The Matchmaker's Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 2)

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The Matchmaker's Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 2) Page 13

by Maria Hoagland


  He caught her again, moving to the music. “I hate to say I told you so about Elton . . .”

  “No, you’re not.” She’d been wrong; that was true. She focused on the beat and the dance steps. “Thanks for cheering Hattie up.”

  “Anytime.” Falling in love looked good on Grant; he practically beamed. “I enjoyed dancing with her. She’s quite funny in an understated way. The kind of person you don’t take notice of until someone convinces you you should. But now, I can see why you spend so much time with her. She’s pretty great.”

  Emily looked over Grant’s shoulder rather than straight into his eyes. “Yes, she is.”

  The conversation ended with the song, and they finished the dance. As the quartet started to pack up, they made their rounds saying their farewells. Then, with as tired as Emily’s dad was, Grant hurried them out to a limo, and Emily’s perfect fantasy, her first Regency ball, was over.

  14

  The morning after the Regency ball, Grant woke up with what he could only describe as an emotional hangover. He’d enjoyed the ball more than he’d expected to. Getting to know the other Mountain Cove residents had rewarded him with potential friendships and handy connections. Stress he’d been hiding over running into old acquaintances from his teenage years ended up being energy wasted; to the Eureka Springs residents, bygones were truly bygones.

  By most accounts, the Regency ball had been a success for him—except when it came to the original intent. He still had no idea what was going on in his love life. On that score, all the ball had done was confuse him even more. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Emily he’d met his match, but being with her was more complicated than knowing who she was.

  He sat on his patio, feet up on a chair across from him, absently staring at the morning sunlight on the lake when the door opened behind him. Seeing it was his cousin, he gave her a head bob and invited her to sit down.

  “What do I do, Annalise?” He threw his hands up and let them drop to his lap.

  She sat down, a glass of orange juice in hand. “You’re going to have to give me more to go on than that.” She was dressed in sweats with her hair in a messy bun, and still looked more put-together than he felt.

  He blew his breath out and leaned his head back on the chair. How much did he want to say? He couldn’t think of a single time either of them had bared their souls to each other. Their familial relationships had improved greatly since they were children, but they also kept things on a professional level most of the time. Was this the time to start becoming friends? “About Emily.”

  “Are you asking me to answer as your employee or your cousin? Or more importantly, are you asking about the matchmaker or . . . ?”

  “My friend?” he supplied.

  Annalise took a sip of her juice. “See, that’s the thing. That’s not the word I was going to use.”

  Annalise didn’t know about Freddy’s Diner or the details of his conversations with Emily, though she was aware of the sparring and shooting. When they’d talked about the matchmaking, he’d purposely avoided any mention of this growing confusion.

  “How did things get so messed up? Why does it feel so . . . strained? I guess it was inevitable when we went beyond matchmaker to renewing our friendship.”

  And now? Was there a hint of something more? He didn’t want to think about it too much, didn’t want to overanalyze his feelings. He enjoyed being with Emily, despite their misunderstandings and the push/pull of power that seemed to define them. She pushed him one direction, toward someone she thought he’d be good with, and he pulled the opposite way. Eventually, this tug-of-war would pull them apart as it had at Freddy’s that day. He seriously needed a guy friend to talk to about all this, but somehow Mr. Wood didn’t seem like the right fit for this conversation.

  “Grant, I don’t think you’re asking yourself the important question. You can’t go back to where you were; you can only go forward. The question now is, how do you want to fix it? What do you want to see in your future?”

  “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes, soaking up the early-morning vitamin D, and then opened them again. “I see how happy she is with Finn and I don’t want to butt in, you know, especially when she keeps bringing up other women for me.”

  “You did hire her to be your matchmaker—”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “—and as your personal assistant, I actually came out here this morning to relay a message. Construction on the escape mansion is complete, and they’re moving up the grand opening. They want to have the media premiere in three weeks.”

