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

by Maddie James

  ****

  You would think he had all day by the way his fingers ambled over her body. Mary squeezed her thighs together as the tingling at her center grew into more of a throb. Nash began a slow and sensuous decent down the front of her blouse, pulled her to a sitting position, and caressingly removed first one sleeve then another. Smoothing his large palms down each of her arms from shoulder to wrist, he stopped at each hand and then lovingly kissed and sucked each of her fingers. The unhurried pace was about to send her over the edge with want as he took all ten fingertips into his mouth, one at a time, sucked them until he had his fill, and then moved on to the next.

  Once her blouse was tossed away, and all fingers provided equal and undivided attention, he slipped first one bra strap and then the other off her shoulder. The cups of her bra shifted and lowered with the weight of her breasts. Nash skimmed one flat palm over her chest and cupped her.

  “Lovely,” he breathed. “I love the heaviness of your breasts.”

  Mary watched his hand slip into the cup and cradle her, then twist and fiddle with her nipple. Passion zinged from the tip of that nipple to her center.

  Nash tipped her chin up so she could look at his face. “Look into my eyes,” he told her.

  “Don’t take your eyes away from mine.”

  She didn’t. She hooked into his gaze and held it while her chest started a rapid lifting and sinking with each swift and shallow breath she took. His eyes held her spellbound as she felt his fingers knead her flesh, now hot under his touch, and pinch and toy with her pebbled nipple. It seemed the more he tugged and taunted, the deeper the connection between their gazes, and the more aroused and impatient she was becoming between her legs.

  “Nash, you are driving me crazy,” she breathed.

  A sly grin crossed his lips. “Good.”

  The throbbing in her panties was nearly out of control now. She tried to keep herself from shivering.

  “I need to give some attention to the other side. Don’t look away, Mary. Keep looking into my eyes.”

  As if she could do anything else. He had captured and held her with an invisible thread between their gazes. She was a slave to his command.

  This time, however, he eased the other breast out of its cup and lowered his head to take her fully into his mouth. He still looked up into her face and she longed to toss her head back and close her eyes and let him devour her. But she couldn’t. She would not break his stare. Never.

  “Watch my eyes, Mary,” he said while twirling her nipple with his tongue. His brown orbs held her there and the more she stared, the more wet her panties became. He sucked and she breathed harder and harder. He deepened his kiss on her breast and she watched his tongue loll over her.

  It was all she could do not to squirm on the bed. Her breathing deepened and her lower body felt on fire. She thrust her chest closer to Nash’s mouth. All the while, her gaze never left his.

  My God, she might even have an orgasm with her jeans still on.

  “Nash, please…” She grasped for him and smoothed her hands down his muscled side.

  Oh, God. He felt so… “Dammit, Nash. I can’t wait much…”

  Oh, she wanted him so.

  Pulling out of his mouth, she slithered downward where both hands made contact with his middle and her lips trailed over his chest. She broke his gaze and found what she wanted.

  Nash’s nakedness. The entire length of him. In all his wondrous male glory.

  Oh. My. God.

  He was large and hard and he leapt in excitement as she looked at the thing that made him all male. Yes, indeed.

  Reaching out, she grasped his cock in her hand and firmly stroked.

  “Oh, God, Mary…”

  At once, he flipped her on her back and removed her jeans and panties and shoes and socks in a millionth of the time it took him to remove her blouse. The stripping of her clothes from her body only fueled the passion building inside her.

  “I wanted to do this slow and lazy,” he groaned as he pushed her knees aside and covered her body.

  Her lips grazed his. “We can do slow and lazy in a little while,” she breathed. “Take me fast and hard.”

  Mary had no clue where the wanton wench inside her had been hiding all these years, or why she was coming out this afternoon to play so wickedly, but she didn’t care. All she wanted at this moment was Nash…inside her…and loving and pleasuring her.

