“Dex,” I replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Erin looked up at the sign for the Birch Aquarium. “Thanks for driving all the way down to La Jolla. Amy told me you live in Oceanside.”
I smiled. “I do, and it’s no trouble.”
“You’re a Marine stationed at Pendleton?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She grinned. “Couldn’t tell.”
I handed the tickets Amy had given me to the employee working at the aquarium. He tore them, handed us back the stubs, and directed us to the entrance. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to an aquarium, but I had to give Amy credit for the date idea. Between this and the carnival, I could tell she was the kind of woman who liked to think outside the box.
Not that I should be thinking about what kind of woman she was. Amy was my matchmaker—the one who was supposed to find me a match. Falling for her seemed … cheesy. It was probably something every other guy did, especially considering how gorgeous she was. I wouldn’t be surprised if all of her male clients had developed crushes on her at one point or another. And now that I thought about it, Amy probably hated it when that happened. Did they invite her to hang out with them after their dates like I had after the carnival? And if they did, did she always say yes, or did she only say yes to me because it was me?
“So,” Erin started, breaking me from my reverie, “have you been here before?”
I shook my head. “First time. You?”
“I’ve been here a few times. I live just down the street.”
“La Jolla is a nice area. I’ve been here a few times,” I said. And since it would be wrong of me to approach this dating situation in any way other than thinking about the future, my mind flashed to the idea of moving there when I got out of the Marines. “I could see myself living here.”
Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, and she blushed. “It’s a nice place to live.”
I returned her smile, hoping I didn’t look as nervous as I felt. I wondered if I’d been too forward with that comment. I had no idea which topics were too soon or off-limits for a first date. I made a mental note to keep the talk of the future to a minimum, just in case.
For the next few minutes, we strolled along, making small talk about the various oceanography displays. Erin seemed genuinely interested in the science of it all, not just the pretty fish. I noticed that the exhibits that caught her interest the most were the ones that explained how things worked. I had to hand it to Amy. It was early still, but if the beginning of our date was any indication, Erin seemed like my first good match. I guessed one-for-three wasn’t that bad.
“How long have you been a Marine?” Erin asked as we meandered along, examining the colorful fish as we walked by.
“Seventeen years.”
“Wow.” She drew out the word. “I’ll admit, I really wasn’t sure why Amy thought I’d make a good match for a Marine until she told me you were a computer geek.”
I chuckled. “Did she use those exact words? ‘Computer geek’?”
“I may have been paraphrasing.”
“Oh, okay,” I replied, almost disappointed. For some reason, I liked the idea of Amy calling me a computer geek. In the same way I’d liked it when she’d called me Gunnery Sergeant Computer Crimes Guy. It had a certain ring to it. I shook my head. I needed to focus on Erin, and what she called me, not Amy. “She mentioned you’re in software development and you work from home.”
Erin’s pretty face lit up. “Yes, and I love being able to take my computer outside and enjoy this Southern California weather. It’s perfect, all year long.”
Oh, good. The weather. That was a safe and easy topic if I’d ever heard one. “Yeah, much better than the middle of the desert. I was stationed in Yuma for three years and I had no idea people could survive in 120-degree weather.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds terrible. How did you manage to live there? I love being outside too much for that.”
“Well, most of my hobbies are done while in air-conditioning. It wasn’t too bad.”
“My family is from the Northeast, so I grew up only having a few months of beautiful weather per year. After going to college in California, I couldn’t go back. I decided I’m not the typical nerd who likes to stay inside. I love the fresh air.”
I grinned at her. “Ouch.”
“Sorry, not sorry.”
“But seriously though, I can see that. We keep our server rooms pretty chilly, so I’ve been known to enjoy a hike or two on the weekends. Do you like to hike?”
“I do.”
“Maybe we can do that next time.” My confidence grew as I saw her blush in reply. Maybe this whole talking to women thing wasn’t that hard after all. I should approach it like I do anything else. If there was a formula, I just needed to figure out what it was and follow the steps. Just like fitness. Just like Witcher quests. Just like network stabilization.
“I’d like that.”
I held up a finger. Next step, make her laugh. “Well, first we have to see if we both tell Amy it’s a good match. Otherwise, she won’t book us on a second date.”
She giggled and looked at her hands, then back up and met my eyes. “The odds are in our favor, from what I can tell so far.”
“Same here.” Paranoid that an awkward silence would grow out of a nice moment, I racked my brain for another topic. “So, uh, why didn’t you think you’d want to date a Marine?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t want to offend you.”
“Oh, trust me, I have pretty thick skin.”
“Okay. But just remember, you asked for it.”
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
She poked my bicep. “Physically, you’re exactly what I pictured. It’s a stereotypical look. I guess I just didn’t expect you to also be a nerd. It’s quite the contrast. I have to say I’m surprised. Most nerds don’t look like they live at the gym.”
I sighed. “I was pretty scrawny in high school. You wanna talk about stereotypes? I was the stereotypical wimpy kid.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. My Marine recruiter found me in a video game store my junior year. He was a gamer, too. You’d be surprised how many nerds are hiding behind their guns in the Marine Corps.”
