An Unlikely Match (The Match Series - Book #1) (8 page)

“
Two are commercials, shampoo and off-road vehicles. But the third is a small part in a couple of sitcom episodes. And those can always turns into more. For example, if the audience responds well to a character, they’ll generally extend the storyline.”

“Did you go to any auditions this week?” he asked.

“On Wednesday.” She’d been pretty disappointed. The lineups were long, the time in front of the casting director was minuscule, and it was impossible to know what they’d liked or didn’t like about her performance.

“When do you expect to hear?”

“Probably never.” She slipped her tight shoes off her swollen feet. “I’m thinking I might try getting an agent.”

Morgan took the bend in the road and started up the long hill toward their complex. “Will that help?”

“It will if I can get a good agent. It’s pretty tough out there.”

“
Seems like there’d be a lot of competition in the film business,” he offered.

Amelia gave a nod of agreement, wiggling her toes free. “But I’m not giving up.”

“Good for you.”

She grinned. “In the meantime, I can act interested when men try to chat me up at
Sapphire Sunday.”

“Are we that bad?”

“Most of you aren’t. And you’re not. You’re one of the good guys, Morgan.” As she said the words out loud, she realized how true they were.

He swung the car into the short driveway of
the condos and shut down the engine. “Glad to hear it.”

When he opened
his door, she followed suit, slinging her purse over one shoulder and dangling her sandals from her opposite hand. But before she could clamber out, he was there, offering to help.

She took
the hand he offered, letting him pull her gently to her feet. Then she was directly in front of him, nearly touching him, marveling all over again at his unexpected good looks even as she caught a whiff of his very masculine scent.

“Thanks for driving me home,” she offered in a voice that had turned to a
husky whisper.

“Anytime,” he answered.

“You might regret saying that,” she teased.

“I don’t think so.”

He sobered, and so did she. The dense coastal wind wafted between them, rustling the leaves on the nearby trees. The streetlights buzzed in the background, while the faint sound of traffic whirred along the thoroughfare at the bottom of the hill.

He inched closer
, an intense expression on his face.

She
waited. She wanted this kiss. She wanted it very badly.

He hesitated
for a long moment, and she thought she’d misjudged. But then his hand came up, cradling her cheek. He dipped his head, and she let her eyes flutter closed, parting her lips, waiting the excruciating seconds until his mouth finally touched hers.

His lips were soft, warm,
firm as they kissed hers. One hand gently cradled her face, the other moving to the small of her back, urging her into the heat of his body. She stepped forward, bringing her thighs against his, feeling a surge of his strength. She tipped her head, straining up to meet him, fusing their lips more firmly together. Desire cleared a pathway through her brain. Rational thought left, replaced by raw emotion and want.

Her sandals slipped from her
fingers, bouncing to the asphalt. She had to touch him, so she reached up, placing her palms against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, the play of his hard muscles, the beat of his heart. Her fingertips explored, absorbing tiny shocks of arousal that fueled her desire.

His tongue tested her lips, and she opened to him, wider and wider, parrying, drinking in
his tart taste, inhaling his scent, pressing closer and sliding her hands around his neck to the bare skin below his hairline. He was strong and sure, steady and stable, and she felt ridiculously safe and centered in his arms.

Then he broke the kiss and drew slowly back, blinking in the dim light of the driveway.

“Anthropology,” he breathed.

“Excuse me?”

“I have no explanation for my behavior, except that you’re an incredibly beautiful woman, and I’m an ordinary man.”

He
thought she was beautiful. Her heart lifted with joy.

But the rest he had wrong.

“You’re not ordinary,” she told him. He was a genius rocket scientist, smarter than any ten other people.

“
But I am,” he insisted. “Excruciatingly ordinary and completely predictable.”

“
I didn’t predict you kissing me.” But she’d wanted it. She’d wanted it very badly. And it hadn’t disappointed her. He was one amazing kisser.

He pulled back, dropping his hands so he wasn’t touching her anymore.
“Any standardized test of human psychology and physiology would have predicted me kissing you.”

Despite his analytical words, she still felt dreamy.
“Would it have predicted me kissing you back?”

That seemed to stump him.
“Probably not.”

“Interesting,” she mused
in her sexiest voice, waiting for him to reach out again.

Instead, h
e leaned down and picked up her sandals, handing them over to her. “Sleep well.”

Huh? Sleep? There was no chance
that was going to happen, not as jazzed as she was feeling right now.

He took
what seemed like a reluctant step backward.

“
That’s it?” she asked, wandering into unfamiliar territory. She’d never had to encourage a man who’d kissed her to take things further. It was usually the opposite.

“What’s it?”
he asked.

“You kissed me, I kissed you back
, and now you’re...”

“
Saying goodnight,” he finished for her.

“You’re not going to try to take things further?” She was curious
now. Okay, that was a lie. She was turned on and totally into him.

“You expect that I’ll try to sleep with you
now.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Isn’t that what the standardized test of human psychology and physiology would tell you to do?”
She struggled to understand what was going on here. Was he saying he didn’t want to sleep with her?

“If I was a caveman, sure.”

“You’d drag me to your bed by the hair?”

