Matching Mr. Right (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 1) (2 page)

“Deal. But don’t expect anything fancy.”

“Fine.” Before his sister could think of any other errands for him to run, he disconnected the call. Lori hated when he hung up on her. He could visualize the scowl on her face as she slapped the phone down. No one was more fun to tease. She’d surely find a way to retaliate.

He looked forward to it.

Chuckling, he got to work blackening his soul by saving businesses from certain death.

***

Shelby sat on her living room couch, her feet propped on the coffee table, tapping away at the keys on her laptop. She’d been off-kilter ever since her meeting with Nick Caldwell that morning, so it didn’t surprise her that she’d just written Chester, the mischievous little monkey in her books, firmly into a corner. One he couldn’t get out of even if he stacked a ton of bananas on top of each other.

She turned toward Joann, who sat at the opposite end of the couch. Shelby needed a jolt of inspiration or maybe a random idea that Jo always seemed able to provide. Her best friend, roommate, and now business partner, suddenly broke out in hysterical laughter at the
Real Housewives of Somewhere
on TV. Shelby hated those shows because the women who starred in them all reminded her of her cold, narcissistic aunt Victoria.

Rather than distract Jo from her fun, Shelby decided to call it a night. The solution would come to her by morning—hopefully. Her editor had her on tight deadlines, demanding three new books next year, and each one had to do better than the last. It was the only way it’d get her series off the mid-list and onto the bestseller list.

But making it onto a list wasn’t why she wrote books about an impish monkey who was always in trouble. She wanted to send the message that mistakes and accidents happen, and that kids need to learn to forgive themselves for them.

Fortunately, most kids didn’t have as much forgiving to do as she did. The scars left after Shelby had accidentally killed her parents and sister with her carelessness ran deeper than those the accident left on her legs. But if she could save just one kid from the guilt she felt everyday, it’d be worth all her efforts, no matter if she made the bestseller list or not.

As she was about to shut down for the night, her computer dinged, announcing an incoming e-mail from her Cyrano site. Eager to push away her unwanted thoughts of scars and guilt, she opened the message.

It was from
him
.

Clicking on the attachment, she scanned the pages before her. Nick had been true to his word, he’d paid for the full package. His face, in all its annoying perfection, beamed at her from the photos he attached. His questionnaire was completely filled out, and he provided all of his passwords to the social network and dating sites she’d suggested he join so she could edit them. Now the ball was in her court.

She’d googled Nick before she’d met with him and had found he was a year older than her at thirty, and he owned a successful business consulting firm. Nick seemed to be telling the truth about himself and his finances. She’d seen the Porsche he’d driven off in earlier, a similar model to the one she used to own before she’d sold it, deciding to live off of her own earnings, not the money controlled by her aunt and uncle.

Scanning Nick’s preferences in women, Shelby laughed. “Remember the annoying guy from this morning, Jo?”

“Who could forget?” Jo appeared by Shelby’s side instantly. “Is this the handsome caveman’s questionnaire?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna love it.”

Grinning, Jo grabbed the computer and placed it on her lap. “He likes his women tall, so that lets you out.”

“I’m crushed.” Shelby placed a hand over her heart. “But that’s good for you, Amazon girl.”

“Yes, it is.” Jo’s eyes lit with excitement until she saw the next two items. “Seriously? He wants a blonde with big boobs? The guy has no imagination whatsoever. He should expand to brunettes with normal-sized breasts. They’re the best in bed. I read a magazine quiz confirming that, by the way.”

Shelby nodded and worked to keep a solemn look on her face. “Undoubtedly. But don’t stop reading now.”

Jo’s eyes lit with outrage. “The man
cannot
be serious!”

Nick wanted the impossible. A blonde bombshell who liked to camp, play sports, watch sports, go to brew pubs, and he’d like her to bake for him. He loved sweets.

Shelby chuckled. “Only Nick’s dream girl could slam the game-winning pitch out of the park while not breaking a sweat. Then the team would celebrate at the nearest sports bar, where she’d push the cook out of the way and prepare the best pub grub known to mankind for Nick and his buddies. After that, they’d sit around reminiscing about the game she helped win and drink all those heavy, dark beers, not giving a second thought to maintaining that perfect figure of hers. Then she’d whisper in Nick’s ear how much she looked forward to their planned camping trip because she just adored skinny-dipping under waterfalls.”

