The Matchmaker's Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 2)

by Maria Hoagland

  But her exertion wasn’t enough. Taking the inside corner, Finn pulled ahead, clipping her back tire with his front as he jumped forward. Her bike wobbled in his wake.

  “Hey! No playing dirty!” she yelled as he snaked by.

  “You going to stop me?” he taunted over his shoulder.

  In that split second with his head turned, he couldn’t navigate the upcoming corner. Emily saw his inevitable tumble just in time. She jerked her handlebars to the left to keep from ending up in a metal mess at the same time Finn’s bike slipped sideways in the mud. She steered around a sharp rock jutting up through the path and lost her balance. It all happened so fast. She braced for the sharp edges of the rock but felt a warm touch and a cushioned bounce as Finn pulled her to his chest to break her fall.

  For a moment, all she could do was catch her breath and her wits. His arms were around her, his breath jagged in her ear, and his chest rising and crashing like someone was doing chest compressions. Under her hand, his heart beat as hard and fast as his legs had pedaled to get around her. In the end, he’d pulled them both down, despite her best efforts to avoid the fall, and she’d ended up in a heap of mud, metal, and humanity. Thanks to his rescue, she was pain-free, though spattered with cold mud. With him on the bottom, the chances that he’d ended up uninjured were considerably lower.

  “Are you okay?” She planned how she might get up to minimize both awkwardness and pain, if he was experiencing any.

  “I’m—” His eyes locked on hers. “—fine.” He swallowed. “Thanks.” Without looking away, he placed both hands on either side of her hips and lifted her. “You know there are less dangerous ways to get to know me.”

  Embarrassment prickled like heat down the back of her neck. Uncomfortable, she scrambled up. A moment of standing above him, however, smoothed the ruffled edges of her reaction. He hadn’t meant to startle her; he’d just been helping her up. She offered him a hand. His palm, slimy with mud, slipped in hers, and she couldn’t get the leverage to help. Breaking the grip, she wiped her hands on her pant legs and tried again. This time he came up with a jump.

  Emily looked down the path to see who had witnessed their comedy of errors. With the group spread apart as they were, no one rushed forward to ask if they were okay, but their accident hadn’t gone unnoticed. Kian gave her a questioning head bob; she gave him a nod right back. All was good.

  Grant caught her eye, but with his face completely expressionless, she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Secretly hoping he’d be concerned about her, she felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her when he seemed to not even care. After a long moment, his gaze returned to Jaden at his side, who chattered away without a break. Thanks to Emily and Finn’s race, the pair were still several yards behind, which was good, because Jaden approached the scene of the accident without even noticing there was a problem ahead.

  What a contrast there was between the two groups of riders. Grant and Jaden appeared engrossed in a conversation that happened to be on bikes. She and Finn were the opposite—a bike ride interrupted by teasing and trash-talking.

  Kian and Hattie brought up the rear, well behind the others. Hattie looked downright miserable. She hadn’t smiled once, hadn’t even attempted a conversation with any of the men. How was she ever going to get over Martin if she didn’t give anyone else a shot? Seriously, why wasn’t she even trying with Kian? He was good-looking and friendly, super easy to talk to and funny as all get out, but Hattie didn’t give him the time of day.

  As Emily and Finn got back on their bikes, resuming their ride with more back-and-forth banter and less competitive push and pull this time, her mind stayed on her guests. Clearly, Grant and Finn were enjoying the ride, but just as clearly, Hattie wasn’t. Jaden was more difficult to read. Her smiles and head tipping and chatter indicated that she was happy enough with Grant, but both she and Hattie appeared uncomfortable and shifted in their seats, looking at nature around them rather than digging in for the wind in their hair.

  Emily hadn’t consciously chosen an activity Jaden Fairbanks wouldn’t enjoy. Incapable of pedaling faster than the pace for a leisurely Sunday afternoon stroll, Jaden recoiled from the spraying as if allergic to mud. Seriously, getting dirty was half the fun of trail biking in March. As far as Emily’s goals for the day went, however, it didn’t matter if neither Hattie nor Jaden were cycling fans; the whole point was to see how Grant responded to the two of them, and so far, so good with Jaden.

