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Perfectly Ms. Matched (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 2)

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by Tamra Baumann




  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2016 Tamra Baumann

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Tamra Baumann

  Cover design by: Clarissa Yeo

  Perfectly Ms. Matched

  ISBN: 978-0-9864479-7-6

  Tamra Baumann

  This book is dedicated to our

  lovely new daughter-in-law, Madison, the biggest San Diego Chargers fan in the country. She

  was very brave to marry a die-hard Green Bay Packers fan. Thank you, Madi, for being the perfect match

  for our son.

  Also by Tamra Baumann

  It Had to Be Him

  It Had to Be Love

  It Had to Be Fate

  It Had to Be Them (Oct 2016)

  Matching Mr. Right

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1: SOMETIMES THE BEST STORIES START IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TALE.

  CHAPTER 2: IT’S BETTER TO TAKE CONTROL THAN TO BE CONTROLLED.

  CHAPTER 3: FOOL ME ONCE, SHAME ON YOU. FOOL ME TWICE—SO NOT HAPPENING.

  CHAPTER 4: NOT ALL PIE IS SWEET TO EAT. ESPECIALLY THE HUMBLE KIND.

  CHAPTER 5: IF IT WALKS LIKE A DUCK AND TALKS LIKE A DUCK, IT’S PROBABLY A DUCK . . . BUT DUCKS DON’T TALK.

  CHAPTER 6: THE GRASS ALWAYS SEEMS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE, UNTIL YOU HAVE TO MOW IT.

  CHAPTER 7: NOT ALL PAIN CAN BE FIXED WITH A PILL.

  CHAPTER 8: MOTHERS ALWAYS KNOW BEST.

  CHAPTER 9: OH WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE, WHEN FIRST WE PRACTICE TO DECEIVE.

  CHAPTER 10: THE WEAK REVENGE. THE STRONG FORGIVE. INTELLIGENCE IGNORES.

  CHAPTER 11: SOMETIMES MAKING A MISTAKE IS JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED.

  CHAPTER 12: SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT.

  CHAPTER 13: ITEMS IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR MIGHT BE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR. OR THEY MIGHT JUST DISAPPEAR FOREVER.

  CHAPTER 14: JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT THINGS COULDN’T GET ANY WORSE . . .

  CHAPTER 15: AN ULTIMATUM TODAY MIGHT KEEP YOUR BOYFRIEND AWAY.

  CHAPTER 16: “CHANGE, CHANGE, CHANGE” MAKES FOR GOOD SONG LYRICS, BUT IT’S EASIER SAID THAN DONE.

  CHAPTER 17: LOVE MIGHT JUST CONQUER ALL.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

  1

  SOMETIMES THE BEST STORIES START IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TALE.

  When Joann Westin spotted Chad Jenks, aka, the son of Satan, sitting at a table in her busy café, she pulled up short. That snake had some nerve.

  Weaving through the crowded four tops, her feet moved of their own accord toward his table. Well, technically it was her table. She owned the place.

  His sandy-blond hair was still just a tad too long, and she’d swear he had even more muscles than the last time she’d seen him. Nine years ago.

  A quick inventory showed her only weaponry consisted of a pen and her glass of iced tea. The pen could get messy, especially if she hit an artery. The iced tea might be the better choice.

  But it’d be juvenile to dump the tea over his head. She was thirty years old, not ten.

  Besides, he might think she was still hurt—she hadn’t realized how badly until seeing him again. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing it.

  She lowered her glass just as Chad looked up after finishing his turkey sub. The gleam in his eyes told her he knew exactly what she’d been tempted to do. In a move so quick she never saw it coming, his hand stretched out and grabbed the glass.

  “For me?” he asked all innocent-like as a slow grin tilted his still sexier-than-sin mouth.

  “No.” She played tug-of-war with a man so big and strong, it was a doomed battle from the start, so she let her glass of tea go.

  “Thanks.” He took a long, slow drink while her head threatened to explode.

  Smiling, Chad said, “Mmmm. Just the way I like it.”

