Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Mistletoe Matchmaker

Mistletoe Matchmaker
Lissa Manley


Pet store owner Molly Kent can't help smiling when Grant Roderick chases his aunt's poodle into her shop. Grant, who's pet-sitting, doesn't know much about dogs and welcomes Molly's offer of help. Little does Grant know that Molly's also a matchmaker—not that he's looking for love. Yet the more time they spend together, the more Molly wonders if Grant may be her perfect match.But how can she get involved with a workaholic after being raised by one? They'll both have to put their trust in God if they want to find happiness for the holidays.







Love on her doorstep?

Pet store owner Molly Kent can’t help smiling when Grant Roderick chases his aunt’s poodle into her shop. Grant, who’s pet-sitting, doesn’t know much about dogs and welcomes Molly’s offer of help. Little does Grant know that Molly’s also a matchmaker—not that he’s looking for love.

Yet the more time they spend together, the more Molly wonders if Grant may be her perfect match. But how can she get involved with a workaholic after being raised by one? They’ll both have to put their trust in God if they want to find happiness for the holidays.


Matchmaking rule #1: don’t get caught up in your prospects. Even if they are gorgeous and charming.

“I watched you stare at Grant when he walked away.” Phoebe drilled Molly with her all-seeing gaze. “You were interested all right.”

“I was interested because my matchmaker radar went off when I met him,” Molly said.

Phoebe frowned. “Because...you wanted to fix him up with me?”

“Yep. That’s what I do, Phoebs.”

“You know I’m not looking for romance,” Phoebe said.

“Maybe this time it would be different.”

“I doubt it. You of all people should know that.”

Molly agreed with Phoebe. She’d always dreamed of falling in love, but she’d given up on romance. Safer that way. “Things change. Maybe it’s time.”

“You can say whatever you want, but you’re the one who’ll be seeing him again, not me,” Phoebe said.

A little frisson of excitement squiggled through Molly at the thought of seeing Grant again, taking her a bit off guard. She’d need to watch those reactions. Rule number one couldn’t be ignored. Ever.


LISSA MANLEY

decided she wanted to be a published author at the ripe old age of twelve. She read her first romance novel as a teenager when a neighbor gave her a box of old books, and she quickly decided romance was her favorite genre, although she still enjoys digging in to a good medical thriller.

When her youngest was still in diapers, Lissa needed a break from strollers and runny noses, so she sat down and started crafting a romance, and she has been writing ever since. Nine years later she sold her first book, fulfilling her childhood dream. She feels blessed to be able to write what she loves, and intends to be writing until her fingers quit working, or she runs out of heartwarming stories to tell. She’s betting the fingers will go first.

Lissa lives in the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon, with her wonderful husband of twenty-seven years, a grown daughter and college-aged son, and two bossy poodles who rule the house and get away with it. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, crafting, bargain hunting, cooking and decorating. She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached through her website, www.lissamanley.com, or through Love Inspired Books.


Lissa Manley

Mistletoe Matchmaker










www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice: and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God forgave you.

—Ephesians 4:31–32


This book is dedicated to my longtime critique partners, Terri Reed and Leah Vale. As always, thanks, guys, for helping me finally get this book right! I really couldn’t have done it without you.


Contents

Chapter One (#u3e34b313-d173-5b1f-b25b-d768fd7976b0)

Chapter Two (#u387975af-88c3-5401-ade9-2f79de414749)

Chapter Three (#u823bf4b7-87b7-53df-bbf7-122c5e616ab0)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

“Stop that dog!”

The words were barely out of Grant Roderick’s mouth before he realized they were futile. Nothing was going to stop the streak of white fluff running down the Christmas-bedecked boardwalk of Main Street in Moonlight Cove, Washington.

Crazy mutt. Fast, too. Fast, and sneaky enough to have bolted by him when he’d opened the front door of his aunt’s house to get the mail.

Grant followed Jade, his aunt’s white standard poodle—the one he was supposed to be taking care of—running like a madman trying to keep up with the runaway dog. Thankfully, the dog looked smart enough to keep out of the street and away from cars. If anything happened to Jade, he’d never forgive himself.

Grant dodged a holiday shopper coming out of one of the many quaint stores lining the street. “’Scuse me,” he said, straining his neck to keep an eye on Jade. If he lost sight of the dog, he’d never get a hold of her. How could he have let the crazy canine get the better of him one measly day into his house/dog-sitting duty?

All of a sudden, Jade stopped so fast she almost left paw skid marks. Yes! A block behind, Grant kept running, hoping she stayed put so he could grab her. He had work to do, work that didn’t involve chasing naughty dogs all over town.

