All Your Loving (Bachelors & Bridesmaids) (5 page)

"Not yet. We're going to talk this weekend. I'll tell her then."

"Or you could not tell her and think about the whole idea a little more," he couldn't help suggesting one last time. "Love doesn't have to be so fast."

Connor just laughed at him, the way he'd laughed at him so many other times in his life. But then Connor had had the luxury of not being the oldest, not being the man of the house, not having to worry about making sure everyone else was taken care of. Those concerns had fallen to Matt when his father passed away.

"What would you know about love?" Connor asked. "You haven't had a relationship that lasted longer than three weeks. Try something serious sometime and then talk to me."

"Goodbye Connor," he said. "Stay safe."

"Talk soon," Connor replied, then ended the connection.

Matt stared at the blank screen for a long minute, Connor's words ringing through his head. Unlike Connor, he hadn't fallen in love every other second, and as his younger brother had reminded him, his relationships tended to end before they got off the ground. That was mostly his fault. He shied away from women who wanted too much. He had his hands full with keeping his career going, a career that was supporting everyone in his family.

Speaking of which…

He started another program on his computer and opened a video taken at the most recent batting practice. At some point, he'd acquired a hitch in his swing, and he needed to get it fixed before the season started. He needed to have another good year. At twenty-nine, he was starting to hear the clock ticking. But he had at least another five to eight years he told himself—as long as he didn't get hurt, as long as he didn't get distracted and lose his focus, as long as he didn't let a beautiful blonde get under his skin.

Julie's image moved through his head again.

They were meeting tomorrow night for his cooking lesson. That had probably been a bad idea. She was going to be a distraction. He should cancel.

On the other hand, he really wanted to see her again.

It was just one date. Then he'd get back to business.

Chapter Four

Friday night after work Julie met Matt at the door of the Brandon Street Supermarket. She'd been half-hoping he'd text her and call the whole thing off, but she hadn't heard a word from him.

She straightened as she saw him get out of his car and stride across the lot. Wearing jeans and a zip-up jacket over a dark t-shirt, he moved with confidence and graceful athleticism, and more than one woman gave him a second glance as he passed by. Matt didn't seem to notice the attention, his gaze sweeping the area until it settled on her. His lips curved into a smile, and he gave her a wave.

Her breath caught in her chest, and a shiver ran down her spine as he approached. He was a really attractive man with his wavy brown hair, tan skin and beautiful green eyes. And his broad, powerful shoulders and long, lean body made her stomach tighten. He was both a man's man and a woman's man, and no doubt thousands of kids looked up to him, too. That made him the perfect choice for a celebrity chef, but absolutely not the perfect choice for her.

But this wasn't a date; it was business. She was keeping the celebrity happy. She was protecting her event. She was doing it all for her company, she told herself.

But not even she completely believed that.

"You're late," she said, deciding to go on offense. Because being angry at Matt helped keep the warmer feelings at bay.

He glanced down at his watch and raised an eyebrow. "Three minutes."

She shrugged. "Late is late."

"Let's not waste any more time then," he said, waving her toward the entrance. "What are we making tonight?"

"I thought we'd go with scallops and a creamy risotto with a kale salad on the side. The prep isn't too difficult and the scallops cook quickly. Risotto can be a little tricky but it doesn't take long to cook. I hope you like fish or at the very least that you're not allergic to it."

"I do like fish and no food allergies, so it sounds like a good plan."

She grabbed a basket as they entered the store. "Great. I made out a list."

"I figured," he said with a small smile. "You seem like a planner."

"I'm a busy woman. I like to be efficient."

"It wasn't a criticism," he said lightly. "So what's first?"

"Let's get the scallops," she said, heading toward the butcher. "They're the centerpiece of the dish."

They'd barely made it to the fish counter when two young boys came running over to ask Matt for his autograph. He happily obliged, signing one's baseball cap and the other's t-shirt. Following the boys were a dad and two little girls, then two women, one with a baby, the other with a toddler. And then there was the beautiful redhead in the short skirt and high-heeled boots who told Matt he was her favorite player and wanted to take a selfie with him.

Judging by her tone, she wanted to do a lot more with Matt than just take a picture with him.

Julie got the scallops and headed off to finish the shopping, leaving Matt with his fans. She should have anticipated this happening. Autograph seekers had often waylaid her father when they were out as a family. Her dad had always been happy to stop and talk with fans, just as Matt had done, but her mother had hated the constant interruptions. She couldn't really blame her. What started out as a task for two had often ended up as a task for one, just like today.

She picked up the rest of the groceries and then proceeded to checkout.

"There you are," Matt said, meeting her in line. "Sorry about that."

"It doesn't matter. Does this happen to you a lot?" she asked, as she unloaded her basket.

"In San Francisco, yes. Not so much other places. I'll pay for this," he added, moving past her to slide his credit card through the machine. "Did you get everything we need?"

"I think so."

"Thanks Julie." He gave her a smile that made her feel like an idiot for being pissed off at him because he was popular. It wasn't like he'd done anything to draw attention to himself. And it probably wasn't that fun for him to be accosted everywhere he went.

"No problem, but when we get to your place, you're going to be doing the cooking, and I'm going to be advising."

"And eating," he said. "Hopefully, it's good."

"Hopefully," she echoed, as they paid for their groceries and headed out to the parking lot.

She followed him to his condo, which was only about a mile away. He lived on the top floor of a sixteen-story brand new building overlooking the bay and the nearby ballpark.

