Island Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story (The Kisses Series Book 9) (5 page)

T
he computer screen
glowed against the backdrop of the oncoming evening. The dark blue of the sky as night felt was soft and comforting like a blanket around a child. It was another warm night in Miami and the intense heat of the day had mellowed into a pleasant temperature and the humidity was actually comfortable. On a normal night, my computer screen became the only light in the room and I used it to get lost in my blog.

However, this evening was different. On this particular evening I needed to research and make sure I was prepared for my date. I had gone deep into the conversation that my sister had begun. I was like a student studying over a textbook before a big test; I knew their conversation held valuable information, it was a matter of trying to dissect it and uncover his personality.

The mask that Rosie had assumed while trying to imitate me was hilarious. I had already scanned their conversation several times and had paused frequently to laugh out loud. She either had no idea how to flirt with someone online, or she was too concerned with compensating for my personality that she just sounded absurd. Or more likely, a brutal combination of both.

I wondered if he had also thought she sounded absurd. He seemed to have been receptive though, and we were going on a date, so apparently it wasn't too awful. I kept going back through to re-read various portions of their exchange to make sure I wasn't going to say anything contradictory.

• He had initiated the conversation:
  Hey whats up? I saw your picture and thought you were cute.
  
• Rosie had replied:
  Hey! You’re not too bad lookin yourself.
  
• Gabe:
  I usually hover around a 7 on a good day.
  
• Rosie:
  I guess your picture was taken on an extra good day then.
  
• Gabe:
  Why? You think I’m looking more like a 7 ½?
  
• Rosie:
  Maybe even a 7 and ¾ …
  

I
couldn’t help
but laugh again. It wasn’t awful but the idea of Rosie flirting like that while her husband looked on was hysterical. She had made an obvious attempt to sound flirty, which worked better on some occasions than others, but overall it wasn’t a terrible effort. It was still weird to imagine Rosie trying so hard to sound like me. Most of their messages were amusing but they were also far from what I would have said. There was still a little too much Rosie seeping through, no matter how hard she had tried to mask it.
I sure hope he doesn’t expect me to be this sweet in person
, I thought.

• At one point he had said;
  So is this how you usually spend your Saturday nights?
  
• And Rosie had replied with;
  Idk… I like to switch it up and keep it interesting…
  

I
wanted
to slap my sister through the screen.
Is that really how she thinks I would have responded to that? It’s a wonder this guy still wants to go on a date with me,
I thought.

The conversation got a little better after the topic of sports was introduced and I was immediately glad to see he had brought it up.

• Gabe:
  So you’re a Bluejays fan huh?
  
• Rosie:
  I’m the biggest Bluejays fan there is!
  
• Again, not how I would have phrased that, but okay sis.
  
• He wrote back;
  I’d be willing to make a bet on that one. No way you're a bigger fan than me.
  

R
osie replied
with more frivolous banter. She had refrained from interjecting any sort of real sports talk, and I was glad. Knowing Rosie, she would have attempted to sound clever and like she knew what she was talking about, but anyone with an actual understanding of football would have seen right through it. I wondered if Thomas had stepped in and told her to hold back.
Most likely,
I decided.

The topic of sports trailed off probably after he realized it wasn’t really going anywhere. In person I would have to revive his faith in me as a sports fan, but that was okay. He had transitioned by asking about my work.

• He wrote;
  Ha ha I guess we’ll see. So what do you do for work then?
  
• Rosie wrote back;
  I’m a writer! What about you?
  
• Gabe:
  Oh that’s cool! What do you write about? I kind of do some writing for work, too.
  
• Rosie:
  No way! I write articles, what kind of stuff do you write about?
  
• Gabe:
  Wow that’s really cool. I’m not actually that much of a writer I guess. I just write code- ha. I own my own business.
  