He drew closer, and Jade put her large, furry paws onto the Christmas-light-festooned window of a store and let out a hearty woof. Then she dropped to all fours again. Grant kept moving, closing the distance between them, pretty much expecting her to take off when he got within grabbing distance. She was clever, he’d give her that. She’d outsmarted him. For a while.

But she stayed by the store, her white pom-pom tail wagging up a storm. Just as she reared up on her hind legs again and pawed the air with her front paws, he was in striking distance.

I’ve got you now!

He lunged for her collar…and saw the store door open to his left. As quick as a cat—for a large dog—Jade jumped forward and through the open door. She looked like she was smiling as she dodged past him.

He fell forward, unable to stop his momentum, and crashed to the thankfully dry boardwalk with a bone-jarring thud. The air whooshed out of him instantly, and he couldn’t draw a breath to save his life.

He rolled onto his back, cringing, wondering if anything was broken. He lay there for a moment, flopped out like a dead fish.

Just as he managed to choke some air in, a feminine voice exclaimed, “Oh, my goodness, are you all right?”

He looked up and saw a very pretty woman with a mass of long curly red hair and cute freckles staring down at him, her eyebrows drawn together over a set of gorgeous green eyes.

His cheeks burned. Great. He’d fallen down in front of the most attractive woman he’d seen in a long time. All he could do was groan, his pain mingling with complete embarrassment.

Not exactly a stellar way to start his time in Moonlight Cove, was it?



Molly Kent looked down at the blond man lying on the sidewalk in front of her store, Bow Wow Boutique, concern rippling through her. He’d hit the deck pretty hard.

Given that he was chasing Jade, Molly surmised this guy had to be her friend Rose Latham’s nephew, Grant Roderick, whom Rose had enlisted to pet-sit Jade while she went on a Hawaiian honeymoon with her new husband and former neighbor, Benny Fulton.

“I’m fine,” the man said from between clenched teeth. With a grimace that told Molly he wasn’t all that fine, he got his feet underneath him and stood.

Peter and Parker, her two schnauzers, barked from within the store, clearly excited by Jade’s arrival, as well as, Molly supposed, the commotion outside. Their bell-trimmed Christmas collars jingled with every yip.

“Are you sure?” She reached out a hand but stopped short of touching him when she got a look at him dead-on. Her breath snagged. Never in her wildest imaginings had she expected Rose’s nephew, whom the older woman had described as a socially backward computer jockey with a serious need to get out more, to be so attractive. He was tall, had nicely chiseled features and a strong, shadowed jaw. Cute. Very cute.

He nodded, his face slightly red, giving her a crooked smile, then spread his well-muscled arms wide. “Luckily, I’m pretty tough.” The short-sleeved navy blue polo shirt he wore emphasized that he was in serious shape—and that he hadn’t left the house prepared for the chilly December weather.

“You must be Grant,” she said, feeling her face heat a teensy bit. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he made his living in front of a camera rather than behind a computer.

“Right,” he said. “I suppose chasing Jade gave me away.”

“I saw you through the window.” She held out a hand. “I’m Molly Kent.”

He shook her hand, his grasp strong. And undeniably warm. “Nice to meet you, Molly Kent.”

He looked right at her, and she couldn’t help but notice his eyes were a really compelling blue. She tried not to stare.

Feeling a bit off-kilter from his killer good looks, she fell back on manners and familiar territory. “Now that Jade is contained, would you like something to drink? I have a fridge in the back.” Molly had promised Rose she would look after Grant and Jade while Rose was gone, and Molly never reneged on a promise. Besides, being needed felt good.

“Sorry,” he said. “I have work to do.”

Molly raised a brow and looked at Jade as she panted in between drinks from the water bowl Molly kept out for Peter and Parker, and any other dogs who visited. “Jade needs a rest,” she said pointedly. “And you look like maybe you do, too.”

“Yeah, I guess maybe I do,” he admitted. “Even though it’s cold out, I ran all the way here and really got my blood flowing.” He glanced at Jade, who, Molly noted, was now chasing Peter and Parker around one of the pet food displays, having turned their attention from Grant and Molly to each other. All three dogs barked in delight as they ran in a wide circle, around and around and around.

He shook his head. “She’s clever and fast. I’m a runner, and even I couldn’t keep up with her.”

She chuckled, then gestured him in, her eyes on the rambunctious canine trio. “Especially when she’s motivated to find her way here for lots of doggy fun. As you can see, they all love to play.”

“And pull off successful escapes.” Grant grimaced as he followed her in, closing the door behind him. “I’m pretty sure she was waiting for me to open the door so she could take off.”