  Emily and Finn rode into the clearing ahead of the others. Around them, sunlight danced through the waving overhead tree branches like laser lights at nature’s club. The music was the rustling of last fall’s leaves, and the happy clinking of branches were like toasts to the springtime. At a rough wooden table, Annalise had arranged for a picnic lunch to be set out. Emily made use of a portable wash station set to the side. After cleaning her hands, she dabbed at the flecks of mud on her forearms and face until they disappeared. She fluffed her hair, erasing all but the slightest line where the helmet had been, and then reapplied her lip gloss. Finally, she felt more like herself again. She sat down across the table from Finn and sighed the happy, contented sigh of someone who didn’t want the morning to end.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” Finn placed his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. “If I had to spend another day with the lovebirds . . .” He closed his eyes and dropped his head to one side, his mouth opening in mock sleep.

  “I bet they wanted some time to themselves,” Emily teased. “Why else would they ask me to take you off their hands?” She gave him her best demure look before they both broke out in a laugh.

  “Like I’m a little kid incapable of entertaining myself. But I don’t mind the company—and apparently, you are the person who knows Eureka Springs best. What should I do next? Ghost tours and haunted hotels? Shops? Libraries? Museums?”

  “All of it.” Emily laughed.

  “Of course.” He chuckled back. His smile pulled her in like a magnet. “All joking aside, they’ve been generous to let me stay while I finish with interviews.”

  Emily’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re moving to Eureka Springs? Miss Taylor didn’t say anything about that.”

  “I asked them not to.” He cringed and leaned forward, his voice low. “I can’t say what I’m interviewing for yet—I shouldn’t have brought it up. I guess I just wanted to let you know, if I’m lucky, I’ll be sticking around.” Finn leaned so close, she could feel the heat of his skin, reminding her of their accident and his strong chest that had saved her.

  “I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic if things work out and you get to stay in Eureka Springs.”

  “Thanks. That’s nice of—” Finn stopped, and Emily turned to see what had grabbed his attention.

  Jaden and Grant rode into the clearing as if they’d been leisurely cruising a beach boardwalk instead of a technical trail through the woods. With the grace of a movie actress in a romance scene, Jaden dismounted and removed her helmet, shaking out her long brunette locks. Predictably, Finn’s eyes popped. Even after cleaning up, Emily felt dirty and out of place compared to the beautiful and collected Jaden. If the goal was to catch a man’s eye, Jaden had played the game right, but Grant didn’t seem to notice. Though they were side by side, his back was to her as he steadied his bike against a tree. He’d missed her whole act.

  “I bet you’ve been asked this a million times—” Jaden laid a hand on Grant’s forearm, the slightest of touches that said more than that she wanted his attention. “—but are you a plotter or a pantser?”

  Was that question supposed to make sense to anyone but Grant?

  “Even I ask that question sometimes. It’s fun to hear about other authors’ processes—I guess we’re all just trying to figure out the easiest, most efficient way to finish a book. If only there were a magical solution to avoid the hard work.” He smiled at her as they walked toward the table.

  It was sweet how Grant matched his step to hers, though
he was much taller and could have crossed the clearing in a few strides.

  “A mix. I start with a detailed outline,” he explained, “but the story always seems to go a direction I didn’t expect.” He kicked at clump of leaves as he spoke. “Outlining is essential, though, to keep all the clues and subplots organized. Easier on revisions too.”

  “Oh, that makes total sense . . .”

  Not far behind Grant and Jaden, Hattie huffed into the clearing and tossed her bike up against a tree trunk, not bothering to do it carefully. Kian rode around the clearing the opposite direction and stowed his bike and helmet apart from the rigs they’d rented from him.

