Matching Mr. Right (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 1)

by Baumann, Tamra

  Jo leaned closer to the screen. “He has skinny-dipping on his list?”

  “No.” Shelby laughed. “But I think we’ve just about covered every fifteen-year-old’s idea of the perfect woman.”

  “Good luck with this one.” Jo shook her head and handed the computer back. “Actually, if it weren’t for the tall part, and the big chest, Nick might just fall for you.” Jo batted her eyes, mimicking a proper Southern belle. “Shelby Marx, you’re just about the cutest tomboy God ever placed on this earth.”

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “I just hope your brother can forget that part and see me as a woman after all these years, not the girl they used to let play football with the boys after school.”

  Jo smiled sweetly and patted Shelby’s arm. “You were the fastest little wide receiver in the neighborhood, Shelby, and the only girl who ever wanted to play with those rough boys. That might be a little hard for Greg to forget. But I’ll put in a good word for you. I’d love to see you guys end up together because then we’d be real sisters, not just of the heart.” Jo gave her a shoulder bump. “’Nite, Tomboy.”

  “’Nite, Stick.” Letting out a long sigh, Shelby mumbled, “Please let Greg be the first to truly overlook the scars on my legs.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Always telling the truth is really hard to do, especially for Chester the monkey.”

  Liar, Liar, Chester’s Pants are on Fire

  Shelby glanced up from her laptop and scowled at Nick as he sauntered toward her across the busy café. The man was over an hour late and hadn’t even had the decency to call.

  He folded his long body onto the chair next to hers. Then he blessed her with one of his don’t-you-think-I’m-adorable smiles. “My meeting ran long and I’m starving. What’s good today?”

  Really? Not an “I’m sorry” or a “Hi how are you?”

  “Manners are selling well today. You should get a double helping. You could use them.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry I kept you waiting—”

  Shelby raised a finger and pointed to her Bluetooth earpiece before activating her mic. She was helping a client two tables away and the conversation had slowed.

  “Ask what she loves most about her best friend.” That got Randy’s date, a cute redhead, smiling and gushing, so Shelby sipped her skinny latte and called up Nick’s Facebook page on her computer.

  “I have something later this afternoon, so I’m going to try to help you and Randy at the same time. Let’s start with these bromance pictures of you and your buddies flinging yourselves off things attached to bungee cords and ropes. Oh, and let’s not forget the mandatory group photos afterward celebrating your braveness with red plastic cups filled with beer.”

  Nick leaned closer and threw his arm around the back of her chair.

  Man, he smelled good.

  “But that’s what I do.” He brushed his mouth against her ear and sent a quiver up her spine. “I’ve gotten lots of e-mails—with naked pictures attached—from these photos. Women like sweaty guys in tight shirts with all our muscles showing.”

  She leaned away, disgusted with herself for momentarily wanting to feel those big muscles too. “Unless you’ve got aspirations to be a Chippendale dancer—”

  “Dancing’s not my thing.”

  “Or a gigolo, we’re getting rid of some of these skin shots, pal.”

  “The gigolo I could do.” Nick grinned. “But you already told me you won’t be my pimp, so I’d have to find someone else if I went that route.”

  After Shelby sent him a long sideways look, he said, “Okay. Whatever you say, Dating Master.”

  She deleted most of the pictures and then added some of the professional headshots he’d provided. “Do you have any group family shots? That’d send a nice vibe.” And it’d be interesting to see if the rest of his family was as pretty as him.

  “I’m sure I could find some.” Nick checked his Rolex. “Really, what’s good to eat?”

  Shelby shushed him again so she could talk to Randy. “Ask her—”

  “If she prefers baths or showers,” Nick blurted out.

  “No, don’t!” Shelby jumped up and moved to the other side of the table. “Ask what her all-time favorite movie is.”

  Sitting safely across from Nick, Shelby sent Randy an apologetic smile. Satisfied the conversation was back on track, she said to Nick, “I’m guessing you’re a meat eater. The pulled pork’s amazing.”

