Finding Forever

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by Christina C Jones




  Finding Forever

  Christina Jones

  Copyright 2014 by Christina Jones

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and scenarios are a direct product of the author’s ridiculous imagination. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, any events, locations, or business establishments is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any way without express written permission from the author. The only exception is the use of quotes for the purpose of reviews or promotion.

  Cover art by Christina Jones at Visual Luxe

  After her latest ill-fated attempt to find a forever relationship of her own, Tori Kennedy is content with connecting the dots for others, bringing them together in pursuit of lifetime love. Fresh off of the demise of her marriage, she decides to take advantage of an opportunity to do something a little — okay, a lot — crazy, and heavily fueled by an overload of emotions.

  Thinking that her impulsive decision and its disastrous results are behind her, Tori moves forward with her pursuit of a happily single existence, until her best friend contacts her with a request that places a constant reminder in her life : Avery.

  Avery Anderson is the epitome of “the kind of guy your momma warned you about.” Handsome, successful, charming… and not at all interested in being roped into anything that resembles love. Tori ending up in his bed doesn’t surprise him at all — it’s just what he does— but his feelings afterwards? That’s another story. An ultimatum placed on him by his little sister puts him back in arm’s reach of the pretty matchmaker that he can’t get off of his mind, but she’s not taking the bait this time.

  Tori just wants to be rid of him so that she can move on with her life, and it’s not Avery’s style to chase someone who doesn’t want to be caught. When both parties are content to let the spark flicker out, can love — or something like that— still lead the way to forever?

  —A word from the author –

  I hope you enjoy Tori and Avery’s story.

  I would love you know what you thought! You can share with me by leaving a review, visiting me at my website www.beingmrjsones.com (you can email me there, from the contact page) adding me as a friend on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Christinacjones or connecting with me on twitter, at @beingmrsjones

  Want updates on new releases and Giveaways? Join my mailing list!

  Other Titles By Christina Jones:

  Love and Other Things

  Strictly Professional

  Unfinished Business

  The Trouble With Love

  Coming Soon:

  Catch Me if You Can

  &

  The sequel to Love and Other Things: Nothing But Love

  — 1 —

  — Tori —

  Just breathe, Tori. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  I took a deep breath as I stood back from the mirror to inspect the third reapplication of my makeup. There was nothing I could do about the tear-induced redness rimming my eyes, but at least the rest of my face was flawless.

  Briefly— very briefly— I considered sneaking out of the resort and catching a cab back the airport. I could hop on a plane back to Dallas, or straight to wherever the hell Rafael was, and try to convince him that my drastic decision had just been a big mistake. A misunderstanding, a failure in communication… just a complete overreaction on my part. But… is there really such a thing as an overreaction to pictures splashed across the internet of your husband “entertaining” several of his fans at once?

  No. No, there is not.

  Nevertheless, there was no reason for me to travel that road, because it would only lead to another round of makeup-ruining tears. I shook the images from my mind, took another deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and held my head high. There was nothing to be gained from dwelling on stupid mistakes— at least not today. Today was not about me; it was about celebrating my best friend, Desiree, as she married the love of her life. With my mind focused on that, I pulled open the door of the bathroom and stepped out, immediately colliding with the chest of someone passing by.

  Strong arms closed around me, offering balance as I tried to steady myself on my feet. “Are you ok?”

  Ooh.

  My heart began to race as the soothing timbre of his voice swept through me, sending a pleasant tingling sensation up my spine.

  “Yes,” I replied, blushing as I took a step back, tripping over the train of my bridesmaid dress in the process. He caught me again, offering a smile that could only be described as seductive. Giving him a quick, but thorough once-over, I realized everything about this man was sexy.

  Tall? Check.

  Broad shoulders? Check.

  Sculpted jaw, straight nose, heavy brows, and full lips? Check, check, check, and check.

  Well-groomed facial hair? Double check.

  And his eyes. Dear God, those eyes. Deep, soulful brown pools I stared into for so long I nearly forgot where— and who— I was.

  “You sure you ok? You look like you’ve been crying, and I—”

  “No, I’m fine. Really,” I stammered as I stepped away, being careful not to stumble this time. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the bride.”

  Turning on my heels, I attempted to walk away, but the feeling of warm fingers around my wrist stopped me. “Wait a second,” he said, tugging gently on my arm to get me to face him. “You’re Tori, right?”

  I simply nodded, trying to avoid his eyes. I couldn’t get caught up in them again, especially when a touch as simple as his hand on my wrist had me feeling hot and bothered. What the hell was wrong with me? I was supposed to be grieving over the end of my marriage, not salivating over some stranger — a tall, sexy stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

  “I was looking for you, actually. I’m Desiree’s brother, Avery.”

  “Oh! Oh, wow, hi! Nice to meet you. I knew Des had a brother, but…” I caught myself before I finished the sentence. Aside from me rambling like an idiot, Desiree kept very quiet about her brother, even though she claimed they were close. But, one of the few things I knew about Avery — from Des — was that he was private, so it made sense that he wasn’t a regular topic of conversation. Still, maybe Des could have mentioned her brother was the Avery Anderson, owner of the largest black-owner auto-repair chain in the south and Midwest.

