Reunited: Matchmakers Book 4 Read online

  Reunited

  Matchmakers Book 4

  Declan Rhodes

  Contents

  1. Daniel

  2. Kenneth

  3. Daniel

  4. Kenneth

  5. Daniel

  6. Kenneth

  7. Daniel

  8. Kenneth

  9. Daniel

  10. Kenneth

  11. Daniel

  12. Kenneth

  13. Daniel

  14. Kenneth

  15. Daniel

  16. Kenneth

  17. Daniel

  18. Kenneth

  19. Daniel

  20. Kenneth

  21. Daniel

  22. Kenneth

  23. Daniel

  24. Kenneth

  25. Daniel

  Epilogue - Daniel

  Mismatched - Matchmakers Book 1

  Geeked - Matchmakers Book 2

  Duped - Matchmakers Book 3

  About the Author

  Also by Declan Rhodes

  1

  Daniel

  Seb’s eyes glistened. They were on the edge of shedding big, ugly tears down his high, chiseled cheekbones. I felt a heaviness in my chest. It was like a stone dropped to the ocean floor. I didn’t realize until that moment the impact I’d made on him during our week spent together. I’d hoped it wouldn’t be easy to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to provoke a dramatic scene. I didn’t feel a powerful pluck at my heartstrings just yet. After a few dates back in the real world—maybe those feelings would flower—perhaps not.

  “Spring must be just around the corner. I think my pollen allergies are acting up.” I knew better, but I let Seb get by with his wobbly explanation. We still had ten days to go in February. Everything of consequence outside was still frozen, and significant winter weather systems were always possible in March, too. Seb yanked a sweater sleeve up to his right eye to wipe away the tears.

  I handed over a handkerchief. In my efforts to remain among the ranks of the world’s few surviving gentlemen, I always kept a spare in my right pocket. “Here—use this.”

  Seb wiped his eyes and then his nose and started to hand the cloth back to me.

  “No—keep it—please.”

  That now-familiar grin, with a dimple showing on his right cheek, spread across Seb’s face. The first time I saw it, the expression melted the first frosty layer that coated my jaded heart.

  Seb said, “I’m sorry, but I need to get going. I don’t have any checked luggage, and if I get a move on, I can catch the next train back to Chicago.”

  “I’d give you a ride, but Blake’s over there waiting, and he arranged a dinner for us with his parents. You know how young guys are with Mom and Dad these days. Who knows how long the evening will last. Dinner could even turn into an overnight visit when all’s said and done.”

  “Then, we’ll text.” Seb released the handle of his carry-on roller bag and reached out to wrap me in his arms.

  I’d kept one corner of my eye fixed on the luggage carousel while we spoke, but I couldn’t turn down one more hug from Seb’s pumped biceps. He worried that all of the tasting he’d been forced to do while cooking for his new catering business was starting to impact his waistline. Fortunately, for me, the muscles in his arms and chest easily distracted attention from his belly.

  Seb nearly knocked the wind out of me with his forceful grip, and then his lips drifted close to mine. I kissed him, but, as I parted my lips for a more intimate connection, he pulled back.

  He didn’t fully commit to the kiss. It was merely a peck. After spending almost all of our waking hours together over the last five days of the week-long cruise, and seeing his eyes tear up, I was shocked that all I earned was a lip-to-lip tap. Maybe the tears were caused by allergies.

  I resisted the urge to pout. Childish displays weren’t in my body language vocabulary. Instead, I pasted a wan smile on my face.

  “Go catch that train.” I glanced over Seb’s right shoulder and spotted Blake. He was fiddling with his cellphone.

  Seb started to turn and blew a hurried kiss at me. He grabbed the handle of his bag and set out into the crowd of spring travelers. I didn’t want drama, but I did expect something more affecting. On the flight, I looked forward to that ache in my gut while I waited for the first text after parting ways. Unfortunately, all I got was the bitter aftertaste of confusion in the back of my throat. Was it only a fling?

  Doing my best to shake off the disappointment, I watched Blake flash the hand signal from a crazy sci-fi TV show he worshipped. A young girl, maybe fifteen, received the sign from the opposite side of the baggage carousel. They both laughed in unison. Blake was my business partner and best friend. Sometimes, he reminded me that the child inside was still fully alive and kicking.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting the flirtation.”

  Blake abruptly turned his head. “Who? Me? You’ve got to be kidding. What is she—14? And she’s a she.”

  I chucked Blake on the shoulder. “You know I’m joking. You’ve got that hunk of a man at home. At least I hope you still do. I didn’t receive any panic messages while I was gone.”

  “I would have brought Hunter with me, but he’s leading a workshop with Charlie for other nonprofits interested in putting together cellphone apps. I made sure he had a box of Match Made pens to pass out. And you—that kiss. I saw it. Lip to lip.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “I thought this was a research trip.”

  “Who can study others nonstop twenty-four hours a day? I needed to give myself some downtime in between sipping fake margaritas for four of those hours.”

  “Fake—what?”

