by Elle James
“So, what’s keeping you two from doing all that?” Fiona asked.
“BODS.”
“What?” Fiona’s brow creased.
“Our match was a mistake. Our preferences don’t match. We’re so different.”
“When I took your meditation class, you talked about balance. For every action there’s a reaction. For things that are off balance, nature has a way of providing the balance. You were never off balance with Sam. You two were perfectly in balance.”
“Exactly. Which makes me and Dillon so wrong for each other.”
“Wrong,” Fiona said. “He leans one way, you lean the other, and in so doing, you create a perfect balance.”
Ariana laughed through her tears. “If only I’d applied that principle when we were on the boat.”
Fiona smiled. “Tell Leslie you’re not interested in another match. You and Dillon are perfect together.”
“I can’t,” Ariana said. “Dillon said he wouldn’t stand in my way. That means he’s not as committed to us as I am.”
“You’re putting words in that man’s mouth. That can never be a good thing. Why don’t you call and talk to him about it? There might be a perfectly good reason he said that to his sister.”
“I don’t want him to think I’m desperately clinging to him—God, though I want to. He could have anyone. Why would he want me?”
“Because you’re beautiful and kind,” Fiona said. “Any man would be lucky to have your heart. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“It’s hard not to. The man is loaded. Did you know that?” Ariana looked into her eyes. “He owns an entire top floor of an office building—and it’s just his in-town home.”
Fiona smiled. “That’s why it’s called BODS.”
Ariana’s brow dipped. “I don’t understand. I never could figure out what the B stood for.”
Fiona’s smile broadened. “Billionaire. As in Billionaire Online Dating Service. It’s an elite service just for people like Dillon, Coop and Gage, who have money, but don’t have the time or patience to weed through all the gold diggers to find a gem of a woman who will love them for themselves.”
Ariana sat back in her seat, her head spinning. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, ma’am,” Fiona patted her hand. “Leslie vets everyone she invites to enter their profiles into the BODS database. She trusts you and knows you would only date or marry someone for love, not money.”
“Frankly, the money thing intimidates the hell out of me,” Ariana admitted. “Maybe it’s right of Leslie to find me another match. I’d never want Dillon to think I love his money more than him.”
“You do love him, don’t you?” Fiona gave her a crooked grin. “And you’re thinking it’s too soon. For me…when I knew…I knew. Time only validated my suspicions.”
Ariana chewed on her bottom lip as she pondered her dilemma. “Still, if he wants me to give the BODS system another chance, so be it. He doesn’t care enough to fight for me. My feelings for him must be one-sided.”
“Seriously, you should talk to him. Sometimes, talking clears things up before they get blown out of proportion.”
“If he calls me tonight, I will,” Ariana promised. How she’d bring it up, she wasn’t quite sure, but she’d do it.
Emma poked her head into the conference room. “Fiona, could you help me for a moment. I need for you to reach something for me.”
Fiona glanced once more at Ariana. “Don’t give up, yet.” She looked up at Emma. “Coming.”
Ariana sat in the room by herself, pondering Fiona’s words. Should she fight for Dillon? Did he want her to? Was he bored and tired of their nightly chats?
She thought back. Dillon had initiated all of the phone calls. If he was tired of her, wouldn’t he just stop calling?
Her head hurt from all the second-guessing. She buried her face in her hands and applied pressure to the bridge of her nose. Why did falling in love have to be so damned hard?
The door opened and Ava returned, followed by Fiona, Emma and, finally, Leslie.
Leslie had a file folder in her hand. She set it on the smooth, dark surface of the conference table and tapped her finger on it. “Told you it wouldn’t be long before BODS found your match. Check him out.”
Ariana didn’t want to open the folder. The man inside on the profile wouldn’t be Dillon. She just wasn’t interested.
“Go on.” Emma leaned across the table and flipped the file open. “He’s good looking, is a certified public accountant and owns his own business. He likes yoga and going for long walks. And he likes cats. I sneaked a peek. He sounds perfect.”
“Perfect” was Dillon, a man she felt like she’d known forever even though she’d just met him in the dark.
Emma pointed to the man’s phone number. “Why don’t you text him and see if he wants to go to the firefighter fundraiser tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” Ariana hedged. “The fundraiser is an all-day event. I’d rather meet him for coffee. That way, if we don’t connect, I can leave, and neither of us will be stuck with each other’s company for hours.”
“True, but it’s for a good cause,” Emma said. “And the sooner you meet him, the sooner you’ll know whether he’s a fit.”
“Fine,” Ariana said. “I’ll text him.” She picked up her cellphone, praying Dillon would text her before she committed to a date with a complete stranger.
Dillon didn’t call or text before she sent a text to—she looked at the profile—Jared Hill.
Would you like to meet tomorrow in Hellfire at the firefighter fundraiser?
She prayed he’d be busy and not respond until after Dillon called that night. If he called.
Her cellphone vibrated with a text message.
“Is it him?” Emma asked, leaning closer.
With a frown puckering her brow, she looked down at the message from Jared.