  I recognized him from the feature pages and websites of several business magazines I frequented. Many of his interviews reeked of arrogance, and he had a reputation for being blunt and demanding, but sometimes, in some fields, that’s just what it takes to get past the hurdles and become successful. His company, Ignition, was youthful and modern; a niche I never would have thought of for car repair, but it worked for him. Avery was wealthy, successful, and if I remembered correctly, he wasn’t even 35.

  He gave me a slow, sexy grin, making my heart flutter a little. “But… what? Hey, don’t believe anything my sister said about me— unless it was good.”

  I cut my eyes toward the ceiling, pretending to think about it with a grimace. “Ummm… unfortunately, that means I don’t have anything to believe about you.”

  Avery broke into carefree laughter, and the sound tugged at the tightness that had been laying on my chest since I signed the final divorce papers two days before. “Nothing, huh?”

  “Nope, sorry,” I teased, even as I nervously chewed my bottom lip, still trying — and failing — not to be drawn in again by his eyes. Avery still had me by the arm, and I was reluctant to pull away from the warmth of his touch even though something about this whole conversation felt too close for comfort.

  “Well, even though everything you know about me is bad, can I still escort you to Des�
� room? That’s actually why I was looking for you, Des is freaking out a little because she didn’t know where the maid of honor was and you weren’t answering your phone. I kinda promised her I would find you. And … maybe I can tell you some good things about me on the way.”

  Before I could respond, Avery placed a hand against the small of my back — which was bare, due to the style of the soft coral dress Des had chosen for me to wear— and turned me in the direction of her dressing room. He let it linger there as we walked, a liberty I usually would have politely rebuffed, but the weight of his hand felt comfortable, warm, and just good. It was a little crazy that this was the most intimate touch I’d experienced — and enjoyed— in the last several months, and this would need to hold me over for the next… lifetime.

  Prior to the short-lived disaster of my marriage, I’d concluded that I was one of ‘those’ women who were just meant to be single. I had abandoned that because of a teensy tiny spark of hope, but my plan now was to go back to the resolution I made before my now ex-husband Rafael had entered the picture. A forever relationship just wasn’t in the cards for me, so I had to be content with making the successful love connections for others that I couldn’t make for myself.

  I enjoyed matchmaking. I’d taken my knack for finding romantic chemistry between others and paired it with science and logic to create Matched, a concierge-style service that coupled young, upwardly mobile professionals from all over the United States. I focused on that group because they were my peers, and I saw and felt the struggles they faced in finding compatible partners with whom they could spend their lives.

  Rafael had been of those young up-and-comings. He’d waltzed into my office as if he owned it, and from the moment he dropped himself into the chair in front of my desk, the sexy rising actor owned me. Everything about him was magnetic. Smooth olive skin, thick, wavy black hair, and that accent of his was a source of instant arousal. Initially, I didn’t want take him on, because he was starting to gain popularity, and I didn’t want celebrity clients. They were notoriously hard to please, but he was so damned charming I couldn’t say no. I developed a little crush on him, and it killed me to send him on dates with any of the women in my database of singles, but I was being paid to do a job, and silly crush aside, I intended to do it well.

  Rafael filled out a digital questionnaire I would use to assist in matching him. It asked questions some would find odd, given the context, such as how well they responded to sleep deprivation, if they liked pizza, even down to how often they thought was an appropriate number of times per week to vacuum the carpets. Those little nuances, however random, told much bigger stories about the compatibility between two people than they got credit for. The proprietary system I used, based on software algorithms I created myself, would take his results, and search the Matched database for suitable matches, then send those results straight to me. I would then use my own instincts to choose appropriate singles from the list of compatible potentials.

  But, I made the stupid, stupid, stupid mistake of opening Rafael’s matches in front of him.

  With my tablet in my lap, screen in full view, seeing my own smiling face tagged to the profile that was 94.28% compatible with Rafael shocked me into silence. When I dared to look at Rafael, seated right beside me, he was already staring at me with the sexy, superstar grin of his. He whispered something seductive to me in his native Portuguese tongue, and to this day, I think I must have blacked out, because the next thing I knew, I was pinned against the wall with my legs wrapped willingly around his waist, and he was inside of me. It was reckless, and stupid, and pretty far outside of character for me, but at that time in my life, I was ‘doing’ more than I was thinking.

  That one mistake— matching myself with a client— led to a secret six month long relationship, followed by a secret month long engagement, followed by a secret year long marriage, concluding in a secret divorce that took three months to finalize. When I was in the midst of it, I thought it made perfect sense to keep my relationship with the Rafael under wraps. He was a rising celebrity, and that brought media scrutiny that neither my business nor I needed. How was I supposed to know Rafael would continue sleeping his way around the world, using his ‘need’ to appear single as an excuse for his behavior?

  But that part of my life was over. Rafael had just been the final disaster in a lifelong pattern of ridiculously bad luck in love, and a lesson learned the hard way. I would not be making that same mistake again. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the gentle pressure of Avery’s hand against my back while it lasted.

