Once Upon a Matchmaker

by Marie Ferrarella

  He wasn’t sure just how much longer he could hold out.

  Tracy was far from experienced. To her, lovemaking wasn’t casual, or undertaken because too much alcohol was involved and caution was being tossed to the winds. She had never come to a man in that condition.

  Her only real requirement was that affection had to exist on some level for any of this to happen. Preferably very strong affection.

  The way it was now.

  Granted, she’d had a beer with Micah, but that drink in no way impaired her judgment. As much as her head was spinning right at this point, her thinking had been completely clear at the outset.

  She wanted this, had been denying to herself that she wanted this with every single atom within her body.

  Tracy arched against the incredible magic of his lips and tongue as they branded her. She didn’t know where she wanted him to anoint her next. It was as if every square inch of her wanted its turn at the same time.

  Immediately.

  Twisting into him, Tracy surprised him by suddenly pulling his face closer to hers, sealing her mouth to his while urgently pressing her throbbing body against his rock-solid one.

  Anticipation scissored through her, making it oh so very difficult for her to contain herself.

  Yet somehow, she managed.

  Just as she was ready to straddle him, to take the lead and join their two bodies, Micah slid his body along hers again.

  Electricity radiated all through her, chased along by another jolt of anticipation.

  With the palms of his hands bracketing her face so that he could look directly into her eyes, Micah entered her with a forceful and yet, somehow, incredibly gentle thrust.

  Tracy sucked in her breath, her heart hammering hard. The timeless dance began.

  The tempo built and increased as his hips rocked against hers more and more urgently.

  Without realizing it, Tracy dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding on as she instinctively matched move for move—until she and Micah finally hit the very highest peak.

  Together.

  It was sheer ecstasy.

  Tracy bit down hard on her lower lip to keep the cry of pure, guttural enjoyment from escaping and exploding in the air. There was still the tiniest part of her anchored to the world and that part was mindful of not awakening his sons. This was a time for sheer pleasure, not for having to come up with necessary explanations to pint-sized, inquisitive people.

  She felt Micah shiver beneath her hands. Felt his sigh of contentment echoing through his body before it actually emerged.

  That excited her even more.

  Even as the euphoria abated, they remained sealed, almost closer than they had been as the crescendo had been building.

  It seemed almost like a mini-eternity later when he finally raised his head to look at her.

  His head, she realized belatedly, had been resting on her shoulder. The simple action seemed so natural, so right, she felt as if it had been that way forever.

  As if she’d been created to be the other half of his whole.

  The smile on his lips when he looked at her went straight to her gut, turning lights on within her as it made its way all through her.

  Ever so lightly, because he wanted an unobstructed view, Micah brushed aside the stray strands of hair that had fallen into her face.

  His smile deepened.

  As did her reaction to it.

  “Hi,” he murmured. The smile easily slid into his eyes. And into her soul.

  “Hi,” she echoed back.

  Very gently, he shifted his weight from her, lying down at her side and tucking her against him. There was concern in his voice as he asked, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tracy admitted. And then she saw the look of apprehension come into his eyes. She strove to lighten the mood. “That was my very first out-of-body experience, and I’m not altogether sure of anything right now.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Out-of-body experience, huh?”

  She nodded her head slowly, as if afraid that she would be dizzy again. “Uh-huh.”

  “I think I felt a little bit of that happening myself,” Micah admitted.

  Raising himself up on his elbow, he looked down at her. With lovemaking behind him, he’d expected to feel guilt beginning to encroach over him at this point. But he only felt a fresh wave of desire.

  He was more surprised by that than he could possibly say.

  Trailing his fingertips along her tempting, supple body slowly, Micah watched in fascination as he saw her abdomen quiver in response.

  “If you feel up to it,” he whispered against her ear, “I’d like to go back on that wild roller-coaster ride again.”

  His breath was warm, creating excitement within her all over again.

  As to his suggestion, this was something new. Neither her husband, nor the less-than-handful of others before him, had ever voiced a desire to go back for seconds. And even if they had wanted to make love with her for a second time in one encounter, she was more than certain that they wouldn’t have asked her if she felt up to it. They would have just gone ahead and done it.

  A tenderness toward Micah began to take root within her.

  “An encore?” Tracy asked, both incredulous and amused.

  He hadn’t thought of it in those terms. The word made him grin again. “If you like.”

  A laugh bubbled up within her in response to his words and to his grin. She nodded her head ever so slightly. “I’d like.”

  She could have sworn that half a heartbeat before Micah’s lips came down on hers, she heard him whisper, “Perfect.”

  That did it for her. Tracy didn’t need anything else to make her respond enthusiastically, to throw herself with gusto into a second round of lovemaking.

  A second round that ultimately turned out to be even more teeth-jarringly satisfying than the first round.

  * * *

  It was close to two in the morning when Tracy opened her eyes. The realization that somehow she’d managed to fall asleep in his arms now roused her into a wakeful state.

  The fog cleared from her brain. A beat later, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so very contented in her life.

