Perfect Match

By AG Meiers

Secrets can derail even the most powerful attraction....

Logger Sven Larson has never found a man worth publicly coming out of the closet for. But his family has other plans. As a thirtieth birthday gift, his mother hires the online dating service Perfect Match to find Sven the love of his life. To say Sven isn't thrilled is an understatement, but it's too late to cancel, and Jayden Calver arrives.

Perfect Match's success rate is unsurpassed, but they don't come by it honestly: if a client can't be matched, the agency uses a stand-in to fulfil their guarantee and protect their profit.

Tough luck has left Jayden in debt, and playing Perfect Match's deceptive game is his only option. So he travels — sparkling toenails and all — to a remote camp deep in the mountains to meet Sven Larson and pretend to be his perfect match for a few days.

Sparks fly on first contact. But as the two men get closer, Sven grows more and more suspicious of Jayden, and Jayden struggles with guilt over his deceit. They both want a future together, but first they must find the courage to be honest with themselves and each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Riptide Publishing
• Release date: Jan 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781626498495

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Riptide Publishing

PO Box 1537

Burnsville, NC 28714

www.riptidepublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.

Perfect Match

Copyright © 2019 by AG Meiers

Smashwords Edition

Cover art: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design-portfolio.html

Editor: Carole-ann Galloway

Layout: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design-portfolio.html

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at [e-mail].

ISBN: 978-1-62649-849-5

First edition

January, 2019

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Secrets can derail even the most powerful attraction.

Logger Sven Larson has never found a man worth publicly coming out of the closet for. But his family has other plans. As a thirtieth birthday gift, his mother hires the online dating service Perfect Match to find Sven the love of his life. To say Sven isn’t thrilled is an understatement, but it’s too late to cancel, and Jayden Calver arrives.

Perfect Match’s success rate is unsurpassed, but they don’t come by it honestly: if a client can’t be matched, the agency uses a stand-in to fulfil their guarantee and protect their profit.

Tough luck has left Jayden in debt, and playing Perfect Match’s deceptive game is his only option. So he travels—sparkling toenails and all—to a remote camp deep in the mountains to meet Sven Larson and pretend to be his perfect match for a few days.

Sparks fly on first contact. But as the two men get closer, Sven grows more and more suspicious of Jayden, and Jayden struggles with guilt over his deceit. They both want a future together, but first they must find the courage to be honest with themselves and each other.

For Matt—I love you.

About Perfect Match

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Dear Reader

About the Author

More like this

Perfect Match Commitment #1:

There is a perfect match out there for everyone, and we make it our mission to find yours.

Please, don’t leave me here, Jayden pleaded with the driver again. You can’t do this! This is— The right words to express his horror escaped him. It’s . . . it’s not safe. There are all kinds of wild animals here. Bears! Wolves! It’s dangerous. Please. I can pay you. I’ve got money. Just—

His suitcase hit the wet road with a thud as he clung to the cushion of the back seat. A few minutes ago, Jayden had been silently complaining about the reeking, smoke-filled car. Now, it seemed like a sanctuary compared to the storm raging outside.

Told ya. You were booked to the bridge, not down to the camp. Ride ends here. The giant, chain-smoking lumberjack, who was wrapped in yards of flannel, grabbed Jayden’s arm and yanked him out of the car.

As he crashed against the man’s body, Jayden got a full whiff of stale cigarette smoke, old sweat, and worse . . . Puke maybe? Dead cat? He suppressed a gag.

Standing on the gravel road, he felt as if he were on a helicopter pad at takeoff. Howling like a chopper engine, the wind ripped at his clothes. Before he could regain his balance, flannel man slammed the back door shut again. Filthy faggot!

Me? Filthy? You’re kidding, right? Jayden yelled at the quickly disappearing taillights. Rain pelted against the exposed skin of his face. Jayden struggled to zip up his jacket with numb fingers. It didn’t matter that he had prepared for cold. That he had planned his trip to the Canadian Northwest for weeks. It had all been for nothing. His carefully selected gloves, scarf, and heavy down jacket were soaked through.

Squinting into the night, he could barely see the small, rickety bridge and narrow dirt road beyond, winding into the dark woods. The bridge. Born and raised in Philadelphia, the city kid in Jayden was still hung up about the fact that the bridge seemed to be a perfectly acceptable landmark out here. But in fairness, since the car had left the small airfield, he hadn’t seen anything but trees, so the bridge was indeed recognizable.

Slowly, he started walking across the roaring river. The water was so high it almost flooded over the low, wooden structure. A small, rapid stream of water had already pushed over the side of the bank and was gushing onto the road. Jayden swallowed his mounting fear and kept trudging along.

Just this morning, Alex, who planned all the trips at Perfect Match, had walked Jayden through the travel arrangements. It had sounded so well organized. Methodically planned like everything at Perfect Match, the online dating agency where Jayden worked. But then, his flight in Cody had been delayed, and things had only gotten worse once he’d left civilization in Vancouver. Now he found himself dragging a heavy suitcase over a flooded dirt road in a torrential downpour.

