Undercover Bachelor (Undercover Matchmakers Book 1)

by Maria Geraci

  Becks growled impatiently. “Annie, of course.”

  “Not really.” He’d met a lot of pretty in his life. A lot of beautiful too. He’d even met an occasional gorgeous. None of those adjectives fit her. Pretty sounded juvenile, and her features were too irregular to call her beautiful. She was appealing, though. No doubt about that. With those big brown eyes that sparkled with both humor and intelligence and a slightly crooked nose spattered with just the right amount of freckles. No, the word he’d use was … interesting. Unique. Stimulating. He’d take all that over pretty any day.

  “Was she funny?” Becks persisted.

  “I almost fell asleep talking to her.”

  “But I bet she’s smart, like in her letter, right?”

  “I didn’t ask her to solve a calculus problem.”

  “You’re impossible, you know that? At this rate, you’re never getting married.”

  “She’s practically engaged to another man. You’re also ignoring the fact that we live about a thousand miles from each other.”

  “So? Unless you manage to convince her otherwise, she’s going to break up with Walter. And nowadays with frequent flier miles and Skype, two people can date even if they live across the country. You have heard of sexting, right?”

  “What do you know about— Isn’t it time for your orientation to begin?”

  Becks made a sound of disgust. “I’m done trying to talk sense to you. Just tell me you’re not going back on the show to date Hannah.”

  “What show?”

  “What show? Single Gal. Remember?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Some producer called, Tammy, I think her name is. She said she’s been trying to get in touch with you.”

  “Tammy called you? How the—” First it was his office, now they were hounding his family. Unbelievable. “You didn’t tell her where I was, did you?”

  “Give me some credit, bro. I’m not about to give out information to a perfect stranger. But listen to this. Apparently, Hannah has changed her mind. She’s sorry she sent you home, and she wants you back on the show. Ha! As if you’d reconsider. She had her chance, and she picked the duck over you.” She hesitated. “You’re not going back on the show, are you?”

  “Hell no.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Becks said. “But you’re doing the reunion show, right?”

  “What reunion show?”

  “That’s the big show at the end when Hannah and all the bachelors get together in front of a live audience and the guys all diss each other.”

  Oh yeah, he remembered now that Dave had mentioned something about a reunion special. “I thought that was just for the guys that lasted longer on the show.”

  “That’s usually true, but you’re this season’s number one fan favorite. All the tabloids say so. I bet the producers would love to have you.”

  “I’d rather have a root canal. Listen, if Tammy or anyone else from the show calls again, hang up. Better yet, block her number. That’s what I did.”

  Sam pulled into the parking lot of Esposito’s Used Cars. It wasn’t enough that the media were making his life miserable, but now his family was being harassed by the producers of Single Gal. The whole thing was like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. He should get his legal team to put a restraining order on anyone connected to that show. Just as soon as he finished this visit to Annie, he’d give Stella a call and get her on it.

  He stepped out of his car and was greeted by a young guy wearing a button-up shirt and tie. “Looking for something to replace that rental?” Sam didn’t have to check the guy’s name tag to know that this was Frank Jr. He and Annie had the same eyes, and more telling, the same friendly inflection in their voice that immediately put a person at ease.

  “Not today, thanks.”

  “Too bad. You look like the kind of guy who’d appreciate this baby.” He led Sam over to a laser-red Mustang convertible. “It’s in prime condition. I could give you a great deal on it.”

  “Thanks, but I’m here to see your sister.”

  “You know Annie?” He put his hand out. “Frank Esposito Jr.”

  The two men shook hands. “Sam DeLuca.”

  Frank Jr. looked at him curiously. “Is this business, or are you a friend?”

  “You could say we’re friends. We met last night at The Miramar Café.”

  “Really? Huh. She’s in a meeting with my dad right now, but you can wait in her office if you’d like.”

  He ushered Sam into the building, offered him coffee, which Sam gratefully accepted, and left him sitting in a small corner office. The walls were painted a pale yellow, and a treadmill took up a big chunk of space, but the rest of the room featured a clutter-free desk, computer, and a functional-looking ergonomic chair. It was the diplomas on the wall that caught Sam’s attention, though. An accounting degree from Florida State University and an MBA from the University of Chicago.

  The sound of a woman’s voice made him turn toward the door. “Connie is running all around town telling everyone that Walter saved a—” The woman, in her late thirties with jet-black hair and rhinestone-studded glasses, stood in the doorway with a cell phone against her ear, gawking at him. Sam checked to make sure he’d put on his pants this morning. Yep. He was fully clothed, all right.

  “Well, shut the front door. You’re—him! Sam DeLuca. What on earth—Penny, I’m going to have to call you back.” She slipped the phone down the front of her shirt, then readjusted her bra to accommodate it.

  “That’s got to be uncomfortable.”

  She grinned. “Big Frank doesn’t like me to use my cell phone unless I’m on my break. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She shook her head like she still couldn’t believe it. “You’re the guy that Walter saved from choking. Connie said it was some guy named Roy Rogers, but she’s so gullible.”

