Matching Mr. Right (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 1)
Read Matching Mr. Right (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Tamra Baumann
Matching Mr. Right
Tamra Baumann
ALSO BY TAMRA BAUMANN
It Had to Be Him
It Had to Be Love
It Had to Be Fate
It Had to Be Them (Oct 2016)
This book is dedicated to all my fellow Golden Heart
®
sisters
and brothers. May all of your dreams come true.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
“Chester the monkey never meant to be bad . . . he just couldn’t seem to help it.”
Chester’s Very Bad Day
Shelby Marx narrowed her eyes, studying the man seated across from her. If he hired her to enhance his online dating image, she’d use words in his profile like
tall
,
rugged
,
outdoorsman
and
sports enthusiast
, because a body like his didn’t come from a gym. His dark hair had subtle streaks of red from the sun, and his arresting blue eyes bored straight into one’s soul.
Perfection—except for a slight bump on the bridge of his nicely proportioned nose. Probably broken in one of his manly pursuits. He’d be considered a ten on any woman’s scale.
“So, why should I use your little online service when there are so many other options, Ms. Marx?”
Until he spoke.
Arrogance dropped Nick Caldwell’s rating to a six. He’d been brusque and held a distinctly disinterested air from the moment they shook hands.
Ignoring his remark about her “little online service” she said, “I’m the best.” She slid her brochure across the table and beamed a confident smile
.
“Why settle for less?”
He grunted in a caveman-like way before his dark-haired head lowered to study the brochure she’d designed for her matchmaking business, Cyrano at Your Service.
While waiting for his next rude response, Shelby drew in the rich aromas of coffee and buttery goodness as she studied the crowded café her best friend, Joann, had opened nine months earlier. Shelby’s investment in Confections and Coffee gave her a forty percent ownership in the company. Maybe soon she’d start seeing some returns in actual dollars rather than in free coffee and turkey sandwiches. Then she could focus on writing children’s books full time, and convincing the man she’d loved since she was fourteen to quit regarding her as nothing more than his little sister’s best friend. Unrequited love stunk. But that would end soon, because she had a plan.
“Let me get this straight,” the cave dweller spoke, drawing her attention back to their meeting. “I spend all night filling out a questionnaire that you’ll use to tweak my online dating profiles, showing me in the best possible light. You filter the responses and arrange dates for the most promising women. And then, if I pay extra, you accompany me on the first meet? Like Cyrano? Standing in the bushes whispering words to help me woo a woman?” Laughing, he tossed the brochure aside.
His smile showed off perfect, straight, white teeth. He was a walking, and unfortunately talking, cliché. It just wasn’t fair. Some of that perfection should’ve been spread around.
She sighed. “Standing in bushes isn’t my idea of fun, so I usually opt to sit at a nearby table. By using tiny Bluetooth devices, I can listen to the conversation and then give my clients advice, helping them avoid those nasty lulls. But I don’t think a guy like you would be interested in that part of my service.”
His eyes narrowed. “What kind of guy do you think I am?”
Rude and stuck-up came to mind.
“Confident. I won’t know what you’re looking for in a woman until you spend
all night
filling out my form, but you don’t strike me as someone who’s seriously looking for his soul mate.”
“Soul mate?” He snorted. “You’re one of those?” He leaned closer and a wave of expensive, spicy aftershave filled the narrow space between them. “I’ll bet you dream of the knight on a white charger who’ll sweep you away to his castle so you can live happily ever after.”
Yup, and her knight’s name was Doctor Gregory Westin. He was due to return from a two-year stint with Doctors Without Borders next week. But the horse and castle she could live without. That’d just be overkill.
Shelby lifted her chin. “So, Mr. Caldwell, if you’re not in search of true love, why
are
you here? My website and brochure say nothing about providing pimp or escort services.”
He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Studying her closely, he took a long sip from his coffee cup, as if contemplating the State of the Union rather than the answer to her simple question.
After sampling a bite of the chocolate chip cookie Shelby provided for all her first meetings, his eyes widened. “That’s damned good!”
She half-expected him to say “ugh” or beat his chest in approval. Instead, Nick finished the cookie off in three normal-sized bites, then wiped his mouth on his napkin.
At least he had nice table manners.
“I don’t need help in the sex department, Ms. Marx. I’m a realist. I’m not expecting to find love, just someone compatible who I can enjoy spending time with. I work a lot and have limited time to date.” Then he shot her what seemed like his first genuine smile all day. “But if
you’re
unattached . . . maybe we could just skip that long questionnaire?”
It took all her might to refrain from rolling her eyes. “I don’t date clients.”
“I haven’t signed anything, so I’m not your client.”
Nor would he be. She barely kept her head above water financially, but she had her standards. She didn’t need the man’s business that badly. Even if he was the most enticing piece of eye candy she’d ever met.
Shelby gathered her things and stood. When he stood as well, she held out her hand. “I’m sorry my little online service isn’t what you’re looking for. I wish you well, Mr. Caldwell. Goodbye.”
He took her hand but didn’t shake it. Instead, he gently held it as he gazed deeply into her eyes. Something in his expression changed from impudence to . . . respect? It sent an odd flutter to her stomach.
His mouth tilted into a slow grin. “No, I think you’re just what I’m looking for, Shelby Marx. I’ll fill out the questionnaire on your website tonight, and I’ll even pay for the full package. It might be fun to hear your gravelly, sexy voice whispering in my ear.” He gave her hand a soft squeeze, then turned to leave.