  “We’d better not let the two of them determine the topic of conversation, or we’ll end up in total snooze-ville,” Finn said, indicating Grant and Jaden. Though he made it look like he was speaking to Emily, he was loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “We’re not here for a university lecture.” She rolled her eyes and giggled like a little girl. “We’re outdoors. At a picnic.”

  Grant glowered at her.

  Okay, so he wasn’t tough enough to take a little ribbing.

  He flicked his eyes pointedly to Jaden and back to Emily’s. His disapproval stung. She and Finn were kidding. And it wasn’t exactly Emily’s fault. Finn had started it. Guilt soured her happy mood. Grant did have a point. She’d fix it.

  “Tell me about you, Jaden.” Emily patted the seat next to her, and Jaden sat down. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a music teacher.” With a sparkle in her eye, she spoke about the choir she’d taken to state the year before.

  At a gap in the conversation, Grant said something softly to Jaden, pulling her into a side conversation, and Emily felt a pang of jealousy at their private conversation. While something about their earnestness made Emily uncomfortable, if things continued on this path, her job as matchmaker for Grant Robbins was done. Just like Hattie had said, easy-peasy.

  Hattie. Sulking at the edge of the table, Hattie would be on a completely different bench at a completely different table if she could have been. Phone in hand, she flicked through social media photos of a sandy-haired man with slightly crooked features and a big smile. Emily wasn’t close enough to see for sure, but it had to be Martin Merrick. Like Emily didn’t have enough guilt as it was.

  She sighed. She was messing this whole thing up, and honestly, barring a do-over, she wasn’t sure how to salvage it. Sadly, there was no redo button. Instead, she pulled herself together, pasted on a smile, and got to work. She would ignore Finn’s flirts, the stab of Grant’s censure, and the pain of his growing interest in Jaden, as well as Hattie’s depression. She’d work to charm the best out of them all and salvage the afternoon—then she’d eat a pint of ice cream and go to bed early, because matchmaking was exhausting work.

  8

  A few days later, on her way back from visiting Isabella and her girls in Bentonville, Emily made the last-minute decision to take a slight detour into The Mountain Cove to debrief Grant about the bike tour group date. Using the voice feature on her phone, she called Annalise to see if he was available.

  “Now’s fine,” Annalise said, her voice cheery. “I’ll call up to security and let them know you’re coming.”

  For someone who’d been a stickler about being Grant’s schedule-keeper, Emily wasn’t having much trouble getting Annalise to agree to her impromptu visits. She had the feeling that the timing, coming between work and dinner, only helped her cause.

  A couple minutes later, Grant met her in the sitting room off the foyer, dressed in athletic shorts and a dry-fit shirt. Her stomach flipped. That was not what she’d been expecting.

  “Sorry for dropping by. It looks like you’re busy.” She waved at the way he was dressed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your workout.”

  “No worries. Annalise caught me before we started.” He leaned against a column and crossed his arms, expectant.

  He probably wanted her to get down to business, but she didn’t want to. Not yet. He’d piqued her interest. “We?” Did he work out with Annalise?

  “Callum. My trainer.”

  “Oh.” Emily nodded. He had a trainer. The things rich guys did. This was an interesting side to the Grant she’d thought she’d known. “What do you do to work out?”

  Grant raised his palms and dropped them. “All kinds of things. Tonight is sparring night.”

  An unexpected thrill shot through Emily. “How fun!”

  Grant’s eyebrows pulled together, confusion all over his face. “Don’t tell me you—”

  “Yes!” she interrupted. She didn’t know exactly how he’d planned to finish that statement, but the answer to any and all of his questions would be yes. Yes, she did it. Yes, she loved it. Yes, she would watch them. Yes, she’d love to face him.

  He reached out for her hand and lifted it, his touch electrifying on top of the thrill of the fight. He looked pointedly at her French manicure. “You want to spar?” His expression was all skepticism.

  She snatched her hand back. He was only touching her to insult her. She folded her arms, tucking her hands into her sides. Her stance mirrored his a few minutes before, and she hoped he took it as a challenge. “Yeah. Me.” She sized him up. “I could take you. If you have time.”