  Lovemaking, cures what ails you, she thought, amused even though she knew she should have felt upset with herself at this glaring breach of behavior.

  There was no excuse for what she’d done.

  He was a man, men did these kinds of thing all the time. But it was different for her. This just wasn’t like her.

  God knew she certainly didn’t take lovemaking casually.

  And yet, they’d come together—wildly and passionately—three times before she’d drifted off, exhausted and happy.

  Three times.

  And she’d loved every second of it.

  This was a completely new side of her, Tracy couldn’t help thinking. Learn something every day, she mused. And then she looked over to her left.

  Micah was breathing evenly. He was still asleep. She needed to make her retreat now, before he woke up and tempted her to stay.

  If he wanted her to stay, she reminded herself. Just because they’d made love didn’t mean that he was about to swear his undying love or his allegiance to her, or even his mild interest in her.

  Last night was last night, and now was now. She had to remember that and not allow herself to get carried away. Men made love to women all the time and it meant less than nothing to them.

  It meant far more than that to her, even if she didn’t want it to.

  Ever so slowly, almost in slow motion, Tracy moved her legs until they were clear of the bed and she could draw herself up into a sitting position. Clearing the bed was a process that was equally painstakingly slow.

  She didn’t want to take a chance on inadvertently waking him up.

  Moonlight filtered into the room and she could see where most of her clothes were scattered on the floor. If she moved carefully, she could gather th
em together and slip out of the room without waking him. She could get dressed in the bathroom she’d noticed down the hall.

  Separating herself from the bed, Tracy slowly rose and then quietly made her way over to her clothes.

  So far, so good.

  “Leaving?”

  She’d almost screamed, but managed to clamp her lips shut at the last minute.

  The question, posed in a voice that hadn’t a trace of sleep in it, had her freezing in place, as if a layer of ice had been sprayed on her limbs.

  Her breath trapped in her throat, Tracy turned around and looked at the man who had turned her world upside down, made her forsake her ethics, and had reduced her to the consistency of wonton soup.

  Micah’s eyes were open and he was watching her. For how long?

  “You’re awake,” she finally heard herself say.

  Humor curved the corners of his mouth. “Looks that way.” Micah sat up, the tangled sheet barely offering him the courtesy of strategic cover. “Can’t stay the night?” he questioned.

  “I thought it might be easier for you if you didn’t have to explain to the boys in the morning what I was doing here. Or explain it to your aunt, for that matter.”

  “The boys wouldn’t think anything of it,” he told her easily. “Most likely, they’d be happy to see you here and want to play. As for my aunt, she wouldn’t need an explanation. I’m pretty sure she’d know what you were doing here.” The light was poor, but he was almost certain Tracy was blushing. He found that oddly stirring and appealing. “And, if I know her, after discovering you in my bed, Aunt Sheila would probably set off a whole box of fireworks to celebrate.”

  She looked at him uncertainly. That didn’t make any sense to her. “Celebrate?”

  He nodded. “She’s been after me to get back into ‘the game,’ as she puts it, for a year now.” His eyes met hers and he patted the space beside him. The space that still retained her warmth.

  For a second, Tracy was fiercely tempted to drop the clothes she was holding and slip back into bed beside him. But she was well aware that if she gave in at this point, it would be harder on her in the long run.

  She’d slipped and weakened, but it was better just to have this one instance than to consciously set up the groundwork for a brief, albeit absolutely delicious, interlude. She knew herself. Happy as she’d be, she would wind up holding her breath, waiting for it all to end.

  And even though maybe Micah had forgotten—or thought he could just plow his way through this—he still needed a lawyer and she’d do him more good in that capacity than as his part-time lover. At least there, as his lawyer, she knew what she was doing.

  As his lover, she hadn’t a clue.

  “I’d still better go,” she told him, hugging her clothes to her as if they could somehow shield her from her own feelings.

  His eyes still held hers. Very slowly, he nodded. “I won’t hold you against your will.”

  Tracy began to protest. “It’s not that it’s against my—”

  Shut up, Tracy, she upbraided herself sharply. Just take the easy way out.

  “It’s okay,” he told her, not wanting her to have to struggle with her conscience. “You need to do what you think is right. Oh, by the way,” he called after her just as she reached for the doorknob.

  Turning, Tracy looked over her shoulder at him, not trusting herself to go back. Was he calling her back? she wondered. “Yes?”

  “You’re not fired anymore.”

  It was hard to see with just the moonlight illuminating the room, especially since the upper part of his torso was in shadow, but she could have sworn he was grinning as he lay back down.

  After a moment, she slipped out of the room. But she had to force herself to do it.

  Chapter Eleven

  In an attempt to distract herself and keep her mind from endlessly reliving every exquisite second of her one night with Micah, Tracy threw herself into her work with even more verve than usual.

  Ordinarily, she was blessed with laserlike focus and the ability to shut out every extraneous distraction.

  Ordinarily.

  But her life had taken a turn that by no means could be described as “ordinary.” There definitely had been nothing ordinary about making love with Micah Muldare.

