I shrugged, trying to look humble. But humility wasn’t my strong suit.
She laughed. “Try not to gloat.”
“Who’s gloating? I’m just standing here.”
“Wearing an adorable, but gloating expression.”
“At least you have more confirmation. Any way you slice it, this woman is made for Knox.”
“As if we needed it.” Ash grabbed her phone.
“What are you doing now?”
“Calling Callie to make sure Knox was telling the truth that she agreed to go out with him if there were a match and I recommended it.”
“I hope you’re recommending it?”
“Absolutely.”
I took a step back and took a seat on the sofa. “You don’t mind if I listen in?”
“This is as much your victory as mine.”
“It’s ours,” I said. “Will you tell them they’re a perfect match?”
Her brow puckered. She looked almost torn. “That would be lovely. It sounds so romantic and kind. But you know our policy—we don’t give out match percentages. And for good reason. It can lead to too many problems—”
“Yeah, but one hundred percent?” I said. “What could go wrong with that? Perfect matches are rare, you tell me.”
“And can still fail and go through rough patches.” She raised an eyebrow and gave me an insider’s smile. “Especially if people get cocky and comfortable. Relationships need careful tending.”
“So no.” I was disappointed.
“Maybe someday. Like on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. After I’m convinced they have what it takes to make it work.”
“Time is no accurate measure. Many couples hang in there until the kids are grown and then call it quits.”
“Reassuring.”
“One more question,” I said. “Did you tell Knox that I found Callie for him?”
“Are you crazy?” She shivered for effect. “I didn’t want to put him off Callie. He has his pride. Let him figure it out for himself.”
“I’m not convinced he’s that smart.”
“You won’t give him points for anything,” she said. “I might tell him. Someday.”
“That twenty-fifth anniversary you mentioned?” I asked. “I’ll hold it in reserve in case I ever need leverage over him.”
“May I make my calls? Knox is in agony.”
“In agony?” I snorted. “Leaving him there a while longer doesn’t sound half bad to me.”
“That’s beneath you.” She rolled her eyes and called Callie.
I wish Ashley would have put the call on speakerphone, but she didn’t. I got enough listening to her end. She gave me a sly look as she told Callie what a rare match she and Knox were, without coming directly out and telling her they were a perfect match. After some discussion, Callie gave the go-ahead. Ashley hung up and called Knox without pausing to say anything to me. She beamed as she talked to him. Again, I was no longer jealous. I was happy for her and us, glad she could help an old friend who meant so much to her. And ecstatic that Ashley and I could enter into marriage without any barriers between us.
As for Knox, I could hear his excitement from across the room. No, that guy wasn’t going to be a problem anymore.
Ashley finished her call. She slid out of her chair, came over to me, and sat on my lap. She ran her fingers lightly through my hair. “I’m famished. What do you think about an early lunch?”
16
Callie
I wasn’t surprised to get a call from Ashley on Monday morning. I’d had a match date on Saturday night and one on Sunday. We needed a postmortem. Because I was new, a quick check call was in order before our official meeting. But it was my confrontation with Knox at the bridal fair that gave me the expectation.
“Knox explained the situation to me,” Ashley said. “He was candid about the requirements you gave him. For my part, you’re under no obligation to go out with him. I refuse to exert any pressure. But I have to be honest—I ran your profile against his. You two are an exceptionally close match. I rarely see couples who match as closely. But the choice is ultimately yours.”
“Yes,” I said without needing to think about it or be sold any further. I broke out into a huge grin. “Tell him I’ll be expecting his call.”
“Good,” she said with a smile in her voice. “Here’s his number so you’ll know it’s him calling.”
Knox
When my phone rang, I jumped, even though I’d been expecting the call. I couldn’t remember being this nervous, not even when heading into battle. Not when lives were on the line and my fellow soldiers were counting on me. Not this form of nervousness.
“Ashley.”
“Knox, you’re in luck,” Ashley said, putting me out of my agony without delay. “Once you listened to your heart and honestly filled out your dating profile, you came up a very close match to Ashley.”
I whooped and did a victory punch.
“I’m glad you’re so mellow about it.” Ashley laughed.
“Have you talked to Callie yet?”
“You’re in luck there, too. Callie is willing to give you a shot. Don’t blow it this time, Knox. I can’t have our spokesperson going out on a string of bad dates with anyone. Bad PR is a nightmare. You have one shot at this.”
I had no intention of blowing it.
Callie
My phone rang again just minutes after I talked to Ashley. A smile spread across my face when I saw the number—Knox. I shouldn’t have been so deliriously happy, but I was. “Knox. You worked fast. My phone is still warm from talking to Ashley.”
“With all those other guys after you, there was no time to waste. I don’t fool around.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. “I rather like fooling around.”
“Now you’re just tormenting me.”
I’d missed the sound of his deep, sexy voice. “Or flirting.”
“Is that what you call it?”
I laughed.
“You know the drill,” he said.
“Exactly. This is where you ask me out for coffee. Or if I’m really exceptional and you have high hopes, dinner.”
“Coffee is for blind dates,” he said. “So either party can escape quickly if there’s no chemistry.”
