Searching for Perfect

four

NATE EYED THE bright red door with suspicion, but his eager guide for the evening gave him no time to think. Just pushed him through until he popped into an empty waiting room. The lights were dim, and there was only one large counter set up. No magazines, no water, no snacks. When he’d first heard he was going to a spa, he figured a little pampering couldn’t be so bad. Images of hot towels, long fragrant massages, and a beautiful woman rubbing his feet flickered in his head. But this was a dump.

Located on the edge of Verily, hidden up a steep hill, there seemed to be neither foot traffic nor pedestrians. Just a broken-down building with a bright red door. Elizabeth Arden it was not. How did this place get clients?

Kennedy motioned for him to take a seat as she walked up to the desk. The woman frowned at her instead of giving her a welcoming smile and launched into a tirade in heavily accented Chinese. Kennedy listened, nodded a lot, and basically seemed to try to suck up to her. What type of establishment was this? If this was the type of business Kinnections patronized, he may have made a terrible mistake.

Kennedy did a slight bow and returned. Sweat beaded her brow. “Thank God. Ming will see us.”

“Who is this person? There’s no customer service. No nice amenities. And they seem rude. We should leave.”

She dropped her voice to a fierce hiss. “You do not make any negative comments. One complaint and we’ll get thrown out. Ming is the best, and she’ll return you back to normal. Above normal, actually. You’ll never be the same.”

His unease grew. He pulled at his lab coat and noticed the new stain of mustard on his lapel from eating lunch at his desk. Again. It had been hell getting out on time, but he was looking forward to beginning his journey toward his future wife. Who would’ve thought it would begin in a crappy underground dungeon with a woman named Ming?

“What is she going to do to me?”

Kennedy pointed a finger at him. “Whatever she wants. You need to follow all her instructions exactly. This is very important.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“No, but you like to argue, and that will get us thrown out.”

He had no time to respond. The door behind the desk swung open without a sound. He caught an impression of an elfin figure dressed in a Japanese robe, shrouded in shadow. One long, bony finger drifted out and beckoned him forward.

“Go,” Kennedy whispered.

Crap, why was he scared? A little old lady couldn’t hurt him, and if he didn’t like anything, he’d just walk out, no matter what Kennedy said. He straightened his shoulders and stepped through the door.

She led him down a dim hallway. The small woman moved lightning fast, practically floating over the ground as they turned right and made their way deeper into a maze of unending hallways. He itched to throw bread crumbs or mark a wall to find his way back, but there was no time. He stumbled twice just keeping up. Finally, she stopped and entered an unmarked door.

A long, flat limestone table took up the center of the room. Towels were placed around the site, and a luxurious open glass shower was set up in the corner. The walls were a pristine white and bare of decoration except for a few shelves that displayed an array of glass bottles. Music drifted softly from the speakers. He caught a flute, birdcalls, and the sound of rushing water. The air was moist and smelled of clean soap and the faintness of lavender. Ming headed toward a small bamboo-type desk with a large white basin and began prepping. Nate watched as she busied herself like a doctor preparing shots, lining up jumbo-size containers and pouring liquid in. Finally, she turned and faced him.

“You get naked.”

“What?”

The top of her head didn’t even hit his chest. Her bare feet peeked out from underneath the white robe that seemed to swallow her whole. Black hair was cropped close to her head, and her dark eyes snapped impatience and command. “I say get naked. Then lie on table.”

Nate held on to his lab coat and shoved down the panic. Naked? In front of her? Hell, no. “Um, can I leave my T-shirt and boxers on? I’m not very comfortable removing all my clothes.”

She spit in his direction. Sheer disgust marked her face. “You big baby? You no get naked for old woman? What you so afraid of?”

He jerked back. “I’m not scared! I just don’t think I need to.”

Ming took a step forward and wagged her finger in the air. “You orange. You look like carrot. I fix you, but you listen to me. Now get naked and lie on table on stomach.”

Kennedy’s words flashed in his mind. This was his first test. How could he fail already? And he was orange. Even Wayne agreed today that he should do something because it was distracting his concentration. He had hoped it would go away, but after four days, it still hadn’t faded. Was he really nervous about a professional seeing him without clothes? No, he refused to let her win this round by acting like a child. Women did this stuff all the time, right?