  “And you must be Bridget.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Annie told me about you.”

  “What are you doing here in Old Explorer’s Bay?” Her eyes got a wild look in them. “Oh my God. It’s the letter! Isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  Bridget’s face screwed up. “Yeah, about that letter … there’s something you need to know. Annie didn’t mail it. She wrote it, but then she threw it in the trash. I’m the one who mailed it.”

  Bridget mailed the letter? It all made sense now. All those odd looks Annie had given him last night whenever he’d made a reference to something she’d written. It was because she was genuinely clueless. “So Annie has no idea I’ve read her letter.”

  “That’s right. As a matter of fact, she’d have my head on a platter if she found out I mailed it, so I’d appreciate it if you keep that between us.”

  “She’d fire you?”

  “Nah. She’d be madder than a hornet, but she’d get over it. It’s just, I really like her, you know? Not that I’d ever tell her that, but we were just starting to become friends, and if she found out that I’d—”

  “Gone behind her back?”

  “Pfft, I was just trying to help. And guess what? I did. You’re here, right?” Bridget’s voice rose in excitement. “Don’t tell me. You came all the way from Texas to tell Annie that after reading her letter, you’ve fallen head over heels in love with her and you can’t live another day without her.”

  “Is there something in the water in this town that I don’t know about?”

  “Hey.” She sniffed. “It could happen.”

  “You sound like my sister Becks. Sorry, but that scenario only happens in the movies. Really bad, sappy ones.”

  “What about all that stuff you said on Single Gal?” she demanded. “Was that just for TV? Or did someone write that for you?”

  “I had a camera light shining in my face. I have no idea what I said.”

  “Then what are you doing here in Old Explorer’s Bay?”

  “I came here to get away from the press.”<
br />
  Her shoulders slumped. “So much for true love.”

  Before he could respond to that, Annie walked into her office. Their gazes met, causing her to jerk back in surprise. Despite the obvious, Bridget pointed to him. “Guess who I found?”

  Annie cleared her throat. “This is unexpected.”

  “And that would be my cue to leave you two lovebirds alone,” said Bridget. “Let me know if you need anything. Water, coffee, condoms …” She winked at him before closing the door behind her.

  “And I thought Stella was a trip.”

  Annie snorted. “Tell me about it.” She looked at him, clearly puzzled but trying her best to hide it. She perched her bottom on the edge of her desk to face him. They were just a couple of feet away from each other, close enough that he could catch a faint whiff of her perfume—something light and flowery. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders, and with the morning light streaming in through the blinds, he could catch every one of her freckles. Her navy-blue pencil skirt, black heels, and white button-down shirt were standard female office attire. He’d just never found it sexy before.

  “So, what can I do for you, Sam?”

  “I thought I’d drop by and check out the place.” It sounded lame. He’d come to talk to her about the letter, only now he couldn’t address it. Not without giving Bridget away, and despite her attitude, which bordered on the ridiculously too familiar for a personal assistant, he suddenly found himself grateful to her. If Bridget hadn’t mailed that letter, he would have never found Annie.

  PS Not to brag or anything, but every Sunday I do the New York Times crossword puzzle and last week I finished it in under an hour and twenty minutes (my personal best time!). Okay, yeah, I’m totally bragging.

  He couldn’t help but grin. It was time to admit to himself that he liked her.

  He liked her a lot.

  All the way down to her last freckle. Wherever that might be. He wouldn’t mind finding out, that’s for sure. But he’d just met her. And despite what he’d said on that television interview, love at first sight didn’t happen in the real world.

  “What’s the smile for?” she asked, looking confused.

  He covered up his thoughts by pointing to one of the diplomas framed on the wall. “An MBA from the University of Chicago. Impressive.”

  “Says Mr. Harvard.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, really, what are you doing here?”

  “I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by to thank you for a nice ending to what could have been a dangerous evening for me.” He brought his hands up to his throat and did the universal choke sign, making them both laugh.

  “Seriously? That’s why you came by?”

  He should probably make nice and let her get back to work, but it was like he’d been hot-glued to his chair. It was too late in the day to rent a fishing boat, but he could hit the beach this afternoon. Catch up on his reading. The thing was, he was enjoying being around her too much to leave just yet. “There was this car I saw on the way in. Do you have time to show it to me?”

  “You want me to show you a car?” she asked slowly. “Which one?”

  “The red Mustang convertible.”

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The Mustang doesn’t seem like your kind of car.”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for my sister, Becks.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “That’s right. You mentioned something about that last night.”

  Curious now, he couldn’t help but ask her, “What kind of car do I seem like?”

  She playfully studied him. “Let’s see … I take you for a three-car kind of guy. BMW during the week. Pickup truck on Friday and Saturday nights. And a Volvo on Sundays to take your mama to church.”

  He grinned. “You got one out of three.”

  “Let me guess. The pickup truck?”

  He nodded. “I have a car service that takes me to work. And my mama drives herself to church.”

  “But you tag along every once in a while. Am I right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “A car service, huh? Pretty fancy.”

  “Not really. Instead of fighting traffic, I can get in an hour of work each way.”

