She took my arm, reached up, and gently touched my lip. "Ouch." She made a show of wincing. "Apparently I don't know my own strength and passion. I gave you a fat lip with the ferocity of my kiss."
I looked down at her and pulled her into my arms. "Is that what you call it?" I touched her lip. "You have a fat lip, too."
"I guess that makes you just as fierce a kisser." She tilted her head. "Romance novels always talk about kisses so hard and passionate they make the heroine's lips puffy."
"Not this puffy, I'm guessing." I angled in for a kiss, going slowly, leery of another bump in the tracks.
"No one kisses as passionately as us, apparently." She touched my lips, took my chin in her hand, and leaned in for a kiss, a very gentle kiss.
It wasn't exactly what I'd originally had in mind, but I was wary of hurting her again. I was no vampire. Now that I'd had a taste of her blood, I didn't want more. I wanted to heal her. Protect her.
My lip still throbbed, but damn, it felt good to be kissing her.
"Is that the best you can do?" she whispered against my mouth.
"Hell no." I hesitated. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Shut up about hurting me and just kiss me." She pressed herself against me and opened her mouth to me.
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her then. Really kissed her.
We kissed until we lost track of time. I never wanted to let go.
When we finally pulled away, she touched my lip gently again. "Don't ever let yourself believe you're not a great kisser." She had the most beautiful, and devilish, grin.
My breath caught. My pulse raced. "We're dangerous together."
She stared into my eyes. "Are we?" She laughed. "And that's a bad thing?"
Could she actually see a bit of a badass in me?
"By our own admission, we're accident magnets. When the two of us are together, is anyone safe?"
"You're looking at it all wrong." The windows were dark behind her. Shadows and stars raced by outside. "These accidents would happen whether we're there or not. Our presence means help's available. You noticed that we were the only ones who jumped to help that old woman? Everyone else was too busy with themselves and their own."
I nodded. "That's one way of looking at it."
"It's the only way of looking at it." Her smile was swollen, but beautiful. She winced. "The two of us together are twice the help, twice the force of good."
I handed her into her seat. She grabbed her purse, pulled a tube of lip gloss and a small mirror from it, uncapped the gloss, and examined her injury. "I really do have a split lip."
"You were in doubt?"
She smiled and capped the lip gloss again. "I hoped it wasn't as bad as it feels. No amount of lip gloss is going to cover this. You're going to have to live with a date with a fat lip."
"Same for you." I kneeled beside her. "With or without a fat lip, you're beautiful. With a fat lip, you're beautiful and dangerous."
She laughed. "Now I know why you got honors at charm school—you do know how to flatter a girl."
12
Ashley
A matchmaker isn't supposed to be nervous when a pair of her clients is out on a date. Certainly not matchmakers of my experience. And yet, as I waited in the lobby of a swanky waterfront seafood restaurant for my potential client to show up for our interview, I was, terribly. Worse, I was as nervous as a mother sending her firstborn out on his first date. Would the girl like him? Reject him? Break his heart? Seduce him? Would my boy blow it because of nerves? Would his stutter show up? Would Crystal's expectations be too high?
For me, Jeremy taking Crystal out on a second date was the equivalent of a big presentation to the boss, a career-making presentation. But even worse, the stress was also personal.
I took a seat on a plush bench in front of a gas fireplace and checked my phone for messages. Nothing. I was early, as I generally was, so there was really no reason to expect a message from Knox, the old friend I was meeting. I was nervous about this meeting, too, but for different reasons.
Jeremy was one of my favorite men in the world, along with Lazer, Cam, Austin, and Dylan. All of these guys had my heart. I'd do anything for them.
I was fully aware of how much Jeremy liked Crystal and the pressure he put on himself. Pressure brought out his stutter and insecurity. I didn't want that. I was also aware of how much he had imbued Crystal with an idealized fantasy quality since meeting her at that accident scene. He was convinced she was the one. I was, too. But I wanted him to see that the real Crystal was the one, not something he'd made her up to be in his mind.