“Fine.” He took off all his clothes, folded them neatly, and placed them on an unoccupied shelf. The table was smooth and cool as he stretched out on his stomach, and his head was cushioned by a soft mat. He turned his head to the right, closed his eyes, and tried not to think of his naked ass up in the air for Ming to view.

He waited a while, breathing and listening to the flute, and began to relax. Steam began to rise up in the room and opened his pores. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. A massage was something he really needed for his neck and back. Long hours spent stationary had tied him in knots. Maybe he’d even get in a bit of a nap. He figured—

“Aghgh!”

A mass of cold liquid was dumped on his back, trickling down his rear. Before he could process, a thousand stiff bristles worked its way over his skin, the rough back-and-forth motions scraping him and causing a mixture of tickling and pain, until he twisted around and batted it out of the way. “That hurts!”

“Be quiet.”

He gasped. She scrubbed harder, completely disregarding his tiny yelps as she worked every inch of his skin, from the soles of his feet, ass, back, shoulders, and even his armpits. His skin tingled and burned, and the tiny beads of gel caused an abrasion that he swore would mark him for life. Dear God, he was going to have scars! She had no idea what she was doing, and seemed to even chuckle menacingly the few times he jumped and tried to wriggle away from the brush of doom.

The torture went on forever, until she muttered something and finally stopped. He dropped his head to the table and panted. Okay, he’d done it. The orange must be off. Maybe he’d get to recover and use that fabulous shower. The worst had to be behind him. He heard a few clicks, the drag of metal, and was just about to lift his head to see what was going on when the spray hit him.

The icy cold, bone-chilling spray, that is.

“Shit!” He jerked up, but she pushed him back down on the table with hard hands. The spray wasn’t a gentle rain shower; it was more like a fire extinguisher filled with ice cubes hitting him at full power. He shivered under the stinging nettles and moaned softly under his breath. That’s when he knew it was going to be a long night. She hosed him down thoroughly, not missing an inch, the intense pressure of the spray not allowing him any relief.

He slumped over when it finally stopped. He should get out of here. Walk away, call the Better Business Bureau, and bring her up on charges of assault. He thought of all the ways he’d get even with Ming while she clattered around behind him with something else, and he held his breath.

Ah. Warm, fragrant oil dribbled on his back and leaked over his spine. Heaven. His muscles finally relaxed. Maybe it was worth it to get to the good stuff? Nate imagined strong, nimble fingers working out the kinks in his lower back and neck and—

With a wild war cry, a hundred pounds of flesh slammed onto his back. In horror, he realized she’d jumped on top of him, and was stomping on his back with her bare feet.

“What are you doing?” he yelled, but she ignored him, doing some crazy dance routine and grinding her toes and soles of her feet into the sensitive skin of his ripped-up back. She worked her way up and down his body, her heels hard and demanding, twisting deep into different muscle knots until he bit his lip to keep from screaming in agony. Nate bit his tongue and silently cursed her and her children, prayed for revenge, and begged for mercy. He swore she wouldn’t win, wouldn’t break him. He’d survive this with his head held high and then he’d laugh at her for thinking she could destroy him.

As seconds turned to minutes, he got lost in a daze. Finally, she jumped gracefully off him, her robe flapping, and leaned over him. Her bright smile reminded him of the Joker from Batman before he struck. “Turn over.”

He shook his head, which wobbled on his almost broken neck. “No, no turn over.”

Ming cackled again, the wild gleam in her dark eyes scaring the crap out of him. “You big baby. I fix you. I do front now.”

“No.”

Her lips pulled back and she spit something out in Chinese.

“Fine! But I swear if you hurt me again, you will not get a tip!”

She helped roll him over. Nate looked at the ceiling with his most sensitive part out on display, ready to be tortured, and prayed for it to be over.

Time passed in a blur. When she jumped on his stomach, Nate was grateful she avoided his dick, which would probably never get an erection again after Ming was done with him. When she informed him there was to be one more round on each side, Nate gave up. He lost consciousness somewhere during the second round.

After his body, Ming moved to the head of the table and worked on his face. At least she couldn’t jump on it. Still, her deft, firm fingers left no feature unexplored until his cheeks and jaws actually ached.