  “I added a little extra rat poison, just for you.”

  “Since I’m allegedly the biggest rat bastard of all time, it’ll probably take something stronger than this to kill me.” He lifted her glass in a mock toast. “Nice to see you too, Jo.”

  Oh, she wanted to hit him. But she hadn’t been raised that way. She crossed her arms to restrain her baser urges. “Why are you here? We agreed to never speak to each other again, remember?” Although she feared she knew exactly why he was taking up space in her restaurant.

  He tilted his head back and finished off the iced tea. Probably so she wouldn’t pick it up and dump it over his head. There was still the ice left in the glass . . .

  In an old familiar move, he hooked a finger into the vee of her T-shirt, pulling her close. His breath warmed her lips as his finger stayed put in the middle of her cleavage. “I never agreed to that. It was just one of the many ultimatums you didn’t really mean at the time.”

  She slapped his hand aside, ignoring the quick thrill his touch had sent up her spine.

  Leaning even closer, so close she could smell his yummy aftershave, she gritted her teeth. “I meant every last one of them.” Using her own vintage move, she drilled her index finger into his chest. “Go away!”

  “You know how I hate the poking thing.” He trapped her hand, splaying it against his overdeveloped chest. His heart pounded beneath her palm. Seemed he wasn’t as calm as he appeared on the outside.

  He pulled out the chair beside him and gently but firmly planted her butt onto it. “Have a seat, and we’ll talk some business.”

  “Business?” She folded her hands in her lap as she searched for calm. “I’d run naked through downtown Denver before I’d do any business with you.”

  “I’d pay big to see that.” He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “You haven’t changed a bit, Jo. Feisty and pretty as ever. And just the woman I need to get me off the injured reserve list.”

  So that explained his sudden appearance after so many years of avoiding her every time he came home to see his family and friends. He’d been hurt in an NFL game a few weeks back. Badly.

  Not that she still kept track of him anymore. His behavior after they’d broken up had been legendary. Naked women, parties—it’d been too painful to watch. He’d done a one-eighty from a one-woman man to a new woman every night. But his latest injury had been plastered all over ESPN because it threatened to be a career-ending one.

  “I don’t help spoiled athletes anymore. Especially if they play for a team in the same division as the Broncos.” She waved a hand in the direction of all the customers. “This is what I do now. And I do it well. As you can see for yourself.” She nodded toward the line of people waiting out the door to be served.

  “No doubt. But I need a physical therapist, and you need money to expand your restaurant so you can serve all those folks faster. Let’s make a deal.”

  “I don’t make deals with the devil.” When she started to stand, his big hand landed on her thigh, holding her in place.

  He whispered, “Shelby told me the bank turned you down for the hundred K because you haven’t been in business long enough. That you have a balloon payment pending but won’t take any more money from her, and that your dad is being his usual asshat self and won’t help either. Face it. We need each other, Jo.”

  He’d told her the same thing once before. That they
needed each other and they belonged together. Forever. That had been right before he’d betrayed her in a way she couldn’t have fathomed him capable of. His actions before and after they’d parted ways clearly illustrated the fact that he hadn’t loved her nearly as deeply as she’d loved him.

  She glanced at her best friend, Shelby, who was seated at a nearby table, lost in her laptop. “Shelby has a big mouth. No deal, Chad.” She started to leave but was still trapped. “Move your hand.”

  His large hand quickly slipped from her thigh. He was a drop-dead handsome, oversized hunk, although he’d never hurt her. Physically. But he’d left a big bruise on her heart long ago.

  “Shelby’s your business partner. She had every right to help you find an investor.” He threw his arm around the back of her chair and leaned closer. “Help me with my physical therapy, and the money’s all yours.”

  Stunned at his offer, she blinked at Chad as he reached for an aluminum cane and attempted to stand.

  The long muscles in his neck strained as he leaned heavily on the table, maneuvering the cane until he finally reared up to his full six-foot-five height.

  When he swayed, Jo’s years of PT training kicked in. She hopped up and laid her hands on his waist to steady him.

