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

by Dunlop, Barbara

  Before his mind could conjure up a completely inappropriate image of Amelia in a wedding dress, Morgan answered his phone. “Hello?”

  “Morgan?” came a rather stilted, male voice.

  “Yes?”

  “This is JW, your grandfather, calling.”

  “Hello, JW.” The rational part of Morgan’s brain immediately snapped to the fore, pushing aside emotion and humor.

  There was a silence on the other end of the line, and then JW cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to bother you, Morgan.”

  “No problem.”

  “I was, uh, wondering if you were having a nice weekend.”

  The question was so unexpected, Morgan pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it for a moment.

  “What?” Amelia whispered, moving closer.

  He returned the phone to his ear. “Uh, yes,” he said to JW.

  “That’s good,” JW said. “Anything, um, well, interesting happening with you?”

  Morgan realized that his grandfather was even worse at small talk than he was. Hard to imagine, but there it was. He realized he’d have to help the conversation along. He struggled to remember Amelia’s advice. He knew he was supposed to say something that JW could follow up on with a question.

  “I attended my high school reunion last night,” he tried.

  “That’s nice,” said JW. And then he paused again.

  Morgan wanted to shout out that he wasn’t doing it right. Instead, he gave it another try. “It was in Sacramento. So I’m here for the weekend.”

  “That’s nice,” said JW. “Did you take a date to the dance?”

  Morgan found himself letting out a breath of relief. “Yes, I did. My neighbor. Her name is Amelia.” He realized he hadn’t left much for his grandfather, so he added, “She’s trying to get a job as an actress.”

  Amelia moved back into the bathroom, continuing to comb her hair in front of the mirror.

  “So, in Hollywood then?”

  “Yes, in Hollywood.” Morgan scrambled for something else to add. “She’s also working as a waitress in Pasadena.” And then it hit him. “She graduated from U of Arizona this year.” Surely his grandfather could at least ask about her degree.

  “Is she pretty?” asked JW.

  The question was completely unexpected.

  Morgan found his gaze going to Amelia. “Yes, she is.” He realized his tone had gone hushed.

  “That’s good,” said JW. “I’m, uh, glad to hear it.” There was some kind of sound in the background at JW’s end. “Did you enjoy dancing with her?”

  “Why are you asking?” Since when did a no-nonsense, former Army general give a damn about Morgan’s love life?

  “I’m a curious old man.”

  “You’re not that old.” And from what Morgan had seen, JW wasn’t that curious, either.

  “I won’t bother you anymore,” said JW.

  “It’s no—”

  “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “It’s no bother,” said Morgan, knowing he should give a relationship, any kind of a relationship with his biological grandfather, every chance he could. “Thanks for calling.”

  “It was nice to talk to you,” said JW.

  “How are things in Florida?”

  There was a muffled sound on the other end again.

  “Do you have company?” asked Morgan. “Do you need to go?”

  “Just the neighbors,” said JW. “Hannah and Daisy are calling me out to the pool.”

  Morgan smiled as he remembered the two women. “Oh, wait. I forgot to mention that I met Sam in Pasadena last week.”

  “Yes, he told me,” said JW.

  “His lectures were amazing. Can you tell him how much I enjoyed them?”

  “I will. Yes. I’ll be sure to do that.”

  “Thanks, JW.”

  “You’re welcome, Morgan.”

  “Say hi to everyone. And enjoy the pool today.”

  JW cleared his throat again. “I will. Enjoy Sacramento.”

  Morgan’s gaze went to Amelia again. Now, she was stroking on some makeup. Watching her do that seemed so intimate, like such an incredible privilege.

  “I will,” he told his grandfather. “Bye.”

  “Goodbye,” JW returned.

  Morgan hit the off button, setting his phone on the desk.

  Amelia slipped off her robe, and arousal nearly buckled his knees.

  o o o o

  Amelia had never had such great sex. Her brain still hummed a sappy song, and her thighs still tingled with aftershocks as she and Morgan made their way out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby.

  “I am truly and completely starving,” she told Morgan, her nose twitching at the scents of pancakes and sausage.

  He chuckled, wrapping his big hand around hers. “I can’t believe you made it this long.”

  “Pancakes,” she told him. “Definitely pancakes.”

  He angled them toward the café. “It looks like they have a brunch buffet.”

  “Even better.” Her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

  “Table for two,” he told the hostess.

  “Would you like menus?”

  “I think we’re going to do the buffet.”

  Amelia’s gaze was already locked on the semi-circular stations of silver steamers, chefs at waffle and omelet stations, colorful fruit platters, cheeses and desserts. Oh, the desserts looked like they were to die for.

  A female voice called from within the restaurant. “Amelia.”

  She glanced up to see Nina waving to her from a table with Chad. Morgan tensed beside her.

  Amelia smiled and waved back, and Nina motioned them over.

  “We don’t have to,” Amelia whispered to Morgan.

  But Nina was rising from her chair. Chad stood as well, though he stayed at the table.

  “Please join us,” said Nina. “They can join our table,” she told the hostess. “There’s room,” she said to Amelia.

  Amelia looked to Morgan.

