The Sweetest Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) Read Online Free PDF Page B

very much almost-in-love. The whole watching the sunrise thing. Claire’s pensive stares and quiet on the flight home could be from falling in love. Right? Claire should have at the very least been talking about plans and adjusting them. Calendars and lists were the girl’s life.
    Routine. The expected. Why, again, had they flown instead of driving a rental car? Why spend the money on leaving the rental behind and booking last-minute tickets? Maybe love had scared her a bit. Maybe ... ugh, she had no idea.
    One other glaring detail nagged, too. Millie still sported all seven gold bangles—proof that her life sentence was still in full tilt. If Claire were in love, Millie would finally be one bangle short.
    If Claire wasn’t yet in love, what went wrong at the wedding? Besides Millie’s botched love potion.
    Hey, it was her first love potion. Who could blame her for a sour mix? Claire hardly drank two sips of it. Seeing the late-night cuddle in the park, Claire and Tyler clearly hadn’t needed the potion to finally fall in love. It must be the plans thing. Claire was very married to her goal chart.
    Millie waggled her booted foot to the beat of the lively version of the second-floor pianist’s “I’m in the Mood for Love.” If a wedding and a love potion weren’t enough to cement this match, what would?
    With a sidelong glance at the tweens, Millie tossed caution aside. She put the spare boot to her face, shut her eyes, and buried her nose in the delectable scent of leather. Ahhh. Leather. In a snap, every part of her remembered who she used to be—Kiki Kent, the socialite and celebrity. The world was always on its knees for her smile.
    “I suspected I’d find you here.”
    The world got off its knees. Millie eased one eye open, keeping the boot to her face. AJ. Dark, sexy eyebrow quirked a bit higher than normal.
    “Is it everything you dreamed of, and more?” he asked, glancing at the boot.
    Millie narrowed her eyes and lowered the boot a few inches. Her seven gold bangles, aka heaven’s handcuffs, jingled a reminder—suck it up. This life sentence wasn’t going to see parole until she learned how to matchmake. She shrugged, gripping the boot tighter.
    “Meh. I’ve smelled better.” Totally untrue. This boot was by far the yummiest. But then when you’re born into Italian leather boots, full-faced sniffing never occurs to you, so memory might not be serving her well. “What’s up?”
    He gave her that knowing smile—the one that bunched and tangled her nerves into a wad. The tweens were gaping at him, and when he asked if he could join them, they nearly had a Beatles moment. Er, a Beiber moment. Within seconds, the tweens giggled off, leaving her and AJ nearly alone. Millie almost waved the tweens back over. Darn it. So much for shoe-bonding.
    AJ dug a file out of his distressed suede messenger bag, an eBay score she’d found this past Valentine’s Day, the one-year anniversary of her matchmaking sentence. One year, and now eight more months, Millie still hadn’t made a match. AJ had made four. Oh, she’d had plenty of chances. Four. Just like AJ.
He waved a file between them and searched her eyes. “We’ve been reassigned.”
“What? Why? Are you done already?”
He winced. “For a few weeks now.”
    Millie gasped. Why didn’t he tell her his latest match was complete? Gah. She knew why. To avoid adding any pressure. Too late. “But, I’m not done.”
Again, that slight wince.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? But I’m this close. They can’t reassign us. Not yet.”
AJ shook his head. “I wish you’d brought me with you to the wedding.”
    Millie hugged the boot to her chest, folding her arms. “I couldn’t. I barely got Claire and myself invited. It wasn’t like I could sneak you in the back door, AJ.”
    He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s too late now. What’s done is done.”
    “No way. What’s done is almost a match. I swear it. I was just about to come up with a