Mr. Accidental Cowboy_Jet City Matchmaker Series_Dylan

by Gina Robinson

  “Why, thank you, cowboy. You have a mighty high opinion of me, and I appreciate it. Give me your phone.” I held out my hand for it. When he handed it to me, I typed my contact info in.

  His brow furrowed as he read it. “Odette? You don’t think we’re ready to be on a first-name basis after…” He grinned and nodded toward the bed.

  “Let’s keep the mystery going a little longer.” I handed him my phone. “Give me your number so I’ll know to answer. I don’t pick up numbers that aren’t in my contact info.”

  He grinned, typed, and handed my phone back.

  “Cowboy,” I read aloud. “All right, cowboy. I look forward to your call.” I pointed a finger at him. “No ghosting me.”

  He laughed and took my hand again. “Not a chance.” He peeked out the door. “No matchmaker. Let’s make a break for it.”

  We ran down the hall, trying to hold our laughter in. Waiting for the elevator, we both nearly cracked up. He shook his head and put a finger to his lips, looking so funny that he didn’t help.

  When the elevator arrived, it was empty. We tumbled in. When the doors were safely closed, we broke out laughing. He hit the button for the lobby.

  “Let’s hope no one calls the elevator back—”

  He pulled me into a kiss, cutting off the rest of what I had to say. It didn’t matter anyway. As soon as he kissed me, I was lost. Any rational thoughts deserted me. Who knew I would be falling this hard for Dylan?

  13

  Dylan

  The rules are the rules. I texted Ashley first thing in the morning, as early as I could get away with. I needed a consultation with my matchmaker. And I needed to confess.

  She replied immediately, asking me to meet her for breakfast in one of the restaurants on the ground floor. When I arrived, she was, as always, completely put together and looking beautiful, peacefully, and elegantly, sipping a cup of coffee while she waited for me, looking like a model in a fashion spread. She was a perfect match for Lazer, his complementing, fashionable bookend.

  She looked up when I approached the table and lifted an eyebrow. “No Laura?”

  I pounded my heart with my fist. “You got me.” I took a seat opposite her and turned over the coffee cup on the table.

  “You just confessed,” she said. “You know that, right? I was only guessing.”

  “Savor your victory. I was going to confess anyway.” I grabbed a menu. “You just made it easier.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You broke the cardinal rule, cowboy.”

  “Did I?” I said. “Five dates. That’s the rule, as I recall.”

  “Or when you go exclusive.” She studied me closely, but her voice was a soft and pleasant as always. She was impossible to ruffle. Unless you were Lazer. “Preferably exclusive.”

  “It’s an either/or rule, as I understand it,” I said. “And, FYI, Laura and I have had five dates, counting last night.”

  Ashley shot me a wary look. “You two actually dated in high school?”

  I nodded. “A few times. She stood me up for prom.” I leaned back as a waiter filled my coffee cup, letting Ashley digest my revelation.

  “Whoa. Why did I not know this?” She gave me a piercing look.

  “Need to know.” I took a sip of coffee.

  “I’m your matchmaker. I have a need-to-know by default.”

  “Would it have changed your mind about us being perfect together?” I was genuinely curious.

  “It was a long time ago,” she said, and took a sip of her coffee. “You were just high school kids. Were there extenuating circumstances?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t then, but now I was beginning to think there were. “She ditched me for a more popular guy at the last minute. I had the corsage, the tux rental, the dinner reservations, the party bus booked. Cost me a helluva lot of my hard-earned dollars for nothing.”

  Ashley’s brow gently puckered. “Now I’m getting a better picture of why each of you wished you could start fresh.”

  I nodded and took a sip of coffee, but she really had no idea.

  “Where is Laura? You sent her home without breakfast?”