  Obviously, he wasn’t going to second guess her on that. He leaned on one elbow and palmed her between her legs. His fingers, long like everything else on him, played and teased, sliding in and out of her while his thumb scrolled over the rigid nub between her lips.

  “Nash, my God… I can’t… Oh…” Passion and urgency built within her and she felt she would explode. She was not that sexually experienced, but this—this was far beyond any sexual experience she’d ever…

  “You are so damn wet,” he groaned.

  Her body took over and she clutched at him. “N-Nash… Oh…”

  “There baby,” His lips were close to her ear now. Soft and raking feathery sensations around her earlobe. “Let me have it.”

  She exploded in his hand, his fingers inside her, and her body reacted by lurching into him. He held her tight, in the safe and secure cocoon of his maleness, while she soared into the heavens and back again, landing softly in his sweet embrace.

  He kissed her then, laying her back against the bed and covering her body with his. He kissed her with tenderness and desire as he stroked her face with loving caresses. “My sweet, sweet Mary…” he breathed and her heart melted.

  Without another word, he leaned up and pushed between her thighs and into her, filling her completely. The length of him inside her thrilled her to no end, and the lethargic feeling she’d had seconds earlier after her powerful orgasm disappeared, and the wanton wench was back again, wanting him more than ever.

  “Take me, Nash,” she whispered. “Now. I’m yours.”

  He did. Their bodies crashed together over and over, as fingers and hands plied flesh and mouths searched for each other and melded in one fierce and elemental answering of need and desire. There was no sense of time or place, just the two of them, searching and perhaps, finding.

  Nash shouted his release and collapsed into her way too soon, saying her name over and over again on hushed and labored breaths, while Mary savored the moment and tried hard to squeeze away the tears in her eyes.

  Chapter Six

  The reflection in the mirror staring back at her told the tale. A tale, Mary decided, she didn’t want to hear. Right now, she was in avoidance mode, and that suited her just fine.

  Keep sticking your head in the sand, Mary. That’s right. Avoid the obvious and sooner or later you’ll get smacked right upside the head with reality whether you want it, or not.

  Truth was, though, that she knew the reality of the situation. And the reflection in the mirror wasn’t going to convince her of anything.

  She made love with Nash Rhodes all afternoon. Not once. Not twice even. And she wasn’t going to tell a soul. Not Suzie. Not her mother. Definitely not Thurman. But she’d have this memory in her heart and soul for the rest of her days.

  Because she knew this was all she’d ever have of Nash. This day. This memory.

  And tonight, all dressed up for the party, she was going to go out there on the back lawn of the lodge and listen to Nash’s music like everyone else in Legend and smile and clap and hoot and holler. And if she wanted to think about what Nash looked like under that soft denim shirt and Wranglers, she would. Because she would know. And it was her secret.

  Forever.

  Today she had Nash Rhodes. Her every fantasy was fulfilled. And tonight, after the concert, life goes on.

  “Are you going to stay in here and primp all evening? C’mon, girl. We have a concert to go to and those front row tickets are burning the palm of my hand.”

  Turning, Mary said, “Suzie! Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.”
>
  “You look beautiful. I love the jeans and the sexy top. That plunging neckline is oh-so-your style, Mary. You have to wear things like this more often…”

  Suzie. Somehow she had become her mentor, and she didn’t know why, but she liked it.

  She would keep this relationship, she knew. Becoming friends with Suzie was a godsend.

  “Thanks, Suzie. And thanks for letting me get dressed out here at the lodge. And for the room! I feel like I’m living the life of luxury or something.” She smiled at her friend and tamped down the butterflies growing in her abdomen.

  Her tummy. Where Nash had smoothed his hands over her skin and kissed her naval and caressed her lovingly like she was carrying his baby or something...

  Her thoughts zinged to the bedside table at the cabin and the foil packet still laying untouched there. Oh God. They had not…

  Her brain raced, trying to calculate days in her head.

