I start pulling dresses off the hangers that I have hung over the back of the door and trying them on. One after another they go one, come off, and hit the bathroom floor.
Where is my bestie when I need her?!
Sigh. Kay is busy doing wedding shit. Like she has been for almost a year now. She wasn't even able to be part of my team for this crazy process I've been going through for the last few months.
But she is the reason I found Raven Swann. And Raven Swann is the reason I'm about to meet the man I will probably marry. And meeting the man I will probably marry is the reason I can't decide what to fucking wear!
Breathe, Kim, breathe!
I drop another dress on the floor in a blur of burgundy and grab the puddle of teal back up in a daze.
The phone rings and I look down at it sitting on the edge of the sink. It's Mom. Oh shit, it's Mom. Mom is who's coming to get me to take me to meet him...what's his name?
"Mom?!" I can't pick the phone up because my hands are busy behind me trying to zip up this dress and my brain somehow has decided that my hands must keep doing what they're doing...I hear an internal voice counting down to imminent melt down...I use my elbow to tap the screen and immediately start screaming at my mother, "What's his name? I can't remember his name!"
"Ryan." Mom's voice is clear and calm and business as usual in a way that totally fails to calm me down.
"His name is Ryan, Honey," Mom says like it's any other blind date, or like she's known him forever.
I manage to knock my phone into the bathroom sink with my elbow shenanigans, but I got the zipper of the dress all the way up so I consider it a win. Besides, the sink is dry, no harm, no foul.
Of course, Mom has known Ryan for awhile now. About 6 months, in fact. Mom knows Ryan, she know his brother, she knows his parents, and she knows his high school baseball coach-- because those are the people he chose to pick a wife for him and they are the people who've been interviewing me for almost 6 months now.
"Are you almost ready?" Mom's calmness is doing nothing for my nerves, "I'm just getting ready to leave for your place, your sister is going to meet us there."
"Um," I look around my bathroom frantically, trying to assess the situation, "yeah, almost, Mom. I'll see you in a few."
Lies! I tell my mother lies! I'm nowhere near ready. I'm not even sure I like this dress.
"OK, Hun," Mom says, "I'll be there in a little bit."
The line goes dead and I realize I have about half an hour before she's knocking on my door. Shit! I don't have time to find anything better to wear, this dress will have to do.
I manage to turn my naturally wild curls into soft ringlets without burning myself, apply mascara without stabbing myself in the eye, and then drown my cell phone when I turn on the water without looking before remembering that the thing is still in the sink.
Wrapping it in a towel, I run for the kitchen and throw it into the rice, hoping for the best while I start the hunt for shoes.
About a month after Kay got engaged, she finally got in my face and gave me hell till I admitted I was jealous of her and Brent.
I'm sure it wasn't a big surprise, she got all her bride magazines from me, after all.
While Kay was spending her early 20s going out clubbing and dating and enjoying being single until she got sick of the scene and got serious about finding the right guy, I've been planning my wedding since I was a kid.
I've had a subscription to Modern Bride since my first boyfriend my freshman year of high school.
By the time I was 20, I'd already figured out that love is just like team sports-- girls like me don't get picked first.
Meeting Kay in college was a painful reminder of just how unfair life can be. Then I watched her go through a ton of losers who never saw past her body. I helped her eat a lot of ice cream and drink a lot of wine while we nursed each other through a string of broken hearts.
OK-- most of mine were over guys who didn't even know I existed, but unrequited love is still love, and those heart breaks when which ever crush changed his relationship status were just as rough.
So Kay is how I found out about Raven Swann. All this time, I thought Kay and Brent had met through a pretty ordinary dating website. I guess I wasn't paying that much attention to the details.
Turns out, they were matched by a professional marriage broker.
Kay gave me her number when I finally poured my heart out to her about how over dating I am. How bad I wish I could just find a good man-- the right man-- skip the drama and the bullshit, settle down and start a family.
I can't believe I didn't pay more attention when Kay was going through the process, but we were living in different cities at the time while I worked on my masters degree.
That's why she says she didn't have me on her "team," the group of people from your personal life that Raven uses to help find your perfect mate.
Just like Kay didn't get to be on my team because of her wedding planning.
There's a knock on my front door and I hear my mom calling my name.
I hop-run to the door with one shoe on and unlock it for her.
"Is that what you're wearing?" My mother says with that unmistakable mom-voice that makes it abundantly clear that what I'm wearing is not what she thinks I should be wearing.
I stand up and look at her, my hips uneven, with one knee bent so I can even out my stance between the bare right foot and the left foot that has the 3 inch heel on, and start bawling.
Ryan
Suddenly I'm thinking this was a bad idea.
I mean, I've already paid a ton of money to a professional match maker to meet this woman, I've talked the people I trust most in this world to help the match maker find me a bride, and I've spent the last 6 months being interviewed by people who were talked into finding a husband for some woman who's hoping to get the same thing out of this that I am-- a short cut to happily ever after.
Except it doesn't feel like a fucking short cut. It feels like the longest damn 6 months of my entire life.
