Perfectly Matched: ...And the Rest of the Matchmaking Chef Books

by Maddie James

  When her eyes had fluttered up at him briefly during the ascent up the stairs, he’d gotten a flash of sea-blue that sent something in the pit of him into a downward spiral.

  If so, he hoped he would get to stare into them much longer this evening.

  “Later. Don’t wait up.”

  ****

  Her stomach in knots, Mary Lou looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself. Suzie looked over her shoulder and smiled.

  “I do good projects,” her new friend exclaimed.

  “So now I’m a project.”

  “Of sorts.” Suzie smiled. “I meant it in a good way. You look beautiful, Mary.”

  One corner of her mouth twitched upward into a half-grin. “Better than durable?”

  Suzie squeezed her shoulders. “Oh sweetie, much better than durable.” She stepped back.

  “Now, I’m tending to the rest of dinner. Don’t come down until I call you. I want you to make a grand entrance.” She moved toward the door. “And oh yeah, remember, it’s Mary instead of Mary Lou, okay? Sounds a bit more grown-up.”

  “Sure.”

  Suzie left and Mary continued to stare at herself. Mary. She was going to start referring to herself that way, too, even after tonight. Why she’d not thought of it before was beyond her, but she did feel more mature leaving off the Lou.

  Looking to her feet, laced into a pair of Suzie’s red strappy, two-inch heeled sandals, and sporting a matching blaze red pedicure, she prayed her grand entrance did not include falling into a heap at Nash’s feet.

  Again.

  Buffed and spit-shined, she didn’t look half-bad, though.

  No, damn if she didn’t look beautiful.

  “Just get through dinner,” she whispered, looking into her reflection, one that she had to take a double-take to recognize. The coaching, the hair, the makeup, the borrowed clothes—she had no idea she could look, and feel, so darn sexy, and loved the magic Suzie had worked on her this afternoon.

  Now, if she could pull it off.

  The phone rang on the night stand. Butterflies.

  One ring.

  Two.

  That was the signal.

  With one last look in the mirror, Mary took a deep breath and exhaled. “Nash Rhodes,” she whispered with all the confidence she could muster, “I sure as hell hope you are ready for me.” When in fact, deep in her gut, she wondered if she was ready for him.

  ****

  The table was set for four.

  Nash settled himself into a chaise lounge on the deck behind the Matthews’ house while Brad handed him a beer. Leaning back, he relaxed, crossing his boots at the ankles and placing his Resistol on a nearby table. The late summer evening was pleasant—not too hot nor humid—which was a gift for this Tennessee August day. The lake fanned out at the bottom of the hill in front of them. Across the smooth water, he could see the lodge Brad owned and where the outdoor concert was to be held tomorrow evening. He hoped the cooler weather stayed around for another twenty-four hours.

  “You’ve got yourself a nice place here, Matthews.”

  Brad turned a couple of steaks on the grill. “This was Suzie’s place. I lucked into it.”

  Suzie sidled up and bumped him with her hip. “Darned right about that.” Stretching up on her tiptoes, she kissed her husband on the lips. Glancing at Nash, she grinned. “Came looking for me, he did. Couldn’t resist me any longer.”

  Brad reached behind his wife and pinched her on the backside. Suzie squealed and slapped Brad on the buttocks.

  Nash watched their play and grinned. This was what he’d missed. His mom and pop played like that. Obviously, the Matthews couple had a good thing going. If he were half as lucky, he would have a relationship like that at some point in his life.

  Perhaps.

  If the career didn’t get in the way.

  Frowning, he looked out over the peaceful lake. Damn. He had sworn he would not turn somber this evening by brooding over the current state of affairs. He needed his career to take off and stay up. He was on the pinnacle. The Country Music Awards were weeks away and he was up for Male Singer of the Year. He had to concentrate on the music…and a woman, one who came with expectations and longings and plans for the future and commitment, were off the menu for a while.

  He’d have to put his own longings for home and hearth out of his head a little longer. He was too new, too fresh in the field, to let the career slide.

