“What are you talking about?” Had I accidentally uploaded the wrong picture? Maybe someone had hacked my account and said I was into ritual sacrifice and attending spelling bees.
“It can’t be that bad,” Naomi insisted. Lina turned the screen in her direction, and my friend winced. “Okay. She’s definitely self-sabotaging.”
“What exactly is so wrong with my profile?” I demanded, struggling with the dead weight of the snoring basset hound.
“Let’s ask the experts,” Lina suggested.
“Don’t you dare!”
But it was too late. The men, who had obviously been eavesdropping again, appeared in the doorway.
“Someone say experts?” Nash asked with a charming grin.
Lina held up my phone. “Tell me why you wouldn’t click on this profile.”
The Morgans leaned in and then out again in unison.
“Jesus, Sloaney. What are you trying to do, repel dicks?” Knox said.
I withered in embarrassment as Lucian glanced at the screen. Unlike his friends, he didn’t flinch. He smirked.
“What’s the first problem?” Lina asked as if she were instructing a class.
“Cat,” the brothers said together.
“Wait. What about the cat? Cats are cute,” I argued.
“A cat in the profile picture says crazy cat lady,” Nash explained.
“And cat in the username screams it,” Knox added, stroking his beard. “Then there’s the hair color.”
Waylon snorted out another snore, vibrating my lap. “It was Santa Story Hour. The red and green were temporary,” I said defensively.
“Wild hair colors in the main profile picture is a clue that the woman could be high-maintenance and—” Nash said.
“Attention whorey,” Knox added.
I grabbed my dyed ends. “That’s rude.”
“I’m not sayin’ it’s true. I’m sayin’ what you put in a dating profile is what you think are your best qualities. And all your ass is sayin’ is that you like cats and weird hair.”
“Then there’s the fact that you’re dressed in an elf costume,” Lina piled on. “Sloane, you’re a smart girl. Why in the hell would you ever pick this picture?”
“The lighting was great. I liked my smile. And the angle made my cheekbones look more defined. Besides, I thought showing me with a cat would tell guys that I’m nurturing.”
“Why the fuck do you want to look nurturing?” Knox asked, horrified.
“Because she’s ready to settle down and start a family,” Naomi told her husband.
“I need a drink,” Lucian muttered under his breath. He left the room.
“No offense, Sloaney, but this profile doesn’t make you look like marriage material. It makes you look like a human red flag,” Nash said.
“Are these rules written down somewhere?”
“Yeah, on a place called the internet,” Knox shot back.
“Great,” I muttered. “So how do I fix this?”
“Now, that we can help you with,” Lina announced.
By the time Lucian returned to the room with a tumbler of liquor, I was standing against the stone fireplace holding a glass of wine—which according to Naomi said responsible but fun—with my hand on my hip, pretending to laugh at something self-appointed art director Knox was saying while Lina took pictures.
Nash had removed a lampshade from a floor lamp and was angling the light bulb in my face.
“I’m hilarious and you’re having the best fucking time,” Knox insisted on a near snarl.
“Maybe if you’d tell me a joke,” I suggested, wondering if I should have just skipped over dating and gone straight to the sperm bank instead.
“Hmm. Do you think we should show more boob or more stomach?” Lina asked, cocking her head and studying me.
“Boob,” the Morgan men said in unison.
Lucian was looking at me with a strangely murderous expression on his face. I stared back.
“Oh, I think we’ve got one. You look all smoldery and sexy,” Lina said, studying the phone screen.
Naomi peeked over her shoulder. “Yet approachable and interesting.”
Knox and Nash leaned in to give their opinions.
“Hot, but not too hot,” Knox decided.
“You’ll land a husband in no time,” Nash agreed. “And we’ll make sure he’s worthy when you do.”
“Let me see,” I demanded.
I glanced at the screen when they held it up and felt heat rise in my cheeks. I’d been giving Lucian the side-eye. That was how I looked when I looked at him? My chin was jutted out, lips parted, eyes smoldering. I looked hot…and horny.
Damn. I actually looked good.
Lucian approached and, to my humiliation, peered at the photo. His gaze returned to me, and I knew he got it. He knew that I’d been looking at him. That that look had been just for him. What was one more secret between the two of us?
“I need a real drink,” I muttered, putting my untouched wine down on the coffee table.
Wordlessly, Lucian handed me his glass and walked out again. I gawked down at it in surprise.
Naomi nudged me. “Look at you two playing nice.”
“Told you electrocuting them wasn’t stupid,” Knox said.
“It’s just a truce,” I said. Then I helped myself to a slug of what turned out to be very nice bourbon.
Waylay sauntered into the room and threw her arm around Naomi’s waist. “What’s going on in here?”
“I thought you were fixing your teacher’s laptop,” Naomi said, brushing Waylay’s hair out of her face.
The girl shrugged. “I finished that in, like, ten minutes. People really need to pay attention to their virus software. Easiest thirty bucks I made all week. Anyway, you guys sounded like you were having more fun than I was. I came to snoop.”
“We’re helping Sloane with her dating profile,” Naomi explained.
“Cool. Can I have more cobbler?” Waylay asked.
“Only if you get me a second helping,” Nash called from where he was putting the shade back on the lamp.
Naomi opened her mouth, but Waylay held up a hand. “Sorry, Aunt Naomi. But a grown-up already said I could and I’m not willing to wait for a second opinion.”
“Fine, but I’m coming with you and making sure your second helping doesn’t weigh half a ton,” Naomi conceded. They headed for the kitchen just as Lucian returned with another glass.
“Let’s talk about this username,” Lina said, drawing my attention away from him and back to the topic at hand.
Nash peered over her shoulder, his hands settling on her hips. “Four-EyedCatLibrarian?”
I winced. Okay, even I had to admit that wasn’t my finest moment of creativity. “What do I want my username to say about me?”
“That you’re not crazy,” Knox said, settling himself on the couch. Waylon hopped up next to him and flopped over on his back.
While my friends decided on a new username, I sipped bourbon in a wingback chair by the fire and wondered why I was so bad at this. I could rock a grant application like a boss. Put me in a social situation, and I could charm the pants off a cute, single guy in record time. But having to market myself in profile form felt overwhelming and stupid.
“You’re holding your wrist,” Lucian said, his voice low and grave.
I jolted. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t felt him approach.
“What?” I glanced down and realized I was absentmindedly rubbing my right wrist with my opposite hand.
“Does it still bother you?” His voice was soft, but there was something brittle about the words.
“No. Of course not,” I said, dropping my hands.
Naomi reappeared. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked, proving that becoming Waylay’s guardian had given her superhuman hearing.
“Is it carpal tunnel?” Lina asked.
“I, uh, broke my wrist in high school. It was no big deal,” I added quickly.
Knox frowned. “I don’t remember that.”
“You had already graduated. It happened right before summer break.”
“I forgot about that,” Nash mused. He pinned me with a long, inscrutable look. As chief of police, Nash would have access to all those old records.
“How did you break it?” Waylay asked.
I purposely didn’t look at Lucian, but I could still feel his attention on me. “The same way a teenager breaks anything. With a lot of clumsiness and a flair for drama.”
“And it still bothers you?” Naomi asked me.
“No. I barely think about it anymore.”
Lina hooted. “Guess who just got three matches and two DMs?”