Before the driver had kicked him out, he’d mumbled something about two miles down to the camp headquarters. Jayden could handle two miles. He’d be okay.

Famous last words.

Anger and adrenaline carried him for a while, but then an extremely vicious gust of wind ripped the hood of his jacket down. The rain pierced him like icy needles. He wasn’t going to let a rude homophobe or a rainstorm get the better of him, though. Jayden needed this assignment. He needed it to go well. So he readjusted his carry-on backpack, clamped down on the suitcase handle, and continued to stumble down the narrow tire tracks.

Alex hadn’t only booked all travel accommodations. For the last two weeks he and others had worked relentlessly to turn Jayden into the dream boyfriend for Perfect Match’s latest problem client, Sven Larson. Jayden had memorized Larson’s profile and all his answers from the online questionnaire. Everyone at the agency had drummed into him that in order to be successful with his assignment he needed to know his target inside out. To craft the illusion of a perfect match, Jayden needed to create instant intimacy.

Stumbling through the freezing rain, Jayden went through Larson’s personal info in his mind again. Thirty years old. Six feet two inches. Blue eyes. Blond hair. In his photo, Larson looked like he came straight out of the TV series The Vikings with his blond hair, slightly crooked nose, and lots of facial hair. A beard wasn’t really Jayden’s thing, but he could definitely get behind the whole Norse-warrior image.

The picture had been a candid. Larson had a warm, friendly smile, which Jayden tried to remember now to give him some courage. He worked as a logger and forester, but some research online also produced a few articles Larson had published about national parks in Canada, sustainable tourism, and the logging industry. His Facebook page also advertised him as a freelance writer.

Another vicious gust blew a wet leaf in Jayden’s face. That, along, with the biting winds and freezing rain quickly erased any spirit Jayden had left. He tried to hide under some branches that were lining the road, to get away from the rain and catch his breath, but whenever he stopped, the darkness and the sounds of the woods freaked him out. Every gloomy shadow looked like a hungry bear or a lurking wolf. Better to just keep walking.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally saw a faint light in the distance. He squinted, trying to make out the small yellowish-white dot. Thank God, it seemed to become bigger as he staggered on.

He kept focused on the light, promptly got his foot tangled, and went down hard on his knee. When he pulled himself up again, muddy water gushed through his jeans, down his leg, and into his boot. Jayden was too tired to care. Yeah, he needed to make a good first impression, but now all he wanted was to get out of the storm.

It’s gonna be all right! Things will work out! Jayden whispered stupid encouragements to himself, but the words were drowned out by the howling wind.

His banged-up knee throbbed. His jacket was drenched and cold water started running down his back. Despite the pouring rain, Jayden had to stop to catch his breath and rest his leg several times. When he reached a low, long building huddled against the base of a mountain, Jayden had just enough strength left to open the heavy wood door. The warmth of the room was an immediate reward. He slipped through the opening and let his suitcase sink to the floor. Ignoring everything else, he closed his eyes and simply soaked in the heat.

There he is! Finally!

Christ! He’s a fairy, all right!

His relief to be out of the cold turned into panic in an instant. No, not again. He’d heard all these slurs before. Jayden opened his eyes and tried to orientate himself. A bunch of tall, burly men were getting up from a table in the middle of the room, a mass of flannel shirts, work boots, and dark beards. They were the type of men who usually took offense to Jayden’s longish hair and the eyeliner he’d carefully put on this morning. Men Jayden tried to avoid; now he’d walked straight into their lair.

Larson, just look at him. You could crush him with one hand. He’s tiny. One of the lumberjacks with bright-red hair walked toward Jayden, shaking his head. His voice boomed across the room. Jayden shrank back, hitting the door. Oh, please, no, he whispered.

Shut up, Greg. You’re scaring him. A huge blond man stepped forward and stretched out his arm for Jayden, who pressed himself hard against the door. His injured knee gave out, and he sank to the floor. There was nowhere to hide.

Please don’t hurt me. They said I wouldn’t get hurt. They said I would be okay. Please.

The sound of his shivering, begging voice frustrated the hell out of him. He was so done with being scared, but the memory of the dark bedroom and the beating he’d taken was still too fresh. His body was shaking hard and it was difficult to breathe. Fear and frustration were threatening to overwhelm him.

But while his mind was close to giving up, his body mobilized some last-resort survival skills. Numb fingers balled into fists, a spike of anger rushed through his body, and in a final attempt to defend himself, he snarled, Back off.

Perfect Match Commitment #2:

Male? Gay? For us, you are not a side business, you are our focus.

Here we go. Sven had dreaded this moment all day long. Actually, he had dreaded this exact moment ever since his cousin Greg spilled the beans and Sven found out that his family had gone online to find him true love. He still couldn’t believe that they’d invited a complete stranger to their home. Sven wasn’t sure there was such a thing as a perfect match, but he was damn sure it couldn’t be purchased on the internet. He didn’t do online dating, and he for sure didn’t have time for a mail-order boyfriend or whatever this was. His family’s unrealistic— No, scratch that—his family’s crazy expectations made him sick to his stomach. This whole idea had disaster written all over it.

