Searching for Perfect

by Jennifer Probst

  "I surrender. A rocking body and a brain. I'm yours."

  She waited for the prickle of happiness she always experienced when she was able to enchant a man. The perfect foreplay banter usually got her body lit up and ready to go. Instead, her tummy remained steady and her nipples flat. One of her main issues was always the thrill of ensnaring male attention. She'd done the therapy and knew it came from her past of consistently chasing after approval from the opposite sex. When she lost the weight, it was as if she'd dropped into a candy store, and overindulging was an easy way to forget about her other problems. Beautiful men and physical pleasure. Did anything get better than that?

  But tonight she just wasn't in the mood.

  Her gaze flickered back to the booth. The drinks had arrived, and they sat with their heads bent together in conversation. Nate threw back his head and laughed. Connor grinned.

  "Kennedy?"

  She jumped. "Yeah?"

  "I have to take this call, it'll be a few minutes. Forgive me?"

  "Of course. I'll wait here."

  He walked out of Mugs with the phone held to his ear, already barking instructions to his assistant or partner. Well, it was ridiculous not to go over and say hello. Introduce herself to Connor. It would only take a moment.

  She grabbed her drink, slid off the stool, and marched to their table.

  "Hey."

  Nate looked up. Pleasure shone in his gaze as he took in her appearance, but it was more than a compliment. He seemed to look to the very inside of who she was, beyond the physical form she was so proud of. "Hey."

  "I thought you had a date with Sue."

  "We did. Are you here with the girls?" he asked.

  "No, on a date."

  His lips tightened. "Oh. That's nice. This is my brother, Connor. Connor, meet Kennedy from Kinnections. My matchmaker."

  Connor reached out and shook her hand. "No kidding. I didn't know they made matchmakers like firefighters."

  "Firefighters?" she asked.

  "Darlin', you're so smoking hot you need a fire extinguisher for the job."

  Nate winced.

  Kennedy studied his brother and did the only thing she could under the circumstances.

  She laughed. "I think that scores as one of the worst pick-up lines of all time. Please don't tell me you ever got lucky with that one."

  Connor pumped up masculine pride. "Nah, but you're the first matchmaker I've ever met." He winked. "Had to bring out the big guns for you."

  "Thank God. It's a pleasure to meet you, Connor. Nate speaks highly of you. Says you're in construction."

  "Yeah, we just finished a job in Westchester. I may be heading out to Tarrytown next."

  "Was it the government building?"

  He lit up. "Yeah, that's the one we just completed."

  "The architecture is gorgeous. But they have major flooding in that area. Do you do anything special with those types of buildings to protect from water flow?"

  "Actually, we laid the groundwork with a few drainage systems, then built a special rigging beneath to withstand the pressure. It's a new technique they do now with the bigger jobs."

  "Interesting, I always wondered about that. Did you hear about the project they're working on to save Venice?"

  "Hell, yes. Called the Moses project. Working twenty-four hours a day and should be done in another five years. They're constructing a special wall that will release the pressure of the water when it comes in. Not too many people know about it. Hey, why don't you join us?"

  "She's on a date."

  Nate's voice came out flat and hard. She glanced toward the door and saw Derek pacing back and forth, the phone still pressed to his ear. "He's taking a call. I'll stay just for a few if I'm not interrupting."

  "Nah, we're just bullshitting." He slid over to make room and she sat down. "How come you're not sleeping with Nate?"

  Nate spit out his Darth Maultini. "What the hell?"

  "Really, bro, you're a catch. I mean, I don't get it. You spend all this time at the gym making him work out, get him this new wardrobe, stick something in his eye so he looks good, and you're not doing him?"

  Ah, the directness of the Dunkle brothers was quite refreshing. "We do go to the gym a lot. Has Nate told you how well he's doing in class?"

  "Weight training," Nate interrupted. "It's weight-training class."

  Kennedy ignored his glare and tried not to giggle. "Yes, of course, weight-training class. He's quite the star."

  "Just like I taught him."

  "Yes, but since he's a client, I'm afraid we can't 'do' each other."

