Matching Mr. Right (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 1) (12 page)

Jo laughed. “You look hot! If Greg doesn’t notice you in that, then he’s either blind or into men now.” She tossed Shelby’s bag to her. “Come on, we’re late. You can drive seeing as I’m nearly out of gas.”

Shelby caught her purse and then dug the keys out. “See, that’s the beauty of a Prius. I’m rarely out of gas.”

Jo waited by the car for Shelby to pop the locks before sliding her long body inside. “You’re just still trying to convince yourself you don’t miss the Porsche.”

“True. I drove Nick’s yesterday and it was fantastic!” Probably best not to share the part about how Nick wouldn’t let her out until he’d gotten his proper kiss. Although, there was nothing proper about it—it was smokin’ hot. And it was the last time she’d let him kiss her, no matter how incredible he was at it.

Shelby laid a hand over her nervous stomach and refocused on the mission at hand. Greg. “Thank goodness for this rain. No touch football for me tonight.”

“Yeah. That was a lucky break. Would you have played if it hadn’t been raining?”

Shelby had asked herself the same question. It was Nick’s cocky voice in her head that had convinced her she wouldn’t have played. Just to prove Nick was wrong about Greg. Probably.

“Nope.”

When they got to Jo’s parents’ house, cars lined the sidewalk for two solid blocks. Everyone in Denver must be at the party. Greg had always been a popular guy.

Shelby had no intention of ruining her hair by walking in the wind and rain for a half mile, so she pulled up to her aunt and uncle’s house next door and parked under their large portico. “Let’s make a dash for it.”

Shelby linked arms with Jo, ducked under their umbrella, and made a run for the gate in the wall that separated their properties. Just as they’d both done a thousand times in their haste to tell each other the latest news, or to gossip about boys when they were kids. Thankfully, once they crossed the side yard, the kitchen door was unlocked and they stepped inside.

After they greeted Jo’s mom, who was organizing the servers in the kitchen, Jo wandered off to talk to one of their girlfriends while Shelby went on the hunt for Greg. Normally he was easy to spot because he was so tall, but Shelby, being particularly short and in a huge crowd of people, couldn’t find him. She needed to move to higher ground.

She climbed the stairs to the catwalk that overlooked the cavernous great room on one side and the dining room that could seat twenty on the other. From above she finally spotted the top of Greg’s head leaning close to a woman whose giant breasts threatened to spill out of her flimsy top. She’d recognize those bazookas anywhere, as would half the guys from their high school class. Most had handled them back in the day. They belonged to Shelby’s high school nemesis, Tiffany Baker.

Shelby’s courage took a hike. She felt like a fourteen-year-old again. How could she compete against Tiffany, a girl who got any guy she set her sights on?

Crossing the catwalk to Jo’s old bedroom, Shelby slipped inside and closed the door behind her. She turned on the light, made her way to Jo’s bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She needed to man up. Her plan was going to work, it had to. Greg was different from most guys. He had a serious and deep side that compelled him to volunteer his time and talent for others. He’d never be swayed by a big set of cha-chas.

She hoped.

After swiping more lip gloss on, she threw her shoulders back and walked out of Jo’s old room. She’d waited two years for this moment and she would not fail. Besides, maybe she’d killed enough time so that Tiffany had moved on to her next victim.

From her perch above, Shelby found Greg again. Thankfully, he was talking to the neighborhood guys, so it was time to make her move. She headed for the stairs, and just as her foot hit the bottom rung her aunt called out, “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

She’d known her aunt and uncle would be at the party, but she’d hoped to say hello and then avoid them for the rest of the evening. “Hi, how are you?” She peered past her aunt’s shoulder to find Greg, but he was gone again, dammit. He was a freaking moving target.

“Exhausted after the auction, but recovered now.” She took Shelby’s arm and motored her in the direction of the dining room. “There’s someone here you need to meet. His mother plays tennis with me at the club, and he’s an investment banker. His name is James Worthy.”

Shelby dug in her heels, halting their forward progress. “Not tonight. I’m supposed to meet someone else here.”

Her aunt’s gaze burned a hot trail of disapproval from Shelby’s head to her shoes. “Dressed like . . . that? You’re sending the wrong message with that outfit, Shelby. You’re of the age now that you need to start worrying about settling down. And we both know that your pool of men to choose from is limited because of your legs. Men don’t seriously date girls dressed like you, they just want to sleep with them.”