Molly laughed as she navigated her way around the Christmas squeaky-toy display. “You’re probably right. Jade is a handful. Even Rose and Benny have a hard time curbing her wandering tendencies.”

Grant trailed behind her. “I guess I don’t feel so bad then, for letting my guard down long enough for her to escape.”

Molly reached the back room. “No, you shouldn’t. Jade is kind of high maintenance, especially if she misses playtime.” She opened the mini-refrigerator on the right, pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to him. She jumped a bit when their fingers touched. Whoa.

She cleared her throat. “Just a hint, but a played-out dog is a contented dog, and will want to be your constant companion.” She paused for effect. “Did you remember playtime?”

He furrowed his brow as he twisted open the water bottle’s top. “Oh, yeah…playtime.” He shook his head, then drank some water. “I forgot.”

She’d thought so. “Well, again, don’t worry. If she escapes again, Jade always comes to visit me and my two dogs, so I can just bring her back.”

“Okay,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve never owned a dog. This is all new to me.” He turned and looked at the mangled bright yellow remnant of what had to be a tennis ball Jade dropped on the floor behind him. “Do they all have such…disgusting toys?”

Molly smiled. So, he was clueless about dogs, something she found surprisingly endearing. Good thing she was the resident dog expert around Moonlight Cove. She had a lot to teach him. “Pretty much. My two schnauzers each have four or five tennis balls rolling around, and they’re all pretty slobbery.”

“And smelly,” he replied, making a face. “Maybe I should buy her a new, clean one.”

Molly appreciated his suggestion. He caught on fast. “Well, you could, but it’ll be gross, too, pretty quickly, won’t it?”

He smiled. “I guess so. Maybe I need an endless supply.”

Molly’s heart rate kicked up a notch at his gorgeous smile—including dimples—and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.

She forced her thoughts back to the conversation at hand, wishing her heart rate would slow down a teensy bit. “The Sports Shack sells them. I’d give you one, but Jade likes the ones fresh out of the can.” She remembered something. “Hey, I’m guessing you can get a family discount since Kim is married to the Sports Shack’s owner, Seth.”

Seth and Grant’s cousin, Kim, had met five months ago when she and her seven-year-old son had come to Moonlight Cove to live with her and Grant’s aunt Rose. Seth had saved Kim from drowning in a riptide off Moonlight Cove Beach, and Kim had ended up working in his store. Soon after, they fell in love, and the rest was history.

“Good point. I met Seth when he, Kim and Dylan came to visit me in August.”

A thought occurred to Molly. “You weren’t at their wedding, though, were you?” The happy bride and groom had been married this past September in a lovely ceremony at Moonlight Cove Community Church, followed by a reception on the beach where they’d met.

Grant shook his head. “No, I couldn’t make it.”

“For your cousin’s wedding?” Kind of an important event to miss.…

His jaw tightened, and he seemed to be squirming. “I was out of the country for work.”

Molly nodded. Seemed as if Grant was a workaholic. Remembered pain shot through Molly. Her father had missed her high school graduation because of work, too. Never again.

Shoving aside past hurts, she said, “Well, since you missed the nuptials, I’m happy to report that Seth and Kim are very happy, and completely devoted to each other and Dylan.” Truth be told, Molly kind of envied the love they shared and the family they’d built, though she knew that kind of love wasn’t in the cards for her. From now on, she would only let God into her heart—she could depend on Him to never let her down.

“Good to know,” Grant said evenly.

“My friend Phoebe told me they went to Seattle.”

“Yeah. Seth had some kind of Mariners function for former players.”

Seth had played for the Seattle Mariners for three years before coming back home to Moonlight Cove to take over running the Sports Shack from his father.

“Did they kennel Cleo?” Molly asked. “I hope not. I would have been glad to keep her.”

Jade had had a litter of pups in June, and Rose and Benny had given Cleo, one of Jade’s puppies, to Dylan soon after Kim and Seth got engaged.

Grant shook his head. “Nah, they took her with them. Rose told me Dylan just about had a hissy fit when they talked about leaving her here.”

“Not surprising. Dylan and Cleo come in here all the time to play with Peter and Parker and to pick out toys. He’s pretty attached to her.” She made a face. “But I’m not sure I’d want to take her on vacation.”

“Why not?”

“She’s even wilder than Jade,” Molly said, quirking a brow.

He looked horrified. “Is that possible?” he asked, glancing sideways at Jade. She was still madly chasing the jingling Peter and Parker in circles around the predominantly green and red displays, their toenails clickety-clacking on the dog-practical linoleum floor. “She seems pretty wild to me.”

“You think this is wild?” she asked, gesturing with her head toward Jade. “Wait till you meet Cleo.”