  Interesting. Maybe the new deadline would get him off the hook. “Impossible.” Why was it he needed a date again?

  “Last night before she left, Emily said she wanted a post-ball debriefing, right?” Annalise raised an eyebrow at him.

  The last thing he wanted to do was get told off for not dancing more with any of the dozen women Emily had planted for him.

  Annalise continued, “Take advantage of it. Find someplace without distractions and see where the conversation takes you. You never know unless you try.”

  Grant gritted his teeth. Why did she have to be right? “I’ll think about it.” He wouldn’t give Annalise any more satisfaction than that, but already his mind was spinning through various ideas. If he were to take Emily on a date that she didn’t know was a date, where should that be?

  * * *

  Roughly twelve hours later, Grant picked Emily up. The supermoon shone through the car’s sunroof, casting a soft glow on the two of them.

  A couple of minutes into the drive, Emily turned sideways in her seat, looping her arm around her headrest. “Where are we going again?”

  She stared him down, but he refused to take the bait. Driving at night was too challenging with all the curves in the road, and he wouldn’t turn to look at her, not when there was a risk of getting lost in those deep green eyes.

  “What do you mean, again? I never told you the first time.”

  As a lifelong Eurekan, she would recognize it soon enough. Thorncrown Chapel, all modern angles and glass windows, was known worldwide, but his hope was that tonight would be different from any other time she’d been there. Through the right connections and a couple of promised favors in return, he’d finagled a private visit for the evening.

  “O-kay . . .” She dragged it out as if he were going to fill in the blank. He wasn’t. “Where are we going?”

  “The ball went well, don’t you think?” His change of subject would get the point across. He wouldn’t spoil the surprise. “Were you pleased?” What he expected was a bubble of excitement; what he got was silence. “Em?” He allowed himself a moment’s look in her direction and wished it could have been longer. Since it couldn’t be, he reached out and placed a hand on her knee. “You okay?”

  He felt her sigh as much as heard it. “I think I’m still in shock.”

  She had to know where they were now if she’d paid any attention when he took the turnoff. The chapel and grounds were the only things up this road.

  She’d paused too long. “In shock?” He didn’t want to pry if she didn’t want to talk, but she’d brought it up. It would be insensitive of him not to follow up.

  “I feel awful. I had no idea.” She sounded miserable. “I never would have tried to set Hattie up with him if I’d known . . .”

  Grant pulled into the empty parking lot and chose a spot near the path. After putting the car in park, he faced her. Starting the evening off on such a low note wasn’t a good omen, but her feelings were more important than the pseudo-date he’d planned. Now if it had been a real one— No, he still would have felt the same. “Your heart was in the right place, Emily. Anyone can see that.”

  “Hattie was devastated.” She yanked on the door handle and shoved the door open with her shoulder.

  He climbed out of the car on his side and rushed around to join her. “For what it’s worth, Hattie doesn’t blame you.” Hattie had said as much during
their conversation when they’d danced.

  “That makes it harder in some ways. She’ll internalize it, think there’s something wrong with her when Elton’s the one who’s a creep.”

  Grant wasn’t sure that was fair either, though it had been a jerk move. “She seemed fine when I danced with her. She joked and smiled, and talked about how wonderful you are.” Grant started down the flagstone path, and she kept in step with him. Under the April supermoon, the night sky was a beautiful indigo. The moon’s silver beams gilded the edges of every leaf, blade of grass, tree branch, and rock. He couldn’t think of anything more beautiful or romantic, and he wanted to reach out to grab Emily’s hand. But he didn’t. “Did she say she’s upset with you?”

  Emily’s shoulders, already curved slightly downward, rose and fell with her deep breath. “No.” She stopped walking and looked him in the eye. “You’re right. I’m obsessively worrying about her, but she will be okay. I saw how she was after she and Martin broke up. She’ll get over this.” Emily took a cleansing breath, a more hopeful look on her face. “Thank you for taking care of her last night, and for helping me feel better now.” She took a couple of steps toward the chapel, this time with her eyes off the flagstone path. The moment she caught sight of what he’d brought her here to see, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Wow!”