  “She left in the wee hours of the morning. She wasn’t ready for an overnight.” I grinned, realizing my statement could have been taken as a boast or, conversely, a slam. “But I think it was more that she didn’t want to sleep in her mask. Those feathers were practically lethal…”

  “You kept the masks on?” Ashley’s eyes went wide. She sounded genuinely surprised and looked amused. “That’s taking my rules to the extreme, isn’t it?”

  “You said no masks off until we were outside the building.” I laughed, but became serious quickly. “Both of us wanted to keep the fantasy going as long as possible.”

  Our waiter paused by our table and asked if we were ready to order. Ashley ordered an egg white omelet. I ordered the monster scramble. A night of dancing had made me hungry.

  I waited until the waiter left before continuing. “So you see the problem. I promised her I’d text—”

  “And you don’t want to?”

  “I want to.” I swallowed hard. “I’m just not sure how to…what to do when we see each other again. We both knew who the other was, but we avoided it. It was nice to start fresh and get to know each other now. But the time of reckoning is coming.”

  “You still hold your teenage past against her?” Ashley opened her mouth to say more.

  I cut her off. “No.” I shook my head and grinned. “What kind of an immature douche do you think I am?”

  “Then what? There’s more, isn’t there? There’s more going on than you’re telling me. What really happened in high school?”

  I took a deep breath and dropped my gaze to the table. “That’s not my story to tell.”

  “All right. I respect that.” She was quiet a moment. “How bad is it, whatever happened?”

  “Bad enough.”

  “Have you ever discussed it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Maybe you should.”

  I nodded. “Maybe that’s what we were avoiding.” I took my own moment of silence, thinking. “Thank you for giving us a fresh start. It proved to both of us that we’re good together.”

  “Of course.”

  I paused again. “It’s going to be damned awkward meeting without the masks.” I blew out a breath. “I’ve been going over and over scenarios in my mind. When I see her again, do I act surprised? Laugh it off? How do I act?”

  “From the heart.” Ashley smiled at me. “You say what feels natural in the moment.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

  She was probably right.

  “Send her a flirty text and ask her on a date.”

  “It’s that simple?” I said. “Even with…”

  Ashley nodded. “Take her on a date that shows you put thought into it. That you knew all along who she was and you’re thrilled to be with her. Let her see how forgiving you are and how much you like her. Take her someplace where you two can talk if she wants to. Someplace with some privacy. If she’s the woman for you, she’ll love every minute of it, and you, for being such a great, understanding guy.”

  “And sexy,” I said.

  She laughed. “That goes without saying.”

  I’d reached my limit of talking about me. “Speaking of breakfast partners—where’s Lazer this morning?”

  Her face clouded. “Upstairs making some business calls.” She smoothed out her face and grinned. “I told him he wasn’t welcome at this meeting. That it was a private, confidential consultation with a client.”

  She wasn’t fooling me. She’d tensed when I mentioned Lazer.

  “You two are okay, then?” Maybe I shouldn’t have butted in, but I wasn’t approaching Lazer blind.

  “We’re fine,” she said. “What makes you think we’re not?”

  I cleared my throat and studied the table, unable to look her in the eye. “We heard you and Laz
er arguing when you came up to your room last night.” I looked up at her.

  She paled just slightly. “The walls are that thin?” She laughed at herself and smiled. But she didn’t deny it.

  “You were in the hall when we were trying to sneak Laura out.”

  “Oh.” Her smile didn’t wobble, but it was clear that I’d rattled her. “We were both tired. We kissed and made up. We’re fine now.”

  They may have been fine, but I didn’t believe they were great. And they had always been great together, from the very beginning.

  “What are you waiting for?” Ashley said. “Text Laura. Unless I miss my guess, she’s waiting for your text with her phone in her hand.”

  *

  Laura

  How long do you wait for a guy to text you back? When a guy says he’s going to text you, how long does he wait? It was a game that sounded like something teenagers played, not adults. But it was one of those weird facts of life, that no matter how old and mature you were, the rules didn’t change. The emotions didn’t change. And surprisingly, they didn’t even get that much more sophisticated. I’d been ghosted too many times to be completely trusting of any guy’s word, even that of a masked cowboy I’d known since childhood.

