Page 3 of Matched

Chapter Two

Inara

Anthony. Fucking. Martinez.

The mere thought of his name makes me grit my teeth. That’s the husband the United States military’s spouse-matching program assigned to me. Of all the fucking luck, of all the men in the world, why him? How had the Issued Partner Program figured that oversexed jackass was the best match for me?

I drive my elbow into the unsuspecting box of Cheerios sitting on the kitchen counter next to the microwave and imagine the smug little bee on the front wearing Tony Martinez’s face. It’s not nearly good enough, but at least it’s something.

“Inara?”

I freeze as Taya’s voice trickles into the kitchen from the living room, the dented box of cereal and bumblebee-Tony seconds away from a pile driver.

“Coming.” I take a final look at the box and shove it over onto its back just to be petty, then I grab the popcorn out of the microwave, bypass the island cart in the cozy kitchen space, and head back into the living room where my best friend is perched cross-legged on the edge of the overstuffed couch. Like most of the furnishings in my apartment, I picked the L-shaped couch for its mix of comfort and style. With the midafternoon sun streaming through the windows, the soft creamy color really brightens the modest-sized room. I sigh. Too bad it can’t do the same for my mood.

Tony Martinez. I’m marrying Tony-fucking-Martinez. What terrible wrong had I committed in another life to earn myself this fate? Here I’d tried so hard to avoid my mom’s relationship mistakes by taking a scientific approach to matrimony—only to have the whole thing blow up in my face.

Taya’s eyes narrow and her lips purse when she tilts her head slightly. “What took you so long?”

I hesitate, consider coming up with a lie, but it’s too much work. Why the hell am I trying to pretend as if I’m fine with the news when I’m not? Some of my anger fades, leaving behind a tightness in my chest. The program was supposed to be my saving grace, a way to find a man who wants to be married and have a family. The psychologists and committee are supposed to succeed at a task that, based on my pitiful relationship history and my mom’s stormy track record, I have no confidence I can conquer on my own—find the ideal partner for me. Instead, the assholes paired me with the one man I know for a fact will never settle down.

After setting the popcorn on the coffee table, I flop onto the couch next to Taya. My weight brings her swaying in my direction, but she doesn’t shift away. Instead, we sit arm to arm, the popcorn between us, and the volume of the flat screen turned low.

So much for binging on chick flicks and comedies. I tuck a loose curl behind my ear. “So, Jim’s ready for kids?”

She flicks the back of my hand and I move over so she can get at the popcorn while we stare at the actors on the screen, our feet messily strewn across the footrest in front of us. It’s a movie we’ve both seen before, so at least we aren’t missing out on anything. Besides, the light creeping in from the floor-to-ceiling windows on the west side of the apartment is reflecting off the screen and blinding me. I huff. The acting isn’t all that good anyway, but it would be nice for something to go my way today.

“Don’t change the subject.” Taya shoves her hand back into the bag for more.

“I’m not changing anything. We were talking about how you and lover boy are going to start popping out mini-lover boys pretty soon.” I freeze, hand halfway to my mouth. My mind fills with an image of an infant with Jim’s scary-ass head attached to its body and I shudder. He’s attractive in a Brawny man sort of way, but not my type.

“No, you were talking about Jim and I having kids when you know I’m scared to death of the subject because you want to avoid discussing the contents of the envelope sitting on the floor in the corner.”

After opening the manila envelope two days ago, I’d launched it across the room where it still lies dejectedly at the base of a potted fern. My pet tortoise, Simon, wandered over while I was in the kitchen. He sniffs the envelope and then his little mouth clamps onto the edge and tugs.

Taya frowns. “What’s he doing?”

“Simon has a lot of pent-up hostility. Hashtag ‘Red-Footed Tortoise Problems,’ am I right?”

Not that Simon is angsty. He’s just a naturally grumpy bastard. A lot like Jim actually. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. Jim isn’t my idea of a romantic anything, but after Taya got out of the hospital, the big guy and I became quick friends. He’s no-nonsense and likes to get straight to the point, and I respect the hell out of him.

Which is more than I can say for my soon-to-be husband. I scowl and my chest tightens even more.

“Personally, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” I hand over the popcorn so I can pull my leg up on the couch and wrap my arms around it. Lying my cheek against my knee, I give up on the television and focus my full attention on Taya. “You’ll make a great mom.”

Taya pales and sets the bag on the coffee table before turning to face me. “First off, you’re deflecting. Second, motherhood is scary, yeah, but Jim and I are really happy.” Some of the color returns to her face as her lips turn up into a big grin. “I’m not afraid of having kids with the man I love, I’m afraid that...” She swallows hard and I reach out to grip her hand where it lies clenched in her lap.

“What?”

“Santoro.”

The crime boss’s name is a dropped bomb between the two of us and the silence grows heavy.

“His trial’s coming up.” It isn’t a question, but she nods anyway. I grip her hand as she begins to shake and squeeze it gently. “He’s going to get what he deserves, Taya, and you won’t ever have to think about him again.”

Taya laughs, but the tone is flat, forced, and without humor. “My brain tells me he can’t hurt me.” She shakes her head and her eyes glisten with newly formed tears. “But my heart? Inara, it’s saying something entirely different. I can’t help but think that once I let my guard down, someone else is going to swoop in and destroy everything Jim and I have built. And to bring a baby into the mix...”

I’d love nothing more than to march into the prison holding Santoro and beat him senseless for everything he did to Taya and all the ways he still affects her life. She doesn’t deserve to go through any of it. No matter how much I want to fix it for her, to make it all go away, I’m practical enough to know that there’s only so much I can do.

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