  “Sure,” he said tightly, but Nina didn’t seem to notice his hesitation.

  As Nina ushered them across the room, Amelia tried not to feel deflated. But Morgan had been in such a good mood, and she’d been feeling so satisfied, so buoyed, so ridiculously excited about spending the next few hours with him, she couldn’t help resenting the intrusion.

  “Sit here,” Nina put Amelia next to Chad at the round table.

  Her place was on the opposite side of her husband, creating buffers between the two men. Not a bad strategy in Amelia’s mind. But that brought up the question of what Nina thought she was doing. She was too smart to miss the undercurrents between the two men. And after Rudy’s behavior last night, well, inviting them to sit at the same breakfast table seemed nothing short of dangerous.

  “Hello, Chad,” said Morgan, his tone dead-flat.

  “Morgan,” said Chad.

  The two women sat down, then the men both took their seats. A waiter immediately arrived with glasses of ice water for Amelia and Morgan.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia caught Nina nudging her husband with her knee.

  Chad seemed to brace himself.

  “I’m very glad we ran into you,” he opened, looking directly at Morgan. “I wanted a chance to apologize for Rudy’s behavior last night.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Morgan responded, his tone still icy.

  “I hadn’t seen him in years,” Chad continued. “I didn’t realize. I mean, I had no idea. I guess what I mean is, when I watched his behavior last night, I realized what colossal assholes we’d all been back then. Not just to you, but to other people as well. I’d deluded myself into thinking it wasn’t as bad as I’d remembered.” He gave a shake of his head. “But then I watched Rudy last night. He was exactly, exactly the same as we all were in high school. It was unforgivable.”

  Chad’s gaze moved to Amelia. “I am so sorry, Amelia.”

  “You didn’t do anything,�
� she pointed out.

  “Rudy was once my friend. If it helps at all, I gave him my unvarnished opinion of his behavior last night, and I’ve cut off all ties.”

  Nina reached out to squeeze her husband’s arm.

  Chad returned his attention to Morgan. “I need to tell you that I am incredibly impressed with what you’ve achieved. When I learned you were in Pasadena...”

  Amelia stole a surreptitious glance at Morgan, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

  “Do it,” Nina ordered Chad.

  Chad took a sip of his water. “I have no right to ask this. And I’ll understand if you tell me there’s no way in hell. But I’ve been pulling together a student technology center in Pasadena.” He began speaking more quickly. “We’ve managed to get donations of equipment and materials. The focus is on prototyping for innovation, whether it be wood, metal, plastics, electronics, engines, the whole range. I want to give high school and college students a place where they can put their ideas into action. And, well, what I need most is mentors, people who can give a few hours a week to provide expertise. Give a leg up to the next generation of entrepreneurs. And I wondered, that is, I hoped...” Chad stopped.

  Morgan didn’t answer. He hadn’t moved a muscle.

  Amelia squelched a ridiculous desire to wave a hand in front of his face.

  “You want my help?” Morgan asked Chad.

  “I would love your help. On the ground, absolutely. And with a name like yours attached, we can attract attention from companies willing to provide equipment.”

  “My name?” Morgan seemed confused.

  “Your name, Morgan Holbrook, PhD, Caltech researcher.”

  “You think it would help?”

  Chad smiled and seemed to relax a little. “Are you being modest, or do you really not know?”

  “Know what?”

  Chad leaned slightly forward. “You don’t get letters from corporate headhunters?”

  “Sure. Doesn’t everybody?”

  “How many are well into six figures? How many do you get a week?”

  “Maybe a dozen.”

  Amelia drew back, staring at Morgan in awe. “You get a dozen job offers a week?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Like I told you, an ability to understand science and technology is something that happens to be of value at this particular point in history.”

  “I didn’t think guys who forge weapons and handle broadswords got job offers like that.”

  Chad and Nina both looked confused.

  “Sorry,” said Amelia. “Kind of an inside joke.”

  “I don’t know how Rudy missed it,” said Nina.

  Now Amelia was confused. “Missed what?”

  “That you two are a serious item.”

  Amelia and Morgan glanced at each other.

  “We’re—” said Morgan.

  “I’m—” said Amelia

  They both stopped at the same time.

  “It’s so obvious,” Nina laughed. “It practically oozes from your pores.”

  “What do you say?” Chad asked Morgan. “Any chance I’m going to be able to talk you into this?”

  Morgan seemed to relax for the first time since Nina had called out to them. “It sounds like a very worthwhile thing you’re undertaking. I’d love to help.”

  “Fantastic,” said Chad, smacking his hand down on the table.

  A sweep of relief and satisfaction flowed through Amelia. Coming to the reunion had been the right thing to do after all.

  Chapter Nine

  After breakfast, Morgan and Amelia had seven hours before their flight. So he rented a sports car to drive them toward Napa Valley so he could show her the sights. They were cruising along the edge of a river with the top down. Amelia’s ponytail was flying, and her eyes were covered by sunglasses as she gazed at the passing scenery.

  “I’m not used to you being so quiet,” Morgan noted.

  She turned, angling toward him. “I’m not used to you being quite so intimidating.”

  Her answer confused him. “I’m not being intimidating. Is there something wrong with my driving?”

