A Perfectly Imperfect Match (Matchmaking Mamas) (18 page)

He was gathering up each piece as he found it, and seemed to be doing his best not to wake her.

He looked like a man about to flee, Elizabeth thought as her brain started slowly processing what she was seeing.

“Where are you going?” she asked sleepily.

Sitting up in bed, the scene of their final exquisite coupling, Elizabeth scrubbed her hands over her face in an attempt to wipe away the last of the haze from her brain so that she could grasp some semblance of clarity.

Jared froze at the sound of her voice and looked over his shoulder in her direction. He flashed an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Sorry. Your perfect getaway isn’t so perfect I guess,” she murmured.

“Getaway?” he repeated, giving her a confused look. “I’m not executing a getaway,” he protested, wondering why she would even think that. “I’m just late for work.”

The moment he said that, things began falling into place in her brain.

And a little bit of hope sprang up in her heart.

He
wasn’t
leaving because he considered this a one-night stand.

“Oh, right. It’s not the weekend yet.” Buoyed by the fact that he wasn’t trying to disappear, she sat up and swung her legs out of bed. “I’ll make you breakfast,” she volunteered.

Amused, he quirked a brow. “I thought you didn’t cook.”

“Toaster pastry,” she enlightened him, letting him know what his breakfast was going to consist of. “I can use a toaster with the best of them.”

The sheet had pooled around her hips, affording him an enticing view that, despite the fact that he’d already been privy to it for the better part of the night before, still managed to make his knees completely weak. Another sign that what had happened last night wasn’t something he’d just conjured up in his imagination.

This one had gotten to him.

Big-time.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to sample your toaster skills some other time,” he told her, stooping to pick up his shoes.

She remained sitting exactly where she was.
As
she was.

“Care to sample anything else?” she offered, her eyes meeting his, her meaning blatantly cleared.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was an integral part of a presentation taking place this afternoon, and that he needed to toil away in the office all morning to prepare for it.

On the tip of his tongue to tell her that he couldn’t afford to slack off, to indulge his more physical needs in lieu of living up to his professional responsibilities.

But none of that managed to find its way
off
the tip of his tongue and out of his mouth.

He let go of the shoes he’d just picked up, released the clothes clustered in his arms against his chest.

“Oh, the hell with it,” he said for the second time in less than a day, both times announcing his utter surrender to her very potent charms. “I’ll tell them I was sick this morning.”

“Sick? Is that what you call it?” she asked, laughter bubbling in her throat as Jared climbed back into bed and pulled her to him.

“Incapacitated, how’s that?” he asked. “Better?”

“Incapacitated,” she repeated after a beat as if testing it to see how the word sounded.

Her eyes were already fluttering shut and she felt her body heating in response to the warm lips that were pressed against her neck and creating a searing trail along her skin.

“Incapacitated works for me,” she pronounced, shifting her body so that she could drape her arms around his neck.

The next moment, he was lowering her back onto the mattress again, his mind cleared of everything except for his need for her.

“As long as you’re okay with it,” he murmured against her skin.

Elizabeth twisted so that her body was snug beneath his, drawing his heat, creating heat of her own as she already began anticipating the fiery climax between them.

“Oh, so much more than okay,” she whispered huskily before the need for words disappeared completely.

Chapter Fourteen

W
hen she heard the chimes alerting her that someone was entering her real estate office, Maizie Sommers looked up from the notes she was writing at her desk.

Officially, the office was supposed to be closed by now. She’d already sent her people home but, as always, there were a few last-minute loose ends she wanted to tie up before she locked up for the night.

It was against her nature to send a potential client away, but at this point, she was tired and nursing the hope that whoever had just set the chimes off had wandered into her office by mistake.

And then she saw who it was and knew it was no mistake.

John Stephens crossed to her desk and presented her with a very large, very fragrant bouquet of perfect yellow roses.

The warm smile on her lips was somewhat bemused. “Flowers?”