He took a swig of water, then returned her smile, his eyes sparkling. “I’m not sure I want to,” he said, clearly joking.

She stared at him for a moment, really liking his sense of humor. Then she caught herself and dragged her gaze away. “Listen,” she said, moving around him and out into the middle of the store, next to the leash display, where there was more space. “If you want me to pick up some tennis balls for Jade after work, I’d be happy to drop them off later.”

He raised his blond brows. “No, that’s fine. I don’t want to put you out.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be putting me out. I need to pick up some fishing lures for my elderly neighbor from the Sports Shack, anyway. Floyd broke his leg and still wants to go on a fishing trip, wheelchair and all, with one of his buddies. I promised when I checked on him last night to deliver some lures later today.”

“Well…that’d be great.” Grant glanced quickly at his sporty-looking watch, then frowned slightly. “Oh, wow. Look at the time. Tick-tock. I really should get back to work.”

“Tight deadline?”

“Extremely tight,” he replied, rubbing his jaw. “I have to have this job done by January 1 for initial system testing, and then the rest completed by the middle of January, which is an insane deadline for this kind of a product. So that means I have days and days of nothing but work ahead of me.”

She had visions of him working day and night, alone and isolated, his job his only focus.

Sounded sadly familiar. Would Grant someday be like her dad, all alone, because he chose work over everything else? She hoped not. Her dad had ended up pretty unhappy, with no one. Molly couldn’t think of anything worse.

Thankfully, she had her large group of friends to keep her company. And God, of course.

Molly hadn’t grown up going to church, but ever since she’d come to Moonlight Cove, she’d found great comfort and sense of family at the Moonlight Cove Community Church.

“I’m happy to help out,” she told Grant. “Your aunt asked me to look in on you and Jade. She said you get all tied up in work and forget to take breaks to eat.” She smiled. Although, she had to admit, he didn’t look particularly underfed. A guy didn’t get enough muscles to stretch a T-shirt just right by not eating well.

Molly blushed at her train of thought.

He lifted his strong chin and peered at her from under incredibly long lashes. “My aunt asked you to check up on me?”

“Kind of, but not in a bad way. Rose just thought you might need some help.” She pointedly looked at Jade, who was now flopped on her back, her paws in the air, wrestling with Peter and Parker. “You said yourself you don’t have any experience with dogs.”

He chuckled, then held his hands up in the air like the dog, the light in his eyes dancing. My, he was handsome. “Touché. I’m clueless,” he reminded her.

“Not exactly clueless,” she replied, heading toward the front counter. “Just inexperienced.”

She leaned over the counter and picked up a gift-wrapped sample package of the chicken liver dog treats she had on display next to the register. “Here’s my tip. Keep some of these with you at all times. Jade will never leave your side.” She handed the treats to him. “I know for a fact she loves them.”

He took the package, looking dubious. “You sure?”

The sound of twelve paws skittering on the floor echoed through the store.

“I’m sure,” she replied with a wry twist of her lips as she nodded to the three dogs who now sat obediently at his heels. “They’re giving you their best ‘we’re starving to death’ looks right now.”

He glanced down at the supposedly starving dogs.

“Now you know my big secret,” she said with mock-seriousness. “With those treats, you’ll be the Dog Whisperer in no time. Take those, on the house.”

“Thanks,” Grant said, tucking the small pouch of treats in his back pants pocket. “I’ll be sure and keep these handy.”

“Glad to help,” Molly replied truthfully.

Grant cast his gaze around. “Um…do you by chance have a leash I could borrow? Now that I’ve got Jade under control, I don’t think I want to let her loose again.”

“Sure thing.” Molly headed to the front of the store and grabbed one of her own leashes from a hook by the door. She held it out for Grant. “Here you go. I’ll just get it back when I deliver the tennis balls.”

Grant walked over and took the leash, his blunt fingers brushing Molly’s again. “Thanks.”

Her breathing hiccupped.

“I really appreciate your help. Obviously, I need it,” he said, his gaze as warm as a sun-splashed Caribbean ocean.

She stared at him for a moment, then pried her gaze away, trying not to lose herself in his stunning eyes. “It’s the least I can do for Rose and Benny.” Never mind a nice guy who was handsome and charming to boot.

All three dogs came belatedly running when they caught sight of the leash, clearly making the connection between it and the possibility of a walk.

“Sure you don’t want to take all three?” Molly asked brightly, her tone teasing. “You’ve got treats and a leash. Doesn’t get any better when you’re a dog.”

Grant considered Peter, Parker and Jade, who were now excitedly dancing the cha-cha around his feet. “No sirree,” he replied, wagging his head. “I can barely handle one. Three…? No way am I ready for that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a few mutts,” she said mischievously, enjoying her and Grant’s flirting…um, banter.

