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If Madison James had to plan the perfect Monday night, she would be on the couch with a tequila sunrise in her hand, watching a romantic movie.

She would order Pad Thai from the local spot down the street, turn off her phone, and cuddle with her favorite pillow in her pajamas while someone met their soulmate on the screen.

This was not a perfect Monday night.

This night, as Shakira screamed in her ear that her hips didn’t lie, Maddie made her way through the dancing crowd to the bar, wishing her own hips were a little slimmer.

Then she wouldn’t be colliding with so many strange bodies.

It smelled of sunscreen, fruity drinks, and sweat – the unmistakable scent of every bar on the Santa Monica Pier – and Maddie wished she still had last week’s cold.

At least then her sense of smell wouldn’t be so keen.

Besides, she would have had an excuse for not coming.

“What are you doing here? You always say going to a bar during the week is a single person’s frustrated cry for help. Besides, only rich people and students can afford the luxury, since every other sensible person has to go to bed early.”

Yes, exactly because of those reasons. “Hey, Tara,” she said with a smile, nodding to the waitress who was squeezing in behind the bar. “Can I have a tequila sunrise and a new pair of eardrums? You guys have the music way too loud.”

Tara laughed and ducked behind the bar so that only her afro was visible for a few seconds. She reappeared with a cocktail glass in her hand. “Oh, Maddie. You’re twenty-eight but sound like my grandma.”

“Why, does she like drinking tequila sunrises, too?” Maddie retorted innocently.

Tara snorted. “No, but she likes to wreck the ceiling with her cane when the boys in the apartment above her turn up the volume too loud.”

Well, that wouldn’t happen to Maddie. She lived on the top floor. “Your grandmother sounds like a great person. I’d like to meet her,” she replied cheerfully.

“I’m sure you would. So, are you here just to complain about our music? Or are you searching for a Prince Charming for yourself for once, instead of for everyone else?”

God, no. She was so much better at matchmaking for other people. “I’m not here for love today. But hey, if you want to sign up with us…”

“No thanks.” Tara grimaced as she stuck an umbrella into Maddie’s tequila sunrise. “If I’m ever looking for more than a single night with no strings attached, I’ll let you know right away. But then if you're not looking for new clients, what are you doing here?”

“Meeting Lucy. Have you seen her?” She stood on her tiptoes and peered over the dancing crowd at the few tables along the wall.

“Oh, yeah.” Tara grinned broadly and wiggled her eyebrows. “She’s here with some built demigod.”

Maddie sighed inwardly. Of course she was. If Lucy’s life were a book, it would be one of Greek mythology. The number of demigods who came and went in her life – as well as her bed – was impressive.

“They’re sitting outside on the terrace, where your ears should get a break.”

Maybe a little one. “All right, thanks. Oh, another thing, there’s a beautiful bench outside your door, covered in green velvet…”

“We threw it out. It’s on the curb for pick up.”

Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. This evening was going to be good, after all! She loved old furniture with a history that she could refurbish. “No, it’s going in my hallway!”

Tara laughed and pushed the cocktail across the bar to her. “You’re surrounded by hot guys and women and you’re pining over a piece of deadwood.”

“A piece of deadwood covered in green velvet!”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, that changes everything. Anyway, feel free to take it with you, but it’s really heavy.”

“I’ll manage!” Lucy could help carry it in exchange for Maddie coming here tonight, ignoring her bed's calls. Then again, her little sister had started a new job today and her first day hadn’t gone smoothly.

At least, she had sounded angry on the phone.

The only reason Maddie was here now was because she was incapable of saying no to her family, no matter how small the request.

She paid for the cocktail and was about to make her way through the dancing crowd toward the patio when a dark-haired giant blocked her path.

“Hey, cutie,” he said, lifting the corner of his mouth, “Are you – ”

“— not interested?” she finished for him, smiling. “Yeah. How did you know?”

The guy blinked at her with his mouth gaping.

She wasn't going to wait around for a fly to land. She left him standing there and fought her way outside. She wasn’t going to meet the man of her dreams in a bar.

First, it was unromantic and, second, the men here weren’t interested in anything serious.

And that was all a man would get from her: forever and ever.

Nothing else. So far, she hadn’t communicated that clearly enough – at least, if her only ex-boyfriend was to be believed – and she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Her sister, on the other hand, was of a different mind.