As a matchmaker, it's my job to pair people. To coach and advise them. To have a feel for when a couple has the real thing. Even though I hadn't been the one to match them, when Austin met his wife Blair, I'd had that feeling and had to coach him through challenges to win her heart. He'd been impatient. It was a common trait among that group of friends.
Most of the time, couples get to that place of knowing the other is who they want to spend their life with one date at a time. They just keep dating until either one or both decide it's not working or they decide they don't want to be apart anymore and make a commitment.
Some couples start out in the state where it's obvious to everyone that they belong together. You wouldn't think that would pose a problem. But sometimes when things are too obviously right, the immediate high expectations add stress that strangles the relationship, that impedes the natural progress a relationship should make. That makes people impatient.
I didn't want anything to go wrong for Jeremy and Crystal. I found myself holding my breath. I forced myself not to text Jeremy and see how things were going.
I reminded myself that for all his early nerdiness, Jeremy had a year's experience in the dating world. I had very few complaints from the many dates he'd been on. And even then, most of the complaints were the kind that couldn't be helped—the chemistry simply wasn't there. He was more attractive than he thought. More attractive than I let him know. A little insecurity and humility kept him on his toes.
"Ashley?"
I looked up to the source of the deep, masculine voice and my breath caught, catching me by surprise. "Knox!" I rose to hug my old friend. "So good to see you! It's been ages."
"You wouldn't know it by looking at you, Ash. You're gorgeous and as young as ever. Just as I remember you." His hand was surprisingly warm at the small of my back.
He must have been remembering a happier me from when Ruck was still alive. At least, I hoped he was. The last few times I'd seen Knox, I'd been a grieving widow, deep in mourning. I'd looked pretty haggard and older than my years.
"Flatterer." I stepped back and held him at arm's length to get a better look at him. In the dim restaurant lighting, he was every bit as handsome as ever. "Father Time's been kind to you, too."
Knox was one of my late husband Ruck's best military buddies. I'd promised Ruck that I would look out for Knox and find him a match if he ever decided he was ready to settle down. Knox had always been handsome, but now he had presence, and the confident bearing of a military man and successful businessman. Former military, in his case. He'd been injured in the line of duty, the fingers blown off his left hand to the bottom knuckles by a landmine. After the incident, he'd been offered desk duty or an honorable discharge due to injury. He'd taken the discharge. That all happened shortly after Ruck's death.
Even now, it was hard not to stare at his truncated left hand. A hand where a wedding ring should someday reside if I did my job right, but wouldn't. There was no finger left for it. Knox would never wear a wedding ring to indicate he was taken. Some men didn't. But the Knox I knew would have, at least in daily life. Some woman would have to love him fiercely enough for it not to matter to her.
I took his arm. "What is a hot man like you doing coming to enlist the aid of a matchmaker like me?"
He grinned and guided me toward the reservation desk. "Engaging the best."
"Good answer. But I shouldn't th
ink you'd need any help in that department. The Knox I knew had to fight the ladies off."
"Now who's the flatterer?" Knox gave his name to the hostess. We followed her to a table by the windows, with a view of the sound sparkling and reflecting the city lights. He held my chair for me. His nearly fingerless left hand did little to slow him down.
We settled in with our menus and glasses of water. Again, I was struck by how well he seemed to be coping with the loss of his fingers. He held the menu adeptly. Though it was odd from my side not to see fingers.
A cocktail waitress appeared almost immediately. We ordered drinks. I had the feeling I'd need one.
"Seriously, Ash, how are you doing?" Knox's dark eyes sparkled in the candlelight, serious and sincere. He'd had always been a loyal and concerned friend. His gaze flicked to the ring on my left hand. "You're engaged."
I nodded. "Yes. And very happy."
"I didn't think you'd ever get over Ruck."
It would have been easy to take offense at his statement. Coming from someone else, it could have sounded like an accusation. Like I'd forgotten the man who'd given his life for his country. But coming from Knox, it was a simple statement of fact. The Ashley he'd known had wanted to die when Ruck had. How had that woman managed to move on?