  “I hung out by the pool and watched those young, buff males circle each other like swans in mating season. If I’d drunk the real thing the whole time, they’d have to fish me out of the pool water.”

  “And did you come home with useful data?”

  “I did, but can we talk about that at work? I want to squeeze out the last precious few hours of vacation time. You know that I don’t do time off as a rule. If you’d not had Ollie twist my arm…”

  Blake laughed and slapped his knees. “He did do that, didn’t he? I forgot that moment when you yelled, “Ow!” Iris and I only wanted him to help support our solid arguments in favor of you finally taking a break. We didn’t plan for him to yank your elbow into a painful death grip.”

  “The brute with a heart of gold.”

  The Ollie story was a brief distraction. I knew that Blake wouldn’t easily let go of the kiss he spotted. “And tell me about your cruise romance. He’s not bad looking from what I could see. Does it end here?”

  My forehead wrinkled with uncertainty. “Too early to know.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Too early to know that, too. I can tell you one thing. There’s more potential there than I’ve had with anyone since those two golden years.”

  “Big news then. That’s been what—almost a decade?”

  “Nine years and three months, but don’t go getting all excited. It was only a peck.”

  With a quick sideways glance, I thought I detected a slight snort.

  “Anyway, I’m happy to be back, and you’ll have to catch me up on the latest Match Made news. I followed the guidelines helpfully provided by you and Iris. I didn’t check my email a single time on the cruise. I knew you’d call if an emergency came up.”

  I left my matchmaking business in the capable hands of Blake and Iris. While away, I decided that I would formally move Iris up from her secretary position to full partnership in the firm. She already knew as much about our day-to-day operations as I did.

  The luggage carousel started up before Blake could reply. He leaned toward my
shoulder and whispered, “It won’t be hard to spot your luggage. It’s the most elegant on the plane befitting the sharpest man on the flight.”

  I fought hard to avoid rolling my eyes. “Are you angling for a raise?” I wasn’t serious. I knew that he intended the comment to be a sincere compliment. Both Blake and Iris found the loves of their lives in the past two years and spent most of their waking hours traipsing around Cloud Nine. They hoped I’d soon join them, but, until then, supportive compliments continued to roll off their tongues.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to come up with more small talk that would be acceptable in a crowd. It didn’t take long for my black case to roll out. I pointed. “Right there.” Before I could step forward, Blake retrieved it for me.

  With his fingers at rest on my right cheek, Blake rubbed his thumb along my jawline. “I hadn’t noticed this at first. That’s a serious tan.”

  I took the handle of my bag. “It’s more of a burn. One screwup meant some serious pain for two days. The only plus to that story was that I got to meet the ship’s doctor.”

  “Was he handsome?”

  “I don’t think that’s the best way to describe her.”

  As we strolled down the concourse, I continued my story about the sunburn. “I locked the sunscreen in my stateroom along with the key. The ship’s staff didn’t consider it a crisis, and it took me three hours to get back into the room. Meanwhile, I wasn’t smart enough to stay out of the sun.”

  “A little too focused on the new romance?”

  “I can honestly say no in this case. I’d met someone who asked about my work, and he told me that he wanted to start a similar business out on the west coast. We sipped real mojitos and talked shop by the pool. I was too distracted by the conversation to realize that my shoulders were sizzling in the sun like meat on a backyard grill.”

  In the parking garage, with Blake’s car only a few steps away, he changed the topic. “Oh, I almost forgot. We’ve got a great new client. He’s a wealthy one, and he paid for all of the services upfront. I promised Iris that I’d mention him. She thought it might be someone that you’ve run across in the past. She thinks everyone successful in business knows each other.”

  “From Milwaukee or Chicago?”

  “Chicago.”

  “A legacy family? Is he out? Maybe I do know him. I had a lot of old connections there before we opened the new office.”

  “It’s like this. I’m not sure about the family, but yes, he’s out. He told us that he had a bad breakup several years back, and it took a while to get back on the horse, so to speak, but he wants to find a long-term match now. It shouldn’t take him long.”

  I crooked my finger in the direction of Blake’s phone. “A young guy?”

  “I’d say he’s close to your age. That’s still young. Isn’t it?”

  I smirked in response. “Thank you for your politeness. I’m not sure many consider 40-ish young.”

  After I heard the news that the mystery client was my age and wealthy, my curiosity began rolling like a snowball downhill. Unfortunately, I was confident the new client wasn’t a match for me. Blake would have blurted that out right away.

  Blake punched buttons on his phone and pulled up the Match Made dating profile. “Here he is. Damn, if I were older—but I’ve got Hunter. Nobody beats him.”

  With the phone pushed into my face, my jaw dropped. The blood in my veins instantly turned to ice. I did know the client.

  I barely heard Blake when he asked, “Are you okay?” He pulled the phone away. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Daniel. Do you know him?”

  I reached out and grabbed the phone to take another look. I wanted to be sure that it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. The second glance was all the confirmation that I needed.

