Matt Taylor glanced at his watch for the fourth time. Where the hell was his date? She’d been in the bathroom for at least twenty minutes. Either the food didn’t agree with her or she wasn’t coming back. He could tell by her reaction when they’d met that there were no sparks on her end.

“This is my last damned blind date,” he muttered under his breath, inwardly cursing himself for allowing his friends to talk him into this. At thirty-two years old, it would be nice to have someone to spend his life with, but it was difficult to find a woman who appreciated a nice guy. He’d lost count of all the times he’d been cast in the best friend role, or dumped for being just too good or not exciting enough.

One woman had gone so far as to tell him that though she found him cute, he didn’t have enough sex appeal to attract women. It was enough to crush any man’s ego, yet he tried not to get bitter over it. He wasn’t looking for a beauty queen, just someone he could talk to and share his deepest thoughts with.

On the verge of him signaling to the waiter for the check, Charlene appeared, flopping down with dramatic flair. “Sorry about that, hon. I ran into an old friend when I went to the restroom.” She flipped a lock of long auburn hair over her shoulder.

Charlene was pretty, but well aware of it. Actually those twenty minutes she’d spent in the ladies’ room had been a relief because it gave Matt a break from listening to Charlene’s favorite subject. Herself. Not only was she conceited, but within the first few minutes of them meeting she’d not so subtly asked what his net worth was.

“No problem.”

“Mark, can I be honest with you?” she asked, leaning over the table and giving him a generous view inside her dress.

“Of course. I’d prefer it.” He smiled, waiting for her to drop the bomb. The least she could have done was get his name right.

“This isn’t going to work out. I mean, you seem like a really nice guy, but you’re just not my type.”

Even though he didn’t really want to further their acquaintance either, her words stung. Pasting a smile on his face, Matt nodded. If anything, he was a gentleman. “I understand. Blind dates don’t always work out.”

She snorted. “Tell me about it. Maryanne said you were cute. I mean, you are cute, but in a geeky science guy kind of way. I like my men to be a little beefier, if you know what I mean. No offense.”

Kind of like the way I like my women to have an IQ over 50. As much as he wanted to say it, his ingrained manners wouldn’t allow him. Just because Charlene obviously had no tact didn’t mean he should follow suit. “None taken. Seeing as this isn’t really going anywhere, let me get the waiter and I’ll take you home.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Max. My friend and I are going out after this, but thanks anyway. You don’t mind if I go and sit over there, do you?”

“Not at all, and the name is Matt.”

“What?”

“You called me Max. My name is Matt.”

“Oh, did I? Don’t take it personally, hon. I’m not really big on names. It was nice meeting you, Mike.” She stood up with a brief smile and walked over to the table of her friend, who turned out to be a man. She hadn’t even thanked him for dinner.

His face burned with anger and humiliation. Matt didn’t have to look in a mirror to know his face was bright red. When he got his bill, he threw a few twenties on the table and walked out of the restaurant in disgust. That’s it. He was finished with the dating scene and women who didn’t appreciate being treated like ladies.

Later that night as he stepped out of the shower, he studied himself in the mirror. He’d never be a Brad Pitt, but he wasn’t completely hopeless in the looks department either.

Most women called him cute, a word he detested. Wet and wavy brown locks framed an angular face. Hazel eyes ringed with gold stared back at him. A couple inches shy of six feet, his body was lanky, but toned from years of cycling and swimming. What was it about him that made women overlook him? Was it because he called when he said he would? Or because he held the door open for his dates and treated them with respect? Even if he tried, he could never be a bad boy.

The only women he seemed to attract were the ones who’d been used and abused. Then they wanted him to pick up the pieces. Well, he was tired of being the clean up guy. Whoever said nice guys finished last wasn’t kidding.

It wasn’t even as if he were aiming high. Sure it would be nice to have a stunner, but if anything Matt was realistic. Maybe he’d just have to give up the dating scene altogether. After all, it wasn’t as if gorgeous women who were crazy about him just fell out of the sky.