He was wrung out and exhausted when she finally allowed him to rise. He felt vulnerable, raw, and weak as a newborn kitten. He leaned a bit on her as she guided him into the shower and turned on the water. The hot spray was heaven, gentle and soothing, and she gave him a musky type of soap that lathered and wrapped him in bubbles. He took a long time in the shower and dried off with a fluffy towel. Ming came over and wrapped him in a terrycloth robe, tying the sash nice and tight, and led him to a small bench. He winced when she took a hairbrush, but she brushed back his long strands of hair from his forehead in long, soothing strokes that massaged his scalp. He relaxed into her ministrations. The music drifted over him, and no one spoke. When he finally opened his eyes, her face was right in front of him. She smiled, but this time it didn’t strike him as evil.

“You good boy.” She patted his cheek. “No more orange. You sit here a bit then come out when you ready.”

She placed the brush down and left.

He had one last thought before he allowed himself to drift away for just one more minute.

Ming had definitely won.

NATE BIT INTO HIS cheeseburger and admitted that Mugs could be his new favorite place. The bar restaurant was casual, giving off a rustic appeal with wooden booths nicely offset by a large modern bar. The attached poolroom held tables, darts, and a variety of other fun games. The beer list was pretty damn impressive for a quaint town, where organic everything and chai lattes usually ruled. He swiped a fry in a pool of ketchup and savored the salty bite.

Kennedy had taken one look at his expression after Ming time and declared the need for food. He’d followed her back into Verily without protest, and after a cold microbrew and some red meat, the strange floaty bubbly feeling had finally popped.

“Why did you ask for a Clorox wipe for the tables?” she asked. “Didn’t you trust them to clean it properly?”

He focused on his burger. “Waitresses get busy and don’t bring a sterile cloth. Food slips off the plate and unconsciously you scoop it up, eat it, and come down with E. coli poisoning.”

“You’re a certified germaphobe, aren’t you? How bad?”

“I’m not gonna do a Jack Nicholson imitation from As Good as It Gets, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just like to follow proper hygiene in bathrooms and public restaurants.” He decided to change the subject rather than linger on another one of his issues. “That woman was horrible,” he said. “Have you ever had a client sue because of her?”

She tossed him a smug smile. “They’re too afraid to bring a lawsuit. Besides, Ming’s the best. Look at yourself. Not a smidge of orange, and your skin is practically glowing with health. I bet your muscles feel like limp noodles, too.”

“Not really.” He ducked his head so she wouldn’t see the lie reflected in his gaze. “But at least I look normal again.”

They ate in silence for a bit, but a roar from outside made a few patrons look up. “Sounds like a storm out there.”

“Yeah, we haven’t had rain in a while.”

A blob of ketchup fell on his pants to match the mustard on his lapel. He cursed his innate clumsiness and grabbed a few napkins. Kennedy pushed her lettuce around her plate. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Hmm, she looked cranky. Odd, she’d been fine till his burger arrived. As usual, he opened his mouth and his thoughts spilled out. “Why did you order that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because it’s healthy.”

“Actually, too much roughage in the body can throw off your digestive system. Want a bite of my burger?” Her eyes lit up with sheer lust. Nate shifted in his seat. Damn, the woman was potent. He wondered what would happen if she ever looked at him like that. As if. “You probably need some protein.”

Her fingers clenched her fork in a death grip. She took a dainty sip of water with lemon. “I have tuna as my protein.”

He investigated the pile of lettuce and found a few dry pieces of fish scattered around. “Oh. No mayo?”

She glared.

“Are you one of those vegans? Or allergic to gluten or something?”

She stuck a leaf in her mouth and chewed. Nate felt sorry for her. Her usual vibrancy seemed to stagnate as soon as she got around food. As if her healthy choices sucked all the joy out of her. “No. I follow a strict balance to ensure good nutrition. Please don’t tell me you eat like this normally?”

He finished his burger and swallowed it down with a sip of beer. “No. I don’t mind eating healthy, as long as I allow myself a few vices. I try to stay away from fast food, but I’m a terrible cook, so I do eat out a lot. You don’t need to diet.”

A strange sound emitted from her lips. “I’m not on a diet.”

