A Mate to Match Read online

  A Mate To Match

  By

  Jeanette Lynn

  Smashwords Edition

  ***

  Published By:

  Jeanette Lynn

  on Smashwords

  A Mate To Match

  Copyright 2013 by Jeanette Lynn

  Smashwords Edition,

  License Notes

  Thank you for purchasing and downloading this e-book.

  It is the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase and download their own copy.

  Thank you for your support.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked ownership of all trademarks and word marks mentioned in this book

  ***

  Books by Jeanette Lynn

  Cosmic Soul Mates Series

  Stellar Proportions

  Book 1

  Out Of This Orbit

  Book 2

  On Her Axis

  Book 3

  Book 4

  Coming soon

  The Brides of Mordenne Series

  A Mate To Match

  Book 1

  In Her Eyes

  Book 2

  Other Books by Jeanette Lynn

  Jingle Belled And Mistletoed

  When She Least Expected It

  (William Geralds from Jingle Belled And Mistletoed gets a story)

  The Bridal Hunt

  Reader advisory: contains (m/f/m)

  No (m/m)

  Of Another Dimension

  Reader advisory: contains (m/f/m)

  No (m/m)

  ***

  Table of Contents

  Katarina- Thank you for choosing Made to Match

  Alfie- Geez, she’s a real…

  Katarina- This is ridiculous!

  Alfie- She was frightened.

  Katarina- I woke up when I felt…

  Alfie- She fell asleep immediately…

  Katarina- Oh, my god…

  Alfie- My heart lifted a little…

  Katarina- After a very long shower…

  Alfie- I have some questions for you…

  Katarina- I woke up groaning as…

  Alfred- I paced the living room…

  Kat- Time to take out the trash

  Alfred- I love a good chase!

  Katarina- Ready?

  Epilogue

  About the author

  Other books by Jeanette Lynn

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit material intended for mature audiences

  ***

  Thank You For Choosing Made to Match

  Here at Made to Match, we specialize in finding that special someone meant just for you!

  Katarina

  I sat nervously, waiting for my date to show.

  "He's a little late, but that's okay" I told myself, mumbling it quietly under my breath.

  Any number of things could have come up to cause him to be tardy.

  I glanced down at my watch.

  Thirty minutes late.

  I tapped the table with my nails impatiently, trying not to fidget, just in case he walked in.

  Don't want him to think I'm on crack or something.

  Which I'm not!

  The waitress came by and refilled my drink, giving me a sympathetic smile as she passed.

  Oh, yay!

  Now I'm getting pitying looks.

  I swirled my hand around in the condensation from my glass, which was sweating onto the table.

  I thought back to when I’d gotten the notice in my email.

  Large, happy font in bright pink that practically screamed at you saying, 'You have a match', and how I’d been so ecstatic.

  Now, though, as I glance at my watch again... going on an hour past...

  Not so much.

  Okay, he’s obviously not going to show.

  I am so done.

  I raised my hand up to get Pam, my waitress', attention.

  She toddled over and I ordered their corned beef sandwich, seasoned fries and a side of watermelon.

  Yum!

  If I'm going to be ditched here by my supposed date, I might as well treat myself a little, right?

  My stomach growled and my mouth started to water at the thought of my late lunch.

  I was in a rush this morning to get to work and hadn't had time for breakfast.

  Darn alarm clock had chosen this morning to die on me of all mornings.

  It's all right though, I’d been meaning to get a new one anyways, I thought as I smiled a little ruefully at my rotten luck as of late.

  My food arrived and I drooled a little as she plopped it down carefully in front of me.

  "Enjoy your meal, sweetheart," Pam said congenially.

  "Thank you," I replied, giving her a grateful smile as I unfolded my napkin, placing it in my lap.

  Ooooh, baby, come to mama!

  I dug in with gusto.

  Mmm mmm, I thought happily.

  So good.

  The bell above the little diner door chimed, but I didn't really pay any attention to it.

  I was a little too busy in food heaven.

  Clogged arteries here I come!

  A shadow fell over my booth and I quickly set my sandwich half down, hastily wiping my mouth on an extra napkin before I glanced up.

  "Are you....." a man said with an impossibly deep voice, looking at a piece of ripped paper he had in his hands.

  In his very dirty hands, I thought, trying not to cringe.

  The paper was crinkled badly and looked like it had been ripped out of a phonebook.

  "Erm…" He cleared his throat, as if to cover a snigger. "Are you Kat?" he finally asked.

  I looked up at him and couldn't, for the life of me, place him.

  He was wearing grungy looking jeans, an old ratty flannel, that had obviously seen better days, and his hands were covered in what looked like black grease.

