would be a lie. What could a few dates hurt? “Fine.”
“I’ll email you the day and time, though I’d appreciate if you suggested a restaurant since I’m not familiar with the area. Something expensive but understated.”
“Jean Claude’s.”
“I’ll take care of the reservations.”
He didn’t like this painfully cold woman on the other end of the line. If she kept up this matchmaking business, eventually she was going to… He paused. Going to what? Leave and head back to New York? What else would she do? He might be attracted to her, but that didn’t mean he wanted her as a permanent fixture in his life. Caine cleared his throat. “Do I get a chance to look at this woman and the ones that come after her? Or do I not have a say?”
“If you remember correctly—and you should since it was two days ago—you told me you don’t have any preferences beyond her being beautiful. I can assure you that anyone I bring down here will be beautiful.”
He shoved any thoughts of Addison out of his head. The least he could do was actually go on the dates. It didn’t mean that he was going to marry whomever she paraded in front of him, and not cooperating meant she would eventually get fed up and leave. He wasn’t ready to see her walk out of his life just yet. “I’ll make sure to clear my calendar.”
“Good.”
“Good.” He hung up, hating the feeling in his chest. It was like a toothache, but there was no definitive source. It didn’t matter. He had too much work to do to worry about whatever Addison was getting up to in his house without him.
Or how empty it would be when she finished her mission and left.
Chapter Six
Addison set the phone down and tried not to notice how much her hands shook. She’d gone out of her way to avoid Caine since their kiss in the foyer, but apparently two days wasn’t enough to dampen the memory. Which meant she needed to get her first candidate down here sooner, rather than later.
Because it had been difficult not to search him out last night. Especially when she’d accidentally-on-purpose picked a room to do her work in that overlooked the massive driveway. When his headlights had cut through the darkness, her traitorous heart actually skipped a beat. She’d had a white-knuckle grip on her papers as she’d listened to his footsteps echo over the tiled floors. Part of her had wanted him to search her out, and she’d wanted that desperately.
But he’d given her space, or whatever he’d been trying to accomplish. It should have filled her with relief that she wasn’t going to spend any more time than necessary in his unnerving presence, but the emotion clogging the back of her throat wasn’t relief.
It was disappointment.
“Damn it.” She paced a quick circle around the room and dropped back into the love seat where she’d set up her command central. “Focus on the match. The sooner you get him set up with someone else, the sooner you can go home.”
Home to her empty apartment and half-dead fern. She used to love her cozy little loft in the East Village. It was something she and Aiden had always planned on when they were in high school—a loft in the colorful part of the city where there was always something going on at any hour of the day. The perfect place to live life to the fullest and try new experiences. They were going to have countless adventures. The kinds they told their grandchildren about.
But there were no grandchildren. No children . No adventures. The ink on their home contract had barely dried when Aiden was gunned down in combat in Afghanistan, leaving her a twenty-one-year-old widow. She hadn’t had a chance to truly start living before it was all taken away.
Addison sighed. Life could be cruel sometimes. She’d moved on, and thrown herself into helping people find the one thing she’d never have again. Gollum must have sensed her spiraling mood, because the dog trotted over and laid her head on Addison’s lap. She absently