  Connor nodded. "Makes sense. So, I had a great idea. Instead of running a matchmaking agency to set up people for marriage, why don't you start a one-night-stand agency? It'll make it a hell of a lot easier to hook up for an evening."

  Nate groaned and reached for his drink. "That's asinine."

  "Actually, Connor is brilliant. It will make a ton of money. I just need to change the description to a brothel. Or a high-class escort agency. Then I'll get my name splashed in the newspapers, score a Lifetime movie of the week, and have to use my piles of money to bail myself out of jail. Thanks for the idea."

  Connor shook his head when Nate laughed. "You're a real pistol, darlin'. Maybe I should let you hook me up after all."

  "Only if you're open to love."

  "A mirage. A perfect night of pleasure is realistic."

  "Actually, that's the real mirage," she said. "The dark hides a lot. No one has to tell secrets, get messy, or deal with morning breath. Daylight is the hard part. The realistic part."

  Nate stiffened. His gaze swung to hers, and suddenly, her breath shortened and her heart pounded and time stopped. God, his eyes were pure fire and burn, pinning her beneath his stare and forcing her to acknowledge there was something between them. Her words hung in the air, heavy and ripe with promise. What was she doing? What had she said?

  Connor cleared his throat, as if he knew that he had interrupted something big. "Pretty deep. So, how about you ditch your date and we take a quick trip to Paradise City?"

  "Where's that?"

  He dropped his voice. "My place, darlin'. What do you say?"

  Nate rubbed his forehead as if in deep pain. Kennedy laughed with delight. It got better and better. "Awful, just awful. As much as I adore Axl Rose, I'll pass." Derek strode through the door, his gaze scanning the room. "Gotta go. He's back." She slid out of the booth. "Nice to meet you, Connor. Nate, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  "Sure. Bye."

  She walked away and wondered why she felt more alive after a two-minute conversation with Nate than she had the whole evening with the man she might sleep with.

  FUCK.

  Nate finished his drink and tried to listen to his brother's long narrative about Jerry's cheating ex. He should've never come to Mugs. How the hell was he supposed to know she'd be out on a date? Not just any date, either. But with someone who matched her perfectly. He wore his clothes like a male model, towered over her in height, and had his hands on her thigh like he had a right to be there.

  Prickface.

  He brooded, drank, and imagined punching Mr. Pretty Boy in the face. The violent tendencies came from a dark, deep place inside he never knew existed. They chatted at the bar, clearly engaged in a flirty, verbal sparring that twisted his gut. He bet her date never stumbled over his words, or said idiotic things, or dropped food on his outfit. Bet he never got buzzed by a dog collar either.

  Depression pressed down on him. He should've slept with Sue. Who cares if she was a bit judgmental of his brother? Most women raced for the door once he opened his mouth. She would've gotten used to his behavior, and eventually come to love him, and then Nate would've had an orgasm, and been happy instead of sexually frustrated and in the depths of misery.

  Fuck.

  The guy tugged her off the stool, grabbed her hands, and led her toward the back. Great. Probably sneaking in a good make-out session before moving the grand finale t
o his house. Or hers. The image of the kiss they shared in the rain floated in his vision. He'd thought it was hot and passionate and beautiful. But of course, it meant nothing to her. She was already dragging out the flavor of the week back there to imprint a new memory. He was a schmuck. Chasing after someone of Kennedy's caliber only set him up for failure.

  He was done. He'd call her in the morning and get a new date set up. Mary was his second choice and seemed like a good fit. This time, he'd be more open and less opinionated. This time, he'd have some damned sex.

  He sat for a while until Connor finally wound down on the new chapter of how beautiful women sucked and would eventually rip your heart to shreds. "You okay, bro? You look weird."

  Maybe it was that third drink. Sometimes he was a bit of a lightweight. "Gotta hit the bathroom. Then I think I'm ready to wrap up."

  He pushed his way through the crowds, took care of his business, and began to head back to his brother. Then paused. Was she still out there? Was he that much of a pussy that he needed to see her kiss someone else with his own eyes? Yes. Maybe the image would finally sear into his dick and his brain and he'd finally stop fantasizing about her.

  Muttering under his breath, he went to the back door and stepped out. The small porch was black and silent. Gone. Probably home with him right now, taking off her clothes and diving into bed. Bastard.