  “I’m not taking money from you, Chad. Go back to sunny San Diego and rehab your knee there.”

  “I need to be here. My dad died a few months ago. Mom isn’t doing so well.”

  Jo’s heart lurched. “Your father died?”

  Her hands, still on his waist, pulled him closer in what might have been a hug before she realized what she was doing. She quickly stepped back. “I’m sorry, Chad. I know how much you loved him.”

  His jaw twitched before he gave a curt nod. “I’ll stop by tomorrow with a check. Nice to see you again, Jo.” He turned and limped slowly toward the front doors.

  “Don’t bother. I’ll just tear it up!”

  Ignoring her, he slapped the door open and left.

  He’d done it again. Why did she always feel like the bad guy with him? She hadn’t done anything wrong. He had.

  That man was not getting away with soothing his conscience with money. As badly as she could use the cash, she wasn’t accepting a measly dime.

  One of the bussers, a college kid named April, appeared to clear the table. “Was that Chad Jenks? He’s even better looking in person.”

  “Yes. He’s an old . . . we used to . . . You know what? I think you’ve had enough for today. I’ve got this. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” It was April’s first day back after recovering from a bad car accident.

  “That’s okay, Jo. I really need the money. I can work.”

  Jo had seen her wincing in pain earlier. She’d been heading over to speak to April when Chad distracted her.

  She reached into her pocket and handed April the stack of twenties she’d just taken from the register. “This ought to cover your wages for the next few days. I don’t want to see your cute, bruised little face in here until next Wednesday. Deal?”

  April’s eyes filled with tears before she threw her arms around Jo. “Thank you. I’ll work extra shifts to make this up to you.”

  “Nope, this one’s on me. I’d rather you study for your finals. But I’d take a deal on the expensive fees you’ll be charging me when you graduate law school. Now get out of here before I change my mind.” Jo gave her a gentle squeeze.

  “Deal. See you next week.” April handed over her apron and headed for the door.

  Jo began clearing Chad’s table when something glimmered up at her. The beautiful, pear-shaped, three-carat diamond engagement ring he’d bought for her after he realized the error of his ways. He’d kept it for nine years? She would’ve thought he’d have given it to the wife he’d been married to for a short time before they divorced. Jo had hated seeing him in a tux, looking so handsome, standing beside a woman in a beautiful wedding gown that hadn’t been her.

  The guilt ring was the first thing he’d bought with his bonus from the San Diego Chargers when they’d signed him to be a starting wide receiver.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she tugged the sparkling ring from its velvet box and slowly slid it onto her finger. A perfect fit. She’d never tried it on before. He’d offered it, but she’d refused. He’d hurt her too deeply even to consider his offer.

  It was still the most gorgeous ring she’d ever laid eyes on.

  Shaking her head, she popped the ring back into its pretty box and tucked it into her apron. She’d give it to Shelby and let her return it.

  Damn Chad Jenks for showing up in her life again.

  Chad worked his way to his truck, threw the cane on the front seat, and hefted himself up.

  “Way to go, genius,” he muttered as he started the engine.

  He hated that flash of pain in her eyes just before she almost threw her iced tea in his face.

  He’d been a dumb twenty-freaking-three and just about to sign with the Chargers when he’d screwed up with Jo. He’d depended on his agent to guide his career. That piece of advice about Jo had been the first of many times that scumbag former agent had steered him wrong. He hadn’t known who to believe, Jo, or the man who promised him the world on a silver platter. He’d chosen wrong.

  Then Jo had dumped him—hard. He needed to remember that, quit pining for her like a teenager, and just stick to rehabbing his knee. Best-case scenario, she’d forgive him too.

  When his cell rang, he cringed. No doubt who was on the other end.

  Poking the green icon, he barked, “Don’t bother, I know—”

  “Way to go, genius!” Shelby had been sitting a few tables away, listening to the whole conversation with her mini-Bluetooth device she used for her dating business. “That was about as lame— Wait, Jo’s coming this way, and she’s not happy. I’ll call you back.” The phone clicked off in his ear.

