Page 9 of The Matchmaker Club

“You named meMr. Intensity?”

“You put brooding vampires to shame with that stare of yours.”

“I don’t brood.”

I snorted out a laugh. “You couldn’t be more brooding if Charlotte Brontë wrote you herself.”

He cocked his head. “I would think I’m more akin to Mr. Darcy than Edward Rochester.”

“More like Beast than Darcy.”

“And are you Beauty?” He turned to look at me, his brown eyes almost black, as if ready to penetrate my skull to see what thoughts lurked inside.

My heart nearly came up my throat.

I turned away and shifted in my seat. “We should head to the house now. It’s the first driveway on your left, after that big oak tree.”

He started the car, but I didn’t dare look his way again. The silence was as thick and heavy as his eyes, and I couldn’t wait to get out.

“So, where’s your lawyer friend, Jack?” I asked. “Didn’t you have to go house hunting or something?”

“Back at the motel a few towns over. We had a change of plans.” He parked the car near the porch, and I hopped out. I sprinted to the front door, Mr. Intensity right behind me.

“Your name?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Lucas.”

“Hmm.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. I’m not sure of the meaning, but somehow I feel the name suits you.”

“It means light.”

“Oh. So much for name meanings.”

That kind-of smile returned.

I opened the front door and was met with the buzzing sound of a chainsaw reverberating through the house.

“Is that… a chainsaw?” Lucas asked.

I rubbed at my forehead. “Yeah. My aunt, Lainey. She’s been taking some woodworking classes online.” I tossed my keys into the distorted bowl sitting on the table next to the door. “She usually works outside, but when it’s raining, she kidnaps the basement.”

He walked across the threshold, his eyes scanning the foyer and focusing on Lainey’s attempts at pottery which decorated the floor and tables. “Why do you have a dead flower in a vase?”

“It’s not a flower vase. It’s a statement.”

“Meaning?”

I let out a sigh. “Lainey thinks the flower industry is cruel. She thinks flowers are meant to be living in soil and not in a vase where they live a few days and die.”

He nodded. “Your aunt has a point.”

“Taylor? Is that you?” my grandmother yelled from the kitchen.

“Yup, and I have a guest, so please make sure you’re fully dressed.”