An Unlikely Match (The Match Series - Book #1)

by Dunlop, Barbara

  He smoothed back her now ridiculously messy hair. “I can’t believe I get to do this.”

  “Have sex?”

  He shook his head. “Spend the day with you. Have fun. Celebrate your success. And then simply make love to you.”

  She glanced back to the kitchen. “We never quite made it to the celebrating part.”

  “We didn’t,” he agreed. Then he caught sight of the clock. “You have to work tonight?”

  She nodded. “In about an hour.”

  His disappointment was beyond acute. He didn’t want their intimacy to end. “You should come back,” he told her before he had a chance to think it through.

  “Here?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’ll be midnight.”

  He knew he was taking a risk. And maybe he didn’t have a single right in the world to ask. But he wanted her here. He wanted her in his arms.

  “You should sleep with me,” he boldly told her. “I’ll pick you up from work. We’ll toast your success. And you can sleep in my bed.”

  Her brow furrowed in worry, and he was afraid he’d gone too far.

  “It’s just tonight,” he told her. “I’m not suggesting anything more than that.”

  She swallowed. “Okay. I’ll come back.”

  Chapter Ten

  Morgan had arrived early to pick Amelia up last night. She noticed that he’d worn his contacts and some of the clothes she’d helped him buy. It caught the attention of a few female patrons. They’d approached him, their flirtatious attention seeming to baffle him. And, like the gentleman he was, he’d pointed Amelia out to each of them, obviously making it clear he was waiting for her.

  They’d made love again, and she’d slept in his arms, waking to sunshine streaming through his window and finding him still sound asleep. She’d crept from the bed and commandeered one of his shirts. It was plaid, but she didn’t care anymore.

  She wanted to make him coffee, maybe some breakfast. But then she’d latched on to a better idea. She’d promised that if the reunion didn’t go well, she’d bake him her aunt’s button cookies. Although the reunion had worked itself out in the end, she figured she still owed him. Fortunately, it was the one recipe she had memorized. Also, fortunately, Morgan had all the ingredients. The man even owned two baking sheets.

  She mixed butter, brown sugar, eggs and milk, adding flour, salt and baking powder. While they baked then cooled, she cleaned the kitchen, assembling the ingredients for the chocolate icing.

  When she heard the shower come on upstairs, she began to rush. And by the time Morgan made it downstairs, she had a large platter of cookies ready for him.

  “You look good in my clothes,” he drawled from the doorway.

  She spread her arms and did a twirl. “I’ve never done plaid before.”

  He moved forward, engulfing her in his embrace. “You make anything work.”

  “You, on the other hand, have to work a little harder. I may steal this so you can’t wear it again.”

  “If you don’t like it, I won’t wear it again.”

  She stepped back to gaze at him. “You look good today.”

  He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a lightweight, cowl-neck, short-sleeve sweater.

  He glanced around the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

  “Baking cookies.” She felt proud of her efforts.

  “I didn’t know you cooked.”

  “I don’t cook much, but this is my great-aunt’s secret recipe.” She retrieved the platter and held it in front of him. “Button cookies. They’re to die for.”

  His smile faded. “What did you call them?”

  “Button cookies,” she repeated.

  His jaw went rigid, and he stared at the cookies as if they were snakes.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, worried. Did he have an allergy she didn’t know about?

  His tone went cold and flat. “Whose recipe did you say this was?”

  Amelia hesitated, afraid but not sure why. “I got it from my Aunt Hannah. Why? Morgan, what’s wrong?”

  “Button cookies,” he said, lifting one from the platter.

  “Try one,” she dared suggest, desperately trying to figure out what was happening.

  He turned it over in his hand. “Daisy made these for me.”

  The statement didn’t compute for Amelia. “Daisy?”

  “Hannah’s good friend, Daisy.”

  She was completely baffled. “What? When? Why?”

  “Don’t you mean where?”

  Amelia searched his expression, desperate for a glimpse of the Morgan who’d biked with her, celebrated with her, and made love to her yesterday. “Uh, okay, where?”

  “Florida.”

  She nodded. Aunt Hannah lived in Florida.

  “Where they both live next door to my newly discovered grandfather.”

  “They do?” What a completely bizarre coincidence.

  He tossed the cookie back onto the platter. “What was the game here, Amelia?”

  The question made absolutely no sense to her. “What game?”

  “It’s too late to play coy.”

  “All I did was bake cookies.”

  “I knew something was off,” he sneered. “I knew something was up. You were just too, too—” He gestured up and down her body. “And now you’re all cozy in my kitchen, in my clothes.”

  She couldn’t get a fix on his accusation, but it sure wasn’t good. “Morgan, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying this was all some kind of a con.”

  A cookie con? If he hadn’t looked so angry, she might have laughed.

  But he did look angry, very angry.

  “When I dared to suggest it was pity sex,” he continued in a cold voice, “you got offended and affronted. You swore up and down, backward and sideways that you were attracted to me. But I guess we both know you’re a great actor.”

  She staggered back. “What?” Had he lost his mind?

  “What do we call this, Amelia? A pity relationship?”