“Are you saying I’m dinner-worthy?”
“No, better, much better,” he said. “We were either in each other’s arms or looking longingly into each other’s eyes for the better part of three days. I saved your life. We’re past the awkward early stages and you’re exceptional. One in a million. In my opinion, you’re daytrip-worthy.”
“Daytrip-worthy? Wow. You think we can handle an entire day together?”
“I think we can handle more than that, but one step at a time. I’m playing by the rules.”
I was a little disappointed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to play by the rules.
“Let me show my home territory. Let me show you the island.”
“Bainbridge?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t been there in years—”
“Great. I’ll have a lot to show you. Pick a day, any day. Make it soon. Make it before the weekend. Before you have any more match dates. You aren’t close to any fifth dates, are you?”
I held in a laugh. He was adorable. “A lady never tells.”
“You know how to torment me. All right. I’ll play the game, but I’m playing it safe. I’m not taking any chances. When are you free?”
“Thursday’s good for me. I have the day off.”
“Fantastic. I’ll meet you in Seattle at the ferry terminal. We’ll take the ferry to Bainbridge. Dress casually.”
“How casually?”
“Enough to go for a walk on the beach.”
At sunset? I wondered.
There wasn’t much more to say, but we were both giddy. He wanted to know what kind of food I liked, though he’d had a glimpse of that during shooting. Neither of us wanted to hang up. We talked about nothing and
laughing nervously. After we finally did work up the will to hang up, I stared at my phone, smiling uncontrollably.
Ashley had a knack. All of the dates she’d sent me on had been good. Much better than the dates I’d found for myself. The men were successful, flattering, and looking to commit. They were even honest about what they wanted and who they were—from what I could tell, at least. They all also had two good hands. So I guessed having only one full hand wasn’t an area of compatibility after all, and gave them a hand up on Knox, literally. As handsome and charming as they were, none of them were Knox. None of them made me laugh like he did. Or made my heart race and my pulse quicken. Ashley’s confirmation and seal of approval were icing on the cake.
Callie
I met Knox in the Seattle ferry terminal on Thursday morning. He was sitting in one of the seats in the passenger waiting area. He stood when he saw me, looking as hot as I remembered and wearing an eager, apologetic look. As I waved to him, my heart raced.
I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him. Yeah, he’d done some crappy things by not telling me he was a Pair Us client in the first place. And not listening when I said my hookup days were behind me. But he was reformed now and had gone to great lengths to prove how committed he was about getting a date with me. A date that came with the Pair Us rules attached.
Now I just wanted to savor him and the moment and prove to myself the risk I was taking was worth it. As he opened his mouth to speak, I put a finger to his lips, took his face in my hands, closed my eyes, and pressed my lips to his, opening my mouth to him.
I had to see. I had to know. A physical reaction to a kiss can’t be faked. All that tantalizing and teasing through all those photoshoots. That kiss in the parking garage. Now, as my lips met his and my face was buried in his scent…shock waves. An explosion of senses. My nipples budded. I tingled all the way to my toes. My heart raced. I felt every nuance of his lips on mine as he cupped the back of my head and pulled me to him. I’d been dreaming about this all week. But even in my imagination, it hadn’t been this good.
I leaned into him. Yes, yes, yes. Sometimes a kiss wasn’t just a kiss. Sometimes it was much more. I pulled away suddenly, intent on keeping him off balance and making him mine.
“Wow.” His eyes were round and dark. “You look gorgeous. What did I do to deserve that?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just satisfying my curiosity.”
He frowned. “About what?”
“Whether kissing you again would be as thrilling as I imagined.”
“And?”
“You have to ask?”
He grinned and took my right hand in his robotically enhanced left hand. “So you’re saying it was a test?”
I shrugged. “If there was no chemistry today, no zing, there was no way I was going to get on that ferry with you and be trapped on an island with you for a whole day.”
“One low-chemistry kiss and I was done for? You would have walked out, leaving me to pick up a date at the ferry terminal or ride home alone?” He looked surprised, as if that possibility hadn’t occurred to him. But he was also teasing. “Even after I bought your ferry ticket? If I’d known there was doubt—”
“You would not.” I leaned into him. “You have too much confidence. I like confidence. If you’d failed, I would still have let you buy me a cup of coffee for your trouble.”
“Generous of you.”
I grinned. “Time is valuable. And in case you have any ideas, I can’t be bought. A ferry ticket”—I pursed my lips—“creates no sense of obligation in me.”
“You’re a hard woman.”
“Discriminating.”
We were suddenly surrounded by passengers disembarking from the incoming ferry. I’d been so lost in him that I hadn’t been watching for our ferry.
He pulled me back into him and kissed me again in the middle of the crowd.
Callie
If there was such a thing as a dream date, this was it. We rode across the sound on the front ferry deck, with the wind whipping our hair, cuddled together for warmth. It was a beautiful early summer day. But it was always cool on the water. Always. The water in Puget Sound is something like fifty-five degrees year-round.