  “In that case, the accountant in me approves of your efficiency.” Her brown eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “Thank you.”

  They stared at each other for a few long seconds. An image of her laid out on the desk with him on top of her flashed through his brain. Or she could be on top. Whichever she preferred.

  As if she could read his mind, she broke the moment by hopping down from her perch on the edge of the desk. “Why the Mustang? And why Esposito’s Used Cars? There must be hundreds of car dealerships in the Dallas area. I would think if you wanted to buy your sister a car, you’d start there.”

  “What kind of salesperson are you?”

  “A horrible one. That’s why I let my brother do the sales and I take care of the finances.”

  “Call it an impulse buy.”

  She looked as if she didn’t believe him, but she still opened the door to her office and motioned for him to follow her. “In that case, c’mon. Let’s take a look at the car.”

  11

  Was Sam DeLuca flirting with her? Annie sifted through the last ten minutes, trying to pinpoint what had given her that idea. On the surface, their conversation had been friendly, almost playful. There had been nothing overtly sexual. Yet she’d felt herself getting all hot and bothered just the same.

  What was he doing here? Like she’d told him, there were hundreds of car dealerships back in Dallas. Why waste a day looking at a car when he could go fishing or relax by the beach?

  She put on her best professional smile and led him over to the vehicle. “This car rides like a dream. It has less than ten thousand miles on it, and we offer a certified warranty.” She hit the key button to unlock the door. “Want to take her for a spin?”

  “Don’t you need to see my driver’s license first?”

  “Probably. This isn’t my forte. Frank Jr. or one of the other salespeople are the ones who show the cars, but I think I can trust you.”

  He took the key from her, then settled into the driver’s side, adjusting the seat and the mirrors to accommodate his height. He easily found the button that took down the car’s top.

  Annie buckled herself in. “Where do you want to go?”

  “How long do we have?”

  “As long as it takes to make the sale.”

  He slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “In that case, let’s hit the beach.”

  He drove over the Intracoastal bridge, then took a left to go north on AIA, paralleling the eastern coastline. She pointed out areas of interest. Her cousin’s fishing boat business and Bootleg Pete’s, a local bar.

  The wind caused her hair to whip up around her face. Her hair would probably end up looking like a rat’s nest, but Annie didn’t care. There was something incredibly exhilarating about being in a car with Sam DeLuca, breathing in the clean, salty air with the sun’s warmth caressing the top of her head. When was the last time she’d felt this carefree?

  “Isn’t Bootleg Pete’s where your friends meet for drinks on Thursday nights?” he asked. She raised a brow, prompting him to add, “I overheard you and your cousin Sophie talking about it last night at the diner.”

  “That’s the place.”

  “You plan on going tomorrow night?”

  Girls’ Night, as Sophie called it, had always seemed like a silly waste of time, but Annie could use a night out with Sophie and her friends. Maybe they could give her tips on how to break up with Walter since Bridget’s idea of doing it over dinner hadn’t exactly worked out.

  “As a matter of fact, I am going to go.” Then, before she chickened out, she added, “Since you’ll still be in town tomorrow, if you find yourself bored and looking for something to do, you should check it out. Thursday nights are two for one, plus there’s karaoke, so it’ll be hopping. At least, hoppin
g for Old Explorer’s Bay.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction to her impromptu invitation.

  “Karaoke, huh? You any good?”

  “Come join us and maybe you’ll find out. Don’t worry, I won’t let Sophie or any of her friends hit on you. I’ll tell them to be on their best behavior, and if anyone thinks they recognize you, we’ll swear to the death that your real name is Roy Rogers.”

  He laughed. “I just might take you up on that.” Up ahead, a local fast-food place with a flashing marquee sign caught their attention. “You hungry?”

  “Famished.”

  He pulled into the restaurant, and they ordered burgers and shakes from the drive-up window, then Sam parked the car to face the ocean, giving them a postcard view of the water. They ate as they watched the waves crash onto the shoreline, the idyllic scene interrupted only occasionally by a lone seashell collector or a jogger.

  Annie slurped down her shake.

  “Careful or you’ll get a brain freeze,” Sam warned.

  “Too late.” She sat back in the seat, too stuffed to move.

  “Want to walk it off?” Sam pointed toward the beach.

  “Tempting, but I should probably get back to work.”

  “But you haven’t made the sale yet.” He grinned boyishly, revealing a dimple on his right cheek. She tried not to be charmed, but it was too late. Like every other woman in America, she’d been smitten by the television version of Sam DeLuca. But in person? Smitten didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling. She could seriously find herself in like with this man.

  She looked back at the beach. Crystal-clear blue sky. Eighty degrees. Low humidity. It was more than just tempting. May in Florida usually meant sweltering pre-summertime temperatures, but today felt more springlike. They wouldn’t see another day this nice until October. She’d cleared her desk off this morning, and she never took time off. So why not?

  They took off their shoes and made their way along the beach, where the cold water from the Atlantic Ocean rolled onto the shore to hit their feet. “Tell me more about this smart sister of yours. Becks, right?”