by Laura Burton
Sure, they had the fancy VIP package that I’d participated in. And yes, they had a mixer club for singles to mingle. But they didn’t have a completely virtual experience that still offered the benefits of a dedicated matchmaker. So, I wrote some code, invested a little bit of my trust money in a pilot program, and the third level of First Comes Love’s offerings was born.
The best part was that even though Amy had all of these new responsibilities with running the company, she didn’t want to completely let go of matchmaking. The new virtual model allowed her to take on a client here or there without intruding too much on her CEO duties. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy helping her with that from time to time. It was all about looking at data and matching like pairs.
And speaking of matching like pairs … there was something I needed to do.
“Amy?” I closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table, then stood. “Let’s go out for lunch.”
She shrugged. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“You’ll see,” I replied. “I’m just going to step outside and make a phone call. I’ll meet you out front in five?”
“Sure.” She came over to me then, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around my neck. She planted a kiss on one cheek, then the other, and finally a slower, sweeter one landed on my lips. When we broke apart, her eyes were smiling even as her mouth turned down into a frown. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”
My brow furrowed. “I’ll only be a second. I just need to call a friend.”
“No, Dex,” she said, throwing her head back with a laugh. “I don’t mean that. I meant the deployment.”
I swallowed, understanding now. My last deployment with the Marines was looming over us, and neither one of us was looking forward to it. “Right.”
“I know you said it’ll go by fast, but still.”
“Think of it this way, it’s the only deployment you’ll ever have to deal with. After that, I’ll be retired, and you’ll be stuck with me forever.”
I hadn’t meant to start speaking of forever until we got to lunch, but considering the plan I had in mind, I wouldn’t mind hearing her reaction to the word.
Thankfully, I was rewarded with a huge grin. “Can’t wait.”
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the strip mall parking lot that housed the cafe where we’d first met at my initial appointment. They didn’t just serve coffee, but a light breakfast and lunch menu as well. We’d gone there many times in the last six months, so I knew she wouldn’t think anything of it now. It had become our place.
“Oh, good choice,” Amy said when she hopped out of the car. “I’ve been craving one of their buffalo chicken wraps.”
I took her hand, squeezing it as we walked into the bright cafe. I was too nervous to say anything. My gaze scanned the faces of the employees working behind the counter, landing on Sam. She gave me a discreet nod as we approached the counter to order our food.
“Hey, Amy,” Sam said cheerily, giving nothing away. “Hey, Dex. How are you guys today?”
“Great, thanks,” Amy replied.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll have an iced tea and a buffalo chicken wrap, please.” Amy turned to me. “Dex?”
I cleared my throat. “Coffee, black—”
“With two sugars,” Amy added, making Sam smile.
“And a bagel sandwich,” I finished.
“You got it,” Sam said, telling us our total and processing the transaction. “Okay, you’re all set. I’ll call you when it’s ready at the counter.”
“Thanks,” I told her, praying she’d follow through with the plan I’d called ahead about. Her wink when Amy turned her back told me she would.
We took our usual seat in the back corner of the cafe and made small talk while we waited. Talking to Amy was as easy as breathing, and had only gotten easier now that we had the video games and the online matchmaking as shared endeavors. We never ran out of stuff to talk about or ways to make each other laugh. And as I sat there waiting for my plan to hatch, my limbs tingled in anticipation for when our names would be called.
“Oh,” Amy said, having heard it at the same time I had. “That’s us. I’ll grab it.”
She jumped up from the table and headed that way, and my body sagged as relief washed over me. Part of the success of my plan relied on her being the one to volunteer to get our food from the counter. I had no idea how I was going to ask her to go get everything without sounding really lazy.
I steepled my hands in front of my face and watched as she approached the counter. Sam handed her the food first, telling her the drinks weren’t ready yet. Amy brought the food to our table and I smiled tightly, pretending I wasn’t watching this play out with baited breath.
“I’ll go back for the drinks, one sec.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice to say anything.
When she got back to the counter, Sam had already placed the iced tea and my coffee on the counter and walked away. Amy picked up her iced tea and checked it for her name, then picked up my coffee and did the same.
Then, she paused.
With a confused tilt to her head, she set down her iced tea.
She gazed at the coffee in her hand. Slowly, she pulled the cardboard sleeve down, and then all the way off the paper cup.
And her mouth popped open, letting out what I was sure was an audible gasp if I’d been close enough to hear it.
When I’d called the cafe that morning and gotten Sam on the phone, I knew my plan had been cheesy. It also involved a lot of moving parts for it to work. But Amy was a romantic to the core. She constantly orchestrated elaborate scenarios for her clients, and though a simple proposal would have been easier for me, a complicated one would be more fun for her. So, I’d instructed Sam to write a message on the side of my cup for Amy to read, and I prayed that it would work out without a hitch.