  Thinking of Dylan brought a smile to my face and tripped up my heart. Last night…

  Well, last night was the best time I’d ever had with a guy, masked or not, from this world or not. I was as eager to see him again and repeat it as I’d ever been about anything. I was also as nervous. So much was at stake now.

  Ashley had given me my wish—to meet Dylan as if for the first time. I hadn’t thought it was possible. To be honest, I’d posed it as a dream scenario, not something that could be accomplished. And yet she’d come up with a way to make it happen. She should get a matchmaker of the year award or something. She was definitely getting a five-star review on Yelp or wherever from me. The matchmaker who solved problems creatively, that deserved praise. She’d gone above and beyond.

  The costumes, all those silly rules, masks being worn at all times, registering your costume—all that had been done for us. For Dylan mostly, but me also, because I was the one Ashley thought he belonged with. All of that brought tears to my eyes, and I wasn’t generally an emotional woman. You really can’t be when you hang out in the lab with a bunch of male engineers. Most of them were sweet and sympathetic, but a nearly all-male environment was no place to show feminine weakness of any kind, not if I wanted to be taken seriously. There was no way I ever wanted to be accused of being a token woman in the bunch or have any indication I couldn’t pull my weight. And I was a big woman. I had a lot of weight to pull.

  All of this to say that I waited for Dylan’s text, jumping at any noise at all, not just at sounds that could be vaguely interpreted as sounding remotely like a text pinging in.

  Steph FaceTimed me early to ask how it went and how my costume went over. One look at me and she clucked her tongue. “Why are you showered, dressed, hair done, and make up on at this early hour?”

  I shrugged.

  “Oh,” she said, nodding. “I get it. You’re hoping he’ll FaceTime. Or, at least, allowing for the possibility and not wanting to be caught not looking your best. If you’re thinking he’ll break with tradition and FaceTime rather than text, my costume must have worked even better than I’d hoped.”

  I had to tell her it was perfect, except for the obvious difficulty in getting out of it. To the point where I didn’t, completely.

  “That was to keep you honest and make you obey the rules. Don’t tell me that despite me putting you in the modern-day equivalent of a chastity belt, he got you in bed and stole your virtue. And you could breathe in that corset while he ravaged you?”

  I laughed at her intentionally indignant tone and description. Steph was always good for making me laugh. “Virtue indeed. Yes, I could breathe.”

  “No swooning?” She shook her head. “I knew it! I should have laced you tighter for your own good.” She gave me a mock-stern look and shook her finger at me. “You broke the cardinal rule. Tsk, tsk. You naughty girl. Next time I’ll have to up my security measures considerably.” She laughed. “All right, are you going to keep me in suspense? After all I did for you, I deserve details.”

  She was my best friend. Of course I gave her details. And confessed my worries at the end.

  “Wow,” she said. “You must be in love. You sound more insecure than I’ve ever heard you.”

  “I did break the cardinal rule.” I shrugged again. “Ashley claims it’s based on research and experience. Couples need to get to know each other as people and friends before, you know.”

  “You give me all the details and then you go all maidenish on me?” She laughed again.

  “You know me. I looked up her data and verified it.” I blew out a sigh. “And he hasn’t texted yet.”

  “Calm down,” she said. “It’s all of ten o’clock. He probably isn’t even out of bed yet. He probably assumes you aren’t, either. Who gets up this early after a late night out like you had?” She winked.

  “A woman who’s eager to see a guy again,” I said. “This is like Christmas—waiting and hoping Santa gives you what you want. And afraid to find out he didn’t.”

  “Give him some time, girlfriend. If your evening with him was half as wonderful and fun as you made it sound, he’s going to be as eager to repeat it as you are.”

  “I’m not so sure we should repeat it too soon.” I bit my lip. “Not exactly in that way.”