  He spoke, breaking me out of my thoughts of regret. “So… you aren’t wearing a ring…”

  For a moment, I panicked, thinking he was asking me about Rafael, but the playful grin on his face told me he was flirting. My lack of a ring announced that I was possibly single, something he could use as an entry point. I pushed out a deep breath, relieved that both of my little secrets were still safe. I’d never worn a ring, due to the clandestine nature of the relationship, but there were a few people — my immediate family and two good friends, one of those being Des— who knew about my marriage. Des was the only one who didn’t know about the divorce.

  “Very observant of you,” I replied, tucking away my moment of panic. “But…. what does my lack of a ring have to do with you?”

  We came to a stop just outside the door to Desiree’s dressing room, where I could hear her fussing loudly at someone, presumably her cousin Deidra, who was her only bridesmaid. Avery brought his hand around to rest on my waist as he faced me. “It could have a lot to do with me, Tori. I could see us being really good … friends.”

  “Friends, huh?” Well, at least he was straightforward. Laughing, I pressed my weight into the wall behind me. “I don’t think I’m interested in being the same kind of ‘friends’ you want to be, Avery.”

  “You sound really sure about that, but I’ve been known to change minds.” With one hand still at my waist, he pressed the other palm into the wall beside me, effectively pinning me in place. Damn, he smelled good. Damn, he was wearing his suit well.

  I shook my head. “That won’t be happening in this case.”

  “You haven’t heard me out.”

  “I don’t need to hear you out, because my final answer is no.”

  “Even if I guaranteed you would have a very enjoyable time as my friend?”

  I laughed, dropping my gaze to the lily pinned to his lapel. “You could promise me five good times, and the answer would still be no.” When I dared to look up, my eyes snagged on that magnetic gaze of his, and I was so enthralled I didn’t realize the door had opened beside us, and Deidra had stepped out.

  “Avery, leave her alone! Don’t you have something better to do than harass the bridal party?”

  I startled, and with a teasing wink, he stepped back, giving me room to step away and take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. I tried to keep my expression neutral, knowing Deidra was looking right at me, but my skin was flushed, and on fire from that short interaction. Without looking back, I told Avery over my shoulder that I would see him at the wedding, and entered the room to find Des pacing.

  “Tori! Oh thank God, I was getting worried about you! Where were you?” Des asked, stopping in front of me to grab my hands.

  “I just stepped out to get some air, Des. I’m ok.”

  Behind me, Deidra snorted as she approached. “I found her in the hall, cuddled up with Avery…”

  “With Avery?” Desiree’s eyes widened. “Tori, seriously, no. Avery is…”

  “— An asshole?” Deidra interjected, earning a scathing look from Des.

  “He’s not an asshole, Dei, don’t say that. Avery is just… he can be… Okay, it’s like this—”

  “Des!” I shook my head, sending a withering glare of my own in Deidra’s direction. “I was not cuddled up in the hall with your brother, I just met him. I have no idea why Deidra is getting you all riled up.”

  “I
’m just telling what I saw,” Deidra said in an innocent voice, turning to check her makeup in the mirror. I caught her reflection in the mirror to make sure she could see me rolling my eyes at her. I liked Deidra well enough, — most of the time— but damn, the girl told Des everything she saw, and it usually wasn’t even the most accurate account. Deidra knew her cousin had a tendency towards worst-case scenario style dramatics, but she fancied herself Des’ sidekick, so I guess she had to observe and report accordingly.

  Des entwined my fingers with hers to pull me off to the side, away from Deidra. When we were out of earshot, she squeezed my hand. “Tee, I know things are rough right now with you and Rafael, but if you’re gonna have a fling, trust me, my brother is not the one to have it with.”

  I had to remind myself that this was her wedding day so I wouldn’t roll my eyes at her as well. “Well, I wasn’t planning to, but what’s so wrong with Avery? He seems charming— a lot more than I expected.”

  Rolling her eyes, Des lifted her hands to my updo to fix a few loose strands. “Duh, Tori. You’re a beautiful woman; of course he was nice to you. I’m just glad you’re married now, and I don’t have to watch you around him.”

  Watch me around him?

  Des had been making little comments like that for the last year or so, and it was more than getting on my damned nerves. Ever since she’d gotten with Drew, it was as if she was suddenly the relationship expert, never mind that her dating history was more pitiful than mine was.

  I pushed her hands away. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I don’t have to worry about you getting involved with him. Avery is a good guy most of the time, but when it comes to women, I’ve seen him be downright mean, and I don’t want that to happen to you, because I would have to kill him.”

  “Mean?” I had to ask, because Des was a sensitive girl.

  Des shrugged. “Well, maybe not mean, but like he just doesn’t care that much. Avery turns the charm all the way up to get these women into his bed, keeps them around for a few weeks, then he acts as if they don’t exist. We’ve been out to dinner before, and a girl he dated came up to talk to him and he just blew her off. I wanted to stab him with a fork for being so rude to her, so imagine if that had been you. So yeah, like I said, glad you’re married.”

 

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