“Awesome, because that’s the plan! I need a drink, excuse me.”

Her aunt’s mouth gaped as Shelby brushed passed her on the way to the bar. She’d probably pay for that remark later, but it’d been worth it to see the look on her aunt’s face.

Shelby ordered two beers and while she waited, scanned the crowd again for Greg. She heard him but couldn’t see him, so she accepted her beers and made her way toward his voice. Showtime.

Ignoring the voice in her head that laughed at her, like Nick had about Greg only wanting to play football with her, she powered her feet forward. Suddenly the crowd parted and there he was. Smiling and laughing with . . . Tiffany. Again? The woman was a leech.

Before she could decide what to do, someone called out, “Hey, Shelby, looking good.” Ben, one of the neighborhood guys she’d grown up with—and Greg’s best friend, held out his hand.

“I’d be glad to take that extra beer off your hands. It looks kinda heavy.” He shot her a naughty grin just as he always had. A bad boy to the bone, that one. She’d borrowed many of Ben’s antics as a kid for Chester.

She thrust the beer out to him. Greg had a full one anyway. “Too lazy to get your own? You haven’t changed much have you, Senator Wright?”

He laughed. “That’s why I ran for Senate. That way I’d only have to work once every six years, at reelection time. So, what’s new with you, Shelby? Found the man of your dreams or are you still pining after Greg?”

Shelby grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “If you don’t want your wife to know about how you cheated on her during college, I’d keep it down.” Ben had been spying on her and Jo during one of their many sleepovers at Jo’s house when they were in high school. He’d overheard a conversation about Shelby’s love for Greg and he’d made her life a living hell for months. She’d made a point to find dirt on him and was still not above using it.

Ben scowled. “We weren’t married yet.”

Shelby took a deep drink, pleased she’d rattled him. “No, but you were engaged. And I imagine it’d still upset her to learn it was with her best friend.”

“Okay, truce. Geez Shelby, promise you’ll never run against me for my seat. I wouldn’t have a chance.” Then he beamed his wicked but charming grin at her again before he tapped his bottle against hers. “I never told him, you know.”

“I don’t believe you, Mr. Smoke and Mirrors.”

He took a long pull from his beer. “Greg always won at everything when we were kids. I hated he’d beat me to you too, so I never told him,
Summer Sinclair.
” He held her gaze for a moment before he added, “My kid loves your books by the way.”

A chill raced up her spine at the way he’d said her pen name. She’d never known he’d liked her when they were young, and it felt a little creepy. “I’d be happy to sign a book for him. But, now I’ve got to go find Jo. See ya.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” His hand slipped around her upper arm as he whispered, “That hot outfit tells me you’re a woman on a mission tonight, so let’s go. I want to see Greg’s tongue fall out.”

Before she could protest, Ben dragged her toward Greg. Tiffany saw them and her frown deepened with each of their advancing steps.

Ben pushed her forward. “Look who I found, Greg.”

Greg smiled warmly, then leaned down to lay a soft kiss on Shelby’s cheek. “Hey, Shelby.” She begged for his gorgeous blue eyes to gaze at all the places she’d hoped, but they stayed locked firmly on her face. “Too bad for the rain, huh? I was looking forward to reestablishing our neighborhood record.” Then he turned toward Ben, “Right, buddy?”

Ben’s lips tilted into one of his slimy smiles. “We’ll have to do that real soon. But we’d probably bore Tiffany to death if we start talking football.”

Tiffany flashed a fake smile and batted her eyes at Greg, “Not at all. I just adore football. Especially our Broncos.”

Tiffany was one of those women Nick talked about on the way to the country club. Pretending to like football. “So who’s your favorite player on the team?” Hah! Take that, Big Chest.

If Tiffany’s eyes had been laser beams, Shelby would have been disintegrated. “The quarterback, of course.”

Ben laughed. “Mine too. But your glass is empty.” He slipped his arm around Tiffany’s waist. “Let me get you a drink, darling. I’d love to hear your views on the cheerleaders’ outfits. I think they’re a little snug, myself.” He sent Shelby a wink before he left her alone with Greg.

