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“You’ve never been one for gossip. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Her heart gave a little jolt. “There’s more than one thing about me that you like?”

“Are you flirting with me?” He gave her a teasing smile that made her heart pump hard against her chest.

“I don’t know how to flirt. I was going to research it, but I’ve been too busy.”

“You can research flirting?”

“You can research anything. There’s probably even some online training you can do.”

“Flirting 101?” He kept his eyes on the track as he negotiated the uneven surface, but the smile on his face widened. “So if you weren’t flirting, that means it was a serious question. I’ll answer, but I should probably warn you I’m into high numbers so it could take a while.”

“You’re full of crap, Matt Walker.”

“I think you mean charm.”

“And does that charm usually work for you?”

“I guess we’re going to find out.” He shot her a glance and she saw the burn of heat in his eyes but she didn’t have time to analyze his words because moments later he was pulling up outside a cabin. “We’re here. This is Seagull’s Nest.”

The simple log cabin nestled on the cliff where the forest met the sea. It had its own private deck suspended above the beach and on a day like today when the sea was rough, the waves spattered spray across the broad planks.

Charmed, Frankie slid out of the passenger seat.

The cabin was idyllic but secluded. Until today, she’d assumed they’d be spending the night surrounded by other wedding guests. She’d pictured group celebrations, drinking and hilarity.

She hadn’t imagined anything like the intimacy of Seagull’s Nest.

“Do you have a key?”

“In the door.” Matt lowered the bags. “No one bothers much with keys around here, which comes as a bit of an adjustment to us New Yorkers.”

He pushed open the door and Frankie walked past him, his body brushing against hers.

Her insides were a tumble of sexual awareness and nerves, which was crazy because this was Matt. Why should she feel so nervous when she’d known him forever?

Except that this wasn’t the Matt she’d known. This Matt was new to her.

The cabin was simple but stylish, the perfect hideaway for a romantic weekend. The large bed had been made up with fresh linen, and a bunch of scented flowers had been placed in a vase by the bed. The window was open and the cabin was filled with the smells of summer and the faintly salty air.

It was charming. And romantic.

Which was lovely, except she didn’t do romantic. She was clueless, and pretty soon Matt was going to discover just how clueless. What was he expecting? She was pretty sure that the list of reasons he liked her was going to dwindle to low single figures once he discovered more about her. She’d tried warning him but either he hadn’t been listening or he’d assumed that she was exaggerating the problem.

Or maybe he was one of those men who thought he was such a sex god he’d be able to get past the problem.

Which simply increased the pressure.

She was going to be the first woman he didn’t manage to turn on. Like an old, rusty engine that no amount of love and care could restore to working order.

She longed to have a normal, healthy attitude toward relationships. She should be flirting and laughing with anticipation. Instead, she wanted to run into the forest and hide as she’d done as a child.

Losing her nerve, she backed toward the door. “This place is for lovers.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He slid his arm around her and hauled her back against him. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Everything was wrong with that.


Tags: Sarah Morgan From Manhattan with Love Romance