A crucial piece of information danced around his consciousness. Something that would solve a bit of the puzzle that made up this woman. “Good. Your body is amazing.”

Darkness stole over her features, seeming to capture her inner light momentarily. “Thanks.”

He could tell she didn’t believe it. Not one word. And there was something bigger there, underneath, buried so deep he wondered if anyone had ever discovered it. Like a physics equation, she begged for a solution, and he longed to be the one to find it. Of course, that’s why he sucked with people. He had no social filter and followed no rules. He dug until he hit dirt, by which point the person was usually so pissed at him he or she stalked off. Yep. He was a real winner.

“Do you ever let go and have something that’s bad for you?”

She pulled those luscious lips back and snarled. “Why don’t we move our attention from fries and concentrate on you? Now that you have the correct skin color again, we need to practice a bit on social conversation.”

“Nothing wrong with getting to the heart of a person. It doesn’t waste time.” His damp hair kept sliding in his face, so he pulled a rubber band from his pocket protector and tied it quickly back.

“Initial trust is built from the first dialogue. You’ll ruin it by mentioning sex, bodily parts, or making judgments on childbearing age, fear of commitment, or career choice.”

He frowned. “What do I have left to talk about?”

She smiled. A tiny piece of green lettuce stood out within her incisor. Her lipstick had rubbed off from the napkin. A vibrant intensity beat from her figure in waves. Today she wore a black lace shirt, short red skirt, and red pumps. She’d shrugged off her red jacket and he spotted an upper arm bracelet. The gold cuff reminded him of something a slave girl would wear. He glimpsed the black matching lace of her bra peeking out. He’d read a story once where the hero sucked the heroine’s nipples for an hour and made her come. Nate wondered if any of her lovers had ever treated her to such attention. Wondered if she’d be greedy, noisy, active. If she were his, he’d concentrate on wiping out every word in the English language from her mind so that she only moaned and whimpered his name.

His pants tightened to a painful degree. Down, boy. Never gonna happen in this lifetime. He had better get used to it. And stop reading those damn books.

“There are a million other topics to pick from,” she said. “We’ll practice now. Pretend we just met and decided to have dinner. What would you say to me?”

“You have a piece of lettuce stuck in your teeth.”

She blanched, and then placed her tongue over her teeth and sucked hard. “Is it gone?”

Damn, she was hot. “Yes. Gone.”

“Okay, that’s what I mean. You definitely want to let a woman know if she has something on her that could embarrass her, but you need to learn subtlety. A touch of your napkin to your mouth. A gentle smile and a tap of your finger over your teeth.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. But if I had something in my teeth or toilet paper stuck somewhere, don’t waste my time. Tell me.”

“Noted. Aren’t you going to have the last few fries?”

“No, here.” He pushed the plate across the table. “There’s only three. Live a little.”

She squirmed in her seat as if about to make the biggest decision of her life. Then palmed the three fries and began to nibble. The salt seemed to make her happy. A hazy glow of satisfaction came over her. Surrendering to her desires seemed to please her. Nate had a dozen other ways he’d like to make that look appear on her features, but he stopped himself from thinking about them—after all, she had flat-out refused to go out with him. Why would sleeping with him invoke any other response?

“Thanks,” she said, gesturing toward the fries. “Back to role-play. We just sat down and ordered. Let’s talk.”

She sucked on the fry as if intent on getting every last taste of salt from the murdered potato. Unfortunately, the distraction of her pink tongue, crooked tooth, and long, tapered fingers slammed another type of image into his brain. What was up with him? He needed to get laid fast, or he was just going to humiliate himself with her for the long term. “Umm, do you live around here?”

“Manhattan. How about you?”

“Westchester. Umm, do you have any hobbies?”

She sucked harder. “Yeah, I go to the gym three times a week. How about you?”

“I enjoy golf.”

“Oh, I’ve never played golf.”

He straightened up in his chair. “The sport is the perfect combination of skill and challenge. The swing is the key to success in the game, but it can be fine-tuned and changed to fit the individual. Tiger Woods actually spent more than a year completely redoing his swing in order to become a different type of golfer. Imagine the rush of watching the ball sail through the air and land perfectly on the green! Exciting, right?”

