Make Me a Match (The Soul Mate Tree Book 5)

by Mackenzie Lucas

  He was attending a mixer. A dating mixer. Jesus.

  The idea made his skin crawl. This wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to date Daphne. Not practice his conversation skills on other women. But Athena told him it was the next step before he’d get his date with the lovely, sweet Daphne. A trial run. Therefore, he’d dragged his sorry ass here, dressed in the duds which made him appear ‘put together’ as she’d said.

  He tried not to show his disdain as he pushed his way through the lobby. Men, many fresh off the golf course next door, were milling about in packs talking to each other and holding drinks. As he advanced through the swarm of people, he noticed women in small bands, too. All conversing with each other. What was this? Junior high? Where everyone stayed segregated? Boys on one side, girls on the other. Shit.

  He almost came to a complete halt when he saw Athena across the room. She wore a slinky blue dress that exactly matched the color of her eyes and hugged her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Damn, she has an amazing body. A slit up the left side of the dress revealed a healthy expanse of tanned thigh that made him want to run his hand across the smooth skin and explore further until he had her whimpering under him.

  A man came up behind Athena, dark-haired, tanned, and placed his hand in the middle of her lower back, his fingers caressing in a way that spoke of familiarity. He leaned in and kissed her on the side of the throat and whispered something in her ear. A lover.

  She glanced up at him. Her eyes sparkled.

  Mark had to turn away. A burning in his gut and a desire to punch something hard had him grabbing the next drink offered by a passing waitress.

  He threw back the drink and winced at the taste of the Manhattan as it went down. Not his drink, but clearly it would do in a pinch.

  He deposited his empty glass on a nearby table and decided to head to the bar for something stronger and more to his liking. A whiskey.

  Just as he’d made it through the lobby archway and turned toward the bar, someone caught his arm.

  “Hey big guy, where you headed?” Sally hugged his arm to her side, wrapping her fingers around his bicep and walking with him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

  “Headed to get a real drink, not one of those girly numbers that I just downed.”

  Sally tapped his shoulder. “Manhattans are a girl’s best friend.”

  He glowered at her. “I don’t need any more best friends.”

  “Nope, you’ve got the best one ever.” She winked. “So how’s it going, BFF?”

  “Fine.”

  “Doesn’t sound fine. What’s got your boxers in a knot?”

  “Nothing.” He glanced at Athena, who had disengaged herself from the cling-on and was talking to another set of guys. They eyed her like she was a bowl of candy. He growled.

  “Ah, I see.” She tugged him through the entryway of the bar. “Let’s get you that drink.” She turned to the bartender. “Julio, give us each a shot of the twenty-five-year-old Macallan Fine Oak.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Mark whistled and raised an eyebrow at her extravagance. “What the fuck? The cheapest distributor sells that particular bottle of Macallan for almost two thousand dollars a bottle.”

  “Hey, you only live once. Plus, appears like you might need the good stuff tonight.”

  “I would’ve been happy with Jim Beam.”

  “Cheap drunk.”

  “You know I don’t get drunk.”

  She sighed. “Just because you’ve worked up a high tolerance since Sarah passed, doesn’t mean you don’t still get drunk. I am your best friend, after all. I know where all the bodies are buried.”

  It was true. She did. Knew everything about him. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

  He took the drink the bartender offered and lifted it to meet hers. “To life.”

  Sally tilted her glass to clink with his. “To good speed dates.”

  A little disgusted at what he had to do for the next hour, Mark tossed back the drink. “This is not how I want to spend my time.”

  “No pain, no gain.” She sat her tumbler on the bar top. “Besides, practice makes perfect.”

  “You got any other inane platitudes in there? Because you really should bring them all out at once.”

  “What’s got you so surly?”

  “According to you and the good relationship coach, I’m always surly.”

  “True.” She paused, studying him. “But I detect a hint of something a little more dangerous this time. Almost green-eyed.” Her mouth twitched.

  “Nope. Have no idea what you’re talking about. Haven’t met any green-eyed women yet.”

  “No, silly, the green-eyed monster. Jealousy.”

  “Ridiculous.” He pushed the glass toward the bartender. “Give me another.”

  “I think our sexy relationship coach has got you running scared already.”

  “The hell she does.” He turned toward Sally, leaning an elbow on the back of the barstool and the other on the bar top. “I’m not scared of that woman. Did I not let her dress me up like a Ken doll?”

  Sally ran her eyes over him from head to toe. “You are sexy tonight. If you weren’t my best friend, and I didn’t already have the hottest guy in the resort, I’d say you were pretty smokin’.”

  “I was not fishing for a complement.” He sipped his new drink. “I’m only saying I’m not afraid of her. I can stand up to anything she’s got for me.”

  “Uh-huh. Not buying it. I think she scares you because she makes you forget the kind of woman you think you want in your life. The safe ones.”

  “Bullshit.” It was so true. She did make him forget—with her breasts almost overflowing that tight dress and her long, toned thigh exposed—giving him a glimpse of the promise of paradise. He threw back the rest of his drink. “Let’s go. I’m sure this shindig is about ready to get started.”

