Harry wrinkled his forehead as he thought. “Are you sure you saw what you think you saw? Maybe she dropped something on the floor and was trying to retrieve it.”

Cherry Carmichael growled as she glared at her twin. She and her brother weren’t identical but people could tell they were siblings. One of the biggest things they had in common was that they’d both dated through their twenties and thirties without finding anyone to marry. Now they were turning forty and she would admit to being pessimistic about meeting good men.

Harry remained… well, just Harry. He was a little less cynical and a bit more positive. Her brother had come closer than her to finding love. Harry had even gotten engaged once. His fiancée had broken it off when he’d asked her to sign a prenuptial agreement. That had been a close call for her brother and prompted him to become celibate.

Being celibate seemed too much like giving up to her. Cherry refused to accept that would be her fate as well. That’s why she still went to bars with her single friends while Harry stayed home and watched TV on Friday nights. She didn’t for one minute think that was enough for him, but it had netted her a soft place to land after a disappointing night out.

Harry said she only came to see him to whine about her dating life. Maybe he had a point. She’d gotten a ride to his house tonight because she knew he’d be there. And okay, yes… it was to whine this time. Close girlfriends weren’t part of her busy life. She’d often thought how much better it might have been if her twin had been a sister. But she got a brother instead—a brother who was the only sounding board in her life.

Many would have thought having a brother would have given her instant insight into the minds of the men she dated, but it didn’t. Harry was less predatory and less on the prowl than most of the males who crossed her path. Her brother charmed women and worked to remain friends with the ones he got involved with.

Harry kept telling her to raise her standards and stay away from the jerks. She kept telling him that all men were jerks and that his advice was counterproductive. It was an ongoing sibling argument without a foreseeable end until one of them committed to a life partner. They’d been having the same debate since they were fifteen.

Her job as a pediatric oncology doctor was beyond stressful. Sometimes she felt all she did was work. She loved what she did but even dedicated doctors needed a break. Cherry’s goal was to find a decent guy to share her necessary work breaks with. She wasn’t visiting bars expressly looking for someone to marry, though she knew many people who had met their spouses that way. No, she went to bars only to find company.

In her late twenties and early thirties, going out to bars had worked just fine. These last few years, hooking up with someone in a bar had turned into a nightmare. She had refused to contemplate why meeting men in bars felt so wrong to her now. Maybe it was her age. At forty, most women were home with their children in the evenings, not out drinking.

But was it too much to expect a guy to be faithful for longer than a few nights? Her longest relationship in her life had only lasted a year, but lately, dating a guy she met in a bar barely lasted a week.

What was wrong with men these days? What was wrong with her?

Breaking up with Eric tonight had set a new record. They’d only been together for two days.

“Stop being a guy and be my brother. I walked back to the table and some woman’s head was moving around in Eric’s lap. I stared at him in disbelief and the bastard laughed at my shock. It wasn’t that dark in there, Harry. I know other people saw the same thing I did. Eric thought my shocked reaction was funny.”

Harry winced. “What did you do?”

“I poured my still-full drink into Eric’s lap and got a twofer because most of it got on the back of the woman’s head. She squealed and hit her head on the table as she made her drunken escape from Eric’s crotch. He stopped laughing then and called my name as I left. When he ran to stop me, I yanked away from him and stomped on his foot. If that performance was some joke he was playing on me, I didn’t find it funny. Eric and I are done.”

Harry blew out a breath. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as it looked, but he was an ass to put you through it. That’s an insensitive prank for a grown man dating a mature woman. I’m sorry you have to deal with that crap. That’s why I’m giving you your birthday present early.”

“What is it? Pepper spray? Eric’s lucky I didn’t have any on me in the bar.” Cherry stopped pacing and went to sit on her brother’s couch. “You don’t have to bribe me into a better mood. The venting already helped tremendously. I’ll go home shortly and leave you to watch TV in peace.”

Harry smiled as he rose from his seat. He disappeared into the large man cave he called his bedroom and returned moments later carrying an envelope. Cherry sighed when she saw it was a sealed, thick envelope. That meant something inside it was printed on fancy paper that likely took an entire tree to produce.

Her wealthy twin was an extravagant gift-giver, especially to her, but she wasn’t a struggling medical student with no money any longer. God, she hadn’t been one of those in more than a decade. Her big brother needed to stop buying her expensive things he thought she couldn’t afford.

Cherry winced as she took the envelope from her brother’s fingers. “You didn’t buy me a sports car, did you? I’m a doctor earning a good salary, Harry. I could buy a sports car if I wanted one.”

His grunt was loud. “You don’t even like sports cars, Dr. Carmichael. You bought an SUV the size of a small bus. It’s a good thing you have a private outside parking space at the hospital because that monster is never going to fit into their parking garage.”

“I can haul my life around in it. I love my car. It’s practical.”

“If you say so,” Harry said with an eye roll.

Her brother drove a blue Ferrari Spider that had cost him at least a year of her salary. It may have been worth even more than she thought. From her point of view, the car was a chick magnet purchase. Yet Harry showed no signs of wanting to drive something different even now that there were no women in his life.