  Now that was the awe he’d been hoping for. Ahead of them, Thorncrown Chapel sat nestled in the woods near the top of the Ozark Mountains, their own private piece of gloriousness. Basically all glass held together with strips of metal and wood, the chapel was lit from the inside, a peaked rectangle of glowing gold in a setting of sapphire.

  “It’s so beautiful, Grant. I’ve never seen it like this.”

  They stepped forward to open the tall, heavy doors. Rising forty-eight feet into the air, the building had a strange way of making a person feel small.

  “Why are we here again?” As if coming out of a trance, Emily looked at him. Her eyebrows pulled together, causing two lines to form between them.

  “There you go with the ‘again’ again,” Grant teased. “I never said. But because you asked— Tonight is the supermoon, and I couldn’t think of a better place to watch it. Also, you wanted to chew me out for not dancing more.”

  Emily smirked at him. “You can make it up to me by dancing with me in the moonlight.”

  Her perfect teeth, her radiant skin and button nose, and her dark eyelashes did crazy things to his insides, but he narrowed his eyes at her, working hard not to smile. “I just might do that,” he said.

  When they stepped over the threshold, the electric lights went out—something Grant had prearranged—and Emily gasped and grabbed his hand. It only took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the moonlight overhead. Near the front of the sanctuary, a blanket, throw pillows, and a basket of food waited, surrounded by flickering candles. Next to the front window sat a large telescope.

  Grant’s heart pounded like an earthquake in his chest. Doing something this romantic with a friend was going out on a limb, but so far, she acted like it was noon and they were sightseeing with a bunch of tourists. She had her thumbs hooked in her pockets, looking up through the glass ceiling, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Nothing in her body language said she was nervous or excited or interested. She looked relaxed and content. Good enough. At least he hadn’t freaked her out. “What do you know about telescopes?”

  She reached out to touch it. “About as much as I know about supermoons,” she said dryly. “I’m going to hazard a guess and say that with the name and what I can see with my own two eyes—” She laughed lightly. “—the moon is bigger than usual?” She made it a question but didn’t wait for an answer. “So I’m assuming if we point the telescope at the moon, maybe we’ll be able to see those shadowy parts a little closer?”

  Grant laughed and took the caps off either end of the scope. “My guess too. Though I do happen to know that a supermoon appears fourteen percent larger and thirty percent brighter than other full moons.” He gave a sheepish look. “I asked Alexa while I was driving over to get you.”

  “And did Alexa set all this up for you too?” Emily waved her hand over the blanket and goodies.

  “Close.” He paused a beat and then admitted it was his real, live personal assistant. “Annalise. Same thing. Though I have no idea who she sent out here to do it.”

  Emily nodded and crossed her arms. Maybe Grant had miscalculated and this was a little too romantic for the two of them. His hopes sank like a setting moon.

  “Does the Cruise Donnelly Escape Room plan to franchise in Eureka Springs?”

  Grant fiddled with adjustments on the telescope, but saw nothing too interesting yet. “Wasn’t planning to. There’s already an escape room in town I don’t want to put out of business.”

  “Good point.” Her tone was flat. Did she disapprove?

  “Better not let the business community know the chamber of commerce’s executive director didn’t have their best interests at heart.”

  “I do.” She squirmed. “But I’m also supposed to be convincing new businesses to come in.” She shrugged, a frown still tugging at her lips. “You’re right, of course, but I was hoping to go through one.”

  Interesting. He could do something about that. “I think you have a thing for Cruise.” He narrowed his eyes. “Am I getting in the way? Because I can back out and you two can be alone,” he teased, and he made a move to walk away.