Jo leaned closer to the screen. “He has skinny-dipping on his list?”

“No.” Shelby laughed. “But I think we’ve just about covered every fifteen-year-old’s idea of the perfect woman.”

“Good luck with this one.” Jo shook her head and handed the computer back. “Actually, if it weren’t for the tall part, and the big chest, Nick might just fall for
you
.” Jo batted her eyes, mimicking a proper Southern belle. “Shelby Marx, you’re just about the cutest tomboy God ever placed on this earth.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “I just hope your brother can forget that part and see me as a woman after all these years, not the girl they used to let play football with the boys after school.”

Jo smiled sweetly and patted Shelby’s arm. “You were the fastest little wide receiver in the neighborhood, Shelby, and the only girl who ever wanted to play with those rough boys. That might be a little hard for Greg to forget. But I’ll put in a good word for you. I’d love to see you guys end up together because then we’d be real sisters, not just of the heart.” Jo gave her a shoulder bump. “’Nite, Tomboy.”

“’Nite, Stick.” Letting out a long sigh, Shelby mumbled, “Please let Greg be the first to truly overlook the scars on my legs.”

CHAPTER TWO

“Always telling the truth is really hard to do, especially for Chester the monkey.”

Liar, Liar, Chester’s Pants are on Fire

Shelby glanced up from her laptop and scowled at Nick as he sauntered toward her across the busy café. The man was over an hour late and hadn’t even had the decency to call.

He folded his long body onto the chair next to hers. Then he blessed her with one of his don’t-you-think-I’m-adorable smiles. “My meeting ran long and I’m starving. What’s good today?”

Really? Not an “I’m sorry” or a “Hi how are you?”

“Manners are selling well today. You should get a double helping. You could use them.”

He chuckled. “Sorry I kept you waiting—”

Shelby raised a finger and pointed to her Bluetooth earpiece before activating her mic. She was helping a client two tables away and the conversation had slowed.

“Ask what she loves most about her best friend.” That got Randy’s date, a cute redhead, smiling and gushing, so Shelby sipped her skinny latte and called up Nick’s Facebook page on her computer.

“I have something later this afternoon, so I’m going to try to help you and Randy at the same time. Let’s start with these bromance pictures of you and your buddies flinging yourselves off things attached to bungee cords and ropes. Oh, and let’s not forget the mandatory group photos afterward celebrating your braveness with red plastic cups filled with beer.”

Nick leaned closer and threw his arm around the back of her chair.

Man, he smelled good.

“But that’s what I do.” He brushed his mouth against her ear and sent a quiver up her spine. “I’ve gotten lots of e-mails—with naked pictures attached—from these photos. Women like sweaty guys in tight shirts with all our muscles showing.”

She leaned away, disgusted with herself for momentarily wanting to feel those big muscles too. “Unless you’ve got aspirations to be a Chippendale dancer—”

“Dancing’s not my thing.”

“Or a gigolo, we’re getting rid of some of these skin shots, pal.”

“The gigolo I could do.” Nick grinned. “But you already told me you won’t be my pimp, so I’d have to find someone else if I went that route.”

After Shelby sent him a long sideways look, he said, “Okay. Whatever you say, Dating Master.”

She deleted most of the pictures and then added some of the professional headshots he’d provided. “Do you have any group family shots? That’d send a nice vibe.” And it’d be interesting to see if the rest of his family was as pretty as him.

“I’m sure I could find some.” Nick checked his Rolex. “Really, what’s good to eat?”

Shelby shushed him again so she could talk to Randy. “Ask her—”

“If she prefers baths or showers,” Nick blurted out.

“No, don’t!” Shelby jumped up and moved to the other side of the table. “Ask what her all-time favorite movie is.”

Sitting safely across from Nick, Shelby sent Randy an apologetic smile. Satisfied the conversation was back on track, she said to Nick, “I’m guessing you’re a meat eater. The pulled pork’s amazing.”

“Pulled pork it is.” Nick stood and weaved his big body through the tables. His suit, cut a little tighter than yesterday’s, showed off his big shoulders—and his rear end? Nice. He’d be a pretty decent gigolo at that.