  Shelby and Jo had been friends forever. They’d work it out.

  But he still needed a top physical therapist if he had any hope of being able to play again. And one he could trust to keep the extent of his injuries on the down-low. He’d told his coach he’d be back by the end of the season. He couldn’t lose his starting spot.

  Jo was the best PT he’d ever worked with, and she’d be loyal even if she still couldn’t stand him. If she refused, there were other PTs out there, but this was the perfect excuse to spend time with Jo again.

  Maybe if she worked with him, she’d see how much he’d changed. And how sorry he was for everything. And then maybe she’d consider forgiving him. But first he needed to get her to agree to help him rehab.

  He could double his offer. With enough money, maybe she’d agree to help him. He’d hold his ace in the hole tightly to his chest for now, though. Jo had no idea his company was her landlord, the one she owed the balloon payment to, and which also owned the building next door she’d need for her expansion. And he’d like to keep it that way.

  Her restaurant was a good venture, and he’d be happy to see her expand. He admired Jo for going against her controlling father and doing what she’d always loved to do. Bake. Jo was happiest when she was in the kitchen creating something new.

  Hell, if nothing else, she could sell her damn ring. He’d forgotten he even had it until he’d gone to his safety deposit box a few weeks ago, stumbling upon it while searching for a deed to one of his properties.

  He’d never had the heart to sell it.

  The ring was worth more than she needed. But she still needed his space next door. So hopefully they could both get what they wanted.

  Rubbing at the ache in his injured knee, he shook off the sick feeling of defeat in his gut and headed for his mom’s ranch.

  He’d find a way to convince Jo it was a win-win until she caved. It didn’t matter what that doc said, he could do it. Get his knee rehabbed, lay low from the press so his coaches wouldn’t get wind of just how bad his injury was, and then get back out on the field to finish out the season. With Jo’s help
, he could do anything.

  He wasn’t ready to quit playing ball.

  Jo walked toward Shelby’s table just as her friend pulled a little device from her ear. Shelby owned forty percent of the café, so maybe she did have a right to look for financing too, but it still hurt that she chose to discuss it with the man who’d left Jo heartbroken.

  She leaned her hands on Shelby’s table and whispered, “What are you up to?”

  Shelby’s face lit with a wicked grin.

  Ignoring the question, she said, “He’s still smokin’ hot, right? That thick blond hair, chiseled jaw, and those gorgeous chocolate-mocha eyes surrounded by sexy little laugh lines? And all those rippling muscles—”

  “You’re a married woman now. You’re not supposed to be noticing that stuff.”

  “I’m married, not blind, Jo. Anyone can see the way he practically drools when he looks at you.”

  “I don’t give a flip about Chad’s drool.” She leaned even closer and said, “Why did you tell him about the loan?”

  “Because we need it to make this place more profitable so we can pay off that balloon payment. Help Chad and earn the money. It’s the perfect solution.”

  “Not happening.” That was the last thing she needed. To spend what little free time she had with that . . . She wouldn’t go there. “I know you and Chad have stayed friends because of your days in real estate, but this crossed a line, Shelby.”

  Jo turned to go to the kitchen. She needed to bake something. Or break something.

  Shelby caught up with her and slipped her arm around Jo’s waist. “I was just trying to help. Since you won’t take anything from me and Nick, it’s a pretty easy way to earn that money. You were a fantastic PT, Jo. That skiing accident wasn’t your fault.”

  Jo sighed.

  Five foot two, blonde, and cute as a puppy, Shelby was Jo’s best friend. But at the moment, she wanted to strangle her. “Maybe Jed wasn’t ready to get back out on the slopes, or maybe he was, but since he’s dead, I’ll never know for sure, will I? Now go away, or I’ll make you disinfect the bathrooms.”

  Shelby clearly had a listening problem, because she made no move to leave. “It wasn’t your fault. No one blames you for it.” Shelby waved a hand. “And I’m banned from bathroom duty for a few months. Pregnant women can’t be around strong chemicals.”

 

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