A Lucky Break: A Modern Match-Maker Romance

by Rocklyn Ryder

Actually, I want to run my hand over pretty much all of her.

  I want a chance to touch all that pale, freckled skin. I wonder if her nipples are a pale blush or if they're the darker, rosy color of the freckles that pepper her cleavage.

  Is her pussy shaved bare? Lasered clean? Or does she leave it natural to show off that fiery red hair? I'm sure it's natural, whatwith her pale complexion and all those freckles.

  Her sister doesn't have the freckles and her hair is a pale strawberry blonde. I bet Kimberly spent her whole life hating her sister, thinking Stacy got the superior genetics.

  She couldn't be more wrong. Stacy's an OK looking girl, but there's nothing special about her. Put her in any room full of girls and she'd blend in.

  Kim, on the other hand, Kimberly is one of a kind from her size, to her curves, to those dark copper curls to the way she's dressed.

  I wonder if she has any tattoos? Piercings?

  None that I can see, but I can't wait to take a tour of that body and see what secrets I can uncover.

  "Can I have your number?" Kim sits next to me while Jake takes his turn. Stacy and Crystal are up at the snack counter grabbing sodas and chili cheese fries for everyone.

  She leans over and whispers in my ear like asking for my number is against the rules. As her breath tickles my ear, she slips a pen to me and holds out her hand so I can write my number on it.

  "Give me your phone," I whisper back, careful not to let Jake hear what we're talking about-- in case it is against the rules. I can't remember them all.

  "Oh," Kim makes the cutest little noise and when I turn my head to look at her she's got her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a look that's all apology and at the same time makes my dick hard, "my cell took a bath while I was getting ready, it's at home in rice."

  I can't help but laugh at her a little bit, "Is it OK? I mean, does that work?"

  Kim smiles and nods, sending those curls around her face bouncing. She glances at Jake's back and nudges me with her hand to remind me to hurry up with the digits already.

  Couldn't be happier to oblige. I write my number down on her hand and hope it stays put long enough to get a call from her.

  "When you get home?" I ask with a tap of the pen on her hand.

  Stacy hands out sodas and straws while Crystal sets food down on the table next to us.

  Kim gives me a knowing little smirk and a wink, "as long as the rice works," she mouths at me silently.

  "So have you guys decided when you'll get married?" Stacy jumps right back into to conversation we'd been having before they went to grab food.

  Kim shakes her head the same way she did when her mom asked where we would have the wedding about 20 minutes ago, with a tired little groan that makes me think she doesn't want to talk about it.

  "What about you, Ryan?" Crystal's eyes dart between her older daughter and me as she sips diet Coke through a straw with a raised eyebrow.

  Kim's mom and sister have been talking about our wedding pretty much non-stop since we got here.

  I mean, yeah, I get it. After all, Kim and I did sign up for an arranged marriage. I'm sure her family and friends are excited for her-- God knows my folks haven't shut up about it since they got over the initial shock that I was doing this.

  Still, it's a little uncomfortable talking about getting married to a girl I just met for the first time.

  I mean, shit, we haven't even had a chance to talk to each other privately yet. I haven't kissed her or held her hand even. She just barely got my phone number.

  "Yeah man," Jake finishes his turn and grabs some fries, "you gotta figure this stuff out or all the good places book up."

  My brother sounds like one of the women, joining in with Crystal's suggestions on venues and chipping in his 2 cents on caterers and DJs.

  I didn't realize he'd absorbed so much from his own trip down the aisle. He did it when he was 19 and I remember Mom and Dad doing most of the talking during the planning stages-- but then, I was 15 when Jake got married to Jen. I was paying even less attention than I thought he was.

  Our chaperons are engrossed in the business of planning our wedding for us while I take my turn lobbing the 12 pound ball at the pins at the end of the lane. Putting maybe a little more force into my throw than I usually would.

  When I turn around and head for the seat where I'd been sitting next to Kim, I notice she's gone.

