Miss Match

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Miss Match Page 22

by Laurelin McGee


  Her spasms hadn’t yet subsided when he joined her—pounding out his climax with each syllable of her name. Finally he collapsed beside her and neither of them said a word as they panted in unison and their heart rates returned to normal. Moments passed in the silence.

  Then Andy began to fret. Would it get all awkward now? Should she go home? He had invited her to stay, but now they were barely touching and it was only at the shoulder so did that even count?

  Her worry was all in vain, though, because before she had to make a decision about what to do next, Blake wrapped an arm around her and tugged her to him. He kissed and nuzzled at her neck before tucking her into the crook of his arm.

  “Wow,” he said. “That was…”

  “Amazing, incredible, fantastic.” She could keep going with a whole list of adjectives if her brain cells weren’t numb from having been thoroughly fucked.

  “I was going to say everything.” He tilted her chin to meet his eyes. “That was everything, Andrea. Thank you.”

  She nodded. Yes, that’s what it had been, she thought, too overcome to agree verbally. It had been absolutely everything.

  They lay tangled together, Blake stroking her arm, Andy caressing his chest, for a long while. Though they were silent, it was comfortable. Easy. Perfect.

  A clicking noise broke through the quiet, coming from the direction of the TV set across from the bed.

  Because it seemed time to say something, Andy asked, “What was that?”

  Blake glanced toward the sound. “Just the DVR starting.”

  She stretched. “Oh. What are you recording?” Probably some boring documentary on the History Channel. No, Military Channel was probably more fitting for his business style.

  “Nothing.” Wait—what?

  She adjusted so she could see his face. “What do you mean nothing? It’s obviously something. What is it?”

  His silence combined with his pained expression led her to pry. “Why won’t you tell me?” She narrowed her eyes. “Is it porn?” It had to be porn. In which case, she kind of wanted to turn it on and see what kind of sex Blake was into, though she was pretty sure she already knew, what with all their recent activity and such.

  But he protested. “No. It’s not porn.”

  And her interest was piqued even further. “What is it, then?”

  The tight line of his mouth said he wasn’t spilling. But she’d already spied the remote on the nightstand next to her so, in a flash, she rolled over and flicked the ON button.

  “No!” Blake shouted as he realized what she was doing. He wrestled her for the remote, the renewed physical contact almost distracting her completely from the DVR. Except the sweeping music captured her attention, and when she looked up she saw a picturesque landscape and a beautiful English manor filling the television screen.

  She was stunned. “Downton Abbey?”

  With a gaping jaw, she returned her gaze to Blake, who was definitely blushing.

  Then she couldn’t help it—she broke into peals of laughter. “Blake Donovan,” she managed to get out with a howl, “watches Downton Abbey?”

  “Haha. Very funny.” Blake retrieved the remote from her laugh-limp hand, clicked OFF, and flung it to the floor. “Thank you for your support of my tastes.”

  His tone said she should drop it, but she couldn’t breathe. It was too freaking funny.

  “Shall I pour you some more tea? Shall we have a crumpet as we watch? Where are my pearls?” Her British dialect was awful, but she wasn’t going to stop.

  “Keep this up and I’ll give you something to laugh about,” Blake challenged.

  And because she couldn’t stop, he started to tickle her. It was too much. Her peals escalated to hysterics. Tears formed at her eyes, and she had to grab her sides to both ease the ache and fend off her attacker. She couldn’t even speak enough to ask him to stop.

  With a sigh, Blake gave up his torture. “I’ll wait.”

  It took a bit for her to calm. Then, sensing Blake needed reassurance or an apology or both, Andy pushed up to take his mouth in a sensual kiss. By the time she released him, they were both breathless.

  She sat back and tapped him on the tip of his nose. “Do you know how many women you could score if they knew you watched Downton Abbey?”

  He captured her finger in his mouth and sucked. “You mean that’s what I should have used as my initial proposition to you?”

  “No, not me. But other women. Chicks dig a sensitive core, you know.” That sucking thing could have gotten her naked in a heartbeat, though. Sensitive core there, too.

  “Not a fan, huh?” He sounded the slightest bit disappointed.

  She settled back into his arms, her head on his chest. “I don’t know. I’ve never watched it.”

  Blake kissed her head. “Ah, that will have to be remedied in the future.”

  The future. Was it totally reaching to grab onto that word as proof that their relationship would be different from now on? Proof that they had a future? She didn’t think so. And for that, she was telling the truth when she said, “I honestly can’t wait.”

  They sank back in their silence, Blake stroking his fingers up and down Andy’s arm. After a few minutes, he said, “How did you end up in my life, Andrea ‘sounds-like-Princess-Leia’ Dawson?”

  She’d actually been reflecting on just that very thing. “You posted a job opening and my sister set up an interview.”

  “Uh-uh. Too vague. Why were you even looking at jobs like the one I had posted?”

  She drummed her fingers on his chest as she considered how to answer. “When I quit working for Max Ellis, I didn’t leave on good terms. In fact, I left on very, very bad terms. Terms that pretty much ended my chances of finding a decent job afterward.” She poked him playfully in the ribs. “So I was forced to take what I could get.”

