “You don’t get to use my answer to fill in the questionnaire. You have to come up with your own.”
“I’m sure if I had the time, I’d be doing that. I’m a fashion designer. Part of my job involves sketching dresses and coloring them in.” With watercolors, but close enough. “And since I love doing that, it would make sense that I would enjoy coloring in coloring books during my free time—if I had any free time.”
He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“It’s true. Anyway, I don’t see the point to the question. It’s not like I would do it with my husband. They just want to know that you’re a well-rounded person.”
His eye roll would have impressed even the most sarcastic of teens. “How many kids would you like to have?”
I scanned the options and clicked on “2-5.”
“That’s kind of vague. There’s a huge