  He scoffed. “I have ten minutes. But it will only take two.”

  “Oh, you are on.” She looked down at her jeans and silky blouse. She might have spoken too soon.

  Noticing, Grant said, “I’m sure Annalise can help you with that.”

  “I have shoes in my car.”

  While Grant sent a text or two, she ran out to retrieve her running shoes. When she came back in, Grant’s housekeeper led Emily to a small dressing room in the basement where clothes had been laid out for her. After changing into clothes similar to his, she pulled a hairband from her bag and secured her shoulder-length hair into a stubby ponytail. Chances were a few locks would escape, but it would keep the bulk of her hair from interfering. After one last look in the mirror, she stepped into the hallway where Grant waited.

  “It’s just down here.” He opened the door into a cavernous room, bright with overhead florescent lights. Big enough to house a full basketball court, the room had weights and mats and a couple of climbing walls.

  Her eyes bugged out in shock. The way his house was built into the bluff—looking like it was only two stories from the street, but being much bigger lakeside—she hadn’t guessed a room this size was hidden in the basement.

  “You ready?” He led her to a bench beside the open mat. From a locker, he pulled out a couple of pairs of shin guards and boxing gloves. “We’ll skip the helmets if you promise to take it easy on me.” Grant’s snide teasing was only going to make this more fun.

  He had his protective gear on before she did, and as soon as she stepped onto the mat, he assumed a defensive position. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  The first thing she would do was wipe that smirk off his face, and if he didn’t tick her off, she’d be careful not to hurt him. She started out easy, throwing a couple of jabs at about forty- to fifty-percent strength. Though she didn’t intend to land anything—at least not to his face, it would be a shame to mess it up—she wanted to show him off the bat that she was no novice.

  Being on the mat with him, listening to his breathing, and concentrating on his form not only raised her heartbeat; it was doing other funky things to her insides that she doubted had anything to do with the exercise. It wouldn’t be so bad if he had the same reaction to her, but if he was affected by her, he wasn’t showing it.

  To distract her heart, she focused on the reason she’d stopped by. “Impressions from Saturday?” She threw a jab at his side. “Should I schedule any follow-up dates, or keep looking?”

  He deflected easily and with good form, so she threw a couple of combinations in a cross, a kick to his side, and a jab.

  His eyes tightened with concentration as he turned aside, his hands still up. “I’m
not sold yet.”

  She wasn’t sure how to take that. Upping her intensity, she put a little more power behind her attacks. “No date with Jaden?” She landed a few shots to his gloves and guards, the sounds of the contact and their exertion filling the space between words.

  “Is there another option?” His eyes caught hers, infusing more meaning than the words suggested.

  Caught off guard, she hesitated. If he’d been trying to win this match, he could have done so. She swallowed. “I could look into it.” She pushed forward with a fresh attack, gaining ground as he retreated, but he looked so good doing it.

  For a moment, her brain tricked her into thinking that maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling flutters of attraction, but then reality brought her back to focus. If Grant was the least bit interested in her, he would ask her out and the matchmaker pretense would be over. But he hadn’t. No, her best bet was to do what she’d been hired to do and maybe pass the time flirting with Finn—the safe choice, the one who might not even be around long term, the one who could distract her while she found someone for Grant.

  He sidestepped and twisted to avoid a few of her kicks. “Nice.”

  She could tell he was impressed.

  It wasn’t enough, especially if he’d been looking for a workout. “Come on, Grant.” She threw a cross that would have made contact if she’d been trying. “Give me a real challenge. You can’t be all defense. It’s not fair to either of us.” Still nowhere near throwing or kicking as hard as she could, she landed a string of offensive attacks until he joined in, throwing a couple of kicks and jabs as well.

  Now that they were both engaged in the match, the challenge was on. She pressed forward in their dance, landing four or five touches to his one until she had him unsteady on his feet. Seeing her opportunity, she swiped out with a foot and pushed on his chest, throwing him to the ground. He landed with a soft thud, and she couldn’t help being satisfied.