  He lived to play music. A woman would get in the way.

  The sound of heels clicking across the wooden deck brought him out of his musing.

  Gawd. A woman.

  Looking toward the house, she stepped into his line of vision.

  Not just any woman, a beauty.

  A natural, fresh-faced beauty. Not sex-addicted groupie beauty, like the ones he usually encountered when they slipped backstage, and he was glad of that. This woman was small town Tennessee through and through, he could tell, and reminded him somewhat of Suzie.

  And of home.

  He gulped and while continuing his perusal, knew he was in trouble.

  The simple floral sundress she wore showed off her creamy shoulders. Red heels matched the flowers in her dress and the tips of her toes. A simple beaded bracelet, the same color as her shoes, graced one wrist. Her hair, deep brown with golden highlights, was swept up off her neck and caught into a clip, with wisps trailing down on either side of her delicate face.

  Makeup—not a lot, just enough. And lips, Lord help him, plump red lips that hinted of chili peppers and sweet release.

  He glanced away and swore to himself.

  “Nash,” Suzie’s voice came from afar. “This is my friend, Mary. She’s joining us for dinner.”

  Rising, he sat his beer on the table next to the chaise. His voice caught in his throat as he attempted to say a hello, but damn him, if it didn’t squeak out. Lifting a trembling hand, he offered it to her and she tentatively placed hers in his.

  Heaven. Her soft palm was small and tiny in his big rough one. He relished in the notion of protection and for a brief second, wanted to pull her into his body and guard her from anything and everything that might get between them.

  Like life.

  “Nash,” she said, her voice a sweet, smooth caress. “It is so nice to meet you.”

  “The pleasure, ma’am, is all mine.”

  Hell. Was it his hand that was still trembling or hers? At the moment, he couldn’t tell, although she seemed very calm and collected, compared to his sudden, shaken demeanor.

  Sit. They should sit.

  Perhaps she’d join him on the chaise? No. Ridiculous. He glanced to a chair next to his.

  Suzie moved between them then. Thank God. “Why don’t you two sit and talk while we get dinner on the table?”

  “May I help…?”

  He looked to Mary’s eyes while she talked with Suzie. Blue. The little temptress. From this afternoon. Damn…

  “Now Mary, you and Nash are our guests. You know how possessive Brad and I are of our food and preparation. Nothing for you two to do except sit a spell and visit.” She turned and crooked a finger. “In fact, there are a couple of things we need to tend to in the kitchen. Brad? Those steaks look done. Let them rest there beside the grill and come help me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brad grinned and tipped his head to Nash, who was unexpectedly very grateful to be alone with Mary.

  And scared shitless.

  He turned to Mary. “You feeling better?”

  Mary wasn’t quite sure she remembered how to speak. Or sit. Her body frozen to the spot, she could only look forward into Nash Rhodes’ deep set and bottomless pit brown eyes.

  She was trying to be sexy. She was trying to be suave and sophisticated. And she was trying to be herself all at the same time.

  But it wasn’t working, was it?

  Why did she think she could pull this off?

  “Better.”

  There. She eked out one word, followed by a nod. Oh,
God! He knew it was her! From this afternoon. She was hoping he wouldn’t recognize her.

  Not good.

  “How about you sit here,” he motioned toward a chair, “and I’ll sit there,” and then the chaise.

  “Sure.” Her lips were unfreezing now. Two words. She actually said two words.

  Finally, he took her elbow and guided her to the chair. Oh, his fingers were warm and tingly on her elbow.

  She sat and the butterflies in her stomach started to subside. At last, she let out a long-held breath and watched him move to the chaise, and fold his long and lean body into it. He lifted first one leg, and then the other, on the leg rest. Denim-clad and stretched over his thighs, his legs took up the entire length of the chaise and more. He crossed his ankles and she found herself perusing him from the tips of those ostrich boots all the way up to his leather buckled belt and western cut shirt—rolled up on his forearms to expose dark hair on tanned skin; then his open collar revealing another wisp of black chest hair, his face—five o’clock shadowed and sexy as hell—his tousled brown hair, and then back again to those chocolate brown eyes that she could easily get lost in.