Amy, you’ve been holding more than just my coffee hostage since we met. Will you marry me?
Her eyes flew to mine. Coffee forgotten, she put it on the counter and took off toward me. I stood, my heart racing, ready to catch her as she launched herself into my arms. Her hands gripped the sides of my face, and she pressed her lips to mine. I wrapped both of my arms around her waist, lifting her feet off the ground.
For a moment, I was completely unaware of the rest of the patrons at the cafe. All I could focus on was the way her soft lips moved over mine and the way I never wanted to stop kissing her. I was completely and utterly hers, forever.
A voice broke through the moment.
“Amy, is that a yes?” Sam called from behind the counter.
With a laugh, Amy pulled away, resting her forehead on mine. Her eyes were wet with what I hoped were happy tears, and her breath was ragged.
I smoothed a hand over her hair. “Well, is it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, grinning ear to ear.
“Yes?” I repeated louder.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s a yes, people!” Sam called, clapping her hands with the rest of the employees and customers of the small cafe.
And to the background noise of applause and cheers, I kissed her again.
About the Author
Jess Mastorakos writes clean military romance books that feature heroes with heart and the strong women they love. She is a proud Marine wife and mama of four. She loves her coffee in a glitter tumbler and planning with an erasable pen.
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Avoiding the Billionaire by Ginny Sterling
Chapter 1
Penelope Blake just wanted to be left alone to enjoy the wilds of Iceland. Dealing with some gorgeous guy that keeps appearing out of nowhere, is not exactly what she had in mind while writing her next travel blog.
Jon Leifsson wasn’t looking for love, but when he falls for the beautiful American that tells him to get lost—how can he resist when the pursuit is on?
Chapter 2
1
Grindavík, Iceland
Looking out from his seat, Jon Leifsson let out a heavy sigh and dreaded meeting his financial planner later in the afternoon. It was that time of the year again to review the books and listen to Gunnar’s beliefs of how he should invest his money. Gunnar looked at him and saw dollar signs, but Jon only saw history.
His family, his name, and his wealth were passed down over the generations, growing exponentially in the last few decades. His father, and now him, were land developers in a place that people thought was uninhabitable because of the snow and ice.
Iceland = ice… right?
That couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Yes, it was cold there. It absolutely snowed and could be downright miserable at times, but there was a fierce wildness to this land that was in his blood. The Leifssons had been a part of Iceland, a part of Reykjavik, forever. He couldn’t imagine a world where he couldn’t look out his window and see the whales breaching off in the distance or the glow of the aurora borealis in the midnight sky. There was a ferocity to his pride, and he just wished that others could appreciate what eons of time had brought to this world.
Even now, Jon pondered the legacy he would leave someday… he hoped. Smiling, he took a sip of his coffee and sighed. He was getting maudlin now that he’d reached the ripe age of thirty, his sister had said more than once. When Brigid called from her home in Husavik, he couldn’t help but smile at the excitement in her children’s voices in the background. He loved those little imps. It had been alarming to think his younger sister had two children, and he had no one in his world.
Glancing up, Jon saw a woman take a seat at a nearby table. He might have grown up in Reykjavik, but Grindavík was where he was building his empire—and his home. He owned this hotel and enjoyed the serenity of the atmosphere. It overlooked the majestic Blue Lagoon that people seemed to flock to from all around the world. He’d seen people from every country, from every corner of the globe, and their stunned fascination at the magical waters that were an Instagram hotspot.
It was prime real estate and Jon had snatched it up in a heartbeat.
The milky mineral-rich healing waters were the color of a bright summer sky. Wisps of steam rose from the surface of the geo-thermal spa, making the lagoon look ethereal and surreal in appearance. The black rock around it was stark in contrast, and everyone who visited the Blue Lagoon looked enchanted with it at first sight.
Except her, he thought curiously.
She looked almost… bored?
Jon stared at her for several minutes, sipping on his cup and ignoring the text message from Gunnar alerting him that he was late for his meeting. The auburn-haired woman met his eyes from the nearby table as she held the phone to her ear. Jon smiled politely with a slight nod in a welcoming fashion… only to see her roll her eyes, get up, and move to a table further away.
What in the world?
Stunned, he sat there, unable to pull his eyes away. He wasn’t an ugly man, and the look she’d given him was frankly a little insulting. He was annoying her? She was the one talking on her cell phone and doing a poor job in keeping her voice down.
“No,” she said in a monotone voice that carried in the restaurant's silence, since it wasn’t busy between meals. The waitress walked over and she asked for a Pepsi before settling for a cup of coffee. It was part of the reason he enjoyed coming down; he could get away from it all and think for a bit.
“Seriously, dude? I’m here, you are there. It would never work anyway because I’m not okay with being your second choice. What? No! You dumped me for some baby-mama-drama and now you want to ‘talk’? Do you know there are no Pepsi’s here?” she said exasperated, glancing over her shoulder around the room and meeting Jon’s eyes again. Those brownish orbs held his for a second before they annoyingly rolled back in her head again as she groaned audibly and flipped around in her seat.