After setting the bags down in the kitchen, Matt gave her a quick tour of the spacious two-bedroom, two-level unit. The first floor was composed of the kitchen, dining room, living room, media room and bathroom. Upstairs were two master suites, each with their own bathrooms and sweeping views of the city. Also upstairs was a fitness room complete with treadmill, elliptical, weights and other fitness machines.

It was a great space, she thought. Everything was new, freshly painted, and there was no clutter anywhere.

"Your home is really nice," she said as they made their way back into the kitchen. "Have you lived here long?"

"No, I moved in about three months ago when the building was finished."

"I've never lived anywhere new. I grew up in a house that was fifty years old when my parents bought it, and the apartment building I live in now dates back to the nineteen-forties."

"My sister says this place has no soul," he said, stopping by the sink to wash his hands. "But everything is new."

"Well, I guess that's a little true," she said. "You just need to make the space more personal."

He shrugged. "I'm fine with it the way it is."

"How old is your sister?"

"Claire is twenty-three."

"Does she live nearby?"

"No, she's in medical school in Los Angeles."

"Really? That's a lot of work."

"It is a lot of work, but she's a great student and very determined. She wants to be a pediatrician. And I'm sure she'll make that happen. She's a force of nature."

"Sounds like that quality runs in your family," she said dryly. "You're a bit of a force yourself."

"Wait, was that a compliment?"

"Just a fact."

"Well, let's see how this force does in the kitchen. What's first?"

She started, realizing she'd forgotten all about cooking. She'd been far more interested in getting to know Matt than in producing a meal that would make him a contender in the cook-off. She took out her phone to review the recipe. "Why don't you grab a large saucepan for the risotto and a frying pan for the scallops. We'll also need to chop the mushrooms that will go into the risotto."

He opened a cupboard and took out some pans. "Will these work?"

"A bigger saucepan would be better," she said, watching as he exchanged pans. "At least you know what a saucepan is?"

"I'm somewhat familiar with what is used to cook, just not how to actually use it."

"Your mother didn't try to teach you at some point? Or were you just too busy with baseball?"

"My mother was more busy than I was. She worked two jobs for most of my childhood, so dinner often came out of the freezer. I can heat things up and use the microwave."

She paused, frowning as she realized she knew next to nothing about Matt Kingsley beyond his baseball reputation. "What was your mom's job?"

"She worked in retail sales during the day and for an office cleaning service at night."

"What about your dad?"

"He died when I was eleven," Matt replied, his eyes turning somber. "He'd gone sailing with some friends, the first time he'd done anything for himself in years. The boat got caught in a bad storm. It ended up breaking apart, and my dad didn't make it back to shore."

She stared at him in shock. He'd told the story pragmatically, but there was a pain in his eyes now that made her ache for him. "I'm so sorry, Matt. I had no idea that your father died when you were young."

"It isn't a subject I talk about much, although it's not a secret." He paused. "Right before his death, my father founded a startup computer company with a friend of his. Unfortunately, after my father died, his friend couldn't make the company work. He ended up losing everything my dad had invested in the business and then some. My mom had to sell our house to pay off my father's debts. Then we moved into a two-bedroom apartment that became home for the next six years. My mom had a room and then we had two sets of bunk beds in the other. When Claire needed more privacy, she ended up in my mom's room, and my mother would sleep on the couch."

She was really surprised by his story. She'd had no idea he'd gone through such a tragedy or had had a difficult childhood. "It sounds like a bad time. I'm kind of shocked I never heard any of that before."

"I don't talk about it much. My mother is a really private person, and she hated for anyone to know that my father had left her with so much debt. Once we moved away from the old neighborhood and started over, it was like having a new life, and we didn't talk much about the other. But I have a lot of respect for my mother. She went from being a stay-at-home mom raising four kids, to someone who had to find a way to support herself and the family. She rarely complained about it. She always had a great attitude and just kept telling us to move forward and not look back. We didn't have a lot of stuff or space in our lives, but there was a lot of love."

"Couldn’t anyone help? What about your grandparents?"

"My mom's parents sent money when they could, but they weren't well-off. My dad's parents were older and sickly. They would also chip in at times, but it was really up to my mother to keep the ship afloat. I was the oldest, so I tried to step up—be the man of the family. Not that I knew what that meant when my dad died, but I did my best to contribute. I'd mow lawns, walk dogs, whatever the neighbors wanted done." He smiled. "I'm sure the few bucks I came up with were like pennies to my mom, but she always told me how proud she was of me, and she'd put the money I earned in a coffee can and said she was saving it for an emergency."

"I'm sure she was proud of you," Julie said, realizing that she felt a little proud, too. She probably should have done some research on Matt. She normally did that with the celebrities they worked with, but she'd been so fixated on the fact that he was a baseball player she hadn't looked beyond that. She hadn't wanted to know more, but now she did.

"When I graduated from high school," Matt continued. "My mother handed me the coffee can and told me to use the fourteen hundred and twenty-seven dollars I'd made over the last six years for school." He smiled at the memory. "I couldn't believe she'd never touched it. But she'd always felt bad that I was worrying about money instead of just being a kid."

"How old were your brothers and sisters when your father passed away?"

"Connor was eight, Claire was five and David was three."

"So they were all really young."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah. It's hard to remember now a time when my dad was with all of us. David doesn't remember him at all. I used to feel badly for him, but sometimes I'm not sure that it isn't a good thing. He doesn't feel as much sadness for what he has no memory about."