  “Hmmm.” Sally considered him silently.

  “Hmmm, what?” He didn’t like the sound of her tone.

  “What color are Daphne’s eyes?”

  Mark thought about it and drew a blank. Nothing came to mind except the aqua green swirl of Athena’s eyes. “How would I know?” He decided to stick with surly.

  Sally started grinning. “And Athena? What color are her eyes?”

  “Color of the Aegean Sea.”

  She almost doubled over with laughter, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. “See. Told you. You are so pole-axed and you don’t even know it.”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about. So what if Athena is an attractive woman? She draws half the men in the room to her. The other half are gay.” He took a sip of his drink. “She doesn’t bother me.”

  “You are not as immune as you profess.” Sally stared at the ceiling. “Now, I’m calling bullshit.”

  “Whatever.” He gulped down more alcohol.

  “But I think Athena’s good for you. She challenges you in ways you haven’t been challenged in years.”

  “I don’t need a challenge. I need a date with the perfect woman. And she’s done nothing yet to get me the date I want.”

  “Oh, she will. And you’ll blow it, because you can’t help yourself. Daphne is all wrong for you.”

  “No, she’s not. She’s the woman of my dreams.”

  “Then she should stay in your dreams, and you should go after the real woman standing across the room who is driving you nuts.”

  “Not happening. See you around, BFF.” Mark lifted a hand in salute and stalked back into the main lobby of Essence to face the gauntlet. Ten speed dates in the next hour. What the fuck could you get to know about a woman in less than ten minutes? What could they get to know about him, for that matter?

  Not a damned thing, he wa
s certain, but he’d do it anyway if it got him one step closer to his ideal woman.

  ~ ~ ~

  Athena blew a whistle, like a coach of a football team—though unlike any coach Mark had ever experienced, standing there with her feet spread to hip width in another pair of fuck-me-shoes with obscene heels. Damn. His cock hardened. He couldn’t help it. Something about her attracted him to her, whether he wanted to be attracted or not. And the pull wasn’t just physical. She possessed a confidence and charismatic take-charge presence that appealed to him, drew him in. It was sexy as fuck.

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” she began, “we’re going to get started. The rules? You have five minutes at each station. When I blow the whistle, you progress to the next numbered table. You’ll have one minute to get to the next station and your new partner, introduce yourself and you’re off to the races. I’ll blow the whistle at the end of five minutes. You’ll have ten rounds. Ten chances to meet your next soul mate, lover, friend, yada, yada. Put your best foot forward. And for Pete’s sake, enjoy yourself. You each were given a number, please find your first table.”

  Mark perused the room, but Daphne wasn’t here. There was no chance he’d meet his soul mate tonight.

  “How’s it going, Mr. Cage?” Athena spoke at Mark’s elbow.

  He gave a curt nod. “Good.”

  “You don’t look good.”

  “What?” He spread his arms in disbelief. “You dressed me. Not my fault if I don’t measure up.”

  “No, you are yummy.” She laughed and squeezed his arm, making it tingle under the warmth of her hand through his shirt. He was in so much trouble with this woman. “I’d say emotionally you appear like you’re a deer in the headlights.”

  “Really? I’m pretty sure I’ve never looked like a deer in anyone’s headlights.”

  “Okay, maybe I’ve learned to read your body language in the short time I’ve known you. You’re a little tense.” She stepped close behind him where he waited at his first speed dating station, a tallboy table with a candle flickering and a small pad of paper and pens on both sides. She slid her hands to his neck and started kneading. “Relax, big boy.”

  Her hands felt wonderful. He moaned.

  He could get used to this—her way of soothing him. It certainly worked. Calmed him right down.

  “I hope you’re getting my date primed for me, princess.” A blonde bombshell cracked her gum as she stepped up to the table, then she proceeded to chew said gum in an obnoxious manner.

  “Sure am, LuAnne. Have fun.”

  And damned if the minx didn’t pat Mark on the ass before she disappeared and blew her whistle. Shit. Yep. Primed was a good word for his state. Not for the woman across the table, but the woman who seemed to have silent command over his cock.

  Maybe he should just screw Athena, get her out of his system, then he could focus on this relationship with Daphne.

  Who am I kidding? This wasn’t only biological; she’d also managed to somehow begin influencing him at a heart level too—making him care about pleasing her. Fuck. He was in bigger trouble than he’d imagined.

  Little more than halfway through the hour-long session, Mark knew everything he needed about six different women, and he was ready to go home. LuAnne was a gum-chewing commitment-phobe. Helen was an introverted nympho. Oxymoron, he knew, but still, it was true. Danielle, a shut-in and primary caretaker of her elderly mother. Stacey, a narcissist with delusions of grandeur. Joy, a preacher’s daughter wanting to redeem him and help him find salvation. Anna, a workaholic who barely had time for her pre-teen son. And, not a damned spark with any of them.