Y
eah
, writing code isn’t quite the same, buddy,
I thought and chuckled to myself. Rosie replied with a joke about writing code that I figured had probably come from Thomas. He then jabbed back by asking whether I wrote articles for
The Wall Street Journal
or for
Playboy Magazine.
I laughed again.
Not bad dude. But if only you knew,
I thought. Luckily Rosie hadn’t disclosed any specifics about my blog.

The conversation continued with more playful mockery and teasing. He seemed like a decent enough guy. He was a little bro-y, but that was okay, I could be a bit of a bro myself. Besides that he was funny and even a little clever. He sounded smart and for a second I found myself slightly interested by his persona. He had managed to lead a pretty fun and entertaining conversation, despite having to deal with Rosie’s uncanny sort of demeanor.

I found myself fixating on certain messages where he seemed particularly crafty. He sounded like a fun person to talk to and I wondered if he would maintain the same sense of clever confidence in person that he had shown online. The ones with strong online personalities and a weak physical presence were the worst. Then again, whatever personality he had put forth online was immediately more than any effort of mine. Any idea he had of my personality was fabricated. In all my days of writing a dating blog, I had never imagined I would be following a blueprint laid down by my sister.

My phone beeped loudly, startling me and reminding me that it was time to get ready. I took a deep breath and stood from my computer.

It was time to see how accurate this
perfect match
really was. Time to see if he was really as charming as he seemed online. I wasn’t usually the type that attracted gentlemen, but maybe Rosie was. After all, she had landed Thomas and he was a good guy. I could see myself being happy with a guy like Thomas. Evidently, she had done enough to make this guy interested in me, or interested enough to
consider
being interested in me. It was time to find out.

Trying to match an expectation set by my sister was going to be weird. Whatever blueprint she had laid had been with me in mind, but still, their conversation was littered with things I would never say. It was all based on things Rosie thought I would say. Whether or not he liked or disliked those things, they weren't going to be what showed up on our date tonight. I wasn’t going to fake a personality, even if it was supposed to be me in the first place.

Though I wondered how many times had I encountered someone with a million different faces. People who appeared to be one thing online, only to be completely different in real life.
Too many to count,
I thought. My readers would have known the answer to that.

Perhaps there had even been times when I had come across differently online than in person. Even though I tried to come across as real as possible, it was a natural problem with online dating and a certain level of variance could always be expected.

Even if Mr. Perfect Match had fallen in love with the character Rosie had created, he was going to get
me
. He was going to meet the girl that my sister had attempted to imitate. And if I couldn’t live up to her imitation and his fantasy, then that would be on him. He would have to learn that
perfect matches
aren’t the same in the real world as they are online.

I had already showered and was finishing the final touches of my make-up. It was kind of funny how my mind had wandered, I thought. I had spent the entire preparation process worrying about trying to live up to an online profile that I hadn’t even created. I was nervous about being the bad date instead of having one and I laughed.
That’s new,
I thought.
I guess if you write about bad dates long enough you start to become one.

I buckled my shoes around my ankle. We had planned a dinner with a walk and I had selected a decent pair of black wedges without much of a heel that would be comfortable and sexy. The restaurant was slightly fancy, but I had been on enough dates that I no longer stressed over my outfit. I wore my favorite dark blue dress. It was just the right amount of classy without going overboard.

Dinner and a walk had been his idea and Rosie had happily agreed. He had also recommended the restaurant. At the very least a nice dinner would be enjoyable, as long as I wasn’t conned into paying extravagantly again. The walk would be something new. I wondered where he was planning on taking me, or if we were just going to walk around the restaurant. Either could be interesting.

A walk also means that I’ll have a lot of open space to run if things get really bad,
I thought and almost laughed again as gathered my purse and stepped out the door.

Okay, Mr. Perfect Match. I'm ready for my date.

H
ere comes
another great blog post,
I thought, as I stood outside of the very nice restaurant and reevaluated my shoe choice. I frowned and hear Rosie's voice in my head.
No, be nice. It might be great.