  A surprising surge of panic rises in my chest at her absence. We may not know each other-- at all, really-- but I like her already. I'm looking forward to getting to know her better and it's been nice to feel like I have an ally through the ambush this date has turned into.

  Glancing around, I finally see her down at the end of the building near the restrooms. She's leaning against a wall just inside the alcove that leads to the bathroom doors. I don't think she knows she's still visible from down here, because she's got her head and one shoulder braced against the wall and she looks a little like I feel.

  Like she's doing her best to not snap at someone or run out the door.

  An overwhelming urge to run up after her hits me. I want to wrap her in my arms and take her home. I'd like to snap at her sister, who will not shut up about about flowers and center pieces. At her mom, who will not shut up about guest lists and arranged seating verses open. At my brother, who's just as into the wedding talk with the women as he is about dropping remarks on the sly to me when ever he gets a chance at not being overheard: "Crystal still looks pretty good for her age, maybe you'll get lucky and Kim won't gain a hundred pounds after you start having kids..."

  I want to punch him every time he makes a crude remark or says something shitty about marriage over all.

  Stacy's been whispering in her sister's ear all evening too and I wonder if she's been telling Kim the girl version of all the same crap Jake keeps pestering me with.

  No wonder Kim's hiding from us.

  "Yeah, Rye, have you thought about that yet?" Jake interrupts my thoughts and puts everyone's attention on me.

  "What?" I ask, annoyed when I look back up and see Kim headed out of the bathroom, dabbing at the corner of her eye with the back of her hand.

  "When do you two think you'll start having kids?" Crystal asks and I realize that was what they were talking about while I was watching Kim.

  Reminding myself that the woman is very likely going to be my mother in law, I force myself to calm down and not snap at her. I don't know what it is with moms that they need to have grand kids so damn bad, but I know my own mother hasn't let up on me since Jake had his kids.

  "You know what?" I'm trying to stay conversational, but I know the irritation is evident in my voice, "I don't think we're ready to worry about that yet."

  I stand up and meet Kimberly half way as she rejoins our table, "I think Kim and I still have a lot to talk about before we start talking about kids."

  Kim lets me put my arm around her and it makes me feel like a fucking king. Until she looks up at me with wide eyes when she catches on to the conversation.

  I can tell her eyes are wet, she wasn't just dabbing at makeup when I watched her come out of the bathroom, she was in there crying. Or trying not to cry. I can't tell, and I don't know her that well yet, but it fucking pisses me off knowing she had to run off to get a minute alone.

  She probably feels as trapped as I do.

  Kim steps back out of my reach and grabs her street shoes and starts changing out of the red and blue bowling alley classics.

  "Guys," she says, her voice just a little shaky and it bugs me that I don't know if it's nerves or anger, "thanks for doing the first date chaperon thing for us, but I have work in the morning so I need to get home."

  My watch says it's 8 o'clock. I kick off the rented shoes and lace up my boots, noticing the way Kim doesn't look up at any of us and wondering what's running through her mind while I wonder if she really goes to bed this early on weekdays or if it's just an excuse to get the fuck out of here.

  She's got my pho
ne number but I don't have hers so all I can do now is pray she calls. Hopefully when she gets home.

  Because it's killing me to watch her walk out the door with her mom and sister while I wait on Jake to finish returning texts.

  Kimberly

  All I want to do is grab Ryan's hand and sneak out the back door. We could go somewhere and grab some real food instead of bowling alley snack bar shit and we could have a real conversation and get to know each other.

  I don't even care about having a glass of wine or a cocktail while we do it. A little liquid courage is always nice to kill the jitters on a first date-- especially a first date with the guy your friends and family just decided to marry you off to-- but I don't need it. It'd just be nice to talk to him, you know?

  Oh my God, and speaking of my friends and family marrying me off! OK, so maybe we did pay a professional to set us up and maybe Mom and Stace did just spend several months deciding that Ryan is the man I should marry but for fuck's sake!