When Nick slapped Randy on the back, Shelby’s heart nearly stopped. Nick beamed a bright smile at her confused client. “Nice to see you, man.”

What was he up to? Would he blow Randy’s cover?

Shelby whispered, “Just go with it, Randy. His name’s Nick.” Then she hopped up to move Nick along before he could do any more damage.

She stopped in her tracks when Nick introduced himself to Randy’s date and then proceeded to sing Randy’s praises.

Shelby let out the breath she’d been holding in as Nick told Randy to call him, then excused himself and made his way toward the order counter.

Sitting down again, she listened as Randy’s date said, “I have to get back to work, but this was fun. I’d really like to see you again—if you would?”

The shy smile that lit Randy’s handsome face made Shelby’s day. And when he took the opportunity to nail down a time before she could prompt him to do so, it made her proud. He was finally getting the hang of it. Another check in the win box. Yes!

Randy sent her a thumbs up behind his back as he walked his date out to her car.

Leaning back in her chair, she yanked the Bluetooth from her ear as she contemplated Nick’s actions. Had he done that to be nice, or obnoxious? It might have been just the nudge Randy’s date needed. To think Randy was friends with a smooth talking, handsome guy like Nick.

What the heck was Nick up to? He didn’t need her. He could have any woman he wanted.

A southwestern grilled-chicken salad suddenly appeared before her along with a frosty glass of her favorite strawberry iced tea.

Nick sat across from her and unloaded his lunch tray. He not only got the pulled pork sandwich and a pile of fat steak-cut fries, but chocolate-mousse pie and an éclair. How could he eat like that and still have all those bulging muscles instead of a pot-belly?

Stop thinking about those pictures!

“Thanks.” Digging her wallet from her purse she pulled out a ten wondering how he’d just happened to pick her favorite salad. “Lucky guess or are you a creepy stalker?”

He waved her money away. “Since you appear to office here, I asked the lady at the counter if she knew what you liked best. She told me she’d take care of it. After paying your full fee last night, I might have taken your money, but I was afraid she’d tell you and then you’d think I was a jerk.”

Too late—she knew he was a jerk. But a paying-client jerk, so she kept her yap shut.

“Smart move. Jo and I have each other’s backs.”

He nodded as he swiped a fat fry through a puddle of ketchup. “She mentioned you two go way back?”

“Yup. We were neighbors growing up and then went to the same college.”

“Have you found her a soul mate yet?”

“Maybe it’s me.” Shelby batted her eyes at him.

Nick sputtered into his Coke but quickly recovered. “Nope. You’re definitely into men.” He took another drink then laid his glass down, studying her intently. “So, have you found Jo the man of her dreams?”

She took a bite of her salad, making him wait for her response. “She’s not in the market at the moment. She’s concentrating on this café.”

Why were they sharing small talk? The man deserved payback for nearly giving her a heart attack. She shouldn’t do it, but like her favorite mischievous monkey, Chester, she couldn’t help herself. “But Jo often peruses magazine articles about relationships and dating. Just last night, she mentioned she’d read a survey of men who claimed brunettes were better in bed than blondes.” She smiled sweetly as she took a slug of iced tea. “Any thoughts on that, Mr. Caldwell?”

His brows furrowed as he contemplated his answer. “Those quizzes are bogus, but because you’re a blonde and my momma drowned all the dumb kids in our family, no comment.”

She laughed despite herself. “How many of those kids survived?”

“I have two older sisters. You?”

“I had a younger sister, but she died a long time ago.” A familiar arrow of pain stabbed at Shelby’s heart. She still missed Sarah like it was yesterday, not the twenty-two-years ago she’d lost her baby sister. And her parents too.

Nick’s sandwich stopped halfway to his lips. “Sorry. My sisters can be a real pain in the ass sometimes . . . but mostly they make me glad they’re mine.”

Glad they’re mine? Maybe Nick wasn’t a complete Neanderthal.

They ate in silence for a few minutes until Shelby just couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. “Why did you stop by Randy’s table?”

He shrugged. “Women have all the power in a first meet. They get to decide if you get a second chance. Never hurts to have a wingman.”

“Hummm” was all she could manage. So he was being nice to Randy? A puzzle—no, a contradiction. That’s what Nick Caldwell was.