  “Cute.” He shifted her to the pillow next to him so that they were face-to-face. “But that’s not cutting it. Tell me the terms. What happened?”

  “Well…” She couldn’t believe she was about to admit the truth. Though, lying naked with Blake, no covers on them even, it didn’t seem as big a deal as it usually did. “Okay. The last year I was with Max, he got more and more … touchy … so to speak. Finally he out-and-out propositioned me.”

  “For sex?”

  She nodded. “When I said no, he fired me. I could have won a lawsuit against him, I’m sure, if I’d had my head about me. But when he fired me, I couldn’t help myself, I got so mad that I had to do something immediate. So I, um, burned a bunch of his employee files. I mean, like, a bunch.” She kept her eyes down, unable to meet Blake’s gaze. “He was the one who sued me. And he won, not surprisingly, which cost me all my savings and the little condo I owned. And my car. And the tennis bracelet I’d bought myself. Basically, he left me destitute and dependent on my sister. Pretty pathetic, I know.”

  “But you didn’t sleep with him?”

  She propped her head up with her elbow and met his gaze. “Is that all you can think about after that story?”

  “No. I’m also wondering how I managed to have my office remain undestroyed after my own proposition.” His grin suggested that he was half kidding.

  But she knew Blake—or she was beginning to know him—and so she was sure he was also half serious.

  “I wouldn’t say it remained undestroyed.” She winked at him. “There was the broken wingback.”

  “I’ve never been so happy to lose a piece of furniture.” He cupped his hand behind her neck and brought her in for a brief kiss.

  She shivered at his words as much from his kiss. Misreading her goose bumps, Blake suggested they get under the covers. When they were bundled up and she was snug in his arms again, their conversation resumed.

  “Do you have any regrets?” he asked.

  “About the wingback? No.” None at all. “About Max Ellis? Yes. Lots of regrets.”

  “Such as?”

  “I shouldn’t have burned his files, but I
really don’t feel all that bad about that. That was every single bit of work I had done, for my entire career. Just because I learned what I did in kind of sketchy ways doesn’t mean I hadn’t worked really hard. Eight years of hard-core applied psych, that he was going to keep, and try and do me on top of. Burning it felt cathartic. If his lawsuit hadn’t cost me so much, I wouldn’t feel bad at all.”

  She pulled out of Blake’s embrace and sat up against the headboard. Though she’d thought about this a lot over the last year, she’d never said any of it aloud. “Mostly, I regret the person he trained me to be. He taught me to seek out weaknesses in employees that would prevent them from doing well at his company. And I was good at that. Good at cutting people down and ignoring the best parts of them.” It didn’t paint the prettiest picture, she knew, and she was somewhat embarrassed to admit it.

  When she glanced at Blake, though, there was only compassion and interest written in his expression. It encouraged her to go on. “But I realize now that you can’t always judge a person’s potential by their profile. It’s a nice idea, but not very practical. And if you base a whole life or business on that thinking, you’ll likely miss out on some truly amazing people.”

  Andy let her words replay in her head. Though she’d been talking about her job with Ellis, she could just as easily have been talking about the one with Blake. She couldn’t set up a match for him because profiles didn’t contain the whole of a person. There was no way they could. So she could find a woman with the right eyes, the right social background, the right goals and ambitions, but how would that ever be an indication of chemistry or emotional compatibility?

  The same lesson could be applied to her initial impression of Blake. Hadn’t she judged him by his “profile”? She’d decided what kind of a man he was—arrogant, self-centered, inflexible. Time together had taught her that he was so much more than that. If she hadn’t been forced into his company, she’d never have given him a second look. And that would have been the biggest regret of her life.

  Blake shifted so he was sitting up next to her. “Yes. I believe you may be right.” He cocked his head. “So if you’ve lost your faith in the profile method, why is it again that you’re working for me?”

  She weighed her options for a moment—she could come out and tell him that her job was ridiculous, that he should fire her immediately and then date her earnestly.

  But even though it was possible he felt the same, she wasn’t willing to risk ruining their beautiful night. Not yet. So she gave a safer answer: “Because you begged me to.”

  He chuckled. “I guess I did.”

  “Like a desperate man.” She sandwiched one of his hands between both of hers, admiring how small hers were next to his. How strong his were. “It’s comical, actually. Blake Donovan, desperate?”

  “Hey, I was desperate.” He pulled her hand that was closest to him into his lap and began massaging it. “I’d tried other methods of finding potential dates. Let’s just say I had my own burned-bridges sort of situation.”

  “You must tell me more.” Also, he really must keep doing that to her hand. It felt amazing.

  “Must I really? It’s embarrassing.”

  “Tell me. I won’t laugh.” She paused. “Or, I’ll laugh, but it will be in good fun.”

  His focus on his hand massage, he asked, “Have you heard of Millionaire Matches?”

  Andy nodded. Who hadn’t? It was the only matchmaking company that actually had any proven results. It also had a lot of notoriety since the men and women who paid for the service were generally wealthy. Many of their more notable matches made the gossip columns.