She finished the fries, and twirled her straw around in her glass. “Not really.”

Nate glared. “I don’t like this conversation. Let’s just admit we’re not suited for the long term.”

“Right there!” She jumped from her seat and pointed her index finger at him. “That’s where the breakdown occurs. You, Nate Dunkle, are a selfish conversationalist!”

He pushed his glasses up his nose. “What? I asked questions. She had no interest in me! She was bored by my explanation of golf.”

“And so am I. That doesn’t mean we couldn’t be the perfect match. You just don’t want to take the time and effort to dig deeper. You need to get out of your own ego and focus on her.”

Irritation coursed through him. “You make me sound like an ass. I dig. I scored high on the surveys in Cosmo!”

She gave a snort. “Those surveys are fixed and give no helpful information. If a woman doesn’t agree with what you say in the first five minutes, you declare her incompetent for a long-term relationship. She doesn’t like golf. Big deal. How about asking what she does like and why? Don’t you enjoy figuring things out at your job? People are the same. They’re puzzles, made up of various pieces that need analyzing and understanding. You throw them away too easily if they don’t fit your idea of what you want in a spouse, and you’re going to regret it.” Something flickered in her eyes. A memory? Was she talking about herself?

“Fine. Reset. But this time, just be you. Don’t pretend to be someone else.”

“I don’t think—”

“I do.” He studied her for a while. Took in her high forehead, the sweep of caramel-colored hair tumbling past her shoulders. Her face was a collection of interesting angles that fascinated him. Her pupils dilated as if his stare were an actual caress, and the color darkened to a deep whiskey. “What made you get into matchmaking?”

He waited her out. Finally, she gave up and took another sip of water. “Kate and Arilyn were my two best friends in college. After graduation, we went our separate ways for a while but ended up getting drunk one night and came up with the idea to start our own matchmaking agency. Kate is the overall director, Arilyn handles the computer stuff and counseling, and I do the recruitment and social events.”

“Most drunken ideas are forgotten come morning.”

The memory sparked a smile. “Not us. We nursed our hangovers and immediately began researching.”

“Smart. It’s hard to start a small business lately. Have you been successful?”

“Yep. Our marriage stats are increasing every day, and we’re finally seeing a steady profit.”

He smiled a bit at the raw pride in her voice. She had guts. Not many dove into the deep end, let alone swam without drowning. “Why Verily?”

“We didn’t want to compete with the big agencies in Manhattan. Verily is unique enough to be small-town but cosmopolitan, and we cater to a specific demographic. Only ages twenty-five to forty.”

“Interesting. That doesn’t limit your customer base?”

“No, it was a risky move, but we wanted a certain niche. We studied that market and became known for our elite clientele.”

“Millionaires only?”

She rolled her eyes. “You too? Has everyone seen that show? No, as long as you’re happy in your chosen work and heading toward a goal, it’s acceptable. Money isn’t the target. Love is.”

Nate loved the way she lit up when speaking about Kinnections. He adored confident women. Kennedy not only loved her job but she also served a higher purpose. She believed she was making the world a better place. Cliché, maybe. Sexy as hell, definitely.

“Have you taken on a client like me before? Worked with them so closely?”

“No, you’re my first.”

She stared back at him, and a crackle of awareness lit up the air. Her hand trembled around her glass, then steadied.

The anger he felt at her response took him by surprise. He sat across from a beautiful woman who was intelligent, funny, and out of his league. The words tumbled out of his mouth.

“Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

Kennedy flinched as the thinly veiled accusation hit her ears. She studied Nate closely—brown eyes lit with fire, hidden behind those ridiculous glasses. A mustard stain prominently displayed on his lapel. The pocket protector with two perfectly sharpened pencils, a tiny notepad, and calculator wedged inside, screaming The Big Bang Theory meets Revenge of the Nerds. He sat in complete stillness and waited for her response.

A strange surge of emotions roared up from her gut. How odd. The way he looked at her, his gaze probing, urged her to tell the truth. She could pull a lot of stock answers from her arsenal and never let him get closer. But something had changed, and with his question demanded honesty. She struggled and tried to keep it light. “No, of course not.”