  ****

  The opening band was not that great, but the crowd didn’t seem to mind so much. Mary wove through the swarm with Suzie and found their reserved seats in the front row. Brad was off dealing with this and that. There was a brief intermission and then, as the sun was setting, Nash’s band came on stage and started warming up. Before she realized it, the night was in full swing; Nash swept on stage, and damn if he didn’t stand right in front of her most of the night.

  She never, not once, took her eyes off of him.

  Not once.

  And he never, not once, looked her way.

  Until the last song of the night.

  That song, a new one he told the crowd, hit her deep in the gut. The music started and the crowd roared. Nash removed his guitar and set it on a stand on stage. He eased to the mic and grasped it in both hands, much like he had cradled her face in those big hands just hours earlier.

  And then he looked down at her.

  Straight into her eyes.

  And sang.

  Never look away. Keep your eyes on me. I might need more than a day. But keep your faith in me. Never look away. Keep your eyes on me…

  The song ended and Mary didn’t try to squeeze away the tears this time. She watched as Nash sauntered down the steps of the stage. Looking up as he stood before her, she was spellbound and so captured by his gaze.

  Never look away. Keep your eyes on me.

  Nash held out his hand and Mary took it. Rising, she moved into him and at once, Nash lifted her into his arms and carried her back up the stairs, across the stage, and behind the stage curtain. There, he sat her down and looked deep into her eyes, and just like that mic, cradled her face in his big hands again.

  “I wrote that for you,” he said, a croak in his voice. “Never forget that.”

  Mary’s heart raced and for some reason, a sinking sensation landed in the pit of her stomach. Nash took her into his arms in a bone-crushing embrace and kissed her like it was their last.

  Was it?

  Their lips and tongues mated and Mary’s heart swelled in her chest until she thought it might burst.

  Nash broke away at the sound of another man’s voice and a slap on his shoulder. “Time to go, cowboy.”

  Forcefully putting her at arm’s length, Nash backed up. “Never forget,” he whispered.

  “No,” she said softly back. “Never.”

  And then he was gone.

  It all happened so fast that while Mary stared in awe, looking at the place where Nash had just stood, she was oblivious to everything—and anyone else—around her. Her heart throbbed in her throat and her brain still reeled from the sensation of Nash’s kiss.

  Behind her, a man cleared his throat. “What was that all about?”

  Mary rotated toward the voice and turned to find Thurman staring at her, his arms crossed at his chest and a deep scowl racing over his forehead.

  His mother glared at her from behind him.

  “Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing at all.”

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks later

  Nash strummed his guitar for the last time and hung his head as the lights went out and the music silenced. His gut clutched and panic sliced through his chest. Every nerve in his body ached for something he couldn’t have. Had walked away from.

  Shouldn’t be here. Needed to be somewhere else.

  Dammit!

  The crowd roared and stomped their feet, begging for more, but one encore was all he had in him. Tonight’s gig was over. Seven-hundred and fifty two miles away from home and a lifetime away from Legend. He stood in the middle of a crowd of adoring fans.

  And was alone.

  “Shit.”

  His guitar swung over his back now, he stalked off toward the dark depths of the backstage, his band poised and ready for the second encore—their usual plan—while the crowd upped their chanting.

  He kept walking, hell-bent on getting to his bus.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  The voice came from his right. Nash didn’t look up. Didn’t need to. It was Rick.

  “Leavin’.”

  “Like hell.”

  His manager grasped his bicep and Nash simultaneously swung around and cocked him across the jaw with his fist. Rick stumbled backward and landed on his backside. The anger had been boiling in Nash for days now and he’d finally let it go. Shouldn’t have, but did.

  He stood over his manager, shaking his fist. “Don’t push me, Rick”

  Rick bounded up. “You goddamned sonofabitch!” He swiped at his jaw. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

  That was the question he’d been avoiding for days. He knew what had gotten into him.