Maddie stepped out onto the patio surrounded by palm trees and found Lucy within seconds. It wasn’t because of her red mane of hair, but rather because of the man sitting at the table with her.

Wow. Demigod was accurate. Or was Adonis a full god? Whatever. The man next to her sister had an angular Michelangelo jaw, broad Ken shoulders, blond surfer hair, and a devilish 100-watt smile that could surely melt panties. Figuratively speaking, that is.

He looked like one of those Santa Monica beach bums people stare at all day on Muscle Beach, those guys proudly showing off their eight-packs. General category: hot dude.

Great. So when Lucy had said she was going with a friend, she'd meant one of those friends. Couldn’t her sister have warned her?

Maddie had little desire to hang out with Lucy’s conquests.

She would be the third wheel while the two of them engaged in verbal foreplay, rubbing thighs together as if by accident.

Maddie sighed. Well, she was here now. Her watch indicated it was just after nine; she could stay just until ten thirty without being rude.

At least there were a few groups of women sitting nearby.

If Lucy and macho-man got hot and heavy, she could spend her time recruiting singles here for Match Me!

Her agency was just getting started and could use every client it could get.

“Oh, Maddie,” Lucy said, beaming and jumping up as her sister reached the table. “I didn’t expect you to actually show up!”

Huh, if Maddie had known she already had an out, she might not have come.

“Hey. You sounded upset on the phone and I didn’t want you to be alone.

” She hugged her sister briefly and eyed the strange blond, who seemed vaguely familiar, staring at her with his brown eyes. “But obviously, that’s not the case.”

“Yes, this is Matt. He owed me a drink, so I invited him, too,” Lucy said lightly, waving her hand in his direction. “Matt, this is Madison, my sister.”

“Hey, Madison,” the demigod replied with a wry smile, his voice dark and calm as he stood and offered her his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Maddie’s stomach lurched as he wrapped his big, warm fingers around hers. Her gaze fell on his sinewy forearms. Oh, god, he was a hot dummy with manners – the most dangerous kind of man.

You had to hand it to Lucy: her taste was impeccable, as long as it was just a matter of a few hot weeks with someone, which was not Maddie's MO. She cleared her throat and hastily let go of his hand. “It's Maddie. Everyone calls me Maddie. Nice to meet you, too.”

“What about you, do your friends call you Matty?” Lucy asked with a grin, pulling a chair over for Maddie. “Then I’d be out with Maddie and Matty today.”

Matt frowned and rubbed his stubbly chin. “Shit, no. No one but my sisters ever calls me Matty.”

“So, you won’t make an exception for me?” Lucy asked, playing up her coy agitation by putting a hand on her chest.

“Nope.”

Maddie forced a smile. The verbal foreplay had already begun. “Where did you two meet?”

“At work,” Lucy replied.

Maddie widened her eyes. “Oh.” Her sister actually had strict rules about separating work from pleasure. “So, you two are…”

“Ugh, no!” her sister said, horrified. “He’s on the team, Maddie. You know how I feel about that.”

Confused, Maddie blinked as she studied the blond man, and then realized why he looked familiar.

Of course: He was Matthew Payne, a winger for the L.A.

Hawks pro hockey team. She almost hadn't recognized him without the helmet.

“So, you're just here as friends,” she said with relief, immediately relaxing.

That would make the evening more pleasant.

“Of course!” Still shocked, Lucy looked at her. “I would never get involved with this ice twerp.”

“Thanks, put a little more disgust in your voice,” Matt replied dryly and took a sip of beer.

Maddie laughed at his sullen expression. “Don’t take it personally, Matt. Lucy has this rule: She doesn’t get involved with hockey players.”

“Oh, that’s going to break some hearts,” he said with a sigh. “But I get it. I might as well warn them.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

Maddie had to ask him with a broad smile, “So? Are you included in the heartbreaks?”

“Nah.” He gave her a mischievous grin, leaned forward, and whispered, “I prefer brunettes.”

Heat rose in Maddie’s cheeks as she hastily pushed her brown hair behind her ears. “Wow,” she managed to reply. “Was that line on sale, or why does it sound so cheap?”

Lucy laughed and, to her surprise, Matt did too.

“So much for practicing in front of the mirror,” he said, feigning distress, and then tapped her playfully on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but you need more practice, not less,” she replied apologetically, ignoring the goosebumps that spread from his index finger across her back, where he was touching bare skin.