  "Don't."

  The tiny whisper floated on the breeze. Nate paused and cocked his head. The low murmur of voices came from the side of the building, hidden beneath a few large bushes. A laugh. Crap, he so didn't want to interrupt some edgy role-play. He'd never recover.

  "Don't play the virginal tease. Unless you like that. We've been leading up to this all night."

  "Get your fucking hands off me."

  A body slam. "Fine, we can do rough. Undo the blouse. Show me your tits."

  A moan.

  "I know you want it." A rip. "Nice tits, baby. Very hot."

  "No."

  The whisper was full of agony, not pleasure.

  Nate moved.

  In seconds, he ripped the guy off her. He stumbled back and shook his head. "What the hell, man? You're interrupting a private moment."

  Nate studied Kennedy. She leaned back against the wall, her hands holding up her torn blouse. Her lips looked well kissed. She was breathing hard, as if aroused. And then he saw her eyes.

  Vacant.

  She stared back at him as if she were somewhere else, somewhere she didn't want to be, and was trapped in a hell of her own making. Jesus, what had happened? He tamped down hard on the swirling rage and temper dying to fly out, and concentrated on her. "You okay, Ken?" He spoke gently. It took a few seconds, but her gaze finally cleared. She blinked, as if surfacing from a deep sleep.

  "Huh?"

  He walked over and touched her cheek. His hand shook as he surveyed her defensive position. "Did this guy hurt you?"

  Prickface's voice piped up in sheer disgust. "For God's sake, we're fooling around out here, Lancelot. You ruined a good moment."

  Nate didn't break his gaze, just kept stroking her cheek. "Want me to beat the shit out of him? Call the cops? Talk to me, Ken."

  Her voice came out husky. "No. I just want to go. I want to . . . go."

  "With him?"

  "No!" Her body burst into tiny convulsions that tore his heart to shreds.

  "Shhh, it's okay. I got you." He put his arm around her back and led her forward.

  "Oh, I don't think so." Prickface stood before them, a tiny smirk on his lips. He was a good few inches taller than Nate, with broader shoulders. "I'll take her home. I didn't do anything wrong, and you're not treating me like some scum date rapist. Don't embarrass me, Kennedy. Tell this guy we were just fooling around."

  Humiliation flickered in her eyes, but it was the second emotion on her face--fear--that helped him make the decision that he would fight this asshat if he had to. "Forget it, things got a bit out of control. Nate, can you take me home?"

  "Aww, babe, don't be like that. We'll talk. Let's not ruin a good night."

  She flinched as he took a step forward. Nate stepped in between them and put out his hand. "This is how it's gonna be. Walk away and don't contact her again. I'll get her home. Got it?"

  Prickface sneered. "Don't think so. I take care of my own dates and my business."

  Nate tried for calm, he really did, but the fury exploded from the cold ball of lead in his gut and burst through his veins. "Last chance. Then I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

  Prickface laughed. "You and what army?" He rolled up his custom designer sleeves and came at Nate slowly. "You know what? This is gonna be fun. I haven't taught someone a lesson in a long time."

  "I agree. It's time I teach you when a woman says no, she means it."

  "Nate!" Her cry of alarm soothed his soul. "Please, let's just go. I don't want you to get hurt."

  "Stay here, Ken. I'll be right back."

  "But--"

  Prickface came at him with a pathetic lunge and a sloppy right hook. Nate dodged left and connected. Score. Asshole blinked through a puffy eye, cursed, and got reinvigorated. "You're gonna pay for that one."

  With a bored sigh, Nate judged his next move to be an uppercut followed by a kick to the knees. So nineties. He compensated with a sidestep and a few lightning jabs to the chin. Bone cracked. Score.

  Prickface fell this time but got up. With a vicious curse, he went for the full-out body slam. Nate swept his front ankle and gave him the full left.

  Knockout.

  He left him bleeding in a pile by the bushes. Kennedy watched his approach with wide eyes. He took off his jacket, slid it over her shoulders, and buttoned it over her torn blouse. "Let's go. I got you."

  "Not inside. Not like this."

  He nodded. "I know. I'm taking you out the side, we'll walk."