Given my dating history, I wasn't expecting much. The best I could really hope for was that I wouldn’t get stuck with the bill like last time. If that happened at this restaurant, I’d have to go to the poor house.
Dove’s
was one of the nicest places in town and a two-person meal would be the same amount as a quarter of my rent.

A well-dressed hostess greeted me as I entered. I was fairly sure that she made more as a waitress here than I did as a blogger.

“I’m meeting someone, but I’m not sure if he’s here yet,” I explained, as I took off my sunglasses and put them in my purse. “I can just wait at the bar.”

“Of course,” the woman said, as she turned and led me across the restaurant to a beautiful bar next to a giant window overlooking the ocean. “Enjoy your dinner.”

She pulled the chair out for me and I sat down. I checked my watch. We were at go time. If this guy was late like the other one, I wasn’t going to stick around.

Five minutes, that’s all this guy gets before I’m leaving,
I promised myself.

“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Alandro.” A charming bartender grinned over the bar at me. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

I’ll bet they charge for water here,
I thought, glancing at the very expensive drink menu.
Water with ice must cost even more.

“I think I’m okay for now,” I said. “I’m meeting someone and I’d rather just order when they get here.”

The waiter’s eyes lit up as he pointed across the restaurant. “Is that the man you’re meeting? He mentioned that he was meeting a pretty girl tonight and I assume he must have been talking about you.”

I smiled at the compliment and looked in the direction that the waiter was pointing. A handsome man in a black suit sat by himself at a table in the opposite corner. My jaw practically hit the floor when I saw him. He looked exactly like he did in the pictures on his dating profile, something that I was not accustomed to seeing.

“You know, that actually
is
the person I’m meeting,” I responded, as I stood up and followed the waiter to the other table. “Thank you.”

The man with dark hair and green eyes looked up from a menu as I approached. He looked familiar for some reason, and it wasn’t just because I had seen his photos on his dating profile. It felt like I had seen him other places too, but I just couldn’t quite put my finger on when or where.

Oh well, not important,
I thought.
I’ve met so many people with my dating blog. They all start looking familiar after awhile.

His lips curled up into a smile as he set the menu on the table in front of him and stood up. “Harper?”

“Gabe?”

We shook hands and then he stepped around me and pulled out my chair like a true gentleman.

Wow. I can’t remember the last time a guy did that,
I thought. It was actually really charming. Point to Mr. Perfect Match.

“It’s really good to meet you,” he said, as he walked back to his chair and sat down.

“Good to meet you, too.” I responded with a smile.

The guy was gorgeous, so at least no matter how the evening went, I’d have something nice to look at. Given my previous hundred dates, though, my hopes were still about as low as possible.

“What can I bring you to drink?” a waiter asked, coming up to the table.

“Um, I’ll just take a water,” I said, flashing another smile. For some reason, I was nervous. I never felt nervous on dates, but this one was different.

“That’s all you want?” Gabe asked. He smiled and motioned to the menu. “You can order whatever you like.”

That’s what the last guy said and then I ended up paying for it.
I shook my head and smiled. “Just water,” I repeated. “Thank you, though.”

Gabe shrugged. “I’ll take a dirty martini,” he told the waiter.

“Sounds great, sir,” replied the waiter. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

The waiter scurried away and I shifted in my seat. The initial awkwardness of a first meeting was definitely in the air, and even though I had been on tons dates, I still couldn’t shake it. Luckily, Gabe didn’t let the silence last very long.

“So, Harper, tell me about yourself,” he said, leaning back in his chair but keeping those green eyes focused on me.

“There’s not a whole lot to tell,” I responded. “I work as a writer for a magazine. What about you?”

“I remember you said something about that.” He smiled and leaned forward. His dark hair fell across his brow, somehow making him even more attractive. “What do you write? Anything I'd recognize?”

