Perfectly Matched: ...And the Rest of the Matchmaking Chef Books

by Maddie James

  “But...”

  “What about the sandwich shop around the corner? That any good?”

  Of course, it was her favorite place, but what about Nora?

  “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

  “Because?”

  “Well, because of Nora...”

  “Nothing is going on between Nora and me, Becca.”

  “I know, but Nora thinks...”

  “I have made it very clear to Suzie that I do not want to be matchmaked with Nora.”

  “Well, that’s good.” Yes, yes indeed it was. “But Nora still thinks...”

  “She thinks what?”

  Hell’s bells. “Oh crap. She likes you, Sam. And she still thinks that Suzie is going to try and fix you up again, and...”

  Sam shook his head and grasped her hands. “Look. Let’s get something straight. I’m not here for Nora; I’m here for you. I waited a while before I stopped by. When I saw you at the nursery I was immediately attracted. I know I came on a little strong, but hey, I don’t flirt very often, and I was out of practice. Then, when I saw you again at the picnic, I couldn’t very well ditch my supposed date and ask you out. So, I waited. I have no obligation to Nora. Hell, I couldn’t take my eyes off you! It took me a solid week to get up enough courage to come in here and ask you to lunch, so give me a shot here, okay? I’m doing the best I can.”

  Wow. Big speech. Impressive.

  So, this was the place where she morally and ethically and calamari-vowly should be telling him to forget he ever saw her at the nursery, and during the picnic, because she was off men and had promised Nora—even though Nora was breaking her calamari vow—and because she knew that her best friend still harbored a wee bit of hope that Suzie would find a way to hook them up again. This was the place where she should have said, ‘Sorry, Sam. I can’t do lunch today,’ and send him on his merry way.

  But she didn’t. Couldn’t. For he was looking at her with big hazel-green hopeful eyes, practically willing her to accept his lunch offer, and dammit, she wanted to accept and forget the entire sordid mess because, wow, Sam Ackerman, was just too delicious and dreamy.

  There. She admitted it. She liked the guy.

  Hell. She couldn’t like him because Nora liked him.

  What to do? What to do?

  Her stomach growled.

  “See, you are hungry.”

  “Oh, not really, it’s just...”

  “Becca?”

  “What?”

  “If you don’t agree to go to lunch with me, I might just have to kiss you silly right here in the thriller section.”

  So, kiss me silly, big guy. Just try it. “Oh?”

  He stepped closer. Her face tilted upward.

  “Um, they have great fresh mozzarella, tomato and sprout sandwiches around the corner. On rye.”

  “Procrastinator. You’re avoiding the inevitable, you know.”

  A sexy come-hither grin broke across his face. “I’d much rather suck on your lips.” And as he descended quite close to those lips, besides the crackle of electricity that passed through them and caused hers to twitch in anticipation, she registered only one other thing...

  “Ack! Ack! Ack!”

  Screaming.

  Sam jumped back. Becca pushed off his chest.

  Nora came running from the back of the store. “Becca. Bec-ca! “On three-inch heels, she slid on the hardwood floors, around the counter, and... “Oh. My. God!”

  “What the hell?” Becca didn’t like the look on Nora’s face. She was white as a sheet. Racing past her, she went straight to Sam.

  “Omigod!” she repeated. “Sam. Sam! Did you hear? Did you come in to talk about it? Did they call you, too? OMG! I can’t believe it!”

  “Believe what, Nora?”

  Nora turned to Becca. “They want a second episode! With Sam. And guess what? They want another couple. So, of course I said the girl had to be you. They want you! Patricia said you were perfect. Now all we need to do is find another guy and we’re set. We’re going to be on TV. Again! Together!”

  Then she shrieked again, hopped up and down, and grasped Sam by the shoulders giving him a big squeeze. The look he gave Becca over Nora’s head was one of frustration, confusion, and disbelief.

  She was quite certain at that point that she couldn’t stomach lunch. And was pretty damned sure she wasn’t going to get her kiss, either.

