Intrigued, I clicked over to her pictures. There were only a few, but one in particular caught my attention. It was a photo taken from the side as she cannonballed into a pool. Her dark hair flew high above her, and the portion of her face I could see was scrunched up in a smile. And while I couldn’t get a good look at her body, since it was all folded up, I could see she had the curves to rock the bikini she wore. Even better, she looked like the type of woman who cared more about having fun than her hair and makeup getting ruined in the pool. And lately, the latter was the type of woman I seemed to attract when I went out.

By the time my phone buzzed, reminding me it was time to leave to pick up Bella, I’d wasted almost two hours on a dating site I never thought I’d visit. I started to shut down my laptop, but the last open window had the photo of the woman cannonballing. It made me smile again before I clicked it closed.

My finger hovered over the power button to turn off my Mac, but then I thought better of it and went back to the dating site one more time.

I scanned through my matches, looking for one in particular. Finding Val44, I took one more peek.

What the hell? Why not?

Plenty of people used sites like this.

I clicked the button beneath her profile to let her know I was interested.

***

“This place is so boring.”

I dragged the last of my sister’s bags into my apartment and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. It was pretty damn humid for almost the end of May.

“Manhattan? Is boring? That’s one I haven’t heard.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean Manhattan. I mean your apartment. What fun can I have staying with my brother?”

“Where else would you stay? Besides, you’re here for the summer, not forever.” Thank God for small things. Bella had been fourteen when our parents died five years ago. I’d never thought about not taking her in and becoming her guardian, even though I was only twenty at the time. But I’ll admit I was relieved when she’d decided to go away for college. Raising a fourteen-year-old was sure as hell easier than a nineteen-year-old.

“The summer house. I’ll go out to Montauk for the summer.”

“I can’t commute from there every day.”

“So? Who asked you to commute? I meant I would spend the summer out there, and you would spend the summer here.”

“Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’d be all alone, and there’s no security out there.”

“It’s Montauk. No one even locks their doors. We spent every summer out there growing up. Montauk is safer than Manhattan.”

“How do I know you aren’t going to have wild parties?”

“So what if I do?”

“You’re nineteen, not twenty-one.”

She arched a brow. “And you never had a drink or threw a party until you were twenty-one?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

“God, Ford. When did you turn into Dad?”

Even if I had security installed at the beach house out east, I wasn’t sure it was a good place for Bella to be. Neither of us had been there since we lost Mom and Dad, and if there was anyplace in the world that was filled with memories of them, it was Montauk—Mom hosing down our feet in the outdoor shower, having breakfast with Dad on the back deck. Dad leaning in the doorway quietly, watching Mom dance to music in the kitchen. The way he smiled when he looked at her—that thought picked at a wound that had only just begun to heal.

When our accountant had suggested we rent out the place, I didn’t even entertain the idea. I’d rather take the loss on maintaining the property than let strangers into the house.

Bella would never be able to handle the stir of all those memories. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could either. I should probably just put the place up for sale.

“Come on, Ford. You know, I don’t actually need your permission to go. I can grab the Jitney while you’re at work.”

Of course she was right. Bella was over eighteen and could go anywhere she wanted now. The only thing I held over her was the purse strings. I was her financial trustee until she was twenty-one.

“Maybe we can spend a weekend out there or something?” I said.

“You mean the two of us? Gee, how romantic. Sounds like a blast.”

I sighed. This was going to be one long-ass summer.

Chapter 3

* * *

Valentina

At first, scrolling through the responses I received had been entertaining. I’d sift through the dating profiles while having a glass of wine and read the endless stream of messages. But after a few days, it became apparent that even though some of the guys seemed nice, I wasn’t going to respond to any of them.

I had no idea what to say. I’m totally not ready.

Just as I was about to sign off and go to bed, an instant message popped up on the bottom of my screen. I didn’t even know you could send those. Donovan620 from New York City wrote: Ryan is my middle name. Am I disqualified?

I’d forgotten to change the part of my profile that said my ideal match was not named Ryan, having been too focused on removing the part about favoritism shown to those nicknamed Cunnilingus King. Although, it was probably just as well since the thought of calling another man Ryan after so many years with my husband was just too odd to me. Plus, it was also my son’s name.

When I didn’t respond in a few minutes, another message popped up.

Donovan620: Really? I’m vetoed because of a middle name? I can probably get it legally changed if it works out. Although, my grandfather might be upset.

His message made me laugh, so I typed back.

Val44: I actually think Ryan as a middle name would be fine, so long as you would stipulate to abbreviate it in your signature and not introduce yourself utilizing it.

Donovan620: If anyone you meet on here introduces himself using his first, middle, and last name, you should delete him immediately. That’s just weird.

Val44: You’re probably right.

Donovan620: I get that a lot. So…why so anti-Ryan, Valentina D?

He’d used my full name, which meant he must have checked out my profile. Curiously, I clicked on his. There was only one picture, although it definitely caught my attention. He was mid air, jumping off a high-dive board, and the photo was taken from the ground. His knees were tucked and his arms wrapped around them as he cannonballed into a pool. It was almost the same profile pic as my photo, except he was, of course, a man. I looked closer—Donovan620 was definitely a man, with some amazing muscular arms wrapped around his knees. Even his calf muscles bulged in the shot.

Another message popped up. I hadn’t responded to his question about the name Ryan.

Donovan620: Are you busy checking out my profile or ignoring me?

Val44: Ignoring you.

Donovan620: Well, you’re not very good at it seeing as you just responded.

He made me smile again. So I ’fessed up.

Val44: I might have been checking out your profile. Did you notice anything interesting about our profile pictures?

Donovan620: That’s what caught my attention. Any woman who cannonballs is worth changing my middle name for.

Donovan was witty. I liked him. And maybe, just maybe, his muscles were nice, too. I refilled my wine glass.

Donovan620: That wasn’t the only coincidence. Go ahead, check me out fully.

Clicking back to his profile, I continued to read.

Age: 25

My ideal match: Old enough to know better, young enough to not give a fuck. Smart. Loves the outdoors and simple things in life—like taking the scenic route when driving.

Val44: Did you just add that to your ideal match?

Donovan620: Nope.

Val44: Well, it seems as though we have a few things in common. It’s too bad I don’t meet the rest of your criteria.

Donovan620: What part?

Val44: While I’m definitely old enough to know better, it seems I do give a fuck.

Donovan620: I’ll overlook your sensibility, seeing as you’ve dealt with my unfortunate middle name.

Val44: That’s very kind of you. But we have another problem—one I’m afraid we won’t be able to get past.

Donovan620: And that is…

Val44: You’re too young for me. You’re twenty-five. I’m thirty-seven.

Donovan620: Your profile states that your ideal match is between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-eight.

Val44: My friend wrote that. I’ve recently updated it to over 35.

Donovan620: Is she a good friend?

Val44: Yes. Why?

Donovan620: Then you should listen to her. She knows you and probably knows what she’s talking about.

Val44: Yes, but—

His next message popped up before I could finish.

Donovan620: Age is only a number. What’s important is you’re obviously young at heart since you still cannonball, and you’d choose the scenic route over the faster freeway. Don’t say no just yet. Talk to me for a while. See if we connect. Then decide.

Val44: I don’t know, Donovan. I had a child at a young age. My son is not that much younger than you.

Donovan620: A week. Come on. This is my first experience on Match, and you don’t want to ruin that for me. The outcome of this could scar me for life if it goes sideways.

I thought about it for a while. I wasn’t planning on meeting him in person during that time.

Val44: Is it really your first experience on here?