  “Pulled pork it is.” Nick stood and weaved his big body through the tables. His suit, cut a little tighter than yesterday’s, showed off his big shoulders—and his rear end? Nice. He’d be a pretty decent gigolo at that.

  When Nick slapped Randy on the back, Shelby’s heart nearly stopped. Nick beamed a bright smile at her confused client. “Nice to see you, man.”

  What was he up to? Would he blow Randy’s cover?

  Shelby whispered, “Just go with it, Randy. His name’s Nick.” Then she hopped up to move Nick along before he could do any more damage.

  She stopped in her tracks when Nick introduced himself to Randy’s date and then proceeded to sing Randy’s praises.

  Shelby let out the breath she’d been holding in as Nick told Randy to call him, then excused himself and made his way toward the order counter.

  Sitting down again, she listened as Randy’s date said, “I have to get back to work, but this was fun. I’d really like to see you again—if you would?”

  The shy smile that lit Randy’s handsome face made Shelby’s day. And when he took the opportunity to nail down a time before she could prompt him to do so, it made her proud. He was finally getting the hang of it. Another check in the win box. Yes!

  Randy sent her a thumbs up behind his back as he walked his date out to her car.

  Leaning back in her chair, she yanked the Bluetooth from her ear as she contemplated Nick’s actions. Had he done that to be nice, or obnoxious? It might have been just the nudge Randy’s date needed. To think Randy was friends with a smooth talking, handsome guy like Nick.

  What the heck was Nick up to? He didn’t need her. He could have any woman he wanted.

  A southwestern grilled-chicken salad suddenly appeared before her along with a frosty glass of her favorite strawberry iced tea.

  Nick sat across from her and unloaded his lunch tray. He not only got the pulled pork sandwich and a pile of fat steak-cut fries, but chocolate-mousse pie and an éclair. How could he eat like that and still have all those bulging muscles instead of a pot-belly?

  Stop thinking about those pictures!

  “Thanks.” Digging her wallet from her purse she pulled out a ten wondering how he’d just happened to pick her favorite salad. “Lucky guess or are you a creepy stalker?”

  He waved her money away. “Since you appear to office here, I asked the lady at the counter if she knew what you liked best. She told me she’d take care of it. After paying your full fee last night, I might have taken your money, but I was afraid she’d tell you and then you’d think I was a jerk.”

  Too late—she knew he was a jerk. But a paying-client jerk, so she kept her yap shut.

  “Smart move. Jo and I have each other’s backs.”

  He nodded as he swiped a fat fry through a puddle of ketchup. “She mentioned you two go way back?”

  “Yup. We were neighbors growing up and then went to the same college.”

  “Have you found her a soul mate yet?”

  “Maybe it’s me.” Shelby batted her eyes at him.

  Nick sputtered into his Coke but quickly recovered. “Nope. You’re definitely into men.” He took another drink then laid his glass down, studying her intently. “So, have you found Jo the man of her dreams?”

  She took a bite of her salad, making him wait for her response. “She’s not in the market at the moment. She’s concentrating on this café.”

  Why were they sharing small talk? The man deserved payback for nearly giving her a heart attack. She shouldn’t do it, but like her favorite mischie
vous monkey, Chester, she couldn’t help herself. “But Jo often peruses magazine articles about relationships and dating. Just last night, she mentioned she’d read a survey of men who claimed brunettes were better in bed than blondes.” She smiled sweetly as she took a slug of iced tea. “Any thoughts on that, Mr. Caldwell?”

  His brows furrowed as he contemplated his answer. “Those quizzes are bogus, but because you’re a blonde and my momma drowned all the dumb kids in our family, no comment.”

  She laughed despite herself. “How many of those kids survived?”

  “I have two older sisters. You?”

  “I had a younger sister, but she died a long time ago.” A familiar arrow of pain stabbed at Shelby’s heart. She still missed Sarah like it was yesterday, not the twenty-two-years ago she’d lost her baby sister. And her parents too.