  “Yippee...?” she mouthed and twirled a finger in the air.

  ****

  “I’m telling you right now. Get me out of this.”

  Sitting at Suzie’s kitchen table, Sam repeatedly stroked the fingers of his right hand through his hair. She handed him a cup of coffee. He took it and cradled the mug in his hands.

  “I don’t know what I can do, Sam. Patricia is holding you to the contract.”

  “I signed for one episode.”

  “Well, yeah, but there is something about continuity.”

  Closing his eyes, he just wanted to make it all disappear.

  “You don’t understand, Suzie. This whole thing is interfering with...” My love life. Hell. Did it really matter? Perhaps he should just get the thing over with, and then he could pursue Becca to his heart’s content.

  For that is truly what he wanted to do. Pursue Becca and win her over.

  “Nora is very interested in you, Sam.”

  Shit. He knew that but didn’t know how to address it.

  “My career as the matchmaking chef is on the line. I know you don’t want to do this but...”

  “Suzie,” he interrupted, “I know you are supposed to be this matchmaking queen, but if I can be upfront and honest with you, Nora just isn’t the girl for me.”

  “So you don’t want to try it another time?”

  “No.”

  Suzie sighed. “Well, I suppose people would see right through it, anyway. I have to come up with something else.”

  “I would very much appreciate that.”

  He took a sip of coffee and felt her gaze play over him.

  After a moment, she said, “This is about Becca, isn’t it?”

  Now his curiosity was piqued. “You can tell?”

  “I’m the matchmaking queen, right?” Reaching out, she laid a hand over his. “Leave it to me, Sam. I promise you. I’ll fix this.”

  Chapter Five

  Thing was, he couldn’t wait for Suzie to fix it. He was a man with things to do, places to go, and people—no, a person—to see. That’s why he decided to take matters in his own hands. He hoped to hell and back that he was making the right move. After all, it was Saturday night. Becca could be out on the town. He could be interrupting a cozy date. She might be washing her hair.

  About the time he lifted his fist to rap his knuckles on the wooden door to her apartment, his gut plunged and spiraled, and he broke out in a fine sweat.

  “You can do this, Ackerman. Full speed ahead.” I’m not waiting until next week when I have to see her in front of a whole slew of people.

  No. He didn’t want to wait any longer to spend time with Becca. He’d put off having a relationship for a while now; it was time to see if the two of them would click.

  ****

  Settled into her couch, a cozy mystery in her hands, a cup of Earl Grey at her elbow, and a quilt wrapped around her, Becca idly turned another page. It was the perfect evening to end an ideal hermit-like Saturday. She’d holed up all day long and had been pretty much lazy, letting her head clear a little, while attempting to keep her thoughts from wandering into dangerous territory—territory that involved both Sam and Nora and about what she was going to do about the two of them.

  Reading provided the safety net she needed. So far, that tack seemed to be working. She rarely read cozy mysteries, but this new author by the name of Scott was promising.

  She’d already read the last Calloway thriller, and she didn’t dare touch a romance tonight. This evening, she wanted to get lost in something totally different. And something that didn’t
remind her one bit about her situation at hand.

  I need something to escape.

  Yeah. Tell me about it.

  It didn’t seem to matter what she was reading, or thinking, or doing...Sam’s words, or his face, or a mannerism clicked back into her psyche on cue. Didn’t matter at all. He was just, everywhere.

  Sighing, she turned another page. Had she even read the previous one? Oh yes, there was a murder, a woman pushed down the staircase, and the young heroine had rushed out of her bed and breakfast room to see her lying motionless at the foot of the stairs. Glancing about, she saw no one. Slowly, she moved forward, descending a step at a time and picking up speed, keeping her eyes on the body to observe any sign of movement. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the heroine bent to get a better look at the woman and....

  A brisk knock rapped at Becca’s door. She jumped and squealed a little.