Yes. What time and where?
Her heart pounded in her chest. Now, she had a date with a man she didn’t know while she was sure she was falling in love with one who wasn’t her match.
Why had Dillon decided she should meet her match?
“Here, let me answer him.” Emma keyed in a location and time and sent the text. “There you go. You’re all set for tomorrow. How exciting!”
Ariana couldn’t dredge up an excited bone in her entire body. “I guess I’d better get home and do the laundry, so I’ll have something to wear.” She rose from the table, looped her purse over her shoulder and gave all the ladies a hug before exiting the room. All the way down the elevator to the garage level, she regretted her decision to let BODS choose another match for her. She didn’t want another match. If she couldn’t be with Dillon, she’d rather be alone.
Now, she was stuck with a date for a day in Hellfire.
To end a perfectly awful day, Dillon didn’t call her that night.
Chapter 12
Dillon parked his truck in a space in a field directed by volunteers in bright yellow vests. He’d worked late the night before and hadn’t gone to bed until well after midnight. Too late to call Ariana, even if she’d wanted to talk to him. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t feel much like talking anyway.
Mid-afternoon the day before, Emma had called to say Ariana had opted to meet her BODS match. Dillon had felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. When Emma had pushed again for him to meet his, he’d told her, “whatever.” And “whatever” to Emma meant she could do what she wanted. And she wanted him to meet his BODS match.
“Just in case she’s the woman of your dreams,” Emma had said in a gratingly cheerful tone.
“Whatever,” he’d repeated, not in the mood to talk to his sister, or anyone else for that matter.
The woman haunting his dreams was a petite little redhead who’d never ridden a horse or successfully landed a fish.
Later that afternoon, Emma had called him back. “Her name is Melanie Armstrong. She’s five-feet-nine, brunette with brown eyes. L
oves the outdoors, rides horses, runs marathons and is a personal trainer.”
Great. She’d run circles around him and want him to run with her. He jogged, but not any farther than a couple of miles at a time. He didn’t have the time to dedicate to run marathons.
“Oh, and I set it up that you two will meet at the Hellfire firefighter fundraiser. That way you don’t have to worry about coming up with private conversations. You can just go enjoy the day and get to know each other in a casual environment.”
“I’m thrilled,” he responded.
Emma laughed. “You should be. She’s ticks off every preference you listed.”
“Damned list,” he muttered.
“What was that you said?” Emma asked.
“Nothing. What time are we meeting?”
“In the parking lot at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” Emma said. “And Ariana will be there with her date. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind?” Dillon barked. “She can go wherever the hell she likes.”
“I thought maybe you two were getting thick,” Emma said. “Though that doesn’t make sense at all. You two weren’t meant to match. You have nothing in common.”
“Yeah. So you say.”
“Do you doubt BODS?” Emma asked.
“I never completely bought into the idea that a computer program could pick a mate for me.”
“You’ll be pleasantly surprised tomorrow. I’m sure,” Emma replied.
“Yeah. Gotta go. The plumbing just exploded somewhere.”
“God, I hope not,” Emma had said. “See you tomorrow.”
So, here it was ten o’clock on Saturday, and he was going to meet a woman he had no desire to meet when he’d rather be with a woman who was meeting a man Dillon didn’t know but wanted to slug in the face.
Yeah, his mood wasn’t great, but it was all he had.
He climbed down from his truck, checked the BODS app on his phone for a photograph of Melanie Armstrong so that he could recognize her when he saw someone who looked like her.
Tall, dark and slender.
When he looked around the parking lot for a dark-haired woman, his gaze was drawn to a bright splash of red hair. Ariana? She stood by herself next to her vehicle, looking around the parking lot just like him.
He willed her to turn his way as he walked toward her. She didn’t. Instead, she smiled and waved at a dark-haired, athletic man striding toward her.
Dillon’s footsteps faltered, and he ground to a stop as Ariana held out her hand to the man and he smiled at her. He wore nice khaki trousers and a white polo shirt. He looked like a man who was comfortable in a boardroom or in a gym.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Dillon Jacobs?” a female voice said from behind him.
He turned to face a beautiful dark-haired woman with brown eyes. She wore form-fitting yoga pants, running shoes and a light blue tank top that fit her slender body to perfection Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and her makeup was minimal and tasteful. She was just the kind of woman Dillon would have taken out on a date…before Ariana.
Now, all he could think about was how soon he could ditch her and head out to the ranch. He needed to muck stalls or ride out to the farthest pasture and pound some fence posts, anything to take his mind off another man putting his hands on Ariana’s petite body.
He forced a smile for the woman. “Yes, I’m Dillon.”
She held out her hand. “Melanie Armstrong.”
When he took her hand in his, she squeezed hard, as if she had something to prove.
Dillon returned the pressure, a degree lighter. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same. Thanks for picking a public location. You never know who you’ll meet with dating services.”
Dillon raised his eyebrows. “You do many of the dating apps?”