He seemed genuinely interested, which actually made me a little nervous. Very few of my dates ever seemed this interested. I obviously couldn’t tell him about the blog I ran, since I knew later that night I’d be writing about this date and the last thing I wanted was him looking me up.

“Oh, nothing special. Just articles here and there. A little of this, a little of that. I’m freelance, so I don’t work for a specific magazine.” I shrugged, trying to play it cool and tell him enough without actively lying. “I just take the work as it comes. Sometimes I write about the latest marathon in town and other times I’ll write about football.”

“I love football,” he said, with a smile. “It’s my guilty pleasure.”

“Mine too,” I said, feeling some of my nerves fade. “Sundays are the only times that nobody can get ahold of me. My whole family knows that I won’t answer my phone if a game is on.”

Gabe laughed and leaned back in his chair. His laugh was easy and confident. It made me want to join in.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a football fan,” he said. “No offense, but you’re kind of missing the beer gut and sideburns.”

“Come on now, not every football fan is like that,” I said with a laugh. “Besides, I’m working on my sideburns. I think they're coming in quite nicely, actually.”

Any initial awkwardness was quickly vanishing. It was unusual for a first date, but nothing to write home about. Some men were just good at talking to people and I assumed that’s all it was. I started taking mental notes so that when I wrote the blog a little later, I’d have all the details I’d need to make an interesting post.

“What do you do, Gabe?” I asked.

“I am a…” he started to say, pausing as the waiter came up and delivered our drinks.

Here we go,
I thought.
This is where he fluffs up his position at whatever company he works for. This is where he tells me he’s a “Master of the Custodial Arts” when in reality he’s just a janitor.

“Software engineer for my own business,” he finished. He took a sip of his martini and smiled.

“So what does that entail?” I asked, hoping he'd give me something juicy to write about later. “What kind of software?”

“Oh nothing special really. A little of this, a little of that. I just take the work as it comes,” he said with a sly smile.

“Is that right?” I played with the straw in my water, swirling the ice around as I smiled. He was poking fun at me for my vague response to his similar question, but I actually liked it. This guy had a backbone and he wasn’t letting me walk all over him.

“Yeah, it’s just a job,” he responded with a shrug that made me notice just how broad his shoulders were. “Kind of boring, honestly. Unless you like typing and looking at numbers all day. It's not exactly riveting date conversation.”

“But you own your own business?” I asked, trying to remember exactly what his profile had said.

“Well, me and two other guys own the company,” he explained. “I run all the computer code and software programming for it.”

“You don’t exactly look like the 'computer nerd' type,” I said. I motioned to his perfect hair, smoking body, and confident smile.

“What, do you think we all look the same?” he responded. “I left my pocket protector and nerd glasses at home just for this date. I can run back and get them if you want.”

“How else am I supposed to believe you work on computers for a living?” I asked, laughing. “I brought a pen and paper just to prove I'm a writer.”

Gabe chuckled as he grabbed his martini and held it in the air.

“Let’s cheers. How about to new people in our lives?” he asked.

“To
potential
new people in our lives,” I corrected him. I wasn't quite ready to mark this date in the win category just yet. We still had a full meal to go and anything could happen, but for the first time in a long time, it looked actually possible.

We clinked our glasses and I took a sip of my water. Gabe was seriously charming, witty and beyond gorgeous. I feared that I was actually kind of enjoying myself, which was very strange for me. We chatted lightly about things, like where we grew up and how we fell into our lines of work. He was so easy to talk to that I found myself forgetting that we were on a date.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked, as the waiter approached us.

I hadn’t even looked at the menu. I had been too into our conversation.

“Um, I’ll just take an appetizer,” I said, glancing at the menu. I picked the cheapest thing I could find. “Maybe grilled asparagus or something.”

“Harper, order whatever you like,” Gabe urged, though he didn’t specifically say that he’d be picking up the tab.

“I’d rather have something light, though. I’m not super hungry.” I flashed him a grin. It wasn't a lie: butterflies had begun to flow inside of me, which had put my appetite in check.

