Miss Match Read Free

glancing up from the batter. She looked adorable in her rumpled jeans and T-shirt from last night. Her face was devoid of makeup, her hair pulled back in a loose messy bun. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. I’ve been banging pots for twenty minutes. Aspirin’s on the counter.”
    He grabbed the two white pills and swallowed them dry. “You could’ve borrowed a pair of my sweats instead of sleeping in jeans.” Before Antonio, she would’ve done so without blinking. But since the engagement four weeks ago, things had been changing.
    Luke dipped a finger into the pancake batter, and Brooke swatted at his hand. But it was playful, so maybe they were okay.
    “I’m engaged now. I shouldn’t be spending the night over here in any type of clothes. That’s the last time I babysit your drunk butt.”
    He winced at the accusation in her tone. “At least it’s a holiday, right?”
    She grunted. “You made me miss out on Black Friday shopping.”
    “I’ll buy you whatever you wanted.”
    Brooke rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking your money.” She stirred the batter a few more times, then poured some on the griddle. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”
    “You didn’t have to cook. And you didn’t have to stay last night, either.” If Antonio found out she’d slept over, he’d pout and throw a tantrum like a spoiled toddler. From the calm voices of the phone conversation, Luke was guessing she hadn’t told him.
    “The breakfast is to help make this conversation suck less.” Brooke slid a tablet across the black granite counter top. “Mitch called. Google Alert directed him to this about an hour ago. Obviously he’s thrilled.”
    “Mitch needs to relax.” Luke woke the tablet with a swipe. A web page was already pulled up to a popular tabloid. One of the less reputable ones, if there was such a thing. And there, on the front page, was a photo of him and Candi, lips locked in a sloppy kiss. The picture was grainy, as though taken long-range with a cell phone. In big, black letters across the top, the headline proclaimed, “Billionaire Turkey Bags a Holiday Treat.”
    Luke clenched his hand into a fist. He never should’ve let Candi kiss him. He couldn’t believe he’d almost gone home with her. He glanced at Brooke, hoping to gauge her reaction. She busily flipped bacon, but her lips were pursed into a line.
    “Must’ve been a slow news day,” he said.
    “Read the story.”
    Oh no. He clicked on the article and opened it. There were two more grainy photos—one of Brooke helping him to the car, and another of Brooke and Candi talking. The photo made it look like they’d been in a cat fight. Luke didn’t remember anything like that.
    He read the caption. Luke Ryder was seen leaving the club with Brooke Pierce, who still sports her engagement ring from artist Antonio Giordano. Pierce and Giordano met through a matchmaker at Toujour, where Pierce is an employee. Despite that, it has long been rumored that Pierce is carrying on a not-so-secret affair with Ryder. Luke swallowed. The article couldn’t be further from the truth.
    “I’m sorry, Brooke. I didn’t mean to drag you into this again.” He sheepishly motioned to her phone on the counter. “I heard you talking to Antonio. He’s pissed, isn’t he?”
    “Yes, and I can’t blame him. I see red every time a girl so much as flirts with him. And you and I are constantly being linked together in the media. It’s not easy for Antonio.” She pointed her spatula at Luke. “I assured him I’d do whatever necessary to stay out of the papers and squash the rumors.”
    “I’m sorry,” Luke repeated. He curled his fingers into his palm. She acted as if being linked romantically to him was the worst possible thing.
    Brooke flipped the pancakes. “Out of all the girls in the club, you had to pick Candi. Have you forgotten how crazy she is?”
    Maybe.
    “You’ve been showing up in the media a lot lately.”
    “Not true,” Luke