“Don’t bad-mouth my SUV. You talk a big talk for a man who has to fold himself into a tiny clown car every day. Your size fourteen foot is probably larger than the gas pedal.”

Harry chuckled at their zingers. “You always know how to keep me humble. My foot fits my car just fine. Quit stalling and open your present. Happy Birthday, sis.”

Cherry gingerly broke the seal of the very fancy stationery. She pulled out a contract and a gift card citing a six-month membership at The Perfect Date.

Her gaze rose to her brother’s. “What is this?”

“It’s a place and a way to find a decent guy that doesn’t involve going to a bar. A friend recommended it to me. I’ve been a member since Heather and I broke things off. I haven’t found anyone better than Sofia yet, but I’ve dated some nice women from their database. I also made a business contact that led to some profitable work. The Perfect Date is a high-profile matchmaking agency run by two people with doctorates.”

Cherry’s firm quirked at the corners. “I see Mom convinced you that a still-single woman turning forty is doomed to live the rest of her life alone. Did you get an equal lecture on the perils of not being married at forty? Don’t bother answering, Harry. I know you didn’t. Men can age without getting any social judgment passed on their marital status. Women still can’t.”

“Mom doesn’t know anything about my dating life—or the lack of it at the moment. She just wants you to be happy. Marriage is optional. I want you to be happy as well. What have you got to lose by going on a few scientifically arranged dates? Think of all the liquor you won’t have to buy. You’ll save a fortune in booze and paying for rides. I bet you’ll save enough to pay for a two-week beach vacation next year.”

Flopping back on Harry’s luxurious sofa made Cherry consider kicking off her shoes and spending the night there. “I can’t believe you think I’m so desperate for a date.”

“No one at that agency is desperate. They’re investing in themselves. Guys can ask you out and you can ask guys out. And they’re not immature men like Eric. Plus, they share your motivations for dating. Dr. Bates’s client database is full of successful people who need help finding the right person. Her statistics speak for themselves.”

“Stop drinking whatever turned you into a die-hard romantic and listen to me.”

Harry’s laugh echoed around the room.

“I’m serious. You’re a great brother and I know you had the best of intentions when you bought me this membership. That’s why I’m going to say this for the thousandth time—stop obsessing over Sofia and give up your hopes of winning her over. I told you what happened to her. Nothing has changed. She has panic attacks still. She buries herself in work. A ton of dynamite couldn’t blow up the walls she’s built to hide behind.”

“Everyone over thirty has some sort of pain in their past, Cherry. People eventually heal if they let themselves. I know I can convince her.”

Cherry carefully re-folded the contract and returned it to the fancy envelope. “Dr. Sofia Walton lost a husband and her two children. That’s not your galactic average pain, Harry. The woman lost everything.”

“Not everything,” Harry said with a smile. “She hasn’t lost me yet.”

Cherry threw up both hands. “Because she doesn’t know you exist, you big dummy. The only thing that exists for Sofia is her work. If you’re so sure about Sofia being your perfect match, why did you join some dating service?”

Harry shrugged. “The Perfect Date is my backup plan. I’m a crazy romantic, but I understand she might not be as equally besotted.”

“Besotted? Did you seriously just use that word in a sentence?”

“Yes. I’ve been watching a Regency series on television. I’m learning many interesting terms.”

“Harry, your obsession with Sofia isn’t a joking matter. The woman you’re obsessed with is just an idea in your head. That’s not the real Sofia Walton. You don’t know her.”

Harry smirked. “I know she’s hot. I know I want to hug her until she feels better.”

Cherry rolled her eyes. “Are you twenty or forty?”

“Technically, I’m thirty-nine for one more week, just like you.”

“Is this about that stupid hunting urge all males seem to have? Do you see yourself as some sort of predator fixated on the one deer in the herd you think will be the tastiest? All deer taste alike, brother.”

Harry snorted. “No. All deer do not taste the same. And I’m not as comfortable with this metaphor as you seem to be. I’m not stalking her like some hunter after a deer. And I’m keeping my distance until I come up with a strategy that won’t scare her.”

Cherry sighed and rose. “ALL men are predators—even you. But I love you anyway. Thanks for my present. I know you meant well.”

“I did, but will you use it?” Harry asked. “If you don’t want it, sis, I’ll give it to a friend or raffle it for charity. I’ll even take you shopping and buy you more bar-hopping clothes. I meant it when I said that I only want you to be happy. I figured joining The Perfect Date might give you another perspective.”

Cherry held up her phone. “I have four dating apps on my phone—four, Harry. All I meet on them are creepers.”

“The Perfect Date is not an app. It’s a matchmaking system. Matches are made by a human being who spends a considerable amount of time choosing appropriate people for you to date. Give them a try, Cherry. You’ve got nothing to lose. I’m sure you’ll have a list of potentials the moment they release your video.”

“Oh, great. They do videos.” Rolling her eyes, Cherry stood and grabbed her purse. “I’m going home. See you next week.”

Harry stood with her and walked her to the door. “Grab one of the rides downstairs. Drivers tend to park here while they’re waiting for their next fare.”“Thanks, Harry.” Cherry stepped into her brother’s arms and let them surround her. When her brother finally settled down, his wife would be a lucky woman.Harry was secretly domesticated, but made sure it never showed.