I've met this girl's mother, sister, 2 co-workers, and a sorority sister. I feel like I know everything about Kim's life except for how Kim herself fits into it.
My brother, Jake, stands outside the bowling alley with me, checking his phone and returning texts as they come in while I pace back and forth on the sidewalk.
"Dude, chill," he tells me.
Easy for him to say. He's not the one who's about to meet his future wife for the first time.
I grunt at him.
"You're gonna like her, Rye," he says, putting his phone back in his pocket, "she's really cool."
I roll my eyes, "'Cool,' I repeat, great, we all know what that means."
Jake leans against one of the concrete pillars and shakes his head at me.
It's not like I'm hoping for someone who looks like Brent's fiance. Shit, I don't even think I want a girl that looks like Kay. Too high maintenance for my tastes.
No. I like my women a little more real. A little unique. With her personality showing through her style, not just another carbon copy of every other girl at the bar or where ever girls go that they all seem to dress the same.
But my brother's "cool" comment worries me. Guys don't call hot chicks "cool." "Cool" is what you call a girl who's one of the guys-- a chick who watches science fiction movies with you and likes sports. Not that those are bad things, but they rarely come in packages that make your dick too hard to finish watching the game.
I can't help thinking that Kay is probably the exception to the rule when it comes to the type of chicks who hire a match maker to set them up with an arranged marriage.
I trust Jake's taste in women when it comes to knowing what kind of girl would get along with me and fit in with our family but I'm not so sure he'd have my back when it came to the looks department.
That's what I have Joe for, I remember myself. My old coach and I stayed tight after graduation. He was always trying to pick out cute girls for me to dat
e back in school-- told me he was too old to go after them himself, so he had to live vicariously through me.
Joe said he's on board with the family on this Kim chick being the right girl for me if I'm serious about going through with this plan. Joe knows me, he knows what I like in a girl, so I should be able to relax a little.
Of course, that doesn't mean I do.
"Why'd we have to come all the way out here to go bowling?" I ask Jake.
"No bar," he says without looking up from his phone.
"No bar? What kind of bowling alley doesn't have a bar?"
"The kind you get to go to for your first date with your Amish girlfriend," he quips.
"Ahhhm--?" It's my brother. I know better than to take him seriously but, under the circumstances...
"Chillax, dude," Jake pushes himself off the pillar and comes over to me, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me roughing, "I got your back on this wife thing. You have to trust me or you wouldn't have put me on your team, right?"
I think about it for a minute, not entirely sure if that's the case. I mean, it was-- months ago when I had to hand over a list of people I trusted for the job. Now I'm not so sure.
"No booze on the first meeting, remember?" Jake slaps me on the back and gives me one of those worried big brother looks I've been seeing my whole life, "And chaperoned like you're in junior high, man, that's why I'm stuck with you."
"We could have just gone to the bowling alley in town and not had anything to drink," I point out.
Jake shrugs, "I don't think your chaperons are supposed to drink either."
"You really can't bowl 10 frames without a beer in your hand?" I ask sarcastically.
"Why would I want to?"
Jake's cell phone makes the obnoxious noise he keeps as his text notification and after checking it, he looks up and scans the parking lot.
"They're here," he says nonchalantly as he heads toward a trio of woman who are walking toward us.
OK. I know Stacy and Crystal, that's Kim's mom and sister. Seeing familiar-- and friendlier than Jake's-- faces helps with the nerves a little bit.
I try to decide if I should go out with Jake and meet them before they get up to the sidewalk where I'm standing in front of the bowling alley.
Jake hugs Crystal first, then Stacey, then the petite redhead walking with them.
It doesn't take much work to do the math. Since I already know the other two, the redhead has to be her.
Her.
I swallow hard and try to dry my sweating palms on my pants.
Shit.
She's cute.
Not like cute cute, like wow cute. Like, I can't believe she's here to meet me cute. Like, there's no way this girl is going to agree to marry me cute.
The woman I'm going to marry is 5 feet tall without those heels on-- if she's lucky. Her hair is a mass of soft ringlets cut in a blunt bob that falls just above her shoulders. They bounce with her steps as she walks-- and her curls aren't the only thing that bounce.
Kim's got a sweet figure on her and she's wearing a dark green dress that shows it off. I watch as one hell of an hour glass of pale skin and freckles makes its way toward me.
Now is about the time I start thinking I shoulda jacked off before I left the house because damn if my dick doesn't start to perk up at the sight of her.
She's wearing glasses too. Just simple black frames that give her a sort of retro, pin up, naughty librarian thing going on. The glasses, the hair, the skin, the tits...and full, pouty lips done up in a shade of red that looks like sin...stick a fucking fork in me. I'm done.
Kimberly
"Huh?"
OK, that's the third time he's said that. Maybe I'm not so impressed after all.
Ryan stares blankly in my general direction and responds to yet another question with a grunted "huh" that has me expecting him to start drooling any minute.
It seems that everyone forgot to mention my future husband's lobotomy.
Damn. He's really cute, but if he can't string a full sentence together I don't think I can go through with this.
"Dude," Jake shoulder checks his vapid brother in the back, sending Ryan off balance and crashing against me.