Maizie placed the bouquet on her desk and went to the golden oak cabinets that lined one back wall. Opening the section to the extreme right, she took out the cut-glass vase that had been her late husband’s last anniversary gift to her.

Filling the vase with tap water, she returned to her desk, and John.

“I know you too well to think you’ve suddenly decided to go courting and thought you’d brush up your technique on a willing subject.” Removing the green tissue paper from the stems, she arranged the roses one by one in the vase, taking care that none of the flowers was crowded. “So, tell me,” she coaxed. “Why are you bringing me roses?”

“To thank you for a job well done,” he told her simply.

Maizie’s eyebrows drew together as traces of confusion registered on her face. “I’m afraid that I don’t—” And then a smile lit up her face as it hit her. “You’re talking about Elizabeth, aren’t you?”

“I am.” John’s own smile widened as he filled her in. “Elizabeth forgot about our standing Thursday dinner.”

“She stood you up?” Maizie asked in surprise. That definitely didn’t sound like something that his daughter would do. But rather than feel slighted, he seemed exceptionally happy about it. Maizie went back to being befuddled. Was this about the match she had helped put into motion, or—?

John inclined his head. “She did.”

Maizie continued to try to piece things together. “And you’re happy about that?”

“Absolutely.” And then he gave her the last crucial piece of information. “There was someone with her when I called to make sure she was all right. It was obvious that this ‘someone’ had made her lose track of everything else, including what day of the week it was.” He smiled at Maizie. “And I have you to thank for that.”

So, it
was
about the match. Still, she didn’t believe in counting chickens until they had fully abandoned their shells.

“Well, don’t thank me yet,” Maizie cautioned. She didn’t want the man to get ahead of himself just yet, even though, so far, each match that she, Theresa and Cecilia had put together were all going strong. “And, when the time does come for thanks, you actually have Theresa to thank for this,” she informed him. “I personally haven’t seen the young man in question, but Theresa vouched for him and she has excellent radar.”

“Does she now?” John asked jovially.

“Affirmative. She told me that Jared was a repeat customer who’d used her catering company several times. This particular time he’s having her cater his parents’ thirty-fifth anniversary celebration—he’s planning to surprise them. In my book, that makes him a wonderful young man.” She saw her friend’s smile grow a little forced around the edges. Her mother’s radar was instantly alerted. “Is something wrong, John?”

He shook his head. “No, everything’s fine,” he told her perhaps a bit too emphatically. “Just fine,” he repeated.

“You know you’re quite possibly getting what you wished for,” she pointed out.

There was an unexpected melancholy feeling that had materialized out of nowhere and threatened to hover over him. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, he told himself. “Yes, I know.”

Maizie looked at him knowingly. She knew
exactly
what he was feeling. “But nonetheless, it is a little hard to accept, now that it’s happening, isn’t it?”

John looked at her, somewhat startled at how close to home her comment had hit. He wanted to deny her assumption—but that would be lying. “When did you get to be so wise, Maizie?”

Maizie laughed. That was easy enough to answer. “When I started dabbling in matchmaking to set up my own daughter. Theresa, Cecilia and I made a pact that we wouldn’t stop until we had all four of our children in committed relationships.”

He thought a moment. “As I recall, all of them are married now.”

“Yes, they are,” she told him proudly. “And, I don’t mind telling you, success is a little bittersweet because marriage, more than anything else, makes you realize just how grown up your child actually is.” And then she flashed him a bright, understanding smile. “But it
is
the right thing to root for,” she assured him.

“I know.” And he did, even though in his heart of hearts, he felt that no man would ever be quite good enough for his little girl.

With her computer powered down, there was nothing left for Maizie to do but turn out the lights and lock up. “You know, it’s been rather a hectic day. I need to wind down a little bit. Why don’t I lock up and buy you dinner to celebrate this possible success?” she suggested.

“You don’t have to do that, Maizie,” he protested.

