Free Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2 by Lisa Ricard Claro

friends-with-bennies kind of thing. Like the movie, you know? No ties, no hassle, no--” She gestured to the area around them with her arms. “--no messy scenes in a public place.” She leaned forward, grabbed Sean’s silk tie and pulled him toward her until their noses were an inch apart. “Most bachelors in their thirties would love that, wouldn’t they? I think it makes me the perfect girlfriend, don’t you?”
    Sean’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips curved upward in an amused grin. “I’d be a fool to disagree.”
    She set him free and settled back in her seat before it struck her that he hadn’t answered the question.
    Jonathan came by and Sean ordered cappuccinos for himself and Rebecca, a chocolate cannoli, and tiramisu as well, because he couldn’t decide which dessert he wanted and Rebecca, who agreed to share, had no preference. When Jonathan bustled out of earshot she leaned forward. “So, what’s your deal, Sean?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well, with the exception of last night, whenever we have those big family get-togethers you always bring a date with you. And I don’t mean to be catty, but while you choose women with bodies to die for, none of them have much in the way of a personality. This is a conundrum to me. What’s your reasoning?”
    Sean tapped his fingertips on the tabletop. Rebecca imagined the wheels turning inside that handsome head of his, wondered if he debated with himself about what and how much to say, or if he was just looking for an easy way out.
     
    ***
     
    How to answer the question without making himself look like a shallow asshole? There was no way. Denying Rebecca’s assessment would be a lie, but the truth was too personal, so much so that he had never discussed it with anyone except his priest--and then only because he was Catholic enough to feel guilty as hell--much less a tipsy Rebecca Walker over an impromptu dessert.
    He chose his words with care, sticking to the edges of the truth and knowing that he’d sound like an asshole anyway.
    “I’m thirty-five and career driven with no interest in a relationship that ties up my time and energy. A wife and children are not in the cards for me. Ever. As in never, ever. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the benefits of a healthy adult relationship. I do, but I limit it to women who don’t want any more out of it than I do.”
    “Women like Cynthia, from the Fourth of July last year.”
    “Yes,” Sean nodded. “Cynthia is a perfect example. She’s a beautiful and brilliant corporate attorney, but not much of a people person. She’s a hard-ass and not well-liked by most, but she’s comfortable in her own skin and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. I like that about her. I also like that for the duration of our arrangement she didn’t cling, didn’t complain when I canceled plans, and was happy to take up space at family functions when I needed a date to prevent my mother from fixing me up with God-knows-who.” Sean flashed a wry smile. “The last guy my mother played matchmaker for is about to get hitched.”
    Rebecca laughed. “You mean Caleb. My mom aided and abetted that Fourth of July matchmaking scheme. So, what kind of arrangement?”
    “What?”
    “You didn’t say you were in a relationship with Cynthia. You used the word ‘arrangement.’ What did you mean exactly?” Rebecca rested her arms on the table and leaned in, her eyes homed in on Sean’s in a laser stare. “C’mon, handsome. Dish.”
    Well, shit . He hadn’t meant to use that terminology-- arrangement --although it was accurate, and damn her for being discerning enough to strip it down to that. Sean shifted in the booth, uncomfortable. They were talking about Rebecca and Nate, weren’t they? How had she turned the tables on him? And did she have any idea that, in this light, her eyes were the color of Ireland, or that a single spiraling curl, bright as burnished copper, had escaped the clippy thing and