  I don't think he’s even tried to wash any of that... muck... off of his hands yet, especially if the grease smell that was emanating from them so strongly was any indication.

  He had longish, reddish blonde hair that he had tied back haphazardly into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and the beginnings of a very scruffy looking, reddish beard on his smirking face.

  "Katarina, actually. Um, pardon me, but… have we met?" I questioned him, trying to keep my tone polite as I eyed him warily.

  He plopped down into the booth seat across from me and snagged some of my fries right off of my plate.

  Ugh!

  I frowned at him and scooted my plate closer to me.

  Who does that?

  Eat off of a stranger’s plate! And with dirty fingers of all things!

  Double Ugh!

  I shuddered, watching as he held the fries to his lips with his grease stained fingers and plopped them into his mouth.

  Can't you get sick from that? I wondered distractedly.

  "I'm Alfie, your date," he said, trying to sneak some more of my fries.

  I grabbed my spoon, slapping his hand with it before he could get anymore.

  He yelped and pulled it back, looking at me, shocked that I would deign to do something so rash.

  I'll admit, I'm a little surprised at my behavior myself...

  Well, you know what? Desperate times call for desperate measures!

/>   This must be some terrible joke, I thought desperately.

  He couldn't possibly be my date!

  There must be some kind of mistake or something, I promised myself, trying to calm my rattled nerves.

  "No. No, you’re not. My date looks nothing like you. I would know, I've seen his picture. You look nothing like him," I said quickly and vehemently, shaking my head vigorously.

  The fool tried to snag more fries and I raised my spoon warningly.

  He pulled his hands back immediately and I stifled the triumphant smile I wanted to flash at him.

  Good Boy!

  "And quit touching my food, sir! I don't even know you. You haven't even washed your hands yet, have you?" I barked at him testily, nodding my head towards his dirty digits.

  He studied me intently, like he was looking at me, really looking at me, for the first time.

  He acted like he was going to take a swipe at my food again and I growled at him, fed up with his intrusion on my solitude and his little games.

  He laughed at me and snatched my soda. Then, before I could even rescue it from his dirty mitts, he pulled the straw out and swallowed it down in one long gulp.

  I could feel my face heating with anger and embarrassment that he thought it was so funny to mess with me.

  He set the glass back down and motioned for the waitress to refill it.

  "Oh, I'm your date alright, darlin'," he drawled.

  I detected a slight hint of an accent in his voice.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and pursed my lips at him, not buying this for a minute.

  "That picture you saw of me was really old. Mama took it like... five or six years ago," he said, shrugging.

  "You put an old photo from five or six years ago on your profile?" I asked incredulously, frowning at him.

  "Nope, Mama did," he replied, a half smile playing at his lips.

  "You let your mother put your photo on a dating site and arrange dates for you? And I thought your name was Alfred?" I sniped, my voice rising higher and higher as I talked.

  "I wouldn't say I ‘let her’, or ‘had her’ put one of them things up for me," he said casually, waving his hand around a little as he talked.

  "You see, Mama's a little stubborn and don't take it too kindly when things don't go her way, and yeah, everybody calls me Alfie. Alfred sounds much too... stuffy."

  My face turned beet red with embarrassment as his words sunk in.

  How could this happen to me?

  Oh, my god!

  I'm on a date with a man who obviously doesn't want to be here and is probably being blackmailed by his mother or something to make him come here in the first place!

  ...I don't need this right now...

  What am I saying? I don't need this ever!

  "So, why don't we cut the crap here, huh? I don't really want to be here, okay, and I don't want to waste your time. So, let's you and I... come to an... understanding, hmm?" he implored, watching my face for a reaction.

  I looked down at the table, a little stung and shocked by everything.

  "You’re not my usual type," he stated bluntly, with complete and brutal honesty, looking me up and down, assessing me.

  I burned with indignation as I peeked up and saw him looking me over like you would cattle at an auction.

  I know I'm not some raging beauty or anything.

  I’ll never be the world's idea of a 'perfect weight’, but as far as I’m concerned, I’ve made peace with that a long time ago.

  ...or so I thought.

  Hearing this...this man say it like that, just brought all of those old insecurities, I thought I’d buried, back to the surface.

  And it was really ticking me off.

  My head popped up and I stared at him, a little dumbfounded.

  Wait just a minute here! Who does this guy think he is anyways!?

  Dirty clothes... unkempt appearance... scruffy face!

  How dare he!

  "But I'm willing to make an exception, if you're agreeable?" he continued, then smiled at me and winked.

  I stood up, until I was towering over him while he sat.

  My eyes narrowed to slits, hands balled up and clenched at my sides.