“I know. But I’d like to. It’ll give me a chance to show you some baby pictures I’ve just transferred to my phone. It’s a lot easier if I have a captive audience,” she told him with a wink.

John laughed as he rose from the chair and followed her to the front door. “I think I’d like that,” he admitted.

Maizie’s eyes sparkled. “Good, because you really didn’t have a choice in the matter, you know.”

* * *

Elizabeth kept pushing the thought from her mind, but she knew that what she was doing was tantamount to treading on thin ice. The evening of the anniversary celebration was swiftly approaching, and with it, more than likely, the end of the exquisite interlude she was caught up in.

All along she’d known that this had a limited life span—whatever “this” actually was, she thought with a heartfelt sigh.

Right now, under one pretext or another, she and Jared were still getting together every evening, either at her apartment or his place of work. Or twice, he’d met her at the banquet hall. When they’d met there, it revolved around making final decisions on seating, decorations and flowers at the celebration. Because Megan was still away on the cruise, Jared told her he felt he needed a woman to help him with the various selections. He tactfully refrained from mentioning that Megan called him regularly.

“What do I know about decorations?” he’d asked with an exaggerated shrug when she’d asked him what motif he was going with at the party. “I don’t even have a Christmas tree up in December.”

She’d met his words with a laugh, then stopped dead when she realized that he was actually serious.

“You’re not kidding, are you?” Elizabeth had asked, stunned.

When he shook his head, confirming her suspicions, her first impulse was to say that she could remedy that for him, just as she had for her brothers when they’d each struck out on their own and moved into their first bachelor apartments.

But she knew that was presuming way too much. Christmas was more than six months away. She sincerely doubted Jared would even remember her name in six months, much less that she’d promised to rekindle his waning holiday spirit by getting him to put up a traditional Christmas tree.

And she was okay with that, Elizabeth convinced herself. Because she expected that, even planned for that, since the flip side of that scenario would be one in which they were together—and she would be silently waiting for the shoe to fall and the gut-wrenching emptiness to descend on her with piercing precision.

Walking away on her own terms, at a time of her choosing, was a far better way to go because it meant that she was in control of her own life.

Or so she kept telling herself.

“No, I’m not kidding,” Jared was saying, oblivious to the internal war she was waging right in front of him. “Why?” he asked. “Are you offering to civilize me? Turn me into a Christmas decoration junkie?”

“Only if you want me to,” she heard herself saying rather than the single resounding “no” she’d geared herself up to deliver.

“Okay,” Jared agreed, nodding, thinking that it might really be fun to have someone to decorate a tree with. And
everything
seemed to be more fun with her around to share it with. “But first I need help wading through all this.” He pointed to a stack of photographs, all depicting different centerpieces of the tables at the reception. “What do you think of this one?”

“Too cute,” she pronounced. Flashing him a smile, she got down to business and eventually narrowed down his choices to a very manageable two.

The moment she placed the two photographs in front of him, Jared saw that they were really the only two viable contenders. She’d managed to home in on the best of the best, he realized in awe.

Elizabeth was a godsend, he couldn’t help thinking, in more ways than one.

Who knew, he speculated. Maybe by the time that the night of the party came around, when he introduced her to his parents, Elizabeth would be more than just a key player in the musical ensemble he’d hired for the celebration.

Maybe she’d wind up being exactly what he’d initially pretended she would be for his mother’s benefit.

The thought was definitely not without merit, he caught himself thinking.

The evening went the same way all their evenings had gone. After each pretense for the get-together was handled, he’d suggest that they get something to eat.

That in turn would always lead to them winding up the night in her apartment—or in his, no longer talking about the event that had brought her into his life. They’d become far too busy with more pleasurable pursuits.

The first time he’d brought her over to his place, she’d made a mental note to call Amanda as soon as she could to tell her friend that her suspicions that Jared might be married were not just completely baseless, but dead wrong.