“Bullshit.” He leaned in, a touch of masculine temper giving him an edge she hadn’t glimpsed before. “Am I just your little pet project to keep you from getting bored, Kennedy? A beauty-and-the-beast makeover special? Should I be grateful you picked me, shut my mouth, and just go with the program?”

“No!” Her blood heated at the attack, and she barely managed to stay in her chair. “I can’t believe you would think so little of this whole process.”

“I’m not a process.”

“I know!”

“Stop giving me your standardized answers and tell me the truth. Why me?”

“Because I needed someone to believe in!”

His mouth opened and his eyes flared, and suddenly she felt smothered, as if he had wrapped his energy around her and squeezed. She tried to look away and break the intensity, but he didn’t allow her, just slid his hand across the table and interweaved his fingers with hers.

“Thank you for telling me.”

His thumb pressed into her palm. Her pulse picked up, yet her body felt sluggish. She shook her head and tried to figure out her reaction, but the waitress glided by, placed the check on the table, and mercifully, he released her hand.

“I gotta go,” she said.

“Yeah, me, too. I’ll walk you out.” He put cash on the table and cut off her protest before she even opened her mouth. She allowed him to pay again, and they stepped out the side door near the parking lot.

Torrents of rain whipped in a fury, and the dark sky lit up with jagged streaks of lightning. She looked down at her high heels and held back a groan. Great. Good-bye, designer shoes. They’d be a muddy mess by the time she got to her car.

He stood with her on the edge of the sidewalk covered by the awning. “Better wait it out a bit,” he shouted over the roar of the storm. “You’ll get drenched, and we don’t have an umbrella.”

A pool of water dripped from the gutter and sprayed her in the face. She jumped back and yelped, but Nate had already pulled her closer to the door and blocked the brunt of the storm with his body. Her back pressed against the brick wall. The rain pounded the awning and she shivered from the damp. He quickly shrugged off his lab coat and tucked it around her, grabbing the sleeves in the front and dragging her close to his chest. The deliciousness of his body warmth enveloped her, and she softened against him.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I can’t see a damn thing. Stupid glasses.” He slid them off and stuck them in the pocket protector. “I’m sure it’ll ease off in a minute. It’s never this strong for too long.”

“Probably.”

He didn’t smell of pine or ocean today. Instead, his natural male scent rose to her nostrils and swarmed her senses. Clean soap, rain, and a hint of some spice. Cloves? She tipped her chin up to compliment him on getting rid of the cologne, then froze.

His eyes weren’t brown, as she had originally thought, but a deep moss green, with flecks of gold. With his hair pulled back, she noted the strong lines of his face, placed together in an almost beautiful symmetry she’d overlooked before. His lips were perfectly formed, the top a bit thinner and defined, the lower one generous and lush. His mouth looked soft. She wondered what his lips would feel like over hers.

“Ken?”

Her name ripped from those lips in a husky growl. She blinked and tried to find her footing, startled by his referring to her so intimately, but not entirely sure she minded. “Yeah?”

“What about us?”

Brain alert. She tried to break the weird spell, but he slid his hands up to cup her cheeks and thunder shook the ground, and somehow his body was pressed tight against hers. He engulfed her with a quiet, intense presence that demanded her response. As though on cue, her body lit up and begged for more. She grew damp between her thighs, and her nipples hardened to tight little points, and within those few seconds, she was completely turned on by her geek rocket scientist.

“There is no us. I’m your matchmaker.”

Her victory of sane speech was short-lived. Those thumbs stroked under her jaw and began to trace the lines of her mouth. The fascinated, intense look on his face thrilled her. Had a man ever looked at her so . . . hungrily? As if he craved to feast on her for hours without end? A shiver bumped through her.

“Eliza and Professor Higgins hooked up at the end of the movie.”

What was he talking about? Her heart beat so loudly she heard it over the raging storm. Oh, My Fair Lady. “You saw that movie?”

His mouth quirked. “Of course. I watched a bunch of so-called chick flicks and classic musicals to study the female mind and what she may find romantic.”

Holy crap, she couldn’t make him up if she tried. She dragged her tongue across her dry lips and watched his eyes light up with intent. Uh-oh. “They were terrible for each other. He didn’t respect her enough.”

“Yes, he did. Once she woke him up to the possibility of a match, he was done. He loved her from the first. He just didn’t know it yet.”