  “Twelve job offers a week?”

  “They’re not all good offers.”

  “You must laugh at me.”

  “When?”

  “Burning offers by the dozens while I trudge home, all discouraged and deflated after trying desperately to land a thirty-second spot on a commercial.”

  “I never laugh at you,” he told her sincerely. “And we both know breaking into acting is a lot harder than breaking into applied physics.”

  “I’m sorry.” She gave her head a little shake. “Would you care to repeat that ridiculous statement with a straight face?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “I mean the competition is stiffer in acting. More people want to be actors.”

  “That’s because more people can’t pass the exams required to get a PhD in physics. Any idiot can wake up one morning and decide they’re an actor.”

  “You went to school for acting,” he pointed out.

  “Fat lot of good it’s done me.” She looked genuinely depressed.

  “What’s more,” he continued, “you’re a natural. You act every day, in every little thing you do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Take yesterday,” he said. “You have Nina completely convinced we’re an item. It’s obviously nothing I did. And at work. I’ve seen you in action at Sapphire Sunday. You make each and every customer, no matter how obnoxious, think they’re witty and debonair.”

  “That’s for the tips.”

  “Of course it’s for the tips. But you’re the one who pulls it off. Maybe during your next audition you should pretend the casting director is a customer at Sapphire Sunday.”

  She gazed at him for a long moment, obviously contemplating his suggestion. “You’re serious?”

  “When you rehearsed with me in the backyard, especially when you played the bad girl, you pushed it too far, you were trying too hard. When you’re angling for tips, you seem to let it flow more naturally.”

  She slumped down a little in her seat. “That’s not the worst suggestion I’ve ever heard.”

  He smirked. “Thanks.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t,” he parroted her earlier words then waited.

  She arched a brow at him, obviously getting his sarcasm. “I mean, of all the suggestions I’ve ever heard in my life, yours isn’t the worst.”

  Morgan couldn’t help laughing. “You’re so good for my ego.”

  “You get twelve job offers a week. Your ego is doing just fine, thank you very much.”

  “Yeah? Well, you get twelve wolf whistles an hour, so your ego is doing fine, too.”

  “Nobody wolf whistles anymore.”

  “They do it inside their heads.”

  “You think I should feel complimented when guys check me out?”

  Morgan swung the car into the parking lot of a vineyard. “I think you’re a beautiful woman. Life gives certain advantages to a beautiful woman.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he could see she was framing up a rebuttal.

  He stopped the car and pulled on the emergency brake, shutting the engine down. “If nothing else, you get free drinks at bars.”

  She dragged the elastic out of her ponytail, raking spread fingers through her hair. Even windswept, she looked fantastic.

  “I’ll give you that one,” she said, opening her door. “But if I could earn a six-figure salary, I wouldn’t need anyone to buy me drinks. I’ve stopped feeling guilty about the dress, by the way.”

  He stepped out the driver’s side. “I never wanted you to feel guilty about the dress.”

  “Answer me this,” she said as they approached the gates of the vineyard. “Would you trade my beauty for your brain?”

  “Since I’m not
secretly a woman trapped in a man’s body, no.”

  “Well, I’d trade,” she told him.

  “You’d become a man?” He couldn’t begin to tell her how much he’d hate that.

  “I’d become a mousy-looking brainiac in a heartbeat.”

  He drew back, making a show of eyeing her up and down. “I’m trying to picture that.” He paused. “Nope. You still look sexy to me.”

  “Oh, my God,” she breathed.

  “What?”

  “Look.” She nodded up ahead, and he turned.

  He smiled in satisfaction at the view.

  Spread out in front of them was row upon row of grapevines, sloping downhill toward a crystal-blue lake. At the edge of a forest, overlooking the estate, was a massive castle with turrets and towers, and a massive patio covered in restaurant tables.

  “This is amazing,” said Amelia.

  “Do you want to taste some wine?”

  “Absolutely. Did you know this was here?”

  “Only from reading it on the map. I’ve never been to this vineyard before.” He’d chosen it because the brochure had described wine-tasting, a restaurant and a scenic waterfall.

  They paid an entry fee and found themselves a small, round, bar-height table on the deck. There, they chose a wine-tasting package of four varieties. They were next to the rail, with a view of the lake and the waterfall.

  “Let’s practice,” Morgan suggested while they waited for their wine to arrive.

  “Practice what?”

  “Be the bad girl again.”

  Amelia glanced around, a blush coming into her cheeks. “Here?”

  “Why not? It’s a lot like your home turf.” He cocked his head to one side. “What did you do with the painting?”

  She straightened in her chair, and he could see she was thinking through the role.

  “Don’t,” he cautioned. “Don’t overthink it. Just roll with it. What did you do with the painting?”

  She tossed back her hair, reaching out to finger the clean wineglass in front of her. She didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I never even saw the painting.”

  “You were at the party.”

  She gave a coquettish smile, with a hint of hardness around her eyes. “I’m always at a party.”

  The waitress arrived with their wine, four glasses on each of two trays, all labeled.

  Morgan didn’t break the scene. “You seem like the kind of woman who’s always upstairs.”