Shelby’s mouth went dry and her mind blanked. She, of all people, who had memorized every conversation starter known to man, had nothing. Luckily, Greg saved her.

“So, I hear the writing’s going very well, and Jo says your matchmaking business is growing. But do you miss working for your uncle?”

“Nope. I’m considerably poorer at the moment, but I love what I’m doing. How about you? What are your plans now that you’re home?” Well that was lame. She needed to flirt with him, not ask the same questions his parents probably asked him.

“I’ve just accepted a job and I start tomorrow. I’m the new guy, so I’ll get the crappy shifts in the ER but it’ll be a real change to work in a modern, well equipped hospital instead of the jungle.”

“I can imagine. But I’ll bet the native girls were sad to see you leave. None of them captured your heart, huh?” That was better.

He laughed. “A few tried, but I outran them.” He paused and took a pull from his beer bottle. “I thought you might’ve had something going on with that Nick guy, but Jo tells me you’re between men at the moment?”

“Nick? No we’re just . . . friends.” Although a friend had never kissed her like Nick had in his Porsche.

“Good. He reminded me of your last boyfriend, what was his name?”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah. I never liked that guy. You’re special Shelby, and you should hold out for just the right man.”

She always had, and she was looking right at him. “That’s my intention.” She smiled and stared deeply into his eyes hoping he’d take the hint. But he seemed oblivious to her charms, as usual.

So, on to plan B. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to watch the game on Sunday in my uncle’s box? We have plenty of room.”

His face lit up. “That’d be great. What time should I meet you there?”

She needed her bat so she could knock some sense into him. How dense could Greg be? “We could ride together if you want. Save on parking?”

“Great idea. But I don’t have a car yet, I’ll have to borrow one. I can’t make up my mind between a hybrid, or to go all electric. It’s all about the environment, right?”

Shelby smiled, thinking of how Nick would claim it’s all about speed. “Yeah. So why don’t I pick you up? Then you can drive my new Prius to the game and see what you think of it. Twelve thirty work?”

Someone called out Greg’s name so he lifted a finger to signal he’d be right there. “That’d be great. I’m sorry to cut this short. We’ll catch up at the game. Just like old times, right?” He kissed her cheek again. “Bye.”

“Bye. See you, Sunday.” Shelby’s heart sank. Their old times were “just friends” times. Was she going to have to strip naked and do a pole dance for him to notice her?

No, that’d be dumb. He might go screaming in the opposite direction at the sight of her legs.

It was early yet, but maybe she should just call it a night. Everyone wanted Greg’s attention and her ten minutes were up.

Shelby found Jo, who wasn’t ready to leave and said she’d find a ride, so Shelby started for home.

Maybe her outfit wasn’t as killer as she thought? Or maybe Greg went for a more conservative look? She needed advice. From a guy. She knew just who to call.

That’s what Nick got for being her “friend.”

***

Nick rubbed his forehead as he crunched the blurry numbers on his laptop. His neck and back ached and his throat had been sore all day. And he was freezing even though he wore thick socks and sweats. Maybe he’d go upstairs and find a blanket so he could stay warm while he finished his report. He’d compiled all the things he’d learned from Shelby’s business model but hadn’t given it to his sister yet, telling himself he might learn more on his next date. But the truth was, he’d been putting it off because he felt like such a shit for spying on Shelby. It was killing him worse every day. Maybe he could find a way to get Shelby and Lori to combine their client lists without revealing his spying. The data clearly showed they’d both benefit from that. But how?

When the phone rang, he grimaced. The shrill tone triggered an even more intense pounding in his head as he glanced at the screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. What’s wrong?”

How the hell could his mother tell he felt like garbage from two words? “Bad headache. What’s up?”

“Your voice sounds scratchy. I hope you’re not getting the flu. I hear it’s a rough one with a really high fever.”

Nick laid the back of his hand on his forehead. How could it feel so hot when he was freezing? But he never got the flu. “I’ll be fine in the morning. What’s going on?”

“I wanted to ask a favor. But if you’re not feeling well . . .”

“Mom. Stop! What is it?”

She sighed. “You always snap like that when you’re sick. We’ll talk about it later. I’m going to be near your house tomorrow morning for my yoga class, so I’ll stop by and check on you. If you’re not there, then I’ll assume you’re better, and then I’ll take measurements for the new curtains I’m making for you.”