  Nick’s sandwich stopped halfway to his lips. “Sorry. My sisters can be a real pain in the ass sometimes . . . but mostly they make me glad they’re mine.”

  Glad they’re mine? Maybe Nick wasn’t a complete Neanderthal.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes until Shelby just couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. “Why did you stop by Randy’s table?”

  He shrugged. “Women have all the power in a first meet. They get to decide if you get a second chance. Never hurts to have a wingman.”

  “Hummm” was all she could manage. So he was being nice to Randy? A puzzle—no, a contradiction. That’s what Nick Caldwell was.

  He finished off his pie and then started on the éclair. After he had devoured every last crumb, he stood and threw a five on the table for a tip. “Ignore my questionnaire and set me up with a brunette. Probably should test out Jo’s theory.” He shot her a naughty grin then headed for the door.

  ***

  Nick glanced at his niece as they drove to the bookstore. He was no expert, but something was wrong. Her face was scrunched up and she kept rubbing her stomach. “You okay there, Princess? ’Cuz if there’s going to be ralphing involved I’d rather you didn’t do it in my Porsche.”

  Emily forced a smile. “I’m just excited.”

  “I’d be excited too, to meet my favorite author in the entire universe. That Chester dude’s fun. I like him.”

  Emily’s face brightened. “Me too!”

  “You sure you’re feeling okay?” He pulled into a parking space.

  “Yup.” Emily whipped off her seatbelt and opened the door.

  Nick helped her out and then held her hand as they crossed the parking lot. Emily’s pace was especially pokey, so he scooped her up into his arms. “Come on, lead feet. Let’s get us a Chester book.”

  When Emily tucked her head under his chin and closed her eyes, it confirmed it. The kid was sick. He turned back toward the car. “Maybe we’d better get that book some other time. When you’re feeling better.”

  Emily’s little head popped up and she wailed, “Noooo! I have to get the new Chester book! Pleeeease Uncle Nick?”

  “Okay, pipe down. So here’s what we’ll do. Pick up the book, get it signed, then get right back out. No messing around. Deal?” He held out his fist for a knuckle bump.

  Emily’s face lit up a fraction as she fist-bumped him. “Deal.”

  After he left his sister a voice mail telling her Em was sick and asking if he should take her to the doctor, Nick opened the door to the tiny bookstore.

  It was crowded and smelled of leather and dust.

  He withheld a curse at the long line ahead of them. Em was miserable. They needed to get the book as quick as possible. Craning his neck, he counted fifteen adults with at least one kid in tow waiting for an autograph.

  He needed a plan.

  When he spotted a harried looking mother with three kids, he considered playing on her maternal sympathies to get Emily a better place in line. But then he found their fast-track ticket.

  She was tall, blonde, dressed in designer clothes, talking on the phone, and ignoring her kid. Even better, her left hand, the one that held the phone, didn’t sport a wedding ring.

  Nick slid past the others in line and moved beside her. “Hi.”

  She glanced up, smiled, then hung up without saying goodbye. “Hello.” She glanced at his left hand splayed on Emily’s back, the one he’d purposely left there to display his own lack of wedding ring. “I’m Judith. And you are?”

  “Nick. And this is my niece, Emily.” He accepted Judith’s outstretched hand and shook it. Her hand was much larger and cooler than Shelby’s dainty one he’d held the day before. “I’ve got a problem. Em here’s not feeling so good. I don’t know if she’ll be able to wait out this long line.”

  Right on cue, Emily whimpered, “I can’t go until I get the new Chester book.” Em was good. He had to give it to her. They made a great team.

  Judith glanced down at the kid beside her. “I’m sure Samantha wouldn’t mind letting you cut in front of us. Especially if Emily isn’t feeling well.”

  The little girl, a miniature version of her mother in designer clothes, frowned. “Yes, I would. We’ve been waiting—”

  Judith nudged the kid with her elbow. “It’ll be fine. So, Nick.” She eyed his suit. “What kind of job allows you time to play hooky with your niece?”