He gave her a serious look. “Hey, I almost lost my aunt’s beloved pet, and the crazy dog managed to make me fall on my face in front of a pretty lady. You bet I’m scared.”

She felt a flush of pleasure. He thought she was pretty? “Don’t be,” she managed. “As long as you establish yourself as the pack leader, you’ll be good.”

“Pack. Leader.” He flexed like a he-man body builder. “Got it.”

Molly giggled unabashedly at his antics. Add sense of humor to the list of his attractive traits. Not that she was paying attention. At least not for herself. But as the town’s matchmaker, she was always keeping an eye out for eligible singles.

“I’ve got to head home,” Grant said, holding up the leash. “Any tips for getting this thing on?”

She nodded toward the chicken liver treats in his back pocket. “Hold up one of those, ask her to sit and hook ’er up. Should be easy.”

“Whatever you say.” Grant took the treats out of his pocket, ripped the Christmas wrap off and fished a few from the bag. He faced the dancing bevy of dogs and asked Jade to sit in a firm, deep voice that resonated in Molly.

All three dogs sat.

“What do you know?” Grant said, giving each one of them a treat.

Molly squatted and held on to Jade just as Grant leaned down to hook the leash to Jade’s collar. His face came close, and she got a whiff of his aftershave, all spicy and clean, and another look, up close and personal, at his impossibly long eyelashes framing his eyes.

She fought the crazy urge to run her fingers over those lashes. Instead, she concentrated on the inane detail of the curly texture of Jade’s nose fur.

Grant hesitated, just a few inches away, seemingly concentrating on hooking the leash onto the ring on Jade’s bright pink collar.

Molly chastised herself for being so drawn to him, so caught up in the details of everything about him. What was wrong with her, anyway?

He got the leash attached, and he straightened.

Molly let herself draw a breath, realizing she’d been holding it.

“That was easy,” he said. “Thanks again for your help. I think I’ve got the hang of this dog stuff now.”

“Great. You’re a fast learner.” Good. No, bad…he wouldn’t need her around now.

Thrown off balance by her weird thoughts, Molly focused on instructing him how to give the standard poodle another treat, complete with “Good dog, Jade.” She fell back on the familiar to keep herself on an even keel and to counteract her attraction to him. She had to get herself together.

He was Rose’s nephew. Not some guy she wanted to date. Well…she’d kind of like to date him, but wouldn’t. Too much danger down that trail.

The buzzer on the front door sounded, heralding the arrival of a customer. Molly looked over and saw her friend Phoebe Sellers walk in, right on schedule for their lunch date.

Her single friend.…

Instantly, Molly’s trusty matchmaker hat figuratively popped onto her head. She quirked a brow as she realized that Phoebe might be Grant’s perfect match.

Making a mental note to strategize about setting them up, she headed toward Phoebe. “Come on over and meet Phoebe,” she said to Grant. Might as well see if sparks flew.

Even little sparkles would help tell the story. Fortunately, it didn’t take much for Molly to sense who belonged with whom. Some said she had a gift for recognizing perfect matches, and with eight successful ones in the last two years, she’d have to agree.

“Phoebe, this is Grant Roderick, Rose’s nephew.” Molly turned to Grant. “Grant, this is Phoebe Sellers. She owns the ice cream store up the street.”

Grant extended his hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s mutual,” Phoebe said as she shook his hand, a decidedly speculative gleam in her blue eyes.

Oooh. Gleamy eyes. Always a good sign.

“How long have you owned the ice cream place?” Grant asked.

His interest in Phoebe had Molly’s rapt attention.

“About a year and a half,” Phoebe said, unwinding her fluffy black scarf from around her neck. “But I was born and raised in Moonlight Cove.”

“Ah, a local girl,” Grant said. “Looks like you’ve put down roots. You must like it here.”

Aha. Mention of roots. Wonderful.

“I love it,” Phoebe replied. “How long will you be staying?”

Interest, or just politeness? Phoebe had sworn off romance, too, but minds could be changed if need be. Maybe.

“Aunt Rose and Benny will be back just before New Year’s Eve,” Grant said. “So I’ll be around for a while.”

“Well, it’s good to have a new face around here.” Phoebe smiled. “Small towns tend to get a bit boring.”

Molly watched the whole exchange with interest, taking mental notes. No giant sparks yet, but it was early. And the gleam in Phoebe’s eyes and Grant’s questions…well, it could bode fairly well for a tidy setup.

Anticipation sparked; Molly couldn’t wait to sink her chops into a good matchmaking prospect. She delighted in helping others find the true love she would never have; if she couldn’t have a soul mate, well, then at least she could be a part of helping others find that special someone. It would be the closest she’d ever get to a happily ever after.

