Free Breaking the Bachelor (Entangled Lovestruck) (Smart Cupid) by Maggie Kelley Page A

“The subcortical structure central to the limbic system. The emotional circuit center of the brain.”
    He stared at her and said nothing for a full minute. “Why do you know this stuff?”
    “I’m in the business of emotions. Did you think I had a box of matchmaking tips under my bed? Some kind of starter kit?” Jane worked her way back to the wings and fries. “Love is a serious business. New York is full of brokenhearted people with crushed amygdalae,” she continued. “People whose steamrolled limbic systems suffer like beaten-up cartoon piñatas.” She lowered her voice and shot a look toward the back of the bar. “And I am not about to let Summer become one of them all because of your fascination with chemistry.”
    “I’m not about to do anything with Summer’s limbic system…not unless she asks me to.”
    The muscles in her jaw worked, an obvious indication that he’d moved under her skin. “Listen, if you want a match to stick, you need to offer up some romance. Not just chemistry and bendy gymnastic tricks.” She emptied half the ketchup bottle onto the basket of fries, sorted them by salt coverage, and shoved a few into her mouth. “In your Casanova days, you would’ve known that instinctively. Like a baby mobster knows about a shake down.”
    “What are you talking about? You love hockey.” Charlie motioned toward the television. “Besides, as far as women and romance go, I don’t remember any complaints.” He leaned in extra-close. “Certainly not tonight.”
    She shoveled in a few more fries. “Seriously, what happened to your amygdala?”
    Charlie swirled a piece of her celery into the ranch—not bleu cheese—that she preferred. “Some woman wrapped it up for me in a cocktail napkin.”
    Her eyes flashed with an emotion that looked a hell of a lot like guilt. Or jealousy. Or just sheer pissed-offed-ness. “You cannot hold me responsible for the defunct nuclei in your temporal lobes. Because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t fully functional long before me. We could go through the phone book and catch up on a few of your former flames—”
    He leaned over the bar to grab his cell phone. “Only if you really want to.”
    She groaned and waved a hand at the game on the television. “You can’t just offer up hot wings, hockey, and incredible sex to a perfect ninety-six match, along with a ‘let’s have some fun,’ attitude! No woman—no matter how sweet or double-jointed—wants to date Fanatical Sports Guy, the guy every dating manual says to steer clear of unless she wants to end up living in her in-law’s basement.”
    He pocketed his phone and turned his attention to the game. “Janey, give me a break here. The Rangers are looking at the playoffs.”
    “And I’m looking at a guy with a damaged amygdala, that’s all I’m saying.”
    He shifted closer, a smile edging across his face. “Nothing’s wrong with my amygdala, angel, and I’m not a Fanatical Sports Guy. I just like sports. All. Kinds. Of. Sports.” He raised his eyebrows and let his implication brew in her overactive imagination before turning his attention back to the game, only half watching, the other half of him still plotting a coup d’état of chemistry over logic. “Holy Mother of Christ, did you see that hit?” He looked back at Janey who, for the first time since she’d swayed back into his life, looked uncertain.
    “Where’s Summer?” Her hushed words called his bluff.
    He grinned back because he’d been expecting the question. “Nice girl, but I called her a taxi about an hour ago.”
    She grabbed a hold of his collar and gave it a little tug. “So this was a setup?”
    “You’re the one who was snooping.”
    “Did you play nine ball?”
    “No.” He leaned in close, until his mouth hovered mere inches away from hers.
    “Did you kiss her?”
    “No.” He smiled down at her. “Right now, the only woman I want to kiss is you.”

Chapter Eight
    @smartCupid Ending a successful first