“Probably not by the hair.
But, yeah, in my more primitive form, I wouldn’t care much whether you were willing or not.”

An image bloomed in her mind of him scooping her up in his arms and whisking her up the stairs in his condo.
It was sexy. It was compelling. She waited, hoping he’d make a move.

But he
took another step backward. “Lucky for you, I’m not a caveman.”

“Lucky for me,” she echoed,
knowing it wasn’t even remotely true.

o
o o o

Morgan force
d himself to avoid Amelia for the following week. Oh, he still heard her come home at night, still listened to her shower, her music, her wave sound app. But he didn’t dare let himself run into her.

It
had taken every ounce of restraint he could muster to walk away from her after their kiss. Caveman or not, he’d desperately wanted to haul her off to his bed and make love to her. Not that she would have said yes. That was just hopeful thinking on his part. And, if he’d pressed, it would have been embarrassing for them both.

For
a few days afterward, he didn’t trust that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself if he saw her again.

Luckily,
it was Saturday night now. She was sure to be at work, so it was safe for him to venture into the yard. May had turned into June, and the weather was going from warm to hot. He’d spend his Saturday morning bike riding in the hills and most of the afternoon at a karate dojo in town. It had taken a few false starts, but he’d finally found a club that seemed to suit his style of karate, more kata, less kumite, and no full-contact sparring. He liked the discipline of karate, the regular exercise, the feeling of self-confidence and mental control. He had no interest in fighting.

He’d taken a quick shower at the club, and
now he was looking forward to a dip in the pool along with a glass of wine. He’d figure out something to eat later on, maybe put on a classic movie. He didn’t really feel like doing much of anything tonight.

Wearing a pair of loose, black bathing trunks, a
towel over his shoulder and an open bottle of cabernet sauvignon in his hand, he eased open the door and walked onto the patio. Too late, he saw Amelia lounging in her own pool across the low fence.

“Hi, Morgan,” she greeted cheerfully.

He quickly cataloged his options and concluded he had none except to carry on.

“I thought you’d be at work,” he
returned.

“Night off.
Going swimming?”

“I thought I’d cool off,” he
said.

“Perfect timing.”
She held an empty wineglass in the air, waggling it from side to side. “I need a refill.”

Again, he had no options except the obvious.
“I’ve got a cab sauv.”

“Yum.
Come on over. The water’s fine.”

“Sure,” he
said, giving in to the inevitable as he kicked off his flip-flops to make his way across the lawn.

Her underwater lights were on, illuminating her tiny
, yellow bikini. Her tanned skin was obscured by the water, but she looked fantastic anyway. The closer he got, the more he desired her.

Fixing his focus on her
wineglass, he leaned over to pour.

“You are a gentleman,” she told him approving
ly, completely oblivious to the carnal thoughts running through his brain.

He tossed his towel to one side, set the wine bottle and his
own glass on the deck then lowered himself into the pool, sitting down on the wraparound tile bench.

“Feels good,” he noted as the cool water
surrounded him.

“It must have been ninety-five toda
y,” she observed as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“Were you outside?” he asked, ordering himself to
keep it light and impersonal.

“Down at
Andrea’s Gym.”

“You work out?” For some reason, that surprised him. Not
to say she wasn’t in good shape. She was in amazing shape. He just couldn’t picture her on free weights and rowing machines.

“It’s a
gymnastics gym.”

“
Ahhh.” He swirled the wine in the bottom of his glass.

“I’ve been involved in gymnastics since I was seven. Most cheerleaders are. I also do ballet, though not as often as I used to. But, depending on the role, I might take it up again on a regular basis.”

“You dance ballet?” Now that he could picture.

“
I look pretty good in a tutu,” she joked.

“I bet you do.” As soon as the flirtatious words were out, he regretted them. He quickly took a drink of his wine
to cover the mistake.

“
What about you?” she asked.

“I’d look terrible in a tutu.”

She gave a soft chuckle.

“At least, I hope I would,” he elaborated. “It’d be pretty damn depressing if I didn’t.”

She made a show of eyeing him up and down under the water. “I think we’re safe in saying you’d look awful. So, what did you do today?”

“
I went bike riding, quite a ways up in the hills.”

“I thought the road ended at the park.”

“There’s a huge network of trails up higher. One of my colleagues at Caltech is a big mountain biker. I’ve always done road biking, but I’m making the switch. It’s a whole new experience.”

“
How so?”

“No noise. No traffic.
Lots of bumps, and plenty of up and downhill. And, of course, spectacular views.”

“I’d like to try it sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Okay, he got that if she was a normal woman, now would be the time to ask her on a date. But this was Amelia, cheerleader, budding movie star and goddess extraordinaire. She didn’t want to date nerdy researcher Morgan Holbrook. Again, he’d embarrass them both if he asked.

“
Cole and I usually head out somewhere on the weekend,” he offered instead. “You’re welcome to come along.”

There was a trace of amusement in her eyes. “Thanks.”

Had he blown that? It felt like he’d blown it. But, of course, he hadn’t. He’d done the right thing.

“What’s up with the reunion?” she asked.

It took him a minute to figure out what she was talking about. “You mean the high school thing?”