  Again, she exhaled.

  “So you live here in Legend?” he asked.

  Oh, conversation would be good. Of course. “Yes,” she replied. “Born and raised here.

  What about you?” Good. That was good, Mary. Comment and then ask a question.

  “I’m a Louisiana boy.” But she knew that. She knew everything about him. But hearing him say “Loosiana” like those deep southerners do, set her heart all atwitter. Man, she liked that southern drawl.

  The butterflies were back again. Where were Suzie and Brad? She had hoped they would help ease some of this awkwardness.

  “I’ve never been to Louisiana. What’s it like? You miss it?” There. Get him talking about himself. That was something Suzie said men like to do.

  “I miss it a helluva lot.” He glanced off toward the lake. “I’m from bayou country. Miss the fishing and the water. The people. In a strange sort of way, Legend reminds me of where I grew up.”

  Her heart fluttered more. He liked Legend? A good thing, right?

  “Legend is a great place to—”

  Just then Suzie burst back onto the deck. “Oh, Mary. Nash? I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I have to tell you that there is something going on at the lodge, and Brad and I need to leave for a while.”

  Both she and Nash stood. Panic ripped across Mary’s mid-section. “Oh, no.” Please don’t leave me!

  “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. There is a rehearsal dinner going on for the Martin wedding and half the staff didn’t show up for some reason. Brad and I have to go work.”

  “Oh, but…” Please do not leave me here with him alone!

  Suzy moved to the grill and removed two steaks to their plates. “The salad is in the refrigerator and there is shrimp and grits on the stove. Please help yourselves, okay? And I am so, so sorry. Gotta run now.”

  And then she was off.

  Then back.

  “Oh, and there is a chocolate torte in the fridge. Please eat the damned thing. I don’t need to add it to my hips.” Then she was gone.

  Mary stared at the back door. She was alone with him. The thing she’d dreamed about for months. And now… Now what? All she wanted to do was run.

  “So,” his deep voice came from behind. “I guess we should eat that steak.”

  Turning, she faced him straight on. He was smiling. And he was gorgeous. Sexy.

  Dangerous. And she felt…oh, so inadequate.

  “We don’t have to. I mean, I know you didn’t come here to eat with me. I mean, since Brad and Suzie have to leave…”

  His smile turned into a frown. “No use wasting a good steak.”

  So it was about the steak, not the company. He didn’t want to be here, did he? She took one step back.

  “It was nice to meet you, Nash, but I know you are busy and probably tired from your travels and…”

  “So you don’t want to stay and eat with me?”

  “Oh, of course I do! It’s, well, I know that you really don’t want to spend time with me. I mean, I’m just, well… I know you weren’t expecting to have to entertain me and…”

  “I think you should calm down and let’s sit and have a nice meal out here on this beautiful evening. Let’s enjoy the lake and the night and…”

  And what else? No. She was not ready for this. For him.

  What the hell am I doing? Who am I kidding?

  Her chest was tight. Had she breathed in the last two minutes? “I… I…”

  Out of the blue her stomach cramped and she didn’t feel so good. Not a good sign. She laid a hand over her belly.

  “Are you ill?”

  Yes, that was it. She was ill. “I don’t know. I… I don’t feel so hot right now.”

  “Perhaps you should go lie down then.”

  “Yes. Yes, maybe I should.”

  “I’ll help you up the stairs.”

  “No!” she said way too loud. “No, I mean, I’ll be fine. I’m not sure what is wrong with me lately.”

  “And you passed out this afternoon, too, so perhaps you should see a doctor.”

  She nodded and backed away, savoring her last look at him. Dammit, am I a fool or what? “Yes, I will do that.”

  She made it to the door. “Nice to meet you, Nash.” Then she turned and ran through the kitchen and upstairs to the guest bedroom where she was staying, locked the door, and collapsed into a heap of self-pity and self-deprecation on the bed.