She pushed away the sadness that thought caused and tuned back to the matchmaking opportunity at hand. True love was elusive, and it took skill to make good matches that lasted; she’d have to pay attention.

“You two want to hang around awhile and just…talk?” Molly asked.

Grant held up Jade’s leash. “Sorry, I can’t. I need to get going.” He gave a mock-salute. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure.”

Phoebe murmured her goodbye in unison with Molly, and Grant left, Jade trotting obediently at his side, her tail held high.

Molly watched him go. Nice guy. Very appealing.

If she were looking for a friendly, charming, all-work-and-no-play kind of guy. Which she definitely wasn’t. At least not for herself. But Phoebe? Now, that was a different story.

Molly turned around to find her blonde friend standing right behind her, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s very cute,” Phoebe said, one brow arched.

Good sign. Physical attraction definitely played a part in who was meant to be together. Not the whole part, of course, but an important piece for sure.

“You think so?” Molly asked, careful to hide her matchmaker’s eagerness by looking at a tiny green-and-red cable-knit dog sweater.

“Definitely attractive,” she said, sounding amused.

Molly looked up at Phoebe. Her friend had her lips curved into a smile that definitely held a sly edge. “Maybe he’s available,” Phoebe said.

Molly peered at her friend more closely, her stomach flipping in a half circle. What was with Phoebe’s wily grin? “For who?” she asked, hoping her suspicions weren’t true.

“For you, of course,” Phoebe said, shrugging.

Molly’s tummy flipped all the way around. “For me?” She waved a finger in the air. “I’m not interested in him.” Which was true. Except as a match for Phoebe. Or anyone who wasn’t Molly. Rule number one of matchmaking: don’t let yourself get caught up in your prospects. Even if they were drop-dead gorgeous and charming to boot.

Phoebe snorted. “Oh, right. I saw you getting all flustered when he bent down to hook the leash. I watched you stare at him when he walked away.” Phoebe drilled Molly with her all-seeing, sky blue gaze. “You were interested, all right.”

Trust Phoebe to catch the details. She was one of the most observant people Molly knew.

Molly put the sweater in its place and headed to the register, telling herself she shouldn’t be surprised by Phoebe’s statement. It was no secret she thought Molly should be dating, even though Phoebe wasn’t dating, either. She’d lost her fiancé, Justin, God bless his soul, in a firefighting accident one and a half years ago, and hadn’t dated since.

Time to set the record straight. “I was interested in him because my matchmaker radar went off when I met him.”

Phoebe frowned, pausing, then moved closer. “Because…you wanted to fix him up with me?”

“Yup.” No use hiding the truth. “That’s what I do, Phoebs.”

“You know I’m not looking for a romance,” Phoebe said.

“Maybe this time it would be different.”

“I doubt it. You of all people should know that.”

Molly straightened some paperwork on the counter. She actually agreed with Phoebe about romance and its pitfalls. Molly was a romantic idealist at heart, and had always dreamed of falling in love, having a family and living a faith-based life. But since Jeff had dumped her three years ago—after Carl had dumped her a year before that—she’d given up on romance. Safer that way.

“Things change,” Molly said softly. “Maybe it’s time.”

Phoebe paused and drew in a heavy breath, pain shadowing her eyes. “My situation’s different than yours,” she said.

Molly reached out and squeezed her arm. “Yes, it is, no doubt about it. What you went through when you lost Justin was awful, and much worse than what I went through. But do you really want to be alone forever?”

“Do you?” Phoebe asked pointedly.

Molly flushed. Trust Phoebe to turn this dating thing around by deflecting the tough questions back to Molly. But she’d asked an excellent question, one that heralded an impasse.

But not a surrender.

So she said, “I’m not sure.” Best to at least appear to leave her own possibilities open. No sense in reinforcing Phoebe’s love phobia with talk of her own. That would be counterproductive.

Phoebe rolled her blue eyes. “You can say whatever you want, but you’re the one who’ll be seeing him again, not me,” Phoebe said.

A little frisson of excitement squiggled through Molly at the thought of seeing Grant again, taking her a bit off guard.

She’d need to watch those reactions. Carefully. Rule number one couldn’t be ignored. Ever.

She leveled an amazingly droll gaze on Phoebe. “I will see him again, because Rose asked me to look in on him once in a while. But that’s all, trust me.” Molly would make sure of it.

“Really?” Phoebe asked, pulling her wild blond hair back with the elastic band she kept around her wrist. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I saw a spark.”

