Everything was completely under control
Kylie reassured herself as she knocked on Cole’s door. They had business to conduct, so their lust would take a backseat. Work first, play later.
Then Cole opened the door and she melted like chocolate in a warm fist. “Hi,” she whispered, ready to drop her briefcase and dive into him.
His face lit with joy, but he stepped back to let her in instead of grabbing her into his arms.
“Maybe we should rethink what we’re doing,” Cole said.
Oh, no. If he got sensible, she was sunk. She so needed another night with him, making love, feeling that release, not to mention discussing her projects. She had to reason with him.
“We’re getting carried away, right? I know. But I have the solution. We work first.” Kylie threw her briefcase on the table, struggling to get it open. She’d crammed so much into it, the clasp was stuck.
Suddenly it sprang open, spewing items: a file, a notepad, her toothbrush, her sexy lingerie and two packets of honey, similar to the ones they’d made sexy use of the other night.
Cole picked up one packet and a slow smile spread across his face. “You had something in mind?”
Dear Reader,
The perfect match. What a dream. Wouldn’t we do anything to find that one person? Isn’t that what matchmaking services—with their profiles—provide?
Of course, there’s more to finding a lifelong love than can be recorded on a chart or a bubble test. There’s that extra something…the heart and work and compromise of it….
That started me thinking about a character who isn’t interested in any kind of match. Meet Kylie Falls. She’s on her way to a big future in L.A. when she trips over Cole Sullivan. How inconvenient. Try as she might to keep things casual with Cole, she learns there’s no such thing as simply sex.
I hope you enjoy this story…and that someone you love is reading a book beside you right now. Or else you’re about to bump into him at the bookstore or the Laundromat or a Starbucks—he’s out there, I know it.
Let me know what you think of the story, at [email protected]. Visit my Web site for upcoming releases—www.dawnatkins.com.
Yours,
Dawn Atkins
Simply Sex
Dawn Atkins
To David, my own perfect match, and to my sister Diana—he’s out there!
Acknowledgments
All my gratitude to Lynda Johncock-Henkel, a real-life matchmaker who’s brought happiness to many Arizona couples. Lynda, keep the happily-ever-afters coming!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
1
“YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS, but the guy on line one just asked me to kiss his willy.”
Kylie Falls and her sister Janie looked up at Janie’s receptionist, standing wide-eyed in the doorway.
“He asked you to kiss his what?” Her sister’s face went pale.
“His hoo-hoo…johnson…whatever, Janie. I’m not saying what he called it.”
“What did you tell him?” Janie asked.
“I told him no, of course—heavens, what do you think? And now he wants a refund.”
“A refund? Is he a client?” Janie’s matchmaking service was one year old and struggling and she’d called Kylie with her PR expertise to help turn things around.
“God, no, he’s not a client. He thinks we give phone sex.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Janie picked up the handset and punched the flashing button. “Sir? I’m afraid you’ve confused Personal Touch with another kind of, um, touch. We arrange committed relationships and—excuse me?”
Color flooded Janie’s face. Was the guy saying something mean or gross? Kylie stood, ready to tell the jerk where he could stick his wagging weenie, but Janie’s words were calm.
“You’ve obviously read the wrong ad, sir. Hang on.” She palmed the mouthpiece. “Grab the Arizona Weekly, Gail.”
Gail fetched the free entertainment paper for the Phoenix metro area, folded to an inside page and handed it to her boss, her gypsy bracelets tinkling.
Janie examined the paper, then looked up at Kylie in dismay. “They put our number in the phone-sex ad!” She handed her the tabloid.
Sure enough, PT’s number was also in a boxed ad with the headline “Let’s Get Personal.” An easy mistake for an overworked ad rep to make, but a disaster for her sister’s business.
“What do I say to this guy?” Janie asked Kylie.
“I’ll handle it.” Gail grabbed the phone, pasted on a smile and spoke sweetly. “Sir, I’m afraid you’ve reached the wrong number, but this is your lucky day. Instead of anonymous encounters with unseen strangers, why not get the personal attention of the best matchmaker in the valley?”
Kylie stifled a laugh. Gail had been Janie’s first client and was her biggest fan. There wasn’t an unattached adult Gail didn’t believe wouldn’t benefit from “a happily ever after with The Personal Touch.”
The guy must have said something harsh, because Gail slammed down the phone. “Be that way, Mr. Hoo-hoo. Your loss.”
“I’m afraid you’ll be fending off willy whackers all week,” Janie said on a sigh. “Though that’s the least of our problems.” She turned her worried face to Kylie, her breathing labored. Janie’s childhood asthma flared when she was under stress and circling the bankruptcy drain definitely caused stress.
“Take a slow breath, Janie,” Kylie said softly, waiting for the soft inhalation before she shifted into business mode. “We’ll get a correction and a free extension, don’t worry.”
“Tell me what to demand,” Gail said.
Kylie rattled off concessions and Gail jotted notes, then headed off to do battle with the classified department, earrings and bracelets jingling merrily.
“I’m just so glad you’re here,” Janie said. She came around her spindly antique desk to smother Kylie in a flappy-sleeved hug. “Thanks for not saying I told you so.”
“There’s no point in that.” Kylie believed in moving on, not dwelling on mistakes. It was no secret she thought a matchmaking service was a waste of Janie’s psychology degree and a risky place to invest her half of the trust their parents had provided, but she’d done some research and discovered Janie’s customized approach filled a unique niche in the volatile dating-service