Wrong Place, Right Time - Elle Casey Page 0,40

the top of the chair. “Yeah, it’s handicap humor. My son is an expert.”

That strikes me as both really wrong and totally not PC. But I can’t imagine Dev is the kind of parent to joke about handicapped people with his young, impressionable son. “Is it some kind of stage he’s going through?”

“You could say that.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t want to ask any more questions about it. I don’t want him to think I’m judging his parenting, even though at this point I’m finding it a little weird.

I turn my attention back to the computer where I’m entering the search criteria to try to find Dev’s profile.

“It’s not like I put my real name on there as my username,” he says. “Like you said, there are over a million users of the site. You’re never gonna find me.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I say. “All I have to do is describe you, and it should bring up your profile in the results.”

“You think you know me that well already?” He’s definitely throwing out a challenge.

“We’ll see.” I smile as I click away.

CHAPTER TWELVE

My fingers hover over the keyboard.

“Let’s see . . . if I wanted to hook up with a guy like Dev, what characteristics would I be looking for?” It feels safe to say this, like I’m a hypothetical girl scoping him out, not myself. It’s stealth flirting. I’m totally a black heron, tricking my prey into thinking it’s nighttime with my wings spread open above the water, convincing the little fishies that it’s safe to come out and play. Gotcha, little minnow!

“Be careful, girl.”

I forge on, heedless of Dev’s warning. I think it’s actually spurring me on. “First of all, I have to select the correct age. I’m going to go ahead and select . . . between thirty-five and forty.” My fingers hesitate for only a moment before clicking the box. I’m pretty sure that’s what he said to me in the panic room.

“You’re a man. That’s easy. And I assume you are looking for a woman?” I look at Dev for confirmation. All he does is shrug, but that dimple appearing on his cheek tells me that I am right once again.

“Let’s see . . . you are a non-smoker.” I click another button. “And I would say that you are very athletic.” Another click. “And you believe in a healthy lifestyle, so you’re probably just a moderate drinker.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

I laugh. “Oh, I’ve only just begun, believe me.” I pause to peruse my options. “Aaaand moving on . . . let’s see. Hobbies . . .” There are several for me to choose from, and even though we’ve just met, I can already see several that apply. I click in rapid succession. “Sports. Weightlifting. Exercise. Martial arts.”

“Martial arts? Why did you choose that?”

I turn and look at him so he can see me roll my eyes. “It would’ve been really difficult for me to miss all fifty of those ninja swords in that room, don’t ya think?”

“Who says they’re mine? It’s Ozzie’s place.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t strike me as the sword type. Besides, my sister said something about you being a ninja guy once, so I figured they had to be yours.”

“Points for having excellent powers of observation.”

I get a little giddy with pride as I turn back to the computer. “Exactly.” I wiggle my mouse to wake it up. “Okay, so where was I? Yes, I’m about to narrow down my choices even further.” I click a few more boxes. “Family-oriented. Prefers smaller group activities to large crowds.” That one I’m not so sure about, but I don’t want him to know that I’m not confident, so I just keep going.

“Not into religious activities, enjoys other people’s cooking but doesn’t cook, does not have one favorite type of food.” Click, click, click. I turn my head to look at him. “How am I doing so far?”

He shrugs. “We’ll see.”

He doesn’t sound nearly as sassy as he did before, so I must be on the right track. There are a few more choices left, and I consider them carefully. I have engineered sites with huge data sets before, so I know how search results are tallied and collected. This system doesn’t look too complicated. It’s just a matter of me getting close enough, and the right combination of correct inputs will bring up the results I’m looking for.

“Seeking . . .” Now’s my chance to describe the woman who I think Dev is

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