"Uh, sorry," Ryan apologizes, not managing to make himself sound any smarter, as he catches himself before he falls and probably takes me down with him.
His brother rolls his eyes behind Ryan's back and shakes his head. I try to suppress the urge to giggle. At least it gives me a clue that maybe Ryan's not behaving exactly normally.
"I'm Ryan," Ryan says shyly as he holds out his hand for me to shake. He immediately winces, "Sorry, you knew that," he tells me as he acknowledges that several of the things he's answered with "huh" were actually introductions.
"Kim," I remind him, in case he's already forgotten my name.
I think we're shaking hands a little too long but I can't seem to remember how to stop. His eyes are really pretty, a soft hazel brown that's easy to stare into. Well, not too easy to stare into, he's gotta be a whole foot taller than me. Not that that's uncommon since I hit 5 foot 1 if I stand up really straight.
My mom is saying something and I hear Stacy and Jake laugh.
"I think they're laughing at us," Ryan whispers as we continue to stand and look at each other while the rest of our party heads inside.
"Probably," I answer, feeling a little shy.
"Maybe we're supposed to go bowling?" He sounds like he's not entirely sure about that and, frankly, I'm not either but that's where we are and everyone else has gone inside so I shrug slightly and wait for Ryan to move.
Neither of us seem in a big hurry.
Ryan still has my hand. We're not really shaking anymore-- well, that's not entirely true, I'm definitely a little shaky-- it's more like holding hands now. I'm so lost in his eyes. I'm starting to notice the little inconsistencies in the color, the way the hazel is really a bright gold just around the edges of his pupils that darkens to a deep brown.
I watch his pupils dilate slightly and I feel him pull my hand just a little, bringing me closer to him.
Men do not look at me like this. I can't think of one boy that has ever looked at me the way Ryan is looking at me right now.
It feels magical.
Ryan's face dips toward mine, just slightly, but I think he might be planning on kissing me.
For the record, I am totally OK with him kissing me. Right here, outside the bowling alley, like we're a couple of 13 year olds waiting for our parents to pick us up.
My sister pops her head back out the door of the building, "What size shoes do you need?" she yells at me, totally ruining the moment.
In a second I'm back to reality. Ryan's hand drops mine and suddenly there's space between us that wasn't there a minute ago. Space that feels cold and empty.
"We're coming," I grumble loud enough for Stacy to hear as Ryan and I both head inside.
Stacy holds the door open and waits, giving me a knowing sisterly stare as I walk past her.
"Not on my watch, sis," she says just loud enough for me to hear as we follow Ryan to the shoe rental counter.
I elbow her fiercely in the ribs and I know how bad I must be blushing when she howls with laughter.
"You know my shoe size," I seethe in her ear as we wait for our shoes.
Stacy turns to me with a shit-eating grin that really warrants another jab but I don't need her calling any more attention to our private conversation.
"I told you, no coming on my watch," she says in a downright sinister tone with a wink.
This is what I get for putting my baby sister on the team to find me a husband.
"What are you girls giggling about?" Mom demands as we join the rest of the party at our lanes.
"Nothing!" I answer way too fast, sending Stacy into a fit of giggles and me into another bout of blushing that has to look horrible with my coloring.
Oh God, why did my sister have to come on this date with us?
For that matter, why did
anyone have to come on this date with us? Except Jake. Jake's cool. After months of interviews, I know Jake. Having someone from Ryan's team here really eases the stress. But then, so would a martini.
Of course our chaperons had to find the only bowling alley in the country that doesn't have a bar. Which is fine, I guess. After all, our first date is supposed to be clean, sober, and under supervision. Reminding me of just how much like being in junior high this really feels.
When I have my ugly-ass, rented bowling alley shoes laced up I find a ball that doesn't feel too heavy or too light and set it on the ball return thingamajig with everyone else's weapons of choice. That's when I notice Stacy scolding Ryan about something and then see his face blush a deep scarlet.
Apparently I'm not my sister's only victim tonight.
Ryan
Bowling is more fun than I expected. Maybe because Stacy feels a lot like a little sister already, mostly by running interference. Maybe because Crystal is easy going and kinda feels like she's on my side, trying to keep her youngest daughter from getting in between me and Kim. Maybe because Jake is too busy texting whatever chick he's currently banging to give me grief.
Whatever the reason, the dynamic between all of us feels like family. Except Kim and I. Kim and I feel like strangers.
Which we are.
We're doing this all backward and that's not helping things go any smoother.
Normally we'd meet up and go out just the two of us. Get to know each other, maybe end up at my place with her dress on the floor and my face between her legs.
Point is, this whole meet the family first plan is stressing us both out and it doesn't help that everyone keeps mentioning our wedding like it's a foregone conclusion.
I guess it kinda is though.
All I really want to do is steal Kim away to someplace quiet where we can talk in private and get to know each other as well as we've gotten to know each other's families.
OK, I also want to watch the way she wiggles her ass as she lines up her throw...and maybe run my hand over it.
A Lucky Break: A Modern Match-Maker Romance Page 2