“Guns?” She asked, holding her thumb and pointer finger in the shape of a gun, then reached out and grabbed my bicep just like Amy had when she’d pretended to hit on me at the coffee shop. “Or guns?”
I swallowed, looking down at her hand and then back to her flirty gaze. “Both. Er, either one.”
Erin threw her head back and cackled. “No way.”
“Oh, way. Most of these dudes are card-carrying dorks who were happy to transform into jarheads if it meant getting women.”
“But not you?”
“I probably let my freak flag fly a little too high. That might contribute to my single status at thirty-five.”
She sighed. “Yeah, well, I can’t say I’m upset that you’re still single.”
It was my turn to blush, which led to an overwhelming urge to ramble. “Oh, uh, yeah, so my recruiter taught me that being fit is all about math. Caloric intake, physical output … every bit of it is achievable within a strict set of parameters. You want more muscles, here’s the formula. You want to run fast and far, here’s the number of hours per week you need to practice to achieve your desired speed and stamina. It’s easy if you do the math. Which, now that I think about it, makes me wonder why the dumb jocks are ripped and the geeks are wimpy. Seems like it should be the other way around, don’t you think?”
When I finally took a breath, Erin snorted. “Oh, yeah. There is definitely a nerd under all of that muscle. I bet your senior year looked a little different than the rest of high school.”
“Well, I didn’t get shoved into lockers anymore. Mostly because I wouldn’t fit, but also because they figured I’d started taking steroids and didn’t want me to rage out on them.”
“Aw,” she covered her mouth with her hand to suppre
ss her giggle, “I’m sorry to laugh.”
“I like your laugh,” I said, smiling at her, and I was rewarded with yet another blush.
Over the course of the date, I really started to enjoy myself. We liked a lot of the same things, bonded over our favorite role-playing franchises (both virtual and board games), and even discovered that we shared a lot of the same taste in sci-fi movies and TV shows. We were similar in that we were both a little bit socially awkward from the outset, but once we got talking about one of our shared interests, the fish were forgotten.
Overall, as I walked her to her car and waved a final goodbye, I figured the date had gone really well. That was until I found myself looking around for Amy as I headed to my own car. I couldn’t help but be disappointed that she was nowhere in sight. An ache in my chest materialized. It felt like something was missing, which was silly because I shouldn’t miss something that wasn’t mine to miss. Regardless, it might be a red flag that I was looking for another woman at the end of a date. Maybe that meant it wasn’t so great after all.
As I pulled onto the I-5 freeway toward Oceanside, my dashboard’s caller ID display lit up with Mother Dearest next to the tiny phone icon. I answered her call with the hands-free button on my steering wheel. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie. Did I catch you at an okay time?”
“Yeah, I’m just on my way home.”
“From a date?” Hope dripped from her tone.
“Yes, Mom.”
She let out a little squeal of delight. “How did it go? Is that matchmaker of yours actually doing her job now?”
“It was good,” I replied, checking my blind spot before I changed lanes. It surprised me that I wanted to defend Amy against the slight dig, but I swallowed back the urge.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Do you think you’ll go out on a second date?”
I thought back to Erin’s sweet smile and the way she batted her eyelashes at me from behind her glasses. She was attractive and funny and we had a lot in common. She reminded me of some of my best friends and I figured she’d probably fit in really well with our group. Especially considering her love of RPG’s in many forms.
But as far as falling in love with her, there was just something … missing.
Besides, if I stopped going on dates—if I stopped needing a matchmaker—I would also stop having a reason to talk to Amy. And I just wasn’t ready for that.
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t go on a second date with her,” I said carefully. “But I’m still open to seeing who else Amy has for me to meet. She’s really great. I trust her judgment.”
“Oh, do you?”
Warmth spread through my chest just thinking about her and I swallowed. “Yeah.”
“And does she seem to get you, sweetheart? I don’t mean to overstep, but I really hope she understands how smart you are and that you need someone who’s on your level. You’re handsome, but you don’t need a trophy wife. You need someone who can keep up with your brain. Does she get that?”
I rolled my eyes, completely uncomfortable. “Yes, Mom. Amy gets me. The woman she set me up with today liked a lot of the same stuff I do. Amy and I have talked a lot about my past, too. And she knows about … Japan.”
“Oh, interesting. But did you open up to her? You have a tendency to keep things bottled up. You didn’t gloss over it and try to act tough, did you? If she’s good at her job she will have seen right through that, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know. I guess I opened up. I’m comfortable telling her stuff.”
She made a noise of approval. “That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah. When we talk it’s like she’s really trying to figure me out. She cares a lot about her job. At first, I thought it was weird for someone to want to get in the middle of people’s business like this, but it’s not about people’s business to her. It’s about making people happy. Anyway, like I said, I trust her. We’ve been talking a lot lately.”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat too long, and I frowned at the touch screen on my dashboard to see if the call was still connected. It was. Maybe I’d driven through a dead zone?