  Untangling herself from the quilt, she rose and glanced toward the clock. A little after eight. Nora, she knew, was having dinner with her folks. Her own mother was about ready to turn in for the evening. Early to bed, early to rise, was her mantra. It could be any number of other friends but they usually were pretty busy on the weekends. Unless they were stopping by to drag her out of her cozy nest.

  Well, she’d just quickly send them on their way.

  The door unlatched and unbolted, she swung it wide, expecting to see either Candy or Bea or Rachel, but instead she saw....

  “Sam?”

  A hand went to her hair. Had she combed it today? She’d not been out of her apartment all day long. Glancing lower, she checked to see if she had on a stained shirt. Had she showered? Drat! Teach her to hole up and be a hermit.

  “Wha...?”

  “You look fine, Becca. May I come in?”

  “Wha...?”

  He brushed past her. Bold of him. She stood there with her mouth open looking like an idiot, likely.

  “You might want to close both the door and your mouth, sweetheart.”

  With a swing of her arm and a jerk of her lower jaw, she did just that. Turning, she looked at him standing in the middle of her living room. “I’ll be right back,” she told him, taking in that wicked grin of his as she flew toward her bedroom.

  Once there, she sucked in a breath and looked at herself in the mirror. Okay, yes, she had showered earlier. Good thing.

  The hair was fine. A bit tousled but that was okay. Her white T-shirt left a lot to be desired, so she stripped it off and found a bright red one, instead. Red was a good color for her. Her black workout pants would be just fine.

  Looking at her feet, she was very relieved to see that the pedicure she’d had three days ago still looked good. The red toenails matched her shirt. Nice.

  Inhaling deep, she took another look in the mirror, held the breath to quell her flappable nerves, and then exhaled. With steps much less hurried than the ones she came into the bedroom on, she walked into the living room.

  Sam leaned back on the couch, reading her cozy mystery.

  That sight gave her heart a little warm jump-start. He looked way too damned good there.

  “Hi.”

  He put the book down. “Hi.” Patting the couch beside him, he added, “Come sit next to me. Let’s talk, okay?”

  She nodded. “All right.”

  Likely, she sat way too close to him, for at the very instant that she did, his arm went around her and all she wanted to do was lean into him and put her head on his shoulder. He must have sensed that because he whispered, “It’s okay. I’d like that.”

  She did, and he held her with both arms. Closing her eyes, she nuzzled into his shoulder and loved how it felt to be there. Wrapping his arms tighter around her, she heard and felt his exhale. She shifted closer. Together, it felt like they melted into one another.

  It had been some time since a man had held her. The warmth that radiated from her chest toward him, and the all-encompassing feeling of him surrounding her, was something that she’d waited a long time for. Sam...was worth waiting a long time for.

  He moved a hand to her face and brushed her long hair back. She lifted her head to look into his eyes, while he made tiny, feathery strokes over her cheekbones and forehead. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. I know I should have called, but I was afraid you’d tell me no. You’d want to do the right thing, and in the process, you’d shortchange yourself. I know, Becca, that you are in an awkward position with Nora, but...”

  “Sam?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Please kiss me.”

  His gaze played over her face for only a second, then he leaned in to touch his lips to hers.

  Becca savored the firm, salty taste of his lips. He brushed them over hers, wet and hot and giving, and she knew at that moment if it were possible to get any closer to him, she wanted to do that. A very dangerous thought. With his fingers threaded through her hair at her temples, he held her still while he teased and played, and they mingled lips and tongues. A tingling sensation started at the friction and radiated through her; her heart pounded in her throat.

  Breaking away with a gasp, she whispered, “Wow. Some kiss.”

  “There’s more if you want.”

  “But you wanted to talk.”

  “I can talk with my lips.”

  “I’m not sure this counts as talking.”

  He shrugged. “Works for me.” A bad-boy grin lit up his face.

  Becca was lost. They should talk, yes, but this was magic.

  And she so needed some magic.

  “Becca,” he whispered while lowering her to the couch, “let’s relax and see what happens, okay? Let’s lay here and talk and kiss and whatever else...” His voice drifted off as he nestled into the crook of her neck and laid soft nibbles there.