"You don't get over someone like Ruck, losing your husband and the man who was your life." I took a breath. "All you can do is move on. It's been six years."
"So why are you sitting here with me, working on a Friday night instead of out with your billionaire?"
I laughed. "You've done your homework."
"There are only so many billionaires in the city," he said. "They're all high-profile and in the news more often than not. So are you."
"Lazer's out of town on business." I took a sip of my water. "Business dinners on a Friday night are a common enough occurrence for me when he's away. He has business interests all over the world. He travels a lot. Why shouldn't I interview an old friend as a potential client? It's better than sitting at home alone."
He laughed. "Thanks. I think."
I smiled and took another drink. "Seriously, Knox, why a matchmaker? Why now? Why me?"
"You ask a lot of questions."
"It's my job."
He nodded. "It's time. I'm getting older. I've been out of the service for over four years."
"Time does fly." I set my water down. I hadn't seen Knox in nearly that long, but it suddenly seemed like only yesterday that we were both mourning Ruck. I felt a twinge of guilt that I'd been too deep in my grief to be much help to Knox when he'd been injured. To be fair, he'd shut me out, shut everyone out, after the explosion. If a warrior like Knox shuts you out, there isn't much you can do about it.
"Time heals all, right?" He looked contemplative, which wasn't usual for Knox. "We both needed that time."
"True enough." I paused. "I don't remember you saying. How long have you been back?"
"Just," he said. "I contacted you as soon as I decided to move back home to the good old Pacific Northwest. Dad's frail these days. Mom can't handle him. It was time I stepped up and stepped in to help. I can run my business from anywhere."
"Sorry about your dad."
Knox shrugged. "Blame time again. Dad's had plenty of it. He's old. It's life. The thought of him passing has made me realize I'd like kids of my own. I don't want to be old, family-less, and lonely."
"That makes sense," I said. "Can I add 'wants kids' to your dossier?"
His smile was gorgeous. "Yeah. Do. They're important to me."
"A deal breaker if a woman doesn't want them?"
"Yeah. After my accident, I worked my ass off. Working gave me a purpose. Kept me too busy to dwell on my misfortunes." He didn't sound sorry for himself in the slightest. "I've made good money. I can ease off the long hours some now. I have time for a wife and family." He laughed.
"You mean time to find a wife," I said. "First steps first."
"Even back when, before you became an official matchmaker, you had a knack for pairing people up. Ruck used to joke about it. Said he had to go to too many damned weddings because of your meddling."
I laughed, and swallowed a lump at the memory. "He did indeed."
"I told him until he returned the favor and was the best man in my wedding, he'd better plan on attending at least one more."
"I'm sorry he won't get to see you tie the knot." I had a hard time speaking. "He'd get a kick out of it, especially if I'm the one to find you your woman."
Fortunately, our drinks arrived just then. I needed one. This trip down memory lane was rattling my nerves. I thought I'd said goodbye to Ruck and successfully moved on last fall.
We leaned back as the waitress set our drinks in front of us. I was more emotional than I thought I'd be seeing Knox again.
He and Ruck were best friends and so similar in personality and sense of humor that it was eerie. In looks a little, too. They were both tall, athletic, and strong with military bearing. Thrill-seekers. Men of duty and honor. Loyal. Talking with Knox was like seeing a glimpse of Ruck again, and struck me harder than I could have imagined.
Part of me wondered if I could handle playing matchmaker for Knox. When he first contacted me, the thought crossed my mind that I should turn him down and refer him to someone else. But I'd promised Ruck. I'd made a vow to Ruck that I would always look after his brothers in arms, and specifically Knox. They'd made the same promise to look after me if I ever needed their help. I wouldn't break that vow now. There was no way I could turn Knox away, not even if I wanted to.
We ordered appetizers and our meals.
After the waitress left, Knox lifted his glass. "To Ruck's memory."