She shrugged. “I’ve tried a few. Leslie says hers is different. I hope so.” She tilted her chin toward the tents, fire trucks and equipment displays. “This looks like fun. Leslie said there’s games and competitions. I wouldn’t mind joining. Where can we sign up?”
“They usually have the signup sheets at the fire station.” He looked over her shoulder in the direction he’d seen Ariana. She was gone.
Just as well, he didn’t need to ruin her date by staring at them all day.
“Come on, I’ll show you where it is.” He led the say to the station where they signed up for the tug of war, adding their names to a team halfway full. They also signed up for the three-legged race and the egg race.
“The tug of war is first,” Mel said. “We should go find our team. We’re on number five.”
They found Team 5 and lined up alongside a rope stretched across a pit of mud.
“I didn’t know they were going to get serious about this.” Dillon looked skeptically at the pit. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“I read the descriptions of the events and came dressed to play.” She smiled and lifted the rope. “Let’s do this.”
The other team fell in beside their end of the rope. When Dillon looked across at their competition, he had to swallow a groan.
Ariana and her date were in the middle of the team, holding the rope.
Her date gripped the rope like he knew what he was doing.
Dillon sized up both teams and smiled. His team had it in the bag. At the last minute, a woman joined his team. Okay. They had this, no problem.
The referee stepped up to the rope and settled a whistle between his lips. Before he could blow, another man approached the opposing team.
Dillon and his team groaned.
The man had to be six feet seven, if not taller, and probably weighed over three hundred pounds. He took a position at the end of their line and grabbed the rope in his big, meaty hands.
“It’s about to get interesting,” Mel said with a grin. “I hope you don’t mind getting dirty.”
The referee blew the whistle, and the teams leaned backward, digging their feet into the ground.
With the big guy on the other end, Dillon’s team didn’t stand a chance.
Inch by inch, Team 5 lost ground, although they fought valiantly.
The front member of the team soon approached the mud pit.
The big guy in the back of the other team, turned around, readjusted his grip and marched away from the pit, dragging along his team and Team 5. He didn’t stop until all of Team 5 toppled into the pit, sinking into mud up to their knees.
Mel laughed, wiping mud from her face. She smiled at Dillon. “You’re not muddy enough.” She slung mud at him.
He ducked and the mud hit one of his other team members, and a mud fight ensued.
When he looked around for Ariana, she and her date had disappeared.
“That was fun,” Mel said, mud in her hair and on her arms and light blue tank top. “What’s next?”
“I believe the egg race is next.” He wished they hadn’t signed up for so many. He had to stay to finish the games when all he wanted to do was apologize to Mel, tell her it would never work out between them and then leave.
He walked with Mel to the next station where the egg race was to take place.
Mel leaned in as the referee explained the nature of the game.
One of a pair of competitors would place an egg between his or her chin and chest, run twenty yards to the other member of the pair and pass the egg without using their hands. The other person would run back to where the first person started.
Couples lined up on either side of the short field. Ariana joined the opposite line, picking a spot next to Mel. Her gaze met Dillon’s as her date stepped into position beside Dillon.
Mel and Ariana were given raw eggs. They tucked them beneath their chins and waited.
The referee blew the whistle, and the ladies were off, running with their heads down toward Dillon and Ariana’s date.
Others along the line dropped their eggs and fell out of the competition.
Ar
iana made it across the twenty yards to where her date stood a few seconds before Mel arrived in front of Dillon.
The swapping of the egg from one person to the other meant getting close. Really close, in order to get chins and chests in the game to make the transfer.
Dillon tried to focus on the egg beneath Mel’s chin, but he was distracted by Ariana’s date laughing as he tried to grab the egg with his chin.
“You got it?” Mel asked.
Dillon grabbed her shoulders and leaned sideways to get his chin beneath hers. “I think I have it,” he said between gritted teeth.
Had Mel been Ariana, he would have stolen a kiss before he grabbed the egg. Hell, he might have said screw the egg and thrown the race just to get to kiss her longer.
He heard Ariana’s squeal beside him and lost his concentration at the same time as Mel released her chin-hold on the egg.
The egg slipped.
Dillon grabbed for it with his chin and crushed it between his chin and chest getting raw egg goo all over his polo shirt.
Mel laughed. “Good effort,” she said. “Now, we’re a pair,” she said, waving a hand toward his egg-covered shirt and hers, which was smeared with mud.
A soft gasp beside him made him glance toward Ariana. She had egg on her shirt and chin. Her date had yet to get anything on him. The volunteers handed out paper towels to the contestants. Ariana’s date offered to wipe the egg off her shirt, but she took the towel from him and did it herself.
“Dillon, I’m so glad we caught up with you,” Emma called out. She and Coop approached with Tag and Leslie trailing after them. After giving Dillon a head-to-toe glance, Emma grinned. “I take it you aren’t fairing so well in the games.”
“You could say that,” Dillon said, forcing a smile.
Emma spotted Ariana, and stepped over to where she stood, working the egg out of her shirt. “Ariana, I don’t think you’ve met Coop and Tag. Come and introduce us to your date.” She hooked Ariana’s arm and brought her and her date over to the others.