  Consequently, despite her very best efforts and intentions, Tracy’s mind kept wandering and finding its way back to Micah and the magical experience that they had shared together. But even when she allowed herself a few moments to revel and relive, Tracy mocked herself for the direction that her thoughts and feelings were taking.

  “You know damn well he couldn’t possibly be reacting to what happened the same way you are,” she muttered to herself as she deleted an entire paragraph she’d just written. It read as if it had been constructed by a five-year-old.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  Tracy’s head jerked up. She struggled not to allow her embarrassment to color her cheeks a bright, telltale shade of pink.

  She pressed her lips together and tried to sound calm as she asked Kate Manetti, “How long have you been standing there?”

  Kate grinned. It was an amused grin, but a sympathetic one, as well. “Long enough to realize that someone has finally rung your chimes,” she quipped. Crossing the threshold, Kate closed the door behind her before she approached her friend’s desk. “Nice to know you’re human like the rest of us.”

  Tracy shrugged carelessly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The smile on Kate’s lips was tolerant. And then she repeated, word for word, what she’d just heard as she was walking by her friend’s office.

  “‘You know damn well he couldn’t possibly be reacting to what happened the same way you are.’” She leaned over Tracy’s desk, getting closer to her. “Ring any bells?”

  “I was just going over this case.” Tracy nodded at the computer screen. “I guess I must have said what I was thinking out loud.” Okay, so it was lame, Tracy freely admitted. But it was the best she could come up with, cornered like this.

  “Uh-huh.” She looked at Tracy knowingly. “Your nose might not be growing, but your cheeks are getting pinker and pinker, Pinocchio. I’d suggest coming clean before you turn into a bright, flaming shade of hot pink. It wouldn’t look good on you.”

  “There’s nothing to come clean about,” Tracy insisted, banking down her desperation.

  Kate shrugged, as if what her friend said made no difference one way or another.

  “Suit yourself,” she said, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Oh, I almost forgot, while you were in court this morning, ‘nothing’ called and was switched into my office by mistake. I took a message.” She extracted a small pink piece of paper expressly used to write down phone messages. Before handing it to Tracy, Kate held it up as if comparing the color of the paper to the color that was gracing Tracy’s cheek. “Almost there,” she observed.

  A few choice words hovered on the tip of Tracy’s tongue, but she managed to swallow them without uttering a single one. She pulled the message from Kate’s fingers and glanced at it.

  “He’s confirming tonight’s meeting. Where’s it going to be?” Kate teased, then went on to create the appropriate scenario. “At some intimate little restaurant, a table for two with steamy candlelight the only illumination in the place?”

  Oh, damn. Tracy stared at the small pink square of paper. Their meeting. She’d forgotten all about it. She’d left time and place up to him, wanting to allow him to feel as if he had some control over the situation. And it had slipped her mind.

  How was she going to face him? she asked herself, a wave of something close to almost panic washing over her.

  Concerned now, Kate leaned over the desk again. “Hey, are you all right?”

  “No,” Tracy confessed. The very fact that she had just made that admission told her that she was in a weakened frame of mind. Maybe she should just skip the meeting, reschedule it and go home.

  Kat
e sat down opposite her. “Want to talk about it?”

  The reply came without hesitation, without even a second’s debate. “No.” She was accustomed to fending for herself.

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere until you do,” Kate informed the other woman without any bravado.

  She must have seen the flash of impatience in Tracy’s eyes. “I’m not being nosy,” Kate told her quietly. “I’m being a friend. And concerned. This isn’t like you,” she said, referring to her behavior.

  No, no it wasn’t. Or maybe it actually was and that other persona, the focused one who won case after case by doggedly working on every scrap of information that was tossed her way, wasn’t really her.

  At this point, Tracy honestly didn’t know which was real and which was not.

  Taking a deep breath, she dragged her hand through her hair, a sure sign that she felt, consciously or unconsciously, that she had her back against the wall and was outmatched and outgunned.

  A burst of feeling passed through her. Looking up at Kate, she said, “I slept with him.”

  She said it so quietly. Perplexed, cocking her head so that her ear was closer to Tracy’s mouth, Kate asked, “What?”

  And then, as if it was all on some five-second-delay relay, the words registered in Kate’s head. Her eyes widened.

  “Slept with who?” Kate asked and then, that too seemed to answer itself. “Muldare?” Kate asked in a hushed whisper, her eyes never leaving Tracy’s face.

  Tracy’s mouth had gone entirely dry so rather than speak, she just nodded her head.

  “How was he?” Kate asked. “Never mind,” she said, waving a dismissive hand at her own question. “I can see how he was.”

  Startled, Tracy looked at her. Was she that transparent? And if Kate could see, did that mean that Micah could, too? What had Micah seen when he looked at her? She sought to somehow tamp down her mounting dismay and quiet her nerves. “What do you mean?”

  “Honey, you’re making as much sense as a melted popsicle. He rocked your world, plain and simple. I can see that and all I can say is that it’s about damn time!” Kate concluded, obviously happy for her friend.