Read Online An Unlikely Match (The Match Series - Book #1) by Barbara Dunlop - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Dunlop
Ads: Link
asked.
“On Wednesday.” She’d been pretty disappointed. The lineups were long, the time in front of the casting director was minuscule, and it was impossible to know what they’d liked or didn’t like about her performance.
“When do you expect to hear?”
“Probably never.” She slipped her tight shoes off her swollen feet. “I’m thinking I might try getting an agent.”
Morgan took the bend in the road and started up the long hill toward their complex. “Will that help?”
“It will if I can get a good agent. It’s pretty tough out there.”
“ Seems like there’d be a lot of competition in the film business,” he offered.
Amelia gave a nod of agreement, wiggling her toes free. “But I’m not giving up.”
“Good for you.”
She grinned. “In the meantime, I can act interested when men try to chat me up at Sapphire Sunday.”
“Are we that bad?”
“Most of you aren’t. And you’re not. You’re one of the good guys, Morgan.” As she said the words out loud, she realized how true they were.
He swung the car into the short driveway of the condos and shut down the engine. “Glad to hear it.”
When he opened his door, she followed suit, slinging her purse over one shoulder and dangling her sandals from her opposite hand. But before she could clamber out, he was there, offering to help.
She took the hand he offered, letting him pull her gently to her feet. Then she was directly in front of him, nearly touching him, marveling all over again at his unexpected good looks even as she caught a whiff of his very masculine scent.
“Thanks for driving me home,” she offered in a voice that had turned to a husky whisper.
“Anytime,” he answered.
“You might regret saying that,” she teased.
“I don’t think so.”
He sobered, and so did she. The dense coastal wind wafted between them, rustling the leaves on the nearby trees. The streetlights buzzed in the background, while the faint sound of traffic whirred along the thoroughfare at the bottom of the hill.
He inched closer , an intense expression on his face.
She waited. She wanted this kiss. She wanted it very badly.
He hesitated for a long moment, and she thought she’d misjudged. But then his hand came up, cradling her cheek. He dipped his head, and she let her eyes flutter closed, parting her lips, waiting the excruciating seconds until his mouth finally touched hers.
His lips were soft, warm, firm as they kissed hers. One hand gently cradled her face, the other moving to the small of her back, urging her into the heat of his body. She stepped forward, bringing her thighs against his, feeling a surge of his strength. She tipped her head, straining up to meet him, fusing their lips more firmly together. Desire cleared a pathway through her brain. Rational thought left, replaced by raw emotion and want.
Her sandals slipped from her fingers, bouncing to the asphalt. She had to touch him, so she reached up, placing her palms against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, the play of his hard muscles, the beat of his heart. Her fingertips explored, absorbing tiny shocks of arousal that fueled her desire.
His tongue tested her lips, and she opened to him, wider and wider, parrying, drinking in his tart taste, inhaling his scent, pressing closer and sliding her hands around his neck to the bare skin below his hairline. He was strong and sure, steady and stable, and she felt ridiculously safe and centered in his arms.
Then he broke the kiss and drew slowly back, blinking in the dim light of the driveway.
“Anthropology,” he breathed.
“Excuse me?”
“I have no explanation for my behavior, except that you’re an incredibly beautiful woman, and I’m an ordinary man.”
He thought she was beautiful. Her heart lifted with joy.
But the rest he had wrong.
“You’re not ordinary,” she told him. He was a genius rocket scientist, smarter than any ten other people.
“ But I am,” he insisted. “Excruciatingly
“On Wednesday.” She’d been pretty disappointed. The lineups were long, the time in front of the casting director was minuscule, and it was impossible to know what they’d liked or didn’t like about her performance.
“When do you expect to hear?”
“Probably never.” She slipped her tight shoes off her swollen feet. “I’m thinking I might try getting an agent.”
Morgan took the bend in the road and started up the long hill toward their complex. “Will that help?”
“It will if I can get a good agent. It’s pretty tough out there.”
“ Seems like there’d be a lot of competition in the film business,” he offered.
Amelia gave a nod of agreement, wiggling her toes free. “But I’m not giving up.”
“Good for you.”
She grinned. “In the meantime, I can act interested when men try to chat me up at Sapphire Sunday.”
“Are we that bad?”
“Most of you aren’t. And you’re not. You’re one of the good guys, Morgan.” As she said the words out loud, she realized how true they were.
He swung the car into the short driveway of the condos and shut down the engine. “Glad to hear it.”
When he opened his door, she followed suit, slinging her purse over one shoulder and dangling her sandals from her opposite hand. But before she could clamber out, he was there, offering to help.
She took the hand he offered, letting him pull her gently to her feet. Then she was directly in front of him, nearly touching him, marveling all over again at his unexpected good looks even as she caught a whiff of his very masculine scent.
“Thanks for driving me home,” she offered in a voice that had turned to a husky whisper.
“Anytime,” he answered.
“You might regret saying that,” she teased.
“I don’t think so.”
He sobered, and so did she. The dense coastal wind wafted between them, rustling the leaves on the nearby trees. The streetlights buzzed in the background, while the faint sound of traffic whirred along the thoroughfare at the bottom of the hill.
He inched closer , an intense expression on his face.
She waited. She wanted this kiss. She wanted it very badly.
He hesitated for a long moment, and she thought she’d misjudged. But then his hand came up, cradling her cheek. He dipped his head, and she let her eyes flutter closed, parting her lips, waiting the excruciating seconds until his mouth finally touched hers.
His lips were soft, warm, firm as they kissed hers. One hand gently cradled her face, the other moving to the small of her back, urging her into the heat of his body. She stepped forward, bringing her thighs against his, feeling a surge of his strength. She tipped her head, straining up to meet him, fusing their lips more firmly together. Desire cleared a pathway through her brain. Rational thought left, replaced by raw emotion and want.
Her sandals slipped from her fingers, bouncing to the asphalt. She had to touch him, so she reached up, placing her palms against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, the play of his hard muscles, the beat of his heart. Her fingertips explored, absorbing tiny shocks of arousal that fueled her desire.
His tongue tested her lips, and she opened to him, wider and wider, parrying, drinking in his tart taste, inhaling his scent, pressing closer and sliding her hands around his neck to the bare skin below his hairline. He was strong and sure, steady and stable, and she felt ridiculously safe and centered in his arms.
Then he broke the kiss and drew slowly back, blinking in the dim light of the driveway.
“Anthropology,” he breathed.
“Excuse me?”
“I have no explanation for my behavior, except that you’re an incredibly beautiful woman, and I’m an ordinary man.”
He thought she was beautiful. Her heart lifted with joy.
But the rest he had wrong.
“You’re not ordinary,” she told him. He was a genius rocket scientist, smarter than any ten other people.
“ But I am,” he insisted. “Excruciatingly
Similar Books