  Now that I seem to have caught my breath and don't think I'm going to pass out from hyperventilating, I peel myself off the wall outside the bathroom and head toward the sinks.

  I just had to get out of there. Hopefully they let up when I excused myself and Mom's not hassling poor Ryan about grand kids yet.

  She's seriously out of control-- and so is Stacy-- both of them going on and on about dates and venues for a wedding that Ryan and I haven't even had the chance to talk about yet.

  And Jake!

  I stare at the woman in the mirror. She's not looking so good. Her forehead has worry lines etched over her eyebrows and her eyes are watering like she's about to cry.

  That's not the look of a woman who just met her fiance. That's the look of a woman who's about to lose her shit and call a taxi to take her home.

  Deep breaths.

  Jake's always been cool when I've talked to him. He seemed like a pretty good guy with his shit together and I thought he liked me. After all, he is part of the team of people working to find a wife for Ryan.

  It's not like I don't have guy friends. Married guy friends. I know men can be jerks. I've heard all the jokes about how the sex stops after the honeymoon. Hell, one of my co-workers swear he didn't even get laid on his honeymoon!

  But overhearing Jake's little barbs that he thinks he's telling his brother on the sly? Warning Ryan that I'm going to get fat, or saying that my red hair means I'm "inherently batshit?"

  OK. There she goes. The woman in the mirror is crying now and I'm hyperventilating again.

  It's the first time we've ever met, dammit. Why do we have to have people hovering over us? Why couldn't we just go someplace nice and have a normal conversation?

  An arranged marriage was supposed to eliminate the awkward stage, not make it worse!

  This is probably the worst first date I've ever been on.

  I assure the woman at the sink next to me that I'm OK when she asks. She probably thinks I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me or something. How on earth would I explain my situation to a stranger? "Oh it's nothing, it's just that I just met my fiance for the first time tonight and my mom won't shut up about whether or not I'm going to invite my father's step kids to our wedding."

  No, I think I'll keep the details to myself. Even though I'm sure the lady would love to hear them based on the way she's giving me that nosy look thinly disguised as concern as she hands me a tissue.

  It takes a few promises that I'm all right, I don't need "help," and finally, "if you don't mind I'd like to be alone," but she leaves me in peace.

  Her intrusion turns out to be helpful though. Now I'm more irritated than anxious and that really helped dry up the tears.

  It wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't sure that Mom and Stacy weren't making Ryan uncomfortable too.

  I like him.

  The woman in the mirror sniffs and smiles at me while I fix the makeup she's smeared.

  I think I might like him a lot. I think in reply to the woman in the mirror and the goofy little smile she's looking at me with.

  I don't want him to get scared off before we even have a chance to find out if we're...compatible.

  Giving the woman in the mirror a wink, I head back out of the restroom, dabbing at the corner of my eye carefully with the tissue and hoping no one can tell I was crying.

  Ryan is watching me as I make my way back to our rented lanes and he's got a look on his face that makes me feel...safe.

  It sounds crazy, but it's the only way I can put it. Like he's keeping an eye on me and making sure I'm OK. Like we're in this together.

  Before I get back to the table where every one is waiting for me, Ryan comes to meet me half way, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me against him in a grip that feels protective. It's too easy to let him hold me.

  Leaning into him, I get a whiff of his cologne mixed with the clean scent of soap and aftershave and something deliciously all him. It kinda makes my head swim and my panties wet and suddenly I'm hot and self conscious and it takes me an extra second or two to realize that my mother really is talking about grand kids.

  I hear myself say something stupid about getting home because I have work in the morning that makes me sound like a little old lady that has to be in bed before it gets dark outside or something.

  Whatever, it's just an excuse to put a little distance between me and Ryan before I give in to my body's sudden theory that maybe my mom does need grand kids right now after all.