  She didn't answer. He tucked her in close to him for warmth, and they made their way through the streets of Verily toward his house. This time, she ducked her head instead of soaking up the sights and sounds of a busy evening, and he hurried his pace. She didn't question him when he settled her on the sofa in the living room, or when he put on a pot to boil water for tea. He quickly texted his brother to let him know he ditched him and walked home, promising to check in tomorrow. She sat docilely, staring at the wall. He left her alone with her thoughts.

  But the anger burned.

  He calmed his mind and his temper by pouring the water in a bright yellow mug Genevieve had left behind and dunking a honey-vanilla chamomile teabag. When a nice, rich color had been achieved, he used a teaspoon to fish out the bag. He didn't bother with milk, honey, or lemon, already sensing that she'd drink tea like coffee--straight up. He wiped off the droplets on the side of the mug, grabbed a coaster, and brought it into the living room.

  "Drink this."

  She automatically reached out for the cup. "I don't like tea."

  "I know. But this will soothe your nerves."

  She sipped the steamy liquid. He waited. She looked up and nodded. "It's good."

  "Would you like a cookie to go with it? I have Stella D'oros in the pantry."

  "No, thank you." She sipped more of the tea. "How did your date go?"

  Nate sat down on the couch next to her, almost exactly as he'd positioned himself a few hours ago with Sue. Now, everything was different. "Not good. She didn't like Connor. I don't think I can see her again."

  She studied her cup for a while. "I was afraid she'd be too stiff. I'm sorry. Maybe you'd like to date Mary?"

  "Maybe."

  "I liked your brother. He needs some training on what to say and what not to say, but he's real. And he took care of you. He sticks with the people he loves. I like that."

  Dear God, help him. He was crazy about her. Just stick a fork in him and call it a day. Nate swallowed around the thick constriction in his throat. "Yeah. He's pretty cool once you get to know him. Guess your date didn't go too well either, huh?"

  Sh
e snorted out a half laugh. "Guess not. You really beat his ass."

  "Guess so."

  "I had no idea you could fight like that. You went all Bruce Lee and Fight Club on me."

  He fought a smile. "Nah, I didn't make those weird noises. It's easy. Body stature and strength are only a portion of success. It's mind-set, agility, and planning. Connor taught me the basics of how to defend myself. I came home with a broken arm one day from getting jumped, and after he drove me to the hospital, he took me straight to the gym. Showed me how to kick and use my natural abilities to fight. After that, I studied everything on martial arts and boxing and fine-tuned the process."

  "You always seem to surprise me, Nate Dunkle."

  "As do you, Kennedy Ashe."

  She looked up, startled. Must have spotted something scary in his eyes, because she bent over and busied herself with finishing her tea and setting it down carefully on the coaster. "I better go. Thanks for helping me out."

  "What happened?"

  She froze. Curled her fingers into fists before deliberately relaxing them. Her voice wobbled only slightly before she pulled it back, but he caught it. "Just a kiss that got out of hand. I'm embarrassed you had to see it. Let's forget about the whole episode."

  "You said no quite clearly. Why would you be embarrassed?"

  The first sign of temper flared. She lifted her chin as if trying to gain strength and get her badass back. "Because normally I would've taken care of it myself. I've mastered my own moves over the years. Something freaked me out and I--I--panicked. I hate that you got involved."

  "He almost hurt you. If I see him again, I'll kill him."

  Her mouth fell open. Those lips were soft and moist, reminding him of a ripe honeydew melon before that first bite. She seemed taken aback by the violence in his words, but it was another part of himself he kept hidden. Years of bullying and being dumped for the next best thing had caused a buildup of scar tissue. Nate learned how to compartmentalize, using logic and reason to keep in the light. But anyone who laid a hand on his woman would pay.

  His woman? What was happening to him?

  He dragged in a breath. His body was on high alert from the adrenaline, which usually translated into sexual arousal. Textbook. Not that it took much to get there with Kennedy in the room. It was a hotbed of emotions, and his dick was just responding to the overstimulation of the whole damn evening.

  "Don't say that. He said something to me. Stupid, I know, but it released a memory I wanted to forget."