I clinked mine to his. "To Ruck." My voice broke. I took a bigger sip than I'd take ordinarily. I needed it. "I appreciate your faith in me. But if you've just moved back, you haven't even given yourself a shot at the dating scene here or tested the waters."
"I'm the new guy in town."
"You're the prodigal son," I teased. "This is your hometown."
"I've been gone a long time. I've lost touch with most of my old friends, most of whom are married and don't have the skill you do for matchmaking anyway." He took another sip of his drink. "The thought of a bunch of bad blind dates made by well-meaning friends scares the shit out of me." He held up his left hand. "Pity dates, even worse. I take it you'll explain this for me beforehand. A one-handed man is a deal breaker for some women."
"Not for the right woman," I said. "And you're not exactly one-handed."
"You're going to get technical on me?" He laughed like the old Knox. "Short a few fingers. Does that sell it better?"
"Marginally." Our gazes locked. "You're not a leftie, if I remember right. You can still do what you need to do with your right hand. And you seem pretty adept with your left still, too."
"You do. And I can." He raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Ash. What do you think I'm doing here? Taking pity on you? Throwing cash your way? You don't need me. You're so busy I had a damned hard time getting in to see you. That screener of yours—"
"Lottie."
"She's tough. If you and I weren't friends, I'd be on the waiting list. Take pity on me. Find me a woman." He grunted like a caveman. "I promise to be the perfect client."
"There's no such thing as a perfect client. And I know you too well to believe a promise like that."
He laughed. "Come on, Ash. What do you say?"
I shook my head. "It could be uncomfortable for you. You'll have to discuss women with me instead of Ruck. You'll have to talk about your feelings and think about what you really want in a relationship. You'll have to be honest. And sincere and serious in your pursuit of a wife. I'll insist you follow my matchmaking rules, of which there are many, and follow my instructions. Can you live with all that?"
"Live with it?" He leaned toward me. "I'm looking forward to it."
I smiled and took a deep breath. "All right, then. Let's get started. What are you looking for in a wife?"
13
Crystal
Portland is a city that revels in its quirkiness, self-proclaiming its weirdness and taking pride in it. It's Seattle's wacky cousin to the south. A city that touts its locally sourced goods. And by locally sourced, they mean locally sourced, as in sourced in the city itself. "Locally sourced" signs are in nearly every shop.
The last time I was in Portland, I picked up an item to look at, I don't even remember what it was now, and the shopkeeper came over to warn me and apologize. "I'm sorry. That's not locally sourced." She winced. "It's made in Eugene."
Which is a city to the south of Portland.
If you're a foodie, or into microbrews, Portland is the city for you. If you're a unicorn hunter looking to spot slightly offbeat trends, like me, it's also the city for you. If you just want to have fun with a hot guy who's planned a surprise date for you, it's perfect.
My heart raced with anticipation as our train pulled into Union Station. With its Romanesque Revival architecture, it had a different feel from King Street Station in Seattle. Union Station was just off the Willamette River in Chinatown. I was guessing our final destination wasn't Old Town Chinatown, but I could be wrong. Most of the interesting breweries were across the river.
"Where are you taking me for this beer?" I took Jeremy's hand as we got off the train.
"You haven't guessed?" He seemed surprised by that.
"No," I said, slowly. "Should I have?"
He shrugged. "Do you want me to spoil the surprise?" He pulled me with him into the station.
"I'll find out soon enough," I said. "Are we going on a Portland pub crawl?"
"You'll see."
A car was waiting for us outside the station.
"Not doing the Portland thing and biking to our destination?" I leaned against him playfully.
"Sorry. No."
I laughed. "Maybe next time."
"Do you like to bicycle?"
"Not that much," I said. "In the park, on a bike trail. Not in city traffic."
"Then no." He led the way to the car and held the door while I got in. He gave no instructions to the driver. Apparently he'd arranged everything ahead of time.
Mr. Accidental Hero: Jet City Matchmaker Series: Jeremy Page 11