  “What’s happening?”

  “What were you getting out of it? Some sick sense of satisfaction at duping the nerd into thinking you were attracted to him? Was this a game to you, party girl?”

  “Morgan, I have never—”

  “No, wait.” He held up his hands and took a step back. “I’m trying to apply logic to an emotional person. I should learn not to do that. I’ll never understand what motivates people like you.”

  Anger began to rise in her. “People like me? You mean stupid people with no sense of logic? And apparently no morals, either?”

  His arms crossed over his chest. His jaw tight, he remained silent.

  She dropped the cookie plate on the counter with a clatter, anger overwhelming her. “I had no idea your grandfather knew my aunt. And if I had, I never would have participated in duping you. And I sure as hell would never sleep with a man as some kind of convoluted plot.” She glared at him. “You are out of your mind.”

  “I’m stone, cold sane.”

  “You think so?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Maybe you are, and maybe you’re not. But it doesn’t really matter. If you can’t see that I’m not a prostitute—” Her stomach clamped down on her pain and disappointment. Her voice dropped low. “You’re going to find out I’m innocent in this, Morgan. But when you do, it’ll be too late. Because I’ll already hate you.”

  She turned on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen, retrieving her purse on the way to the door. Her dress? Well, he could keep the dress. She wasn’t about to go back to his bedroom and pick it up off the floor. Her heart all but collapsing with pain, she marched across the patio to her own yard.

  She had fallen in love with Morgan. She was certain of it. She loved him, and he thought she was some shallow, airheaded party girl willing to compromise her morals for some cruel joke. He was worse than Rudy. At least
she could see Rudy coming. Morgan had snuck in under the radar and then treated her like dirt.

  She was moving away just as fast as she possibly could. She never wanted to see him again.

  o o o o

  Morgan’s first instinct was to call JW and demand an explanation for the bizarre situation. But he knew the conversation had to take place in person. He wanted to see the look on the old man’s face when he tried to talk his way out of this. So, Morgan had booked the first possible flight to Florida.

  All the way to the airport, he tried to figure out their strategy. What did they want from him? Information? Was Amelia supposed to get close to him to find out something about his research? Maybe his grandfather wasn’t even his grandfather. And how did Sam fit in?

  After takeoff, he accepted a glass of wine from the flight attendant. Then he accepted another, and another. When he got to Florida, he took a cab to his grandfather’s condo and banged on the front door.

  JW answered, looking happy then puzzled as he took in the expression on Morgan’s face.

  “You owe me an explanation,” Morgan stated without preamble.

  JW paused for a moment, obviously assessing Morgan’s expression. Then, without a word, he nodded and opened the door wide to invite Morgan in.

  “Who’s there?” came Daisy’s cheerful voice as she appeared around the corner in the hallway.

  “Morgan,” she sang, waltzing forward, clearly oblivious to his expression as she pulled him into a hug, which he guardedly returned.

  “Morgan is here for an explanation,” said JW, his tone transmitting the seriousness of the situation.

  Daisy pulled back, her expression wary. “An explanation of what?”

  “He hasn’t told me yet,” said JW.

  “I want the entire story,” said Morgan.

  “Where’s Amelia?” Daisy asked.

  “She’s in California.”

  “So the two of you aren’t...didn’t...”

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” JW demanded of Daisy.

  “It was the whole point of the exercise,” Daisy countered tartly.

  “I think we can call the exercise a bust,” said JW.

  “You sure can,” said Morgan.

  “You should come into the living room,” said JW, his tone regretful.

  Morgan acquiesced. They didn’t need to have this conversation in the front hall.

  “How did you find out?” asked Daisy as they moved farther into the condo.

  “Why did you do it?” Morgan countered. How he’d found out was none of her business.

  “The obvious reason,” said Daisy. She perched herself on the end of the sofa.

  “There is no obvious reason,” said Morgan. Seeing no point in towering over her, he chose a leather armchair and sat down.

  JW took the opposite end of the sofa, sitting rigidly, his expression grave.

  “Truth is,” said Daisy, “we thought you might be gay.”

  “I never thought you were gay,” JW boomed.

  “What?” Morgan glanced from one to the other in total bafflement.

  “We don’t mean it as a bad thing,” said Daisy. “I’m gay. But you didn’t have any women in your life, and you’re such an attractive, accomplished young man.”

  “I never thought you were gay,” JW gruffly repeated.

  Morgan was truly horrified. “You paid Amelia to find out if I was gay?”

  They both stared blankly back at him.

  “Why would we pay Amelia?” Daisy asked.

  “You expect me to believe it was a coincidence that she ended up living next door to me?”

  “Of course it wasn’t a coincidence,” said JW.

  “Hannah bought the condo,” said Daisy. “After Sam got you the job at Caltech.”

  Morgan was sure he couldn’t have heard right. “Sam got me a job at Caltech?”

  “It seemed like the smartest move,” said Daisy.

  JW nodded his agreement. “The initial logistics were complicated, but once we had the geography under control—”

  “Sam got me my job at Caltech?” Morgan thought his brain might explode.

  The two hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other.

  “Yes,” JW answered.