  Mary. And music or no music, he wasn’t going to let her get away. “There’s something I gotta do, man.” He backed up. “Tell the boys I’ll be in contact. Cancel the weekend.”

  Rick cut him off. “Why don’t you just shoot yourself in the ass while you’re at it?

  Canceling a concert at this late date is the kiss of death. With the CMAs coming up…”

  Nash crowded him. “They’ll forgive me,” he said matter-of-fact. “Tell them I’ll make it up. Cut a deal. You’re good at what you do…make it work.” He brushed past Rick and out the door. His head spun with the lingering shouts of the crowd and the fact that he’d just punched his manager. If he survived all that, it would be a miracle.

  But it didn’t matter. Come hell or high water, he had to see Mary.

  Had to stop her from making a big mistake.

  ****

  I will get through this. I will get through this. I will get through this.

  The music had started already. Mary Lou’s older brother was standing at the entrance to the church sanctuary. She missed her father today more than ever. He’d been gone three years and were he still living, would have stood right there where her brother was—ready to give her away.

  Or not.

  Had her father still been alive, she likely would have shared a long heart-to-heart about marrying Thurman and most likely, her father would have said, “Follow your heart, not your brain, for one time in your life, Mary Lou Picketts.”

  But he wasn’t here. And she was going to do the thing she had promised to do.

  Marry Thurman.

  Her lone attendant sauntered toward the entrance and down the aisle. She lost sight of her as she rounded the corner and stepped toward the waiting groomsmen. The flower girl was next, her cousin’s little girl. “Go slow,” she whispered, wanting to prolong the inevitable.

  Closing her eyes, she imagined the child walking between the pews and tossing the rose petals. The music stopped and an eerie silence crept over the old church. Somewhere outside an engine rumbled. Then at once, the organist stabbed at the keys and The Wedding March peeled through the sanctuary.

  Her stomach bolted in protest.

  “Now, Mary Lou,” her brother prodded.

  She stood approximately ten feet from him, out of sight from the guests in the back of the church. That ten feet felt li
ke ten miles as she made her way toward him. The scowl on his face told her of his impatience.

  Finally, she reached him and he took her arm. They faced the guests and the groomsmen and bridesmaid and flower girl and the preacher standing in the vestibule. Mary Lou’s gaze skimmed the crowd, her family and friends on the left, Thurman’s family and friends on the right.

  Suzie sat about halfway down on the left in an aisle seat. She didn’t look happy.

  “So are you going to do this, or not,” her brother said. “Because, Mary Lou, it’s now or never.”

  She bit her lip.

  Now or never.

  Never?

  Never look away from me. Never give up on me. Never forget.

  “Never.”

  She looked to her brother and grinned. He smiled back for the first time that day. Then without thought and with reckless abandon, she dropped his arm, lifted her skirts in both hands at her side, and stalked up to the vestibule where Thurman stood.

  “We need to talk,” she told him, then glanced to the preacher. “I’m sorry, Reverend Jordon. We won’t be needing your services today.”

  ****

  Twenty minutes later, the church empty and Thurman having left in a huff with his mother, Mary stood in the vestibule alone and glanced about. A strange sense of serenity came over her and she knew she had done the right thing.

  Oh, Thurman was quite upset and had demanded the ring back, and she was happy to oblige. He ranted on about the cost of the honeymoon, and she told him to take his mother, since she loved Niagara Falls so much. He was a mama’s boy anyway; she’d probably worship him to the ends of the earth if he took her.

  Plopping down in a pew, she was so glad to be rid of all that.

  Now, life could move forward and somehow, she would figure it all out. Oddly, she was at peace with everything.

  In moving-on mode, her brain ticked off a few to do’s. See if she could sell the dress.

  Return the wedding presents. Go shopping for new, sexier clothes. Make an appointment with her doctor…

  She was so lost in thought that she barely registered the creak in the old church door or the footsteps making their way down the aisle. But when the lone voice penetrated her musing, she turned.