What is this guy doing to me?
I wondered. I was pretty sure that my blog had killed all the first date jitters, but apparently not.

I stuck with the grilled asparagus appetizer and Gabe got a 10-ounce filet mignon. The waiter took our orders and disappeared around the corner. Gabe sipped his martini before fixing me with his piercing green eyes. It was impossible to not feel like the center of the universe when he looked at me like that.

“I have to know, what’s your favorite football team?” Gabe asked.

“The Miami Blue Jays, of course,” I said, as my eyes grew wide. I could have sworn we had already “chatted” about this. Or rather, he and Rosie had. Maybe he had just forgotten or was making conversation. “They’re the best team in the nation.”

“The best in the nation?” Gabe looked thoughtful. “I mean they’re good. Really good. But they haven’t been to the playoffs in six years.”

“So what? I don’t care if they never go to the playoffs again, they’re still the best team because they’re from the town I live in,” I shot back. “I’m no bandwagon fan. Blue Jays all the way, rain or shine, I’ll still cheer them on. They're
my
team.”

Gabe’s eyes were locked with mine and I found myself falling into them. His green irises looked like something out of a painting, too beautiful to be real. They were emerald green, like the rolling hills of Ireland, but more exotic.

“I’m actually glad you said that,” he said, a smile splitting his face in two. “The Blue Jays are my team also. I just wanted to make sure we didn’t love rival teams or something.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have worked out,” I joked. “I couldn’t date a Crows fan. The fights when they lost would just be too hard.”

Gabe leaned his head back and laughed. “I agree completely.”

We nibbled on our food while we talked and for the first time on any date ever, I found myself not wanting it to end. The food was delicious, but I was actually more interested in Gabe than the meal. By the time dessert came, I had all but forgotten that the reason I even went on the date was so that I’d have more material for another blog post. In fact, my website and blog were the last thing on my mind. I was actually
into
this guy and interested in what he had to say. I couldn’t believe it.

“Dessert?” he asked. “The tiramisu is amazing here.”

I nodded. “That's actually one of my favorite desserts.”

Am I on Candid Camera or something?
I asked myself. A part of me thought my sister was going to pop out from behind a nearby booth any second and tell me that the whole thing was a set up, and that Gabe was a friend of hers who she’d paid to play some elaborate prank on me. This scenario seemed more likely than a date going right for once.

I hated the fact that I felt suspicious of any guy that didn’t totally offend me or make me feel awkward, but I couldn’t help it. He was just so different than the other men. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

How am I supposed to deal with a date that’s gone well? And why is it so horrifying to me?
I wondered.
I should be able to handle this!

Gabe ordered us a tiramisu to share, which we took turns eating as we conversed.

“So have you met a lot of good people on Kindling Dating?” he asked, taking a bite of dessert.

I nearly spit out my mouthful in response. Maybe he did know who I was and this was an elaborate joke.

“This is actually my first date using Kindling,” I replied cautiously.

His eyes widened at my response. “Really? You seem really good at first dates for this to be your first one.”

“Oh, it's just my first time with Kindling,” I said. “I've used other dating sites.”

“How's this one stacking up compared to those?” he asked. I wasn't sure, but he seemed nervous about my answer. It was actually kind of adorable.

Play it cool, Harper. Play it cool,
I thought. This date was a thousand times better, maybe even a million times better than my usual ones. I was actually attracted to this guy and the conversation was so smooth and easy. If I wasn't in the business of bad dates, I would give Kindling Dating an A+ at this point.

I couldn't actually say any of that, though.

“Yeah, this date seems to be going pretty well,” I responded, trying to act nonchalant about it. I was pretty sure he could see right through me.

“Good,” he said, another one of his amazing smiles crossing his face. “I’m glad. And I agree. It’s going pretty well. I’ve been having a lot of fun getting to know you. A lot of fun.”