“Mom? Did I lose you?” I asked.
“Dexter Harrington. Have you fallen for your matchmaker?”
I balked. “What? Of course not.”
“Honey, I haven’t heard you string so many sentences together about a woman since Japan. Be honest with me. You’re my son. I know you better than anyone. Has Amy the Matchmaker caught your eye?”
I could lie to her, but she’d probably call me out for it. “Mom, it doesn’t matter if Amy has ‘caught my eye.’ I’m sure she catches the eye of every client she has.”
“Well, what is she like? Is she that pretty?”
I immediately wanted to disagree with that phrasing. She wasn’t simply pretty. The first word that came to my mind was beautiful. But she was so much more than that, too. She was kind, smart, funny, and had a sassy attitude that made me want to squeeze her, as dumb as that sounded.
She wasn’t into video games or Star Trek or really anything else that I was into, but I didn’t care. Over the last month of getting to know her since our very first coffee date, I’d come to realize that I would talk about anything she wanted to talk about, as long as we were talking. And that probably made me pathetic since it was her job to connect with her clients. She probably didn’t think anything more of our connection than she did with her other clients.
“She’s great, Mom,” I finally said, having realized that I still hadn’t answered her question. “But again, she’s the matchmaker, not one of my matches.”
“Well, Dex, I have to say. I’m the one paying for this, and if Amy is the one you want, I think you need to go ahead and tell her.”
“Mom, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to ask out my matchmaker. She plans dates for me to go on with other women. She doesn’t want to be one of those women.”
“You don’t know that.”
I could just see the expression on my mom’s face, one hand pointing a knowing finger at me and the other hand on her hip.
“Mom, imagine if every client who had a thing for her asked her out. That would be so annoying.”
“Not every client is you, Dex. You’re special.”
I sighed. “You’re my mom. You’ve been telling me how special I was since I was a pimply-faced loser in high school who had no hope of getting a girl.”
“You’ve never been a loser, son. And you’re not that pimply-faced boy anymore. Give it a shot. Like Dad always said, what do you have to lose?”
16
Amy
“You went on a date with your client? And it happened two weeks ago and you’re just now telling me about it?” Claire hissed, glancing nervously around the office. “Are you nuts?”
I waved my hand in front of her face and shushed her. “Girl. Hush. Are you trying to get me fired?”
We got up from the couch in the center of our open-concept office space and scurried into my suite. I closed the heavy glass door behind us and tried to act cool in case anyone had watched us book it out of the common area so fast. Smoothing my pencil skirt as I went, I crossed to my desk and sat across from my best friend. Her mouth was still hanging open, and I glared at her, causing her to close it with an audible snap.
“Okay, so, I didn’t go out on a date with him,” I explained, splaying my hands on my desk between us, trying to ground myself in reality. “His date with Jordan didn’t go well—obviously—and she left. So he invited me to hang out since we were both there and I didn’t have another client for a couple of hours. I didn’t go out on a date with him … I just finished the date he was already on.”
“You finished the date. With your client.”
“Yes.”
“Your client’s match left, so you stepped in and finished the date.”
I lowered my forehead to the desk. “I know.”
“Amy, you know Julia has a strict rule against dating t
he clients. Like, even flirting. Remember Sara Smith? She’d been here for years and got booted just for flirting. And you actually had a date with the guy?”
I held up a finger. “She did not get booted just for flirting. That was a whole thing.”
“Fine, long story short, she got booted for flirting and then for creating a client profile for her twin sister and then going on the date with him herself.”
“Exactly. Also she didn’t even have a twin sister.”
“It actually isn’t that far from finishing a date with your client, if you ask me. What the heck would make you say yes to that invitation? It’s not like it was the first time a client has asked you out.”
Claire was right. If I had a dime for every time one of my clients had turned their attention on me, I wouldn’t have to constantly trade used books at Claire’s store like a broke college kid. I could collect those fancy hardcovers at Barnes & Noble that cost as much as a steak dinner. Or I could splurge on rare first editions by my favorite authors to display in the spare bedroom I’d have converted into my own personal library. I’d be like Belle without the Beast. Just little old me and the library of libraries. Seriously, it wasn’t just me being conceited. It was true for all of the matchmakers at First Comes Love.
As a general rule, Julia wanted her matchmakers to be energetic, easygoing, entertaining, creative, and well … attractive. It was part of her recipe for success. We’d all had admirers from our client pool because part of our job was to make people like and trust us. If they liked and trusted us, they were more open to letting us help them in their romantic endeavors. But as common as it was for our clients to crush on us, we knew better than to let it be a mutual thing. Do that, and you’re out the door. So what was I thinking spending time with Dex like that?
Ugh, and it wasn’t just spending time with him after his date. It was the texting, too. Ever since that day at the zoo, we’d somehow managed to get into a texting conversation that lasted way too long at least every other day. Okay, fine—every day. But I couldn’t admit that to Claire. She’d die.
A Match for the Marine: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (First Comes Love Book 1) Page 10