“Look. This is pathetic, okay? I told you I hired another manager. I don’t work for you anymore. I don’t want to date you anymore—and I don’t want to hear from you ever again. Got it? Now, I need to go because we are done talking, and some creep is listening in. Bye.”
She hung up the phone.
Jon knew his face had to be ruddy with embarrassment because he was the ‘creep’ listening in and knew it. He was mortified and felt his pulse thumping in his ears with mortification. To his utter gall, the auburn goddess turned around, looking directly at him.
“Eavesdropping is rude, Ikea.” she said flatly.
“Pardon me?”
“Oooh and you speak English too? Even better,” she retorted, accepting the menu from the waitress, who looked completely dumbfounded. Igrid had been with the hotel since it opened and kept glancing at him, horrified. Jon held up his hand when Igrid opened her mouth to speak to the woman.
“My name is Jon, not Ikea. Wrong country.”
“Meh,” she shrugged nonchalantly, pointing at her head. “Northern, blond, and not put together quite right.”
Jon couldn’t help the bark of stunned laughter that escaped him at the rudely blunt stereotypical statement that fell from her mouth. He’d heard quite a bit over the years, but this took the cake! Smiling, he saw she was watching him and expecting an argument or fight—but he refused to give in to it. Instead, he got to his feet and walked over to the table, giving a slight bow as his cell phone alerted him again about his overdue meeting with Gunnar. Meeting her eyes, he smiled knowingly and leaned down.
“Let me guess? American?”
Before she could get a word in, edge-wise—Jon turned to Igrid.
“Treat our rude friend to something sweet for dessert… on me. Maybe that will soften her up and make her realize that it’s not polite to ostracize the people here.”
“I don’t need your money.”
“No, you need a dose of civility. Enjoy your time in Reykjavik, miss.”
Travel blogger and food critic, Penny Pincher, was mortified to be having this same discussion with Justin over and over again. The man would not leave her alone! He was clingy, overbearing, and truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she ever saw in him.
Good riddance!
Men seemed to always come on strong, and that was a tremendous turn off. Why couldn’t they just be nice, polite, and easygoing? Why did everything have to be a control issue? Even now, Justin was stalking her to the point that she blocked him on all social media—but that only caused him to join under aliases.
She had her own, and Justin was hunting her down everywhere!
Her actual name was Penelope Blake—Penny Pincher was just a fun pseudonym that she used for her articles, blog, and website. It was a play on her name and teased at how she liked to travel the world cheaply. She’d had the fancy job, the 9-to-5 chaos, and preferred her freedom to clocking in and out daily. She preferred to live a life free to explore every nook and cranny of the places she visited. There was so much more to life than just earning a dime—hence the name.
Her goal wasn’t just existing—it was living the dream!
And her dream was becoming a nightmare with the handsome guy in the corner of the restaurant gawking at her all the time and staring at her. To top it off she was dealing with a massive case of soda-withdrawal that was putting her on edge.
Was he listening in?
That was just terribly rude and uncouth!
It set her on edge and made her hackles rise. The last thing she needed was some dude trying to pick he
r up when she’d just arrived into town. She had a full schedule and romance was nowhere on there. It was time to give him the shove-off/go-away moves that she’d seen her friend, Lacey, do a time or two on a girl’s night out.
“Eavesdropping is rude, Ikea.” she said flatly, in a voice that reminded her of the last time Lacey gave someone the boot. Nasally, rude, and hostile, but in a Fran Dresher-ish tone. She failed miserably at her impression, but it was enough to see him do a double take.
“Pardon me?”
“Oooh! And you speak English too? Even better,” she retorted angrily, realizing that not only had he been listening—he understood every word. Greaaaaat! She thought she had privacy as she hashed out this crash course of a breakup, but to know that he understood grated on her nerves. Then, to top it all off, the snobby blond-haired man that made Chris Evans look like a chump, held up his hand to the waitress like he was used to women falling at his feet.
Not this woman! She thought wryly.
“My name is Jon, not Ikea. Wrong country.”
“Meh,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Northern, blond, and not put together quite right.”
The shocked look on his gorgeous face and the laugh that exploded from his mouth almost made her smile—almost! He stopped laughing and smiled at her, as if he was proud of how witty she was. No, she thought resentfully; she didn’t want to like this guy! Why wasn’t he getting angry or coming up with some snide, rude, comeback?
Instead, her breath caught in her chest as he got up and walked towards her. He was taller than she’d originally thought, and Penelope wasn’t a short woman. She was pushing five feet and ten inches herself, and he had to be close to that. Meeting her eyes, he smiled knowingly, and leaned down towards her, his voice dropping.
“Let me guess? American?”