  She grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave—” she begged.

  He started to feel better. She wanted him.

  “—you’re my best connection to him.”

  “Hey!” He turned away, but she grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the cushions on the floor. He threw his hands up, as if there was nothing he could do. “I guess it’s true what they say about book boyfriends, then.” He shook his head. “There’s no competing with them.”

  She touched the back of her hand to her forehead and feigned swooning.

  “I get it, I do,” he said. “Cruise love is where I make half my money.” The number might be on the conservative side. “Fantasy is always better than reality.” Like Finn Weston. Grant was convinced Emily hadn’t noticed that Finn and Jaden arrived about the same time—and much later than anyone else. His suspicion was that they’d arrived together, meaning wherever they’d been before the ball was probably together as well. But why would they hide a relationship?

  What if Emily wasn’t the only one taken in by Finn’s charm and charisma? Part of him really wanted to bring it to Emily’s attention. Didn’t he have a duty as a friend to warn her if it helped her avoid a broken heart? But saying something felt cruel, especially as he had no real proof. He had to trust she knew how to protect her own heart.

  Grant needed to change the subject. “Speaking of Cruise—” He liked that he could talk about the character as if he were a real person—because he was to him, and apparently, he was to Emily as well. “I have news.” He reached for a bottle of sparkling peach seltzer and poured two glasses. He handed her one and took a sip before explaining his latest predicament. “I got word from my agent that they’re moving up the launch date.”

  “How soon do you need your match, then?”

  “Three weeks.” It was crazy. There was no way she could find his true love by then. Settling for someone he could spend the long flights with—twice—was too tall an order. He’d begged Annalise to let him off the hook, but she wasn’t the only one who’d invested in this scheme so far. “Forget the match. It’s too much pressure. How about a date?”

  Emily startled, her back turning stick straight and her head snapping to him. She lowered her glass. “Me?” She giggled nervously, her face blushing furiously, and then shook her head. “Sorry, I misunderstood.” She licked her lips.

  Grant’s heart took off in his chest. He hadn’t made that up, right? Emily had thought he was asking her out, and she was excited about it. He almost couldn’t breathe.

  “Never mind,” s
he rushed on. “What you were saying was not to worry about a match but to find you a date for the event instead, is that right?” She nodded, completely composed again. “I can do that. But do me a favor—don’t give up on the match idea just yet. Don’t give up on me just yet. I may not be the quickest matchmaker, but I will find you the right one.”

  Grant searched her eyes. I’ve already found her. He was just waiting for her to figure out who he’d chosen. “I hope so.” Until then, he would do his best to show her. Now that she’d given him hope, he’d find the right time to ask her out for real.

  He peeked into the picnic basket and gave her a mischievous smile. “What would be your favorite dessert to go with your favorite drink?” He nodded his chin toward the peach seltzer. Did she remember that from their algebra notebook conversations?

  “Chocolate layer torte cake.”

  He pulled out two chilled plates of perfection, and her eyes widened. His chest warmed at her surprised appreciation. They ate chocolate cake under a full moon surrounded by candles, happy memories, comfortable conversation, and the hope of something starting. Who could wish for more?

  15

  The workday was half over before Hattie showed up, and to be honest, she wasn’t on Emily’s happy list at the moment. At 9:30 A.M., with no word from her coworker, Emily called to make sure she was okay, but it went straight to voicemail. By 10, she was worried, and she shot over a text. For a moment, three dots indicated that she was texting back, but they disappeared as quickly as they’d come. Fifteen minutes later, Emily threatened to show up on her doorstep if Hattie didn’t tell her what was going on.

  I’m fine, a text finally said. Can I come in after lunch?

  Begrudgingly, Emily accepted.

  That didn’t mean she was thrilled when Hattie waltzed through the door at 1:30 in the afternoon. Especially when an influx of tourists interrupted an important call and Hattie wasn’t there to direct them.

 

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