  “I should hope not.” She made a comical face. “If you two continue to wear costumes and masks on all your dates, I’m going to start to wonder about you.”

  “Yeah, about that.” My mouth went dry just from thinking about it. “Being unmasked is what I’m worried about.”

  “I still can’t believe you wore your mask even during…” She was obviously amused by the thought. “My fabulous eye makeup job gone to waste.”

  “I’m serious here.”

  “All right,” she said. “Duly noted. Don’t freak out. First, you know this guy from forever. Do you think he’s the kind who will ghost you now?”

  “No.”

  “Nor do I,” she said. “Second, you both knew who you were with.”

  I nodded.

  “And you made it clear, even if it was subtle, that you were sorry for how you treated him when you were in school?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then you have nothing to fear,” she said. “When you see him again, you make it clear you knew who he was all along. And you act as happy as humanly possible, which I think means as euphoric as you are, and even happier that you were right it was him. If you feel it’s necessary, you apologize for the past. And then you take it from there.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is, you ninny.” She held the phone close and stuck her tongue out at me, making me laugh.

  My phone buzzed in my hand. I literally jumped.

  Steph’s eyes went wide. “Is that him?”

  I nodded.

  “A text or a call?”

  “A text.”

  “And?” She shook her head again, mumbling about having to pry everything out of me. “What does it say?”

  I smiled so broadly that I nearly ran out of face. “A bunch of nice things about last night.” I read them to myself. “He wants to see me again!”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  “I can’t reply immediately,” I said. “It will look like I was hovering and just waiting for his text.”

  “But you were,” she said, laughing. “Games are for children, Laura, my darling. Show the man how eager you are. Put him out of his misery and reply. I’m hanging up now. Good luck.”

  14

  Laura

  Saturday

  A week is an agonizing eternity to wait when you’re eager to see someone again. But a week it was. A week of fun, flirty texts that kept the anonymity gag going, of getting
“to know each other better.” A week of wondering what to say, what to wear, what to do when I saw him again. What excuses did I make for the past?

  Dylan insisted on sending an Uber to pick me up and deliver me to our surprise date location. He told me to dress comfortably for the outdoors and walking. This date was going to be fun and casual. And to bring my mask so he could recognize me.

  I laughed at that. He was carrying this farther and farther. It was sweet of him, but the moment of reckoning was coming.

  Late Saturday morning, an Uber picked me up in front of my apartment. I slid into it with my mask in one hand, my purse in the other. “I assume you know where we’re going?”

  The driver was an older man—stocky, gray hair and beard. He smiled. “I do. I’ve been requested not to give our destination out. Just relax. It’s not far away. A little over half an hour this time of day.”

  The driver was right in his estimate. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that it was drowning everything else out. I was so nervous. I could barely think straight. I did, however, think straight enough to recognize we were on Capitol Hill. And then to realize we were pulling into Volunteer Park, which is a local landmark. A pretty park, at least from the pictures I’d seen of it. I’d never actually been to it.

  Romantic? The jury was out on that, but I understood the need for walking shoes now. Fortunately, it was a warm, pleasant spring morning. The birds were singing. The trees were bursting into bloom all around the city—pink and white flowering plums and cherry trees. Daffodils, tulips, and crocuses were blooming. It put the spring in “hope springs eternal.”

  We pulled into the parking lot. Dylan was waiting for us, mask in hand, straight face, corners of his mouth twitching just enough to let me know he was struggling not to break into a grin. And yet, despite his bravado and confident pose, he was nervous. I could tell. I knew him that well. I recognized that look from our school days.

  I’d thought my heart was running away and deafening in my ears before. But that was nothing compared to this.

  “Go on.” The driver smiled at me and nodded toward the park. He was an old romantic softie too. “He told me to let you know I’m to wait for you until you make up your mind about…him, I guess. In case you don’t like what you see and want to leave. I take it this is a blind date? One of those online dating things?”