  “How did he do that? Why would he do that?”

  “Because you’re a valuable, intellectual asset.” Sam’s voice came unexpectedly from the kitchen. “I only had to point that out to them. Well, and agree to the lecture series.” He gave a shrug.

  Morgan turned to stare at him. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”

  “I know JW. I know he cares about you.” Sam cracked a self-conscious smile. “And how else were we going to get you next to Amelia?”

  Morgan’s brain frantically clicked through information, but he wasn’t seeing any kind of a logical picture. “I’m a pretty smart guy,” he told the three people in the room. “But you have me completely baffled.”

  “It was the algorithm,” said Daisy. “It put you and Amelia together. At first we thought Sam had screwed it up.”

  “I did not screw it up,” said Sam.

  “It seemed like an odd couple,” said Daisy. “We all agreed.”

  “I was against it from the beginning,” JW put in.

  “You came around,” Sam countered.

  JW gave a gruff cough. “Well, I wasn’t sure what to do. I’m new to this grandfather stuff, and I thought it might be a good idea, if it worked. But I didn’t think it would.”

  “Neither did I,” said Daisy. “But it was worth a shot.”

  “It’s the best damn romance algorithm out there,” said Sam.

  Morgan came to his feet. “Stop!”

  They all fell silent, staring at him.

  “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re all talking about.”

  Daisy spoke up. “We’re talking about the computer dating program. The one that matched you up with Amelia.”

  Morgan’s head was truly going to explode. “You put my information onto a computer dating site without my knowledge?”

  “Not a public site,” said Daisy. “We’d never do anything like that.”

  “I designed it,” said Sam. “It’s private. In my garage. We only entered our grandchildren and our great-nieces to find you the right match.”

  “You’re a Harry Mazer Award winner,” said Morgan.

  “I am.”

  “You’re on the President’s Council on Aerospace Innovation.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And you wrote a matchmaking algorithm?”

  “We thought you might need a little help,” Daisy said in the kindest voice imaginable.

  “I’m not gay,” Morgan repeated.

  “That’s what I told them,” said Sam.

  “He called you a nerd.” Hannah’s voice joined the conversation as she moved in beside Sam.

  Morgan’s gaze swept across all four of their faces.

  “Did it work?” asked Hannah. “Did you fall for my niece?”

  Morgan swallowed. Yes, he’d fallen for Amelia. He’d fallen hard for Amelia. And he’d totally blown it. And it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “She seemed to like him,” said Sam.

  Morgan found himself holding his breath. Had Amelia said something to Sam?

  “She said you were a good catch,” said Hannah.

  Morgan moderated his disappointment. “You told her I was a good catch.”

  Hannah thought for a moment. “Maybe. But she said you were handsome.”

  She’d also said he was a little nerdy around the edges. But Hannah had no idea that Morgan had been listening to the other side of that conversation.

  A hard knot formed in his stomach when he realized what he’d done. They might be a bunch of certifiable kooks, but they’d manipulated Amelia every bit as much as they’d manipulated him. She was innocent, just as she’d said, and he’d called her a liar.

  “Morgan, what’s
wrong?” asked Daisy.

  After a long hesitation and a deep breath, he admitted the truth. “She didn’t fall for me.”

  “Oh, my,” said Hannah, dropping down into one of the kitchen chairs. “We didn’t think about that.”

  Sam frowned. “I have to admit, I thought it would either work or not work. I didn’t take into account a fifty-percent success.”

  “This is terrible,” said Hannah.

  “I’m sorry,” said JW, looking genuinely regretful. “I thought it was a no-risk proposition.”

  “Did she break your heart?” asked Daisy, looking like she might tear up.

  Morgan wished he could say she hadn’t. But he was beginning to fear that that was exactly what had happened. As hard as he’d tried to keep from falling for her, everything about her had called to him on every level imaginable. Sure, there was an anthropological factor. She was drop-dead gorgeous. He’d wanted desperately to make love to her, as would any man on the planet.

  But there was more than that. He loved her energy, her imagination, her sense of humor, and that intelligence that at first seemed half a bubble off, but was really just another kind of brilliance.

  He loved her. He loved her with all his heart, and there wasn’t a hope in hell she’d ever reciprocate.

  He realized they were all waiting for his answer.

  “I like her,” he hedged. “It was close,” he told Sam. “I think your algorithm is sound. But there were just too many differences in our lifestyles and personalities.”

  “Did you kiss her?” asked Hannah.

  “I kissed her,” he admitted, trying not to smile at the memory of their first kiss. He’d give anything to be transported back to that moment in the driveway when he’d first held her in his arms, realizing she was every bit as soft and sweet as he’d fantasized.

  A knock on the door disturbed the conversation.

  Morgan took the opportunity to draw a breath and reframe his reality. He knew deep down inside that there had never been a real chance for a serious relationship with Amelia. But he’d also lost her friendship.

  He’d accused her of using sex as a manipulation tool. He’d give anything to take back his vile words. But he couldn’t. Life didn’t work that way. His logical brain told him to suck it up and move on. But his emotional brain was flailing in unfamiliar territory.