A four-hour delay, a friendly game of poker with the guys, and a third beer had lured Sven into the false hope that maybe Jayden Calver wouldn’t show, but then he’d heard the telltale click of the lodge’s front door.

The small figure didn’t step far into the room, but only slipped through a narrow crack of the open door, tugged in a sodden suitcase, and let the door fall back into its lock. Everyone was stunned into silence by the soaking-wet newcomer, who leaned against the wall next to the entrance, a dark hoodie shadowing his face. He was covered in mud up to his knees. Dirty puddles formed quickly on the wooden floor.

It was only when the young man pushed his hood back exposing his pale, exhausted face, that Sven’s family had come to life again. Of course, giant Petrovic, who even in bright daylight was a scary dude, reached the door first and then Greg’s booming voice promptly scared the kid out of his ever-fucking mind. Goddamn. Shoving his friend and his cousin out of the way, Sven crouched down, trying to salvage the botched welcome.

Jayden, it’s me. Sven, Sven said, forcing a smile. Don’t be scared. We talked on Skype two days ago. Remember?

Sven? Oh, no. I— Jayden looked utterly confused and turned another shade paler. With his dark eyes full of exhaustion, fear, and distress, he reminded Sven of the newborn fawn he had pulled out of the river last spring. Jayden barely resembled the laughing young man from the profile pictures the agency had sent.

Oh, good Lord! Let the boy up! His mom’s voice cut through the commotion. Just look at the state of him. Come closer to the fire and warm yourself. Orla stepped in and half dragged Jayden to the roaring fire. Jayden’s face was almost white, with angry red blotches from the cold. Brown hair stuck to his face in a tangled, wet mess, and his lips had a bluish tint.

Sit yourself down, Orla commanded. Uncle Elliot brought over a chair, and Orla pushed a dripping Jayden into it. I’ll get you a cup of nice hot tea. You’re frozen to the bone. This is no night to be walking in the rain.

Her comment pulled Sven back into the discussion. Why were you out there walking anyway? he asked. We booked you a ride from the airfield. Paid for it too.

It wasn’t enough, Jayden replied hesitantly, blushing. The driver said he could bring me to the bridge, but not all the way down to the camp.

That’s bullshit. We paid enough to get you down here and back. Greg’s loud voice made the kid flinch again. The men around him grumbled in confirmation.

Jayden looked up, his big doe-eyes meeting Sven’s. Sven had to strain to understand the mumbled reply. It was a long drive. I . . . I didn’t know.

Just then another full-body shiver went through Jayden, and Sven’s family burst into activity. Elliot added a few extra logs to the fire even though the room was pretty warm already. Orla went to the kitchen to get him something hot to drink. Petrovic took the wet jacket and shook out the water, sending the content of the pockets flying. A few pieces of paper looking like boarding passes, a set of keys, and lip gloss sailed through the air. The pink lip gloss rolled right in front of Greg, whose eyes turned into saucers. Luckily, Orla came back before he could comment, and she pushed a cup of hot tea into Jayden’s hand. There now, take a nice long drink. It’s not too hot.

City Boy took a sip and immediately coughed and wheezed. Everyone around him grinned. Orla’s tea was always spiked. She started laughing and pounded his back. I poured some whiskey in your cup. You’re so ghostly pale. Thought you could use it. My name’s Orla O’Conner, by the way. I’m Sven’s mom.

Jayden gave her a careful smile. I’m Jayden. Jayden Calver. I’m sorry for the mess. I didn’t mean . . . His eyes glanced at the puddles and the mud, but then he straightened his shoulders. Thank you for the tea. It’s . . . good.

Don’t you worry. We’ll have you warm in no time. Now, take those shoes off. You’ll catch your death with all these wet clothes on. Before Jayden could protest, quick hands pulled off his shoes and wet socks.

Just look at his toes, Greg bellowed. They sparkle. Sven, your mail-order bride has glittering toenails.

There was a quick shuffle around him as everyone wanted to glance at Jayden’s naked feet. Petrovic laughed out loud, but Sven saw disgust in Elliot’s face. It didn’t surprise him. Uncle Elliot was old-school.

But mail-order bride? No. Despite his huge eyes, pink lip gloss, and painted toenails, the figure in front of Sven was all male. Square shoulders stretched the thin material of the long-sleeve shirt across his chest, and the hint of scruff on his chin and cheeks left no doubt.

No . . . it was meant to be a surprise for . . . Jayden’s distraught eyes searched for Sven, but when he caught Sven’s frown, he dropped his eyes again. Your profile said you like surprises. Jayden still evaded eye contact, and he helplessly tried to hide his naked feet by curling them against his wet pants, and despite Sven’s annoyance with the whole situation, the motion tugged at his heart.

Without much thought, Sven crouched down. He took his shirt off and covered the glittering toes, tucking the soft, faded material around them. Jayden’s gaze roamed over Sven’s T-shirt-covered chest, and then, swallowing hard, he looked into Sven’s eyes.

Damn, Jayden still seemed scared. But what the fuck had he expected?

They actually had talked in their one and only call before Jayden’s visit about the fact that Cold Creek was a rough place. Thank God Greg couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. His cousin’s