The ferry docked in the cute little town of Winslow. Knox took me to lunch at his favorite café. We poked around the shops. He bought me a few trinkets, making a show of trying to find something that could buy me. It was sweet. He took me to the nature reserve, where the hours flew by as we hiked hand in hand, laughed, kissed, and necked in the deep woods.
When we were leaving the reserve, we were both hungry.
“We can dine at a great little restaurant in town,” he said. “Or we can grab takeout from it and eat on the beach. I have a favorite spot. Great view. Very few sand fleas.”
“The few sand fleas really sells it.” I studied him. Something about the look in his eyes and the way he said beach led me to believe there was more to that option than he was saying. “You promised me the beach. I even dressed for it.”
“We had some beach time in the nature reserve.” He was being too coy.
“Why do you look so sly and eager?” I got up close to him, nose to nose, so I could pierce the truth out of him. “What aren’t you telling me about the beach? Does it come with…perks?”
His eyes got that dark, hungry look. “I live on the beach. It comes with seeing where I live.”
“In that case, no contest,” I said. “I choose beach. I’m dying to see how you live. I can’t really picture it. Fisherman’s cottage, maybe? A canoe or kayak tied to a dock? A bungalow on stilts over the water? Oh! A double-wide in that trailer park near town?” I teased. He wasn’t the trailer park kind.
“Funny you didn’t guess fabulous mansion,” he said. “Should I be insulted?”
“Do you have a fabulous mansion?” I asked.
“You’ll see soon enough. Why do you sound like you could be bought off if I had a mansion?”
I kissed his cheek. “You’re silly. I can’t be bought off for anything less than a castle.”
“I knew you had a price.”
We picked up our boxed dinner. I got the impression that he’d ordered it ahead, planning and hoping I’d pick the beach. It was a good sign that he wanted to show me his home.
It was a short, scenic drive to his place. We parked in the driveway in front of a not-so-small, well-kept, and recently renovated beach bungalow. It wasn’t a mansion, but everything on Bainbridge was expensive, especially anything on the water. The small front yard was filled with flowerbeds and plants that thrived on the sound. Clumps of bright red and orange crocosmia bloomed in abundance. Hydrangeas were in bloom, covered in blue and purple blossoms.
We got out of the car and stood in front of the house while I studied it. “Your garden is beautiful. Like so many places on the water, you have acidic soil. But you have exactly the right plants for it.”
He frowned. “My landscaper chose the plants and takes care of the lawn and garden. One look at my dirt and you can tell the pH? You didn’t tell me you’re a plant biologist. Or are you a secret farmer?”
I laughed and pointed. “Your hydrangeas are blue and purple. They’d be pink if you had alkaline soil. Grandma always said they’re nature’s pH kits. Plant a hydrangea and watch the blooms and there’s no need to test your soil. Clearly you aren’t a gardener.”
“Clearly. And you are?”
I smiled.
“Irreconcilable differences?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Compatible strengths.” I took in the house. “And the house—”
“Is bigger than it looks from the front.” He pointed. “It’s long and narrow. Five bedrooms—”
“So many bedrooms,” I said in a leading tone.
“Plenty of room for guests and family.”
“And future children?” I said.
“I hope so. I want kids.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
I smiled back at him. “I do too. Maybe not enough to f
ill four bedrooms.”
“It’s always nice to have at least one guestroom.” He studied his house with a sense of satisfaction. “I added on when I bought it and remodeled. Not quite a mansion.”
“Close enough,” I said.
He took my hand, carrying our dinner in the other. “I’ll show it to you later. First, we eat before our dinner gets cold. This way.” He led me toward a gate on the side of the house.
“You’re not going to show me the inside first?”
“Not yet.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m trying to impress you. I have to sell you on the view first and my stretch of beach. The house is nice, but the beach is fantastic.”
“Yes, with so few sand fleas, I imagine it must be.”
He grinned and led me around the back to a beautiful patio filled with containers of plants and stylish patio furniture that made it into an outdoor room with a sofa, chairs, and dining table.
My breath caught at the view.
He leaned in and whispered, “I knew the view would sell you. You haven’t seen anything yet. We could eat here at the table. But let’s eat on the beach. A little sand doesn’t scare you?”
“Many things scare me,” I said. “Sand isn’t one of them.”
He grabbed a beach blanket from the patio and showed me to his favorite spot. We sat side by side, watching the changing water and sinking sun as we ate. Dinner was delicious—mostly finger food, which was an ironic choice for a couple with so few fingers between them. Fried chicken, rolls, potato salad.
I couldn’t help commenting on it. “Finger food? An interesting choice.”
His face fell. “I didn’t think.”
“As long as it doesn’t freak you out when I lick my robotic fingers.” I made a show of doing it, as seductively as possible. “Sauce doesn’t do them any favors.”
He took my real hand in his and lifted it to his mouth. “These are the fingers I’d like to lick.” He slid his tongue between them, licking and sucking, tickling me between my fingers until I stopped him with a kiss.
When we were finished eating, we took a long stroll along the beach as the sun dropped lower and lower. Knox seemed contemplative. And nervous.
When we were back at the bungalow, Knox took me in his arms. “What do you think? Could you ever imagine yourself living on the island?”
Mr. Accidental Groom Page 15