Shelby stared at his broad back draped in fine Italian silk as he shoved open the double glass doors and slapped on a pair of designer sunglasses. Why did a good-looking guy like him need her help?
What was he up to?
***
Nick started his Porsche and slipped out of his parking space. He could sense that Shelby had suspected his intentions weren’t on the up-and-up, but he hadn’t lied to her. He hadn’t told a lie since his father walked out on their family, because of him, twenty years ago. Being in business, he’d learned to hold his cards to his chest, withhold certain facts, but to always tell the truth when asked a direct question. Doing otherwise could ruin people’s lives. Like his mother’s.
He’d filled out his real information on Shelby’s interview sheet, so his charade wouldn’t last forever, but spying on her might turn out to be the most fun he’d had in a long while.
Shelby’s image tugged a smile from his lips as he merged into traffic. A sexy blonde pixie with a surprisingly deep, smoky voice, a pert nose, and the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. Even better, the woman had a backbone of steel. He admired that. She was half his size and yet didn’t put up with any of the crap he’d thrown out to test her. She’d passed with flying colors.
Shelby Marx, of the obscenely wealthy Marx clan who’d amassed their fortune in Denver real estate, was one interesting woman. It didn’t hurt that he’d enjoyed her company more than he’d had any other woman’s in a very long time.
After asking one of Shelby’s cousins about her and perusing the Net, he’d learned her aunt and uncle had raised her. No one seemed to know what happened to her parents. Or, no one was talking. Strange that a wealthy heiress like Shelby’s mother could simply vanish off the face of the earth. Probably a lot more to that story, and it made Shelby an even greater mystery. One he’d enjoy solving.
He pulled into the underground parking lot at his office building and glided into his assigned spot. Now he just had to figure out what it was that made Shelby’s business so successful. Shelby was his sister Lori’s biggest competitor. He’d find out Shelby’s business secrets the legal way, by becoming her client, and then make sure his sister’s business became just as successful. Lori, recently widowed and too stubborn to ask for help, ran her online matchmaking service with her heart—the business part wasn’t her priority, but it needed to be.
He’d promised his grandmother the night she died that he’d help Lori’s business thrive, thereby keeping the long line of matchmakers on their mother’s side of the family alive. Grams said Lori’s daughter, his niece, Emily, had the “gift” too, so it was his job to be sure there was a business to pass down. How Grams could tell that a six-year-old had the “gift” seemed a little nuts, but a promise was a promise, so he’d keep it. And what his sister didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, so he’d had to resort to fixing her business behind her back.
Fixing things is what he did best.
As he exited his car and headed for the tenth floor, a familiar Disney ringtone sounded from his suit coat. He reached for his cell and answered with “Hello, your highness.”
Emily, who had recently declared she’d planned to be a princess when she grew up, giggled. “Hi, Uncle Nick. Mommy said to remind you how hard it is for single mommies to be in two places at the same time before I ask you something.”
“Put your mother, the blackmailer, on the phone, Em.”
After a moment, and a brief discussion with Emily, Lori said, “Thanks a lot. First you buy a six-year-old a cell phone just because she asked, and now I have to explain to her what blackmail is?”
“Serves you right.” Nick walked through the glass doors, waved to the receptionist, then headed toward his office. “But all you have to do is tell her it’s what you do to me anytime you want a favor.” He pulled off his suit coat and tossed it on the leather couch in his office before loosening his tie. “Make it quick. I’m busy.”
“Yeah, yeah, busy killing people’s hopes and dreams when you tell them they aren’t necessary to the company’s bottom line. Doing something noble for a change will be good for your blackened soul.”
“How about all those jobs people get to
keep
when I save said business from failing?” He wiggled his mouse and called up his e-mail. It was his job to restructure businesses. Sometimes that meant jobs had to be cut. “My soul’s as white as the driven snow.”
“White as the . . .” His sister’s snort of disbelief mixed with the sounds of tapping on a keyboard. “So, anyway, I have a meeting and you’re my last resort. Emily’s looked forward to the Chester book signing all week. If you refuse, you’ll be responsible for her little broken heart. Not that you’re unaccustomed to breaking women’s hearts.”
“Hey, I haven’t broken anyone’s heart in years. I actually had a steady relationship for the past two years, remember?” Beth had broken things off a month ago because she’d been working nonstop on a big case and her career came first. He totally got that. No hard feelings.
“That wasn’t a real relationship by anyone’s standards. And she’s playing the oldest trick in the book by breaking up with you and hoping you’ll miss her. She’s in love with you and waiting for you to grow up and realize you’re not like Dad.”
He’d never be like his cheating father. Causing the kind of pain he watched his mother go through. He saw no benefits to marriage and kids. Especially after the hurt his father had caused his family.
And Beth, in love with him? Nope. They’d had rules. They’d been free to date others, but if they slept with someone else, the deal between them was over. Beth was a busy lawyer and she’d wanted the same thing he did. Uncomplicated, monogamous sex without the messy emotions. It had served them both well for their time together. Lori was just trying to guilt him into taking Em.
“Beth knew I’ll never marry, so your theory is full of cra—”
“Says you. So, I’ll drop Em off at your office tomorrow at about three thirty, then all you have to do is take her to the bookstore by the mall. It starts at four.”
He’d had to do worse things growing up in a house full of women. If he could buy emergency tampons and pink nail polish, he could probably handle a trip to the bookstore with his niece.
After a quick look at his schedule he added some bite to his bark. “I’ll expect to be fed after!”