Molly silently admitted Phoebe was right. Molly did find Grant attractive, and she’d been sparking all over the place. And boy, did she need to put a lid on the fire. She wasn’t looking for a romance, especially with a man who seemed to be a workaholic like her dad. She would just admire Grant from afar, while keeping her promise to Rose.

Molly found her purse and pulled out her wallet to pay Phoebe for lunch. “Really,” she replied, doing a good job of sounding detached. Now she just needed to follow through and act the part so she could do her matchmaker thing and find a way to get Phoebe and Grant out on a date.

Phoebe shot her a look coated in doubt—despite her grief over losing Justin, she remained a pure romantic at heart when it came to other people—so Molly changed the subject to the reason Phoebe was here—lunch.

“So, what are we having for lunch today?” Molly needed to stay at the store, since her one employee, Gena, had the day off. She and Phoebe were going to share some kind of takeout in the back room.

“I’m craving deli. How does a ham sandwich from Elly’s sound?”

“Perfect,” Molly said, glad Phoebe had dropped the subject of Grant.

Molly needed to do the same. Pronto.

No matter what, she had to ignore Grant’s gorgeous blue eyes, beautiful smile and charming ways. She believed in finding everlasting, real love.

For everyone…but herself.


Chapter Two

After Grant left Bow Wow Boutique, Jade obediently trotting beside him thanks to the treats in his pocket, he went home and dug into his work. Somehow he managed to focus on computer code rather than on the appealing Molly Kent.

Sure, he’d noticed how pretty her gold-flecked green eyes were when he’d bent close to put on Jade’s leash. And how smooth and creamy her skin was, with a light dusting of freckles across her pert nose. She was friendly, too, and had a good sense of humor to round out the package quite nicely. But the fact remained, he was here to meet his deadline, not resurrect his social life, which was nonexistent for a reason.

Work and romance just didn’t mix, as his ex-girlfriend Jenna had proved to him when she’d broken up with him in grad school. How ironic was it that she’d dumped him for almost flunking out because he’d paid too much attention to her?

No doubt about it. Being successful and having a romantic relationship were mutually exclusive. Not something he was going to forget anytime soon. And he sure wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Not even with someone as attractive as Molly.

Turning his thoughts away from the past and how it affected the present, he noted that, thankfully, Jade seemed pooped by her visit with Molly’s dogs. She’d plopped down on her bed in the corner when they’d come home, and had pretty much left him in peace to work for the better part of the afternoon. So he lost himself in his complicated task, only occasionally distracted by visions of Molly’s pretty eyes dancing through his brain.

Sometime later, the burn in his shoulders forced his attention away from work. He rose and massaged the kinks that were trying to take up permanent residence in his upper back. While he rolled his shoulders and stretched, he looked out the big picture window running the length of the front of the house.

The green-gray Pacific Ocean spread out in all its beauty for as far as he could see. White-capped waves rolled in to the shore, and seagulls dipped and soared here and there. The clouds had broken up a bit, and the sun was actually peeking through, sending golden beams of light into the roiling ocean. Wow. What a view.

Man, his mom would have been all over this.

A shaft of grief pierced him, literally taking his breath away. He pressed a hand to his heart, trying to breathe.

His mom had adored the beach, and they’d often spent time here with Aunt Rose while he’d been growing up. But Mom was gone now, and he’d never share another walk on the beach with her again. Or another breathtaking scene like the one before him.

His eyes burned.

With practiced determination, Grant shoved his grief down into its cage where he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Instead, he reiterated in his mind how important his job was to him, focusing on his career goals rather than his grief.

He’d come a long way from being the brainy geek with the pen protector in his pocket who everyone had laughed at in high school. Only at church had he been accepted. He’d found solace, community and appreciation there, and he’d truly found a connection to the Lord.

But then God betrayed him by taking Mom. And suddenly, Grant’s faith had been shattered.

Now, he was so close to finally cementing in stone the lasting career respect he needed. Work was the only thing that mattered. He sat down and got back to his computer code.

Sometime later, a knock sounded on the front door, jerking Grant from his work-induced haze. Jade sounded the bark alarm.

Grant looked up, his eyes burning, just in time to see her sprint to the door.

He rose from the makeshift computer station he’d set up at the antique roll-top desk in Aunt Rose’s living room and glanced at his watch. Six-thirty. Wow. Where had the afternoon gone?

Stretching the kinks from his back and shoulders again—maybe a few aspirin would do him some good—he headed to the front of the house.

Jade was waiting by the front door, her tail wagging, obviously eager to greet their visitor, whom, if he guessed right, had long curly red hair and stunning green eyes.

Molly.

His heart rate kicked up a notch, but he ignored the sensation. She was just here to deliver tennis balls for Jade, right? Nothing to get all excited about.