  As I untie the laces of my rented shoes, I catch the blue ink on my palm. Still legible. I close my fist around his number and smile to myself before returning the shoes to the bowling alley's rental counter.

  My phone had better be working when I get home, I really want to talk to Ryan without the running commentary on save-the-date cards.

  Ryan

  "My mom too." I grin at Kim over the edge of my glass.

  She blushes so easily, even when she doesn't know she's doing it, which is probably my favorite to watch.

  Like now, as she takes a sip of wine and sets the glass back on the tablecloth with a smirk. Her eyes drop to what's left of the pasta on her plate and the tops of her cheeks turn a soft pink.

  We've been talking non-stop since she got home from what we've started referring to as "the bowling disaster" even though I didn't really think it was a disaster at all.

  We met for lunch a few days after that and we've managed coffee before work twice this week, but tonight is our first real date.

  Tonight is the first night I've gone to her house to pick her up. Tonight is the first night we've been able to enjoy a full meal in a quiet setting with a couple glasses of wine. Tonight is the first night that I'm going to take her home and walk her to her door and hope she invites me inside.

  I'm nervous as fuck.

  "I guess we should expect that," Kim says, "but I'm sorry you have to deal with it too."

  She hasn't looked back up at me yet. I watch her lick her lips as she continues to contemplate the table top. The pink tip of her tongue slides between the seam of her lips, glistening with wetness and leaving a moist glow over what's left of the lipstick she hasn't had a chance to reapply yet.

  The sight has my dick aching.

  "It's not that big a deal," I assure her, "Mom's been on me to get married and start a family since Jake starting having kids."

  Kim smiles, her lips glistening where she licked them in the light from the candle on the table, "And I'm sure that she's only gotten worse since you signed up with a match maker to get married, right?"

  I nod, but the smile I give her is at least as strained as the one she gives me every time we talk about our families.

  "I don't get it, you know?" I ask rhetorically as I stare, mesmerized, at her lips, "they weren't like this during the interview process. At least, your team wasn't. Was mine?"

  Kim shakes her head. Her hair is pulled back and pinned up with just a few of her soft, red ringlets falling around her face. I'm dying to touc
h her hair. She doesn't load it down with gel or spray, she leaves the curls full and soft and damn near irresistible.

  "Nope, I mean, everyone asked about where I stood on getting married and having babies--" she blushes again and it's adorable. I wonder if she's thinking the same thing I am when she mentions having babies. "--but no one seemed obsessed with it. Nowhere near the way they're hounding us now."

  Seems like ever since our first meeting, both of us have been getting pressured to hurry up, get married and start working on the babies.

  We've known each other for a week. I haven't even kissed her yet. Damn do I want to, though. We're just barely getting to know each other. We're not ready to dive into the till death do us parts just yet.

  "So Brent is your best friend?"

  I let out a sigh of relief at her change of subject.

  Talking about marriage and babies feels weird, even though it is what we both signed up for. Somehow, every time it gets brought up, it just feels awkward.

  "Yeah, been buds since elementary school," I tell her as I sign the bill and put my credit card back in my wallet. "Can't believe the wedding's almost here already."

  "I know, right?"

  More than that, I can't believe that Brent's fiance is Kimberly's best friend. We found that out last week when we got to talking about how we each found our match maker, Raven Swann.

  Turns out we've been managing to barely miss each other for the last year and half.

  "So why weren't you on Kay's team when she was working with Raven?" I watch Kim down the last sip of wine from her glass and then laugh as she fans herself lightly, indicating she may have down it a little too fast.

  That's OK, I like the color spreading up her chest as the alcohol hits her a little faster than she was prepared for.

  "I wasn't living here," she explains, "I was out of state, working on my Masters and I just didn't have the time I needed to dedicate to getting my degree and picking out a husband for my bestie at the same time."

  "Damn shame," I push my chair back and I have to make a quick move to pull hers out for her before she does it herself, "we could have met the old fashioned way."