  He figured he’d only have to keep up the small talk for about ten more minutes, and then they could get the heck out. Emily fell sound asleep and drooled on his shoulder as he talked with Miss Designer Shoes. When he glanced ahead to check their progress, his gaze landed on Shelby.

  She was author of the Chester books?

  By day she helped people find love, and by night she wrote kids’ books? Something about that seemed a little . . . strange. But intriguing.

  He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since he left her a few hours before. Too bad she was the white-picket-fence, kids-and-a-dog type, or he’d be tempted to tear up his contract and ask her out for real. But then his grandmother’s dying words, begging him to save Lori’s business, shut down that thought.

  Shelby glanced up and saw him, then her forehead crumpled in confusion. He lifted his hand in greeting.

  She sent him a deep frown before turning her attention back to the kid who stood in front of her. When Shelby smiled at the kid, her whole face lit up. She’d never smiled at him like that. Probably because he’d been acting like a jerk as he spied on her. He wanted to be her most challenging client, hopefully revealing all the tricks Shelby had in her toolbox.

  But, man, he was a sucker for a cute blonde with a great smile.

  ***

  Shelby forced her attention back to the sweet kid who stood before her. What was Nick doing and where did he get the kid who was asleep on his shoulder? His profile didn’t list any children, and the way the lady beside him smiled and flirted with him, it was obvious he needed no help whatsoever from her “little online service.” Maybe he really was a stalker. She’d have to ask Jo if she and Nick actually had that conversation about the salad at the café like he’d said.

  She signed a book and slid it back to the little girl named Lauren. “Thanks for coming to meet me today. I hope you like the story.”

  Lauren’s blue eyes twinkled with joy “I love everything Chester does. He’s the best. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Gotta love a kid with manners. After waving to Lauren’s mother, a new family moved in front of her.

  Nick was next after them. She could feel the warm sweep of his eyes on her as she signed two books for the cute twins standing before her named Lilly and Lindsey. Nick had a way of studying her, as if he could see deeply inside, searching for her heavily guarded secrets.

  It bugged.

  When it was Nick’s turn, she didn’t bother to greet him. Instead she cocked a brow and waited for his explanation. She ignored the flip her stomach made as he stood in front of her looking like sin on a stick. Her inner bad girl begged for just one lick.

  But Nick was a shallow, no-strings-attached kind of guy. The opposite of Gr
eg. The man she’d waited two years for.

  Nick beamed one of his big smiles. “Hello, Summer Sinclair. Seems you’re a woman of many hidden talents?”

  “You too.” She slid her gaze to the child asleep on Nick’s shoulder. “Seems you forgot to add single parent to your profile.”

  “This is my niece.” He nudged the sleeping girl on his shoulder. “Emily, wake up. Let’s get Shelby to sign your book.”

  The darling, curly-dark-haired girl yawned and blinked like a baby owl. “Who’s Shelby?” The girl’s cheeks were unnaturally red, as if flushed with fever.

  Alarmed, Shelby stood and reached across the table to lay the back of her hand on the child’s forehead. It burned under her touch. Nick had a very sick kid on his hands. Something like that had to cramp his style as he flirted with the obviously smitten woman behind him in line.

  Shelby tucked a clump of stray curls that had fallen across the little girl’s forehead behind her ear, exposing the same startling blue eyes as her irritating uncle’s. “Poor baby. You’re not feeling so good, huh?”

  Nick said, “Emily’s a huge fan and couldn’t be persuaded to stay home in bed where she belongs. Nice pen name by the way.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Kinda sexy.”

  That did it.

  She huffed out a breath and signed Emily’s book. She wanted Nick out of her face as quickly as possible. He was the epitome of the kind of man she usually avoided: all handsome, arrogant, and self-confident. Something her hormones were having trouble remembering they didn’t like. It’d probably be best if they didn’t work together.

  As she handed the book to Emily, she said, “It must be tough to have such a smarty-pants uncle, Emily. I hope you feel better soon.”

  Emily worked up a small giggle. “That’s what momma says about him too.”