He opened the door, holding Jade’s collar—he learned fast—and saw Molly standing on the other side of the door, her face wreathed in a pretty smile that did funny things to his insides.

“Hi!” she said, her voice bright and sunny, which was all the sunshine he’d get today, given the cloudy skies. She held up a blue bag in her left hand. “I stopped at the Sports Shack and brought Jade some fresh tennis balls.”

He couldn’t help but smile back; her good mood was infectious after a long day of dry programming. “I figured it was you,” he replied, pulling a squirming Jade back, putting his shoulders into the task. Boy, the dog was strong, and obviously wanted to get to Molly.

“Remember the treats?” Molly asked, nodding to Jade, who was about to pull his arm out of its socket. “Better use them now.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Grant felt his back pocket with his free hand, then pulled the treats out.

“Tell her to sit, and stay,” Molly instructed. “Use a firm but kind voice.”

“Sit,” he said firmly. “Stay.”

Jade instantly sat, her coal black eyes beaming up at him.

“Now, give her a treat and praise her,” Molly said.

He dug a treat out of the bag and hastily gave Jade one. “Good dog.”

She gobbled it up and kept her gaze homed in on him.

Grant turned to look at Molly, shaking his head. “Amazing. It works every time.”

She shrugged. “What can I say? Most dogs will do anything for food.”

He tucked the treats back into his pocket. “Gotta remember that.”

She held up a bag of groceries in her other hand. “Speaking of food, I brought stuff to make spaghetti.”

He blinked. “I really shouldn’t take any time away from work,” he automatically said. Though, actually, a break sounded great.

Molly peered around him, her gaze landing on his already well-used work area. “Looks like you’ve been at it for a while.”

“Yeah.” He swiped a hand over his face. “Pretty much all day.”

“Maybe you could use a breather.”

His thoughts exactly. He hated to admit it, but she was probably right.

“Everyone needs to eat, don’t they?” she asked when he didn’t respond. “Doesn’t spaghetti sound good?”

His stomach growled. “I don’t want to impose.” Although, a home-cooked meal was sounding better and better. He’d eaten a quick breakfast of toast and eggs early this morning, but hadn’t eaten anything since. Not surprising he was starving.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be imposing,” she said. “I’d be cooking for myself, anyway, so it’s no trouble.”

“You’re very persuasive.” He’d have to watch out.

“I’ve been told I’m quite stubborn,” she said, lifting her chin.

“I can tell.” Actually, he kind of liked that about her. And, really, it would be rude to refuse her offer. He knew she was just trying to help, as his aunt had wanted.

Making a snap decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret, he stepped back and gestured Molly in. “You’ve talked me into dinner, on one condition.”

She looked expectantly at him, her green eyes questioning. “Which is?”

“I don’t want you to be waiting on me. So I’ll help you get dinner together, okay?”

She paused, shaking her head, her curls swaying with the motion. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary.”

“I insist. You’ve had a long day, too, and I’m sure you’re tired. If we work together, we can turn out a meal in no time.” And he could get back to work faster, refueled and ready to tackle his code with fresh focus. Actually, if he ate a hearty meal, he’d probably get more work done. Another reason to agree to her deal.

“O…okay,” she said, sounding strangely reluctant to agree. “I still have to drop the lures by Floyd’s house, so I guess it would be nice to finish up here early.”

“Exactly,” Grant replied, nodding.

“Great. So, let’s get started.” She moved around him and headed toward the homey kitchen, her soft, breezy scent hitting him when she walked by.

Boy, she smelled good. Kind of like flowers in a meadow, all sweet and warm and fresh. Suddenly, hanging out in the kitchen with her did sound great.

Uneasiness snaked through him. Maybe too great for a man who didn’t want to get caught up in any woman ever again.



Molly unloaded the food for dinner onto Rose’s tile kitchen counters, her hands so clumsy she almost dropped the loaf of French bread she’d brought.

She very deliberately set the bread on the counter, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She needed to simmer down and focus on finding out more about Grant so she could figure out who to set him up with.

Simple.

The thing was, cooking for Grant was a lot different than cooking with Grant.

That thought was reinforced when Grant entered the room, Jade at his heels adoringly, and he brought his charming self right into Molly’s space. Yes, indeed. Rose’s kitchen was small, Grant was big, and somehow preparing a meal together held the promise of a closeness that rattled her to no end. She wasn’t here to act on any attraction she might feel. She was here to learn more about him to find his perfect match.

She gripped the edge of the counter, watching Jade plop herself down in the corner and lay her head on her paws, her black eyes watching everything.

“What do you want me to do?” Grant asked, looