by Jaci Burton
“I imagine you don’t see that much where you live, do you?”
She laughed, and the sound trickled through his nerve endings like warm honey. “Not at all. Unless I take a trek up to the mountains to go skiing.”
“You like to ski?”
“On occasion, when I can find the time. How about you?”
“I’ve taken a few trips to Colorado to snowboard with my friends.”
Her brows rose. “Really. You don’t seem the snowboard type.”
“And what exactly is the snowboard type?”
“I don’t know. Not quite as muscular as you so they’re able to maneuver the board more easily?”
He decided to take that as a compliment. “I can maneuver the board just fine, Ms. Weatherford. Have you ever been on a snowboard?”
She laughed. “I’ll stick to skis, thanks.”
Her phone rang, so he turned his attention away from her, picked up his phone and checked the status on some ranch supplies he’d ordered. Then, since she was busy on the phone, he typed in her website, which she’d mentioned at lunch.
The One For You Matchmaking Service seemed legit. Alice had a decent website, and even had testimonials from former clients—now couples. He read through a few of them.
“Alice Weatherford made all my dreams come true.”
“I found the love of my life with The One For You Matchmaking Service.”
“I tried every way I could to find the right woman, and nothing worked. Until I met Alice Weatherford. She knows what she’s doing. Trust her.”
Huh. Clay wasn’t sure he believed that, but he was happy for those people. He scrolled around the site, reading about her background. She had a BS in psychology and had spent some time in human resources before deciding to dive into the matchmaking business. Interesting. She was very transparent about her background and her process, and she’d even put a sample questionnaire in there, indicating it wasn’t complete. He checked out the pricing for her services. Clay’s eyes widened. Pretty steep. He hoped she was good.
He finally closed out of the site, then couldn’t help but overhear Alice’s conversation with someone he assumed was a client.
“I promise you, Mariah, he’s wonderful. He’s also been fully vetted—the background check came out clean—and he’s very nice. I have the two of you set up at a restaurant where I know the manager, the bartender, two of the waitresses and the hostess, so you’ll have friends who know you’re coming and will watch out for you. You have nothing to be concerned about.”
She listened, and Clay wondered what the woman on the other end was saying to her. Though it was none of his business, of course.
“Yes, and let me know how it goes. If you have any concerns, reach out, okay? And have fun. Sherman is a wonderful man. I know you two are going to hit it off.”
She listened for another minute, smiling as she did.
“I’m sure you will. Talk to you soon, honey. Bye.”
She clicked off and turned her smile on Clay. “One of my clients.”
“I gathered. A nervous one?”
“In one way or another, they’re all nervous before the first date. There’s a lot at stake.”
He shrugged. “It’s just a first date. It either works out or it doesn’t, right?”
She shifted to face him. “For some of these people it’s so much more than that. Some have been in long-term relationships that didn’t work out and had their hearts broken. Others haven’t had the courage to step into a relationship before. Others have tried the dating scene with one failure after another. But the commonality among them is that every single one of them wants to fall in love. So they’re all putting their hearts on the line, hoping the person they’re about to meet is going to be the one.”
“That puts a lot of pressure on that first date, doesn’t it?”
“I try to tell them not to put all their eggs in one basket, to just enjoy themselves, and if this person isn’t the one, I’ll find them another. I don’t know where you are in your dating life, Clay. You might not understand this. But when you’re ready to settle down like these people are, every first date is the potential last first date they’ll ever have.”
He felt the punch to his gut as he realized that’s exactly where he was. “Yeah, I get it.”
“I never asked if you were married or in a committed relationship.”
“Neither. I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships that didn’t work out.”
She laid her hand over his, and the warmth of her touch seeped through him.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. Just haven’t found the right one.”
“Sometimes they’re not. Which doesn’t mean it hurts any less when you find that out.”
Damn, she was insightful. Maybe too insightful. He pulled his hand away and stood, walking to the window. “Yeah.”
The room was quiet for a few minutes. Clay figured Alice was on her phone or her laptop or something.
“Mind if I ask you what went wrong?”
He turned to face her. “Excuse me?”
“With your relationships. The long-term ones that ended.”
“Oh. I guess we wanted different things.”
She studied him. “Such as?”
He went back over and slid into the chair.
“With one, we dated six months. I really liked her a lot. She was fun, and we had a lot in common. But all of a sudden she started hinting about a ring and getting married and how many kids were we going to have. I could tell she was anxious about sealing the deal, and I just wasn’t there yet.”
Alice nodded. “Something was holding you back.”
“Yeah. After another month I knew she wasn’t the one for me, so I broke it off. She was crushed and I felt like shit about it. After that I was wary about getting serious. A year or so later I met a great woman. She was a barrel racer.”
Alice frowned.
“Rodeo,” Clay said.
“Oh. The ones who ride horses around barrels.”
“Yeah. Anyway, she was great. We had a lot of fun together. She traveled a lot, but whenever we could meet up, we just clicked. The problem was, we just had fun together. We both liked sports and being outdoors. We liked hiking, and we had a lot of chemistry.”
“Ah. That chemistry thing.”
He grinned. “Yeah. But there was never any emotional depth to our relationship. We never took any steps forward. That one lasted a year until we both realized we were better friends than anything else.”
“That had to be painful,” she said.
He shrugged. “It was hard. We really liked each other. It was hard to say good-bye. But in the end we both knew our relationship wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to end things even when you know it’s the right thing to do.”
He studied her. “You’ve been there?”
She nodded.
“Tell me about it.”
“He was a marketing manager for a big company in Los Angeles. Some of the things I liked the most about him were his focus and his ambition. But it turned out that’s what ended up driving us apart. Because I’m focused and ambitious, too. Mike enjoyed travel and promotions and always the next big thing, you know?”
“Yeah.”
She shifted. “But we had so much in common. We both liked to travel, we enjoyed being outdoors and everything seemed perfect.”
“Until?”
“Until he got a job offer at a prestigious advertising firm in Chicago. He thought I’d move with him.”
He could already figure out where this was going. “And your job keeps you in LA.”
“Yes. I have clients there. My work is there.”
“So geography broke you up.”
“I think it was way mor
e than geography. His career was his number one priority. He’d worked very hard to get where he was. It was one of the things I admired about him. But his expectation that I would give up everything that made me . . . me, in order to satisfy his life and his career, made me see him in a different light. I know we were both between a rock and a hard place, geographically, but if we’d really loved each other? The two of us would have sat down together to find a way to make it work. Instead, he just expected me to be the one to give up LA and move with him to Chicago. In the end, that was the deal breaker, and signaled the end of our relationship.”
“I’m sure that was a tough breakup.”
“It was. I cared deeply about him, but in the end, he left, and I stayed. And we both moved on with our lives. I think it was a shock to both of us how easy it was to break up.”
Clay understood that right off. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Sometimes you’re not with the right person, and you don’t even know it until it’s time to say good-bye. But here’s the thing. I don’t think geography or job or anything else matters if you’ve found that one person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You know what I mean?”
She nodded. “I do. If you’re in love with someone—truly in love with them—there’s no obstacle to the relationship that can’t be worked out. You’ll figure out a way.”
Again with her insight. He could see why she was so good at her job. “Exactly. With Stephanie and me, as soon as we realized we were better as friends, that was it. There was no heartache. And she wasn’t all that broken up about it, either. It was more of a mutual thing. I was sorry to see her go, though. We had a great time together.”
“So you two weren’t really in love.”
He stared out at the snow. “I guess not. I mean, it’s not that we both weren’t hurt by the breakup. But it was more . . . sad when we came to the realization that we weren’t the right ones for each other.”
“Sometimes that happens. It can be a huge issue or the smallest thing that makes two people realize they don’t work as a couple. Then you move on and hope the next time is better.”
He looked back at her. “Yeah. And you learn things about yourself every time you go through a relationship so that hopefully you don’t make the same mistakes again.”
“That’s very mature of you.”
He laughed. “I don’t know about that, but I’d like to think I’m a better man now than I was when I first started dating.”
She graced him with a sweet smile that lit up her face. “With an outlook like that, I have no doubt that you are. Some woman will be very lucky to have you in her life.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you date a lot now, Clay?”
“Not a whole lot. Been busy on the ranch.”
“So no steady girlfriends or anything since Stephanie?”
“No. I mean, I date here and there, but nothing serious. Why?”
She smiled. “Just curious.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She went back to typing on her laptop, so he went back to his phone.
“Where do you meet them?”
He looked up from his phone. “Meet who?”
“The women you date. Do you meet them online, on apps? Or in the bars? Or somewhere else?”
He blinked. “I don’t know. Here and there. Like I mentioned at lunch, I don’t use dating apps.”
“So you meet them in bars.”
“I didn’t say that, either.”
She looked back down at her laptop. “You didn’t have to.”
“I just happen to know a lot of women, okay? That’s not a crime around here.”
“Of course it isn’t, and I’m sure you do.”
Now Clay was irritated, though he didn’t know why. They were just talking, having a conversation. And sure, it was about him and his past and his relationship status, but so what? He shouldn’t care what Alice thought. He didn’t even know her.
Finally, she looked up at him and smiled. “You should let me find someone for you.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Let me be your matchmaker.”
“Oh, hell no.”
She leaned forward. “Why not? I could find the ideal woman for you, one whose interests match yours, who wants the same things that you do.”
“No.”
“One who wants the same future as you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re looking for true love, aren’t you? For someone to spend the rest of your life with?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“No buts. No waiting. You can’t sit around and wait for love to stumble into you, Clay. You have to let me find her for you.”
Clay was at a loss for words. The only word that came to mind over and over in his head was no.
No. No. No. No. And no.
There was no way in hell that he was going to allow Alice Weatherford to play matchmaker for him.
He stood and looked down at her. “No. Thank you. But no.”
He hurried out of the room, already feeling sweat trickle down his back. He made his way into the kitchen and smiled at Louise, who gave him a curious look in return.
“Just, uh, grabbing something cold to drink.”
She shrugged. “Help yourself.”
He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, popped the top open and took several swallows, then made his way to the back door to see if the snow was letting up. If it was, maybe he could saddle Mickey and go home.
Not that he’d be running away or anything. He just had things to do. Things that would be far away from Alice Weatherford.
Unfortunately, the snow was falling even heavier now than before.
Shit.
Not that it mattered. He’d told Alice no, and that was it. His final answer. The subject was closed. No matchmaking. Not now, not ever.
He could find his own woman, and he didn’t need Alice Weatherford’s help.
Chapter Four
It was clear as a sunny summer day to Alice that Clay Henry desperately needed her help. And now that it appeared she was going to be snowbound here at the Bellini house with Clay, what better time than the present to work on her matchmaking mission for Clay?
Maureen had already told her the roads would be impassible now that over two feet of snow had fallen. It wasn’t like the plows would get out to their rural area any time soon. And she’d informed Alice that they had plenty of guest rooms and she was more than welcome to stay with them as long as she wanted to. So Alice had phoned the hotel and canceled her reservation.
Clay had been the one to bring her luggage up to her room. It turned out he was going to stay the night as well.
“Do you keep extra clothes in your saddlebag?” she asked as he brought her suitcase into her room.
He laughed, and the sound was low and gravelly and made her insides shiver. “No. But I don’t wear clothes to bed, so I think I’ll be fine.”
Great. He’d be sleeping in the room next to hers. Naked. That visual would keep her awake all night.
And she needed to keep thoughts of a naked Clay out of her head. Her intent was to find him the perfect match, and the perfect woman was definitely not her. Geography was the main obstacle in their way, and she’d already gone down that road once. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Plus, Clay was looking for a long-term relationship, not a “see you once a month” kind of thing. The odds were stacked against them before anything could even get started. Alice knew neither of them wanted to start something that couldn’t go anywhere.
“So, while we’re stuck together here, have you given any thought to utilizing my matchmaking services?”
He laid the suitcase on her bed. “I haven’t given it any thought at all, and my answer is still no.”
She leaned against the door fram
e. “Why? Are you afraid I might find someone you’re compatible with and you’d have to admit you’re wrong?”
He walked over to her, his large frame taking up much of the doorway. “First, I don’t have a problem admitting I’m wrong when I am. Second, I don’t need your help finding a woman.”
“I think you do.”
He rested his hand above her head. She breathed in the scent of warm male and leather, and, oh, God, what an aphrodisiac that combination was.
“How come you don’t match someone for yourself?”
She shook her head. “That’s not how this works.”
“Why not? Aren’t you looking for love, Alice?”
She could barely take in a breath because his eyes mesmerized her. They were a combination of brown and a very deep gold, and she couldn’t help but stare at them. But then he moved in and his mouth hovered so close to hers all she had to do was tilt forward a little and their lips would be touching. What would he do if she kissed him? Would he pull back, or would he jerk her into his arms and give her what she so desperately . . .
Stop that, Alice. He’s not yours to kiss.
She cleared her throat and moved toward the center of the room, needing a few seconds to clear her head. “Of course I am. But I’m very busy with my career. Finding love for other people.” She stopped and turned, offering up a smile. “Like you, Clay.”
He shook his head. “Not happening, Alice.”
Her smile lingered, challenging him. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
“What are you gonna do? Find someone for me against my will?”
She couldn’t help herself. She walked toward him, stopping just a half foot from him. She had to tilt her head back to search his face. “I wouldn’t do anything that you didn’t ask for.”
He arched a brow. “Be careful. I could ask for a lot.”
So could she. If only she’d let her guard down. Clay was gorgeous and hot and standing right at the entrance to her bedroom. She’d never been so instantly attracted to a man before. And they’d shared an intimate conversation downstairs. She felt like she already knew him.
But he’s not yours. Your job is to find him someone who isn’t you.
Dammit.