  “I am such an idiot.”

  A part of her wanted to call Thurman. To hear his voice and feel comforted by someone familiar. Normal. Mundane.

  “Shit,” she whispered into the pillow but didn’t pick up the phone.

  ****

  Nash ate half a steak and didn’t bother with the shrimp and grits, or the salad. The chocolate torte was long forgotten. For all of his nights of eating with the boys, he thought he’d enjoy eating alone for once, but he was wrong. Something was tugging at his gut, too, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  So he cleaned up and put away the food for Suzie and Brad and then made his way down the hill to the lake until sundown. He sat in an old Adirondack chair and watched the ripples in the water and the streaks of red and silver across the sky as the sun descended over the mountain.

  He did relish the silence. Of crickets and tree frogs singing. Of an occasional flopping fish off the dock. Of not much else.

  His brain needed this rest. Leaning his head back against the chair, he closed his eyes and let his mind drift. Just on the edge of consciousness, Mary’s face floated in to beckon him.

  That face was going to nag him for a long time.

  He didn’t blame her for the exit. He knew she was nervous and if he’d admit, he was nervous himself. He was drawn to her for some reason, and it wasn’t a good thing. That’s why he didn’t fight her leaving. As much as he wanted her to stay…to get to know her a little better…he wanted her to leave so the temptation wouldn’t be there.

  He needed to get out of Legend as soon as possible after the concert tomorrow night. This Mary, and the town, and its people, were trouble.

  Not the bad kind, the good kind.

  But he didn’t need any kind of trouble right now.

  Chapter Four

  Mary glanced at the clock on the nightstand. A few minutes after seven. She’d fallen asleep not long after she left Nash and slept fitfully through the night, his face weaving in and out of her dreams. But no longer could she stay in bed.

  Rising, she took one look at herself in the mirror and groaned. Remnants of last night’s makeup still clung to her lips and her lashes. Her hair was mussed, having long fallen out of its clip. The only thing good about her looks were Suzie’s silk pajamas that she’d let her borrow for the weekend.

  Coffee. She needed some to get her juices going this morning. There were no other guests
at the B&B, so she doubted Suzie and Brad would be up so early after their long night. She’d heard them come in sometime after midnight and knew their son Petey was spending the night with his grandparents. Perhaps she would go ahead and brew a pot of Suzie’s special cinnamon blend and it would be ready for them when they woke.

  And all the better for her, too.

  She needed something to perk her up.

  Padding down the hallway and the stair, she made her way to the kitchen. Stumbling to the coffee maker, she pulled down a canister of coffee and the filters. Yawning, the back of her hand against her mouth, she reached for the carafe and pulled it away from the burner to fill it with cold water.

  It felt like she was moving in slow motion.

  She watched the water bubble and splash inside the carafe, her gaze focused on the level.

  She almost overfilled it but shut the water off in time.

  “Get a grip, Mary,” she whispered to herself. “And get the caffeine going.”

  She went through all the motions—scooped the coffee into the filter, filled the coffee maker, plugged it in and turned it on—then heaved a huge sigh as she turned and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Perhaps intravenous injection would be quicker.”

  Mary gasped and lifted her head to the sound of the voice. Nash! “How long have you been sitting there?”

  Nash was sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of tea sitting in front of him. “Long enough to know that you are pretty darned cute when you come stumbling into the kitchen in the morning.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks and her tongue froze. She gulped as he stood, set the mug on the counter, and strolled toward her.

  Tall. Man, was he tall. He towered over her as he stopped straight in front of her.

  “So what are you doing today?”

  Huh? “Me?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, you, silly. Do you have plans for the day?” He reached for a tendril of her hair, wound it around his finger, and tugged. Involuntarily, she moved closer to him.

  “Day? Plans?” Her head did a slow shake. “No plans.”

  He leaned in and whispered. “Good.”

  Oh my God. Too close. Too close!