  Well, not a spark that compared to the one that flared to life any time Athena came close. Fuck that shit.

  When he got to his next table, Athena appeared across the tabletop from him.

  He quirked a brow. Curious. “What? You’re playing, too?”

  Laughter crinkled the corners of her eyes, softening her, making her seem more approachable and less like a focused businesswoman with an agenda. “Yeah, I mix it up sometimes. Check in on clients. See how it’s going.”

  “Huh. You do have a heart.” He took a sip of the scotch he’d ordered from the last waiter bearing Manhattans. “Who screens your clients?”

  “I do. Why?”

  “There was something wrong with each one of my dates.”

  “Funny, they said the same thing about you.”

  He squinted at her. “They did not.”

  She lifted her hand, palm toward him. “I swear.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” He was genuinely curious what the women he’d chatted with briefly had to say bad about him. “I’ve been nothing but charming. Curious. Asked questions. What’s not to love?”

  She held up a finger. “Give me a sec.” She turned her back on him and blew the whistle for the session to start.

  The chatter started up around them.

  “So?”

  She gave him a broad smile that did funny things to his stomach, like he was some goddamned teenage boy. “Well, for starters, each one thought you were too abrupt. You asked good questions, but you were judgmental and harsh in your responses. Like you were trying to find reasons to write them off.”

  He groaned. “What the fuck?”

  “Just being honest with you, big guy.”

  “I don’t even know what they’re talking about.”

  “Okay, let’s start with a question. Pretend I’m a potential date, for real.”

  Not hard for him when he’d already been imagining her naked under him, squirming on a large bed. Or riding him fast until he came hard. “All right.” The words came out thick.

  She cocked her head, studying him.

  “Tell me a little bit about yourself, Athena.” He played along. He knew all he needed to about her. She was sex on long legs. All the men in the room knew it. Several had touched her at any opportunity, a few had even kissed her. She’d never pulled back, seemingly open to all advances. But that was her ruse—her game.

  All the men in the room were in love with her. She hadn’t been lying.

  Yet Mark saw what they didn’t—Athena was confident, brassy, bold, considerate, charismatic, caring, and smart. She was so much more than a sexpot. And underneath it all, lay a tender vulnerability that she hid away from everyone.

  She might be sensuality incarnate. One hot number. But she was complicated and certainly not the keeping kind. Mark sensed it to his core even though he was only beginning to get to know this woman.

  “Aren’t you sweet, Mr. Cage, for asking?” She paused a moment, biting her full bottom lip. “As you know, I’m a relationship coach. I help people find each other.”

  “Sounds innocent.”

  “It is.”

  “I don’t think so.” He inspected the room, jammed with easily a hundred bodies. “There are a lot of lonely people out there.”

  “Yes, there are.”

  “Are you one of them, Athena?” He knew what he wanted her answer to be.

  She studied her hands where they were clasped lightly on the tabletop. “Not most days. I have a very rewarding career.”

  Interesting. But didn’t answer the question. Not really. He let the silence stretch for a minute, then asked. “Are you in a relationship right now?”

  “No.”

  “When was your last long-term relationship?”

  “Long-term relationship defined as?”

  “Committed, monogamous relationship lasting more than a year.”

  “It’s been a while.”

  “Answer the question. How long, Athena?”

  She licked her lips as her eyes darted to the phone sitting on the tabletop. He could see they had less than two minutes left to their session. Damn. Why was it
he was finally with one woman he longed to talk to, and he didn’t have enough time to find out what he really wanted?

  “Mmmm. Maybe a few years.”

  “How many?”

  “Five long, dry years.” She glared at him, suddenly a little miffed. “Does it make you happy to hear it’s been five years?”

  He gazed into her eyes. “No and yes.”

  “Explain.”

  “I understand what it’s like to be lonely. I’ve been there almost ten years. So, no, it does not make me happy to hear you’ve been alone for five years.”

  “And the yes?”

  “It does make me a little happy to know no one else has been with you for five years. Because when I look around this room, I’ve seen a lot of guys hitting on you, as if they’ve known you.”

  “They wish.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they do.”

  “Why does that make you happy, Mark?”

  He could see the vulnerability in her eyes, in the tiny, almost imperceptible quiver of her bottom lip.

  In that moment, he wanted to protect her—make the uncertainty go away. Restore her confidence.

  “I’m not going to answer that question right now, Athena. But I’ve got another question for you.” He came around the table and laid his hand on top of hers, leaned in and whispered in her ear. “When was the last time you had really hot, mind-numbing sex?”

  “Define mind-numbing.”

  “Sex so hot it pushes every other thought out of your head for hours.”

  “H-Hours?”

  “Yes.” He bit down lightly on the lobe of her ear. “Hours.”

  “Fuck.” She whispered the single word.

  “Yep, that’s what I’m talking about.”

  Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it like it was a lifeline, lifted her whistle to her lips, and blew on it as she took a step back from him. “Time’s up,” she announced.

  Then she ambled away. Without ever responding to his question. Or satisfying his curiosity. Yet he had his answer.