  I found myself face-to-face with Kenneth, the man who held my heart in his hands for two full years. His face filled the screen. He had a slightly lop-sided smile and a small scar on his forehead from a childhood accident. It couldn’t be anyone else. It was the man who shattered my soul into a thousand pieces.

  I managed to spit out a few words. “You—I mean—he’s in our computer?”

  Blake nodded and popped open the trunk of his car for my luggage. “That’s Kenneth. He was friendly when we met. The only unusual part of our interaction was that he seemed like he was in a hurry. I talked to Iris about it, and we agreed that we could set his first date up without bothering you on your trip.

  A toxic stew of emotions welled up inside me. I couldn’t identify the specifics. As I wound up my right arm, the one attached to the hand that held the phone, Blake lunged at me. He knocked me against the side of the car seconds before I hurled the device across the garage.

  “Damn! What the hell’s wrong with you? I like this phone, and it does precisely what I want it to do and does it well. It was a gift from you.”

  I leaned against the car, breathing fast, and handed the phone to Blake. My words came out in stuttered confusion. “I--I--shocked. You don’t know who that is. Do you?”

  “Kenneth Taylor. I think that was his last name.”

  “It is.”

  Blake’s eyes opened wide, and he smiled. “You do know him. Iris owes me a lunch for the bet we made. I guess that’s why you looked a little pale. That day that one of my high school buddies walked through the door of the Chicago office surprised me. Could have knocked me over with a feather.”

  I didn’t say more until we’d climbed inside the car. Blake wound his way out of the parking garage while I tried to piece together the proper words.

  “He’s the man who shredded my heart. We dated for two years.”

  Blake slammed his foot on the brake and would have thrown both of us through the windshield if it weren’t for our seatbelts. I instinctively lowered my head to brace for the impact when I heard brakes squeal behind us.

  Fortunately, the car following stopped in time. Blake turned his head. “You’re kidding me.”

  I didn’t respond in words. I pointed forward to encourage him to drive.

  After the first honk from behind, Blake slowly drove to the parking garage exit gates. Once we were safely on the highway and headed for downtown Milwaukee, I said, “I’m not kidding. It’s him.”

  “I’m so—I don’t know what to say. Is sorry the right thing? I’d never have added him to the computer so fast if I knew who he was. Iris doesn’t know either. We talked about it all before I made the first match. Surely, he knows…”

  “He knows. Kenneth is far too smart to miss that I’m an owner of Match Made. He spent three days running computer background checks when he chose a contractor for kitchen counters. My name’s on the brochure for fuck’s sake!” I slammed my right hand on the dashboard and caused Blake to jump and swerve. “He fucking knows!”

  As we crossed the Hoan Bridge and descended into Milwaukee, the city spread wide ahead of us. For the first time in my life, I worried that it waited, not with arms flung wide open, but in a mood for scornful heckling, to welcome me home.

  2

  Kenneth

  Seconds after I entered Harissa, one of the hottest new restaurants in Chicago’s River North neighborhood, the chef-owner exited the kitchen to greet me. He reached out a beefy hand. A cloud of mouth-watering Moroccan aromas followed in his wake.

  The chef spoke with a formal bearing and an accent I couldn’t quite place. It was southern European in origin, but I couldn’t decide between Italy and Spain. The latter was most likely. Spain’s Moorish history was intricately tied to the Moroccan culture.

  “Mr. Taylor! I’m so pleased to meet you. When I spotted you on our guestlist for the evening, I instructed my staff to let me know as soon as you arrived. We’ve saved a table near the kitchen for you and your guest. You can easily view our chefs at work, but you won’t be run over by servers as they carry their trays.”

  “Thank you for seating us outside of the main traffic lane.”

  The occasion was my first date with
Joseph Kendricks. I was putting myself out on the dating market again for the first time in years. Most of my closest associates thought a resumption of the romantic life was long overdue, but most of them disagreed with my methodology.

  I wanted a service that wouldn’t draw too much attention to my search. I knew that Match Made, an upscale matchmaking firm, was owned and operated by a former boyfriend. Daniel Cummings, the owner, and I were close for two intensely intimate years before the relationship crumbled to dust.

  Fortunately, dating Daniel was in the past. It was long ago. I trusted that after nearly ten years, any animosity lay far in the rearview mirror for both of us.

  After all, I didn’t have many quality options for agencies that could assist with my search. Daniel built his matchmaking business into a well-respected firm, and it was the only one of its type that served an exclusively gay clientele in the city.

  When I mentioned my plans to my sister, Rochelle, I said, “It’s a much better option than putting myself on a meat-market app. I’m far too old for that anyway.”

  “Why pay a stranger? All you need to do is let a few of our friends and business associates know that you’re ready. I bet you’d have five wonderful men on your heels within days.”

  “And be the talk of our social circles? No, thank you. I’d end up with a Jerry Buehler, tripping over himself to send roses to my house. Remember that awful courtship? He’s a loon. I can’t go through THAT again.”

  “What exactly do you think you’ll get from a matchmaking service?”