  "So, let me get this straight, Romeo. You’re willing to fuck a fat chick, as long as said fat chick, doesn't go tattling to your Mama, do I have it all right?" I asked loudly, my voice carrying throughout the room as I blasted him angrily.

  His eyes popped open wide and he started sputtering as if he was completely shocked by my outburst and couldn’t quite figure out what to say, fighting between a grimace and a grin.

  I started to hurry out to leave but he held my wrist suddenly with his huge paw of a hand.

  Good lord! His fingers nearly singed me with the heat that emanated from them, momentarily distracting me from the grease that was painted all over them.

  I tried to pull my hand free, then grunted at him warningly when my attempts to free myself didn’t work right away.

  "Now hold up just a moment, darlin'," he started, but I cut him off, yanking my hand viciously and abruptly, freeing it from his strong hold.

  "I am not your darlin', got it?!" I snarled at him, folding my hands over my chest to dissuade anymore wrist locking maneuvers from him.

  His face, which had moments ago looked a little contrite and upset, suddenly broke out into a wide, heart stopping grin, his eyes sparkling at me mischievously.

  "Hell, sugar, you’re just full of piss and vinegar, ain'tcha?!" he chuckled laughingly.

  I noticed he had two dimples in each cheek when he smiled.

  Stupid, smiling chimp! I would love to give his face another dimple right now!

  A crater right on his chin!

  Cute dimples or not!

  They would have been adorable, I imagine, if they were on someone else, I thought a little distractedly.

  On him? Well… it just made me want to slap him around a little more.

  Dimples or no dimples, that man is an ass!

  He held up his hands in a 'hold on a second' gesture.

  "Look, let me apologize and explain a minute. I wasn't talking about your curves, woman. I thought Mama had set me up with another mouse," he chuckled.

  Some of my anger left me a little bit at his statement, taking some of the wind out of my sails.

  I eyed him warily as he gestured for me to sit down.

  “You weren’t?” I asked disbelievingly, not ready to budge just yet.

  He shook his head ‘no’ and nodded his head towards the booth for me to sit again.

  “Let me explain,” he chuckled as I reluctantly sat down.

  I’m not completely convinced here, but willing to at least hear him out before I take off.

  "Naw, sugar," he eyed me appraisingly, "you're built just right." He winked at me, his grin widening even more. A feat I thought nearly impossible.

  I couldn't help it when I snorted derisively.

  Don Juan over here...

  I could just picture him dressed as a rake in a historical novel... tights and all...

  I bet he has chicken legs... pasty, white, chicken legs... with no hair on them.

  I pictured my long gone Aunt Gladys' bone white, thin legs on his body.

  A tiny snicker burst out of me at my ridiculously wayward thoughts, but I covered it up with a cough and remembered where I was and who I was sitting with.

  Just let him talk, Katarina, then you can excuse yourself and wash your hands of this mess.

  I should have just left in the first place... but sometimes you are just too nice, missy! I bitched at myself.

  I snapped myself out of it and glanced at a very amused Alfie, who seemed content to sit there and stare at me while I spaced out for a spell.

  "A mouse?" I asked, not entirely sure if I really want to know.

  He grabbed the other half of my uneaten sandwich and commenced chowing down on it.

  I sighed at the loss of my lunch and motioned for him to contin
ue.

  Might as well hear him out, I was dumb enough to sit back down, right?

  “Well? What’s a mouse?” I inquired, fiddling with the worn grooves on the old diner table top.

  "You know, timid... shy... mousy," he explained after he’d chewed his bite.

  If anything... at least he doesn't talk with his mouth full.

  I raised a brow at his explanation.

  "Well, there's nothing mousy about me then." I smirked.

  He quickly picked up my newly refreshed drink and took a swig, a passing waitress having just dropped off a refill for me.

  A boyish smile graced his face and I couldn't help but notice how cute he looked when his face lit up like that.

  "Damn straight, sugar." He laughed again. "Definitely not a mouse."

  Curiosity settled, I started fidgeting with my napkin, wondering how long I should sit here until I can politely make my excuses to leave without being rude.

  Patience has never been my strong suit.

  I looked up and saw that Alfie... Alfred... whoever the heck he is, had been staring at me, studying me.

  It almost seemed like he was looking for some... 'sign' or 'tell' in my expression or something and couldn't find it.

  My brow furrowed when he just continued to observe me, his face showing a touch of confusion as he regarded me so seriously.

  "You don't... you don't find me irresistible?" he asked, seeming truly puzzled by my lack of interest.

  I couldn't help my reaction, though, as I burst out laughing and then slapped my hand over my mouth to shut myself up.