  Whatever else was what worried her. At the moment, it appeared she didn’t have a lot of willpower. But she had to resist him, didn’t she? Even though she knew that, intellectually speaking, as his body lowered next to hers on the couch and she was cradled there between him and the back cushions, all she wanted was his body.

  Maybe they should talk.

  She fiddled with the placket of his shirt. “I am in sort of a difficult place, Sam. Nora is my best friend and my employer. Not that she would fire me, she wouldn’t do that, but she likes you, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

  “Don’t you think deep down she realizes that there is nothing between us? At some point, Becca, Nora is going to have to understand that. I mean, I’ve done nothing to lead her on. That television show fiasco should have made it apparent. We don’t have a thing in common.”

  She agreed. “It’s the fantasy of it all. That’s just Nora. She’s infatuated with the idea of being in love, and this matchmaking thing is so fairytale like. She’s having a difficult time giving that up, I think. The thing is, Sam, she’s been so wrapped up in her own world, she has no clue that there is a spark between us.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “I know. It’s the Suzie and Patricia thing, too, and the additional television show. They are all counting on you and Nora to make this work so Suzie has a good show, and Patricia is successful, as well, and...”

  Sam placed a forefinger on her lips. “No, that’s not what I mean. Between you and me, Becca. It’s more than a spark, isn’t it?”

  More than a spark?

  His fingers dropped to her collarbone. He traced down to the center of her cleavage with a forefinger. “I can’t get you out of my head. Haven’t been able to for weeks. I want like hell to see if I can ramp up that spark. I want to fan it until it licks higher...”

  Becca watched his eyes as he laid his palm flat on her chest and inched his fingers under the V-neck of her t-shirt.

  His hand felt so, so good there.

  This was moving fast. Way too fast. Wasn’t it?

  “Fan me,” she whispered.

  Sam’s eyes widened.

  “Lick the flame.”

 
; ****

  Sam couldn’t believe that at last, he had Becca in his arms and that she was like putty in his hands. He could feel her conflict, knew that it was there, but she’d given it over to something else. Him. He wouldn’t take that for granted.

  She angled her body and tilted her chin, offering her mouth to him. With her tongue, she reached out and sampled his lower lip, dragging the tip across it. Every nerve ending he possessed there cried out for more.

  Hungrily, he took her mouth, deepening the kiss. They parried and thrust with eager tongues and heightened passion. She clutched him and kneaded her fingers along his back, bunching his shirt up in her fists. Groaning, he pushed her deeper into the couch, smoothing his hand down over her breast while he continued to claim her mouth. His palm cradled her breast inside the cup of her bra. Warm, full, firm...and ripe for his touch. The thought raced through him and settled in his gut. Damn, how he wanted her. Wanted it to be right, wanted to take it slow, wanted not to risk anything to make this go away. He needed Becca, and he didn’t want to scare her off.

  Lick the flame, she had said, and that surely meant that she wasn’t scared, right?

  He found her nipple and twiddled with it between two fingers. She moaned and thrust her tongue deeper into his mouth. He sucked and played, teasing her with his own. But he wanted more. A whole lot more.

  He removed his hand from her bra and lifted the hem of her t-shirt over her breast. The cup of her bra rode low on her full breast and he teased it away with his tongue. She had a perfect round areola, set dark against milky skin, tender and silky, ideal for sucking, licking...just right for him.

  One flick of his tongue sent her arching into his mouth. He bore down, lifting her breast with a free hand and taking her fully.

  Perfect, perfect...God, she was so damned perfect....

  He needed more of her. Wanted her closer.

  She must have been thinking the same thing for she was tearing at the buttons of his shirt. One by one she unfastened them, stopping only long enough to allow him to strip her t-shirt over her head and unclasp her bra.

  “Thank God,” he hissed out. “Skin to skin...”

  “Yes.”

  Her breasts seared against his chest. “Damn, Becca. I never intended for us to go here tonight.”