  “Well, I was signed with them.” Blake worked the sensitive area between her thumb and index finger. “Until I got blackballed.”

  Andy’s jaw dropped. “What did you do? Did you accuse your personal matchmaker of having man-calves?”

  “Worse.” Sheepishly he met her gaze. “I slept with the CEO.”

  Her hand flew from his lap to her mouth. “Oh, my God.” She was struck that along with being appalled, she was also rather jealous. Though she knew it wasn’t reasonable, she hated the idea of Blake sleeping with other women. Even when it had occurred before he’d met her.

  Blake scratched the back of his neck. “When I refused a repeat performance, she blackballed me. Then she told the other matchmaking companies in the area that I was a bad risk. That I was only using the program for easy sex.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “You do have a reputation of sleeping with your dates, Blake. Or, I mean, not sleeping with your dates.” She sounded terse, and she knew it. Well, too bad. She felt terse.

  “Andy…” He trailed off, and she braced herself for whatever horrible thing he was going to say next. If he had to preface it by calling her that, it couldn’t be good. “I never slept with any of the dates you set me up with.”

  “Of course you did,” she scoffed. Not this again. So much for not ruining the night.

  Blake took her chin and turned her head until her eyes locked with his. “No, I didn’t. Not a one.”

  She was about to protest once more, but when she really studied his face she found that his expression was earnest and sincere. He wasn’t lying. There was no way he could look at her like that and not be telling the truth.

  “Oh,” she said, finally accepting it. “Then why didn’t you want to see any of them again?”

  “Maybe your profile theory is spot-on. They looked good on paper, but in person they weren’t what I was looking for.” He brought a hand up to her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Or maybe I wasn’t ever looking for what I really wanted.”

  Andy could hear her heartbeat in her ears. The tone of his voice, the softness of his touch, the way he was gazing into her eyes—she had this gut feeling that if she asked him what he was really looking for, there was a good chance he’d say her. She knew it as surely as she had ever known anything. She willed herself to press him, to bring the moment to a head. As long as they were confessing, they could confess this, too.

  But before she got the nerve, he threw his own question at her. “What are you looking for, Andy?”

  You. Here was her chance. She opened her mouth, but the word didn’t come.

  “I mean…” He dropped his hand from her cheek. “Now that you’ve decided Max Ellis wasn’t the place for you, and you’ve always been vocal about how beneath you matchmaking is—I tend to agree, by the way—what would you like to be doing with your life?”

  Good thing she’d been silent. How humiliated would she have been if she’d answered that she was looking for him when he was asking about her career goals. Maybe she was misreading his cues. Or maybe he was dancing around the subject as much as she was.

  Not knowing which it was, the only thing she could do was ride the conversation as best she could. So she pondered his question sincerely. What did she want to do with her life?

  She had no clue.

  Even if Blake was part of her future, she sure didn’t want to be a housewife. But that was about all she was sure of. “I really don’t know, Blake. Is that sad? Maybe I’d go back to school if I could afford it. Honestly, I like the rhythm of going into an office every day. I hadn’t realized that before. Working at Donovan InfoTech has been a much better experience than at Ellis’s where everyone hated me all the time.”

  Instead of mocking her response, he nodded. “Something potentially in an office then?”

  “Yes.” She chuckled at her lame lack of ambition. “Pretty vague, isn’t it?”

  “Work for me, Andrea.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I do work for you.” The urge to address that very issue tugged at her once again.

  “I mean after this. In the future.” He grabbed his hand in hers and squeezed. “Work for me.”

  She studied him. He was serious. Which was ridiculous. “What on earth would I do?”

  “There are so many things I could use your skills for.” He sounded excited about
the prospect. Like a kid in a candy store. Or like Blake in his playroom. “You could work in HR.”

  Her spirits sank. Hadn’t he heard her earlier? She was disgusted with her old self. She couldn’t possibly do that again.

  She tried to remain polite with her refusal. “Thank you, really. But I don’t want to do what I did for Max—”

  Blake cut her off. “Not like that. I can use your skills for good. To bring out the potential in employees rather than as something to hold over their heads. We take pride in hiring the best and brightest, but it’s hard to identify special skills that could benefit other departments or positions. What do you say?”

  She chewed her lip. Using her skills for good was something else entirely. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before. Not in conjunction with Donovan InfoTech, necessarily, but in what she could potentially do for a corporation. How she could guide and direct the promise in skilled employees rather than cut them down and crucify them for their hidden weaknesses.

  “Come on,” Blake urged. “Say yes.”

  It was awfully tempting. However, she’d also learned working for Max that her impulsive decisions weren’t always the best. “Can I think about it?”

  “Yes. You may.” He grinned—that charming, sexy grin that had her curling her toes. “But you know how I get what I want in these situations.”

  She thought back to how he’d coerced her into working for him the first time. “That I do.”

  And finally, with all the times they’d skirted the subject, she couldn’t let it go any longer. She took a deep breath. “Blake … about that. About the matchmaking…” About us …

  He placed a single finger over her lips. “Shh.”

 

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