Oh, she was in trouble. She clawed for sanity, but his thumb pressed against her now damp lips and slipped inside just an inch to touch the tip of her tongue. The move was so damn sexy she forgot her clever response to his statement. She was an accomplished flirt, dated a wide variety of men, and knew every maneuver to block an unwanted kiss or touch like a black belt. Yet, here she stood outside of Mugs like a helpless virgin, waiting for him to do something she didn’t want.

“Ken?”

“Huh?”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Agreed.” He lowered his head so his breath struck her mouth. “Don’t care.”

His kiss broke all barriers without violence, urgency, or crazed passion. He simply claimed her mouth completely without question. His big hands cradled her face and his tongue slipped inside like he belonged there. Whisper-soft lips melded to hers and sipped at her essence, savoring every smooth thrust, exploring each hidden corner and bestowing sweet pleasure. She moaned under the sensual assault and asked for more. His fingers tangled in her hair and tipped her head farther back while he drank, tasted, demanded, gave. Her head spun and her knees weakened, and in that one moment, Kennedy fell completely under his spell.

He retreated slowly, nipping at her lower lip before pulling completely away.

Kennedy gripped his arms. Whoa.

Just . . . whoa.

Most men would’ve gone for the jugular and pushed past her temporary weakness to their advantage. Nate waited patiently while she got her bearings. He studied her face as if committing every feature and angle to memory, and once again she got the sensation of being wrapped in a cocoon of security and warmth. “You okay?”

“Yep. That was a mistake.”

“We learn from lots of mistakes. Can we do it again?”

A tiny laugh escaped. The last of the fog drifted away, and the rain slowed to a lazy drizzle. Kennedy dug deep for composure. She fought the urge to duck her head, and instead met his heated gaze head-on. “No. I don’t date clients.”

“I’ll quit Kinnections.”

“Absolutely not. You don’t want me, Nate. I don’t do forever. I’m not looking for marriage or security or children right now. I just do . . . now.”

“I like now.”

A genuine smile curved her lips. She hadn’t actually liked a man in a long, long time. She forgot how good it felt. “No. Sometimes the lines get blurred with matchmaking, but I won’t let it happen again. We followed an impulse, but now it’s over. And I’m going to find you a wife. Someone you can love forever. Someone perfect.”

He seemed to analyze her words, picking them apart, studying, then sliding them all back into place to discover the full puzzle. Finally, he took a step back and nodded. “I won’t push. I respect your decision. But I won’t apologize.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want one.” The heat surged again between them but she was prepared this time and able to ignore it. “The rain stopped. I better go. Don’t forget to meet me at the salon tomorrow night. Six sharp. I emailed you the address.”

“Okay. Good night.”

He gave her freedom and she took it. By the time she reached her car and turned on the ignition, she looked back and he was gone. She made the short drive home and finally stepped into her trendy apartment. The silence soothed her raw nerves, and she went room by room, switching on the lights so there wasn’t a slither of darkness. She kicked off her heels and dug her feet into the plush carpet. Rich wood floors were the new style, but she had no pets or children, and enjoyed the feeling of the cushioning on her bare feet. The deep vanilla cream matched the walls and contrasted nicely with the ice blue furnishings. She always enjoyed a clean, clutter-free environment, and structured the modern glass and cherry wood tables to balance the vivid watercolor paintings she preferred.

She grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the stainless steel fridge. She liked to cook when she had the time, and the bold steel blue granite counters, custom cabinets, and antique wine bar reflected the image and woman she always craved to be. Beautiful. Smart. In control.

Kennedy sipped her water and thought about Nate. Big mistake. It may have been the best kiss of her life, but she’d seriously overstepped her boundaries. Funny: she’d dated numerous men, slept with many, and never had the feeling one saw her clearly. The way Nate stared at her with unblinking eyes warned her of his intentions. His kiss allowed her to hold back nothing, like an unstoppable force urging her to surrender. He devoured her with his gaze and swallowed her whole. The real danger with Nate was in his ability to see beyond her surface polish to the truth.

A shiver worked down her spine. Silly, of course. He’d spot nothing she didn’t want him to find. After all, her entire life was about remaking herself into the person she’d always dreamed to be. As if drawn there by a higher power, her gaze turned to meet her own in the silver heirloom mirror. She’d bought it for decoration, but it was her nemesis. A reminder. A warning.

“Hey, fat girl.” The slithery whisper turned her stomach and chilled her blood. She looked around the empty hallways, but there was no one. She tried to take a few steps back, but the voice turned hard and mean. “Run from me now and I’ll find you later. Then it’ll be worse.”

She swore she wouldn’t cry or show fear. Heart pounding, she stepped into the staircase.

He smelled bad, of cigarettes and alcohol. He was a senior, got suspended a lot, but always seemed able to find her. “I have to go to the office. They’re waiting for me.”

Her voice trembled and he grinned. “Come here. Won’t take long. Aww, did you get dressed up for me? Or are you trying to show off your big tits to catch a boy?”

Tears burned in the back of her throat. Her fingers clumsily tugged down her nice new blouse she’d saved up money for. She’d always loved clothes, and would pore over all the fashion magazines, marking her favorites. When she saw the top at the mall, she imagined how she’d look in the frothy, feminine creation. Black and lacey, extra long to hide her stomach, she thought she looked sexy. Now she watched the way he stared at her breasts and hated it. Her lower lip shook. “Leave me alone.”

“Show me your tits and I will.”

Horror flooded her. She turned to run, but he grabbed her wrist and twisted hard. His rancid breath hit her face. “I’m trying to help you, fat girl. You can’t get a boy when you’re fat and ugly. But boys like tits and ass. The more you show them, the better they like you.” His other hand tugged at her neckline and tried to pull the elastic down. Humiliation writhed inside her, and his fingers were like cold, oily snakes against her skin. She gulped back the tears and pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me!” He grabbed her breast and squeezed hard enough to make her sob, but she managed to push him away and stumble back. His low laugh echoed in her ears as she bent over to hide her chest and ran toward the girls’ bathroom.

“See you later, fat girl. I’ll be waiting . . .”

Kennedy shuddered, and slowly reached up to touch her face, reminding herself she was grown up. He had tortured her all year, until every morning she’d vomit, imagining what he’d try to do to her. The pushing and bullying and insults were nothing compared to the deathly stillness of the stairwell, either after school, or in between periods, or lunch. Then he began waiting for her after school, and nowhere was safe. No one ever helped her.

He’d forced her, over and over again, to humiliate herself in front of him under threats that it could get much worse if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted. So she did. But it didn’t matter.

Things got worse anyway.

How long did it take her to realize she began losing weight because she stopped eating? Food had always been a comfort, but now it was the enemy—the weapon used against her. She never voluntarily tried to lose the weight. Food slowly became something that would lead to more abuse and torture, so it was easy just to stop.

She embraced the empty ache in her body until it was the only feeling she was comfortable with. Maybe she’d become invisible, drifting away to a shimmer of her former self, finally safe from the boy and his crew.

Her mother celebrated Kennedy’s loss of forty pounds, which hurt Kennedy the most—the knowledge her own mother would now parade her around to charity events and society friends, where before she pretended she didn’t have a daughter. Every time Dad tried to get her to eat, her mother clucked her tongue and waved him away in dismissal. She even encouraged the starvation diet, insisting all women did it because the female body was their most powerful weapon. Not brains.

Her hand dropped from her face. Kennedy turned from her reflection and beat back the remnants of the past. She hated thinking about it, though her therapist always reminded her that scars were the sign of battles fought and won. Even wounds that couldn’t be seen on the skin. Suddenly, the silence seemed deafening and full of low whispers. She grabbed the remote, and turned on the television, pumping up the volume. No more. She had worked hard to find a healthy balance and enjoy the body she now proudly owned. It had taken years to fight the demons and be able to see her actual reflection in the mirror, and not the distorted image of an overweight young girl. But the mirrors still mocked, taunted, screamed. She never knew when the woman in the mirror would appear disfigured. Fat. Alone.

The droning noise of a talk show soothed her ears. Kennedy finished her water and changed into her favorite hot pink pj set in comfy cotton. She laid her head on one of the plump pillows, closed her eyes, and slept with the lights on and television blaring.

Her last image was of Nate’s face as he bent down to kiss her.