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“I have not.”

She checks her watch while Cynthia growls at another bird. “Seventeen. Close enough.”

I glare at her, but she has a point. I’ve spent most of our walk talking about last night’s meeting. What I haven’t told her is how much Eric impressed me. He walked into a trap, stayed calm, and actually listened. He asked smart questions, gave clear answers, and made each person feel heard. For the first time, I understood why he runs Voss.

What bothers me is how deeply sexy I found him in that room. For a few minutes, I forgot he was the man trying to build next door. Afterward, he kept looking at my mouth, and in a moment of temporary insanity, I wanted him to kiss me. I was too caught up in him to remember who I was dealing with.

Then he invited me home as if sex were another deal he expected to close, and my sanity returned. The man probably thought I’d wake up beside him ready to sign over the lane. Chloe definitely isn’t hearing any of that.

“He’s just irritating,” I say, deciding we’ve talked about him enough.

“Give him my card. I could find him his perfect match. That might keep him busy.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Why not?”

“Any woman you find will have to compete with the great love of his life.”

Chloe turns to me, brushing a strand of hair from her mouth. “Who’s that?”

“Eric Voss.”

We both laugh and keep walking.

A large golden retriever approaches from the other direction. Cynthia pulls hard on her leash and begins yapping as if she plans to take him down herself.

“Cynthia,” Chloe says gently.

The retriever gives Cynthia a nervous look and moves closer to his owner. Once Cynthia has defended the beach, we continue along the shore.

“What’s happening with you?” I ask.

“Mom tried to sign me up for my own matchmaking service.”

I stop walking. “What?”

Chloe takes another step before turning back to me. “I refused. Then Dad called and offered to pay my full fee if I arranged one date for myself.”

“And you agreed?”

“It’s a very large fee.”

“Who did you choose?”

“A man in the café beneath my office. He was sitting alone, looked good in a suit, and thanked the server when she brought his coffee. So I asked if he was single.”

“You asked out a stranger?”

“I ask strangers about their love lives for a living.” She shrugs.

I fall into step beside her. “What do you know about him?”

“His name’s Nathan. He’s thirty-eight, a dentist, and he’s never been married. He wants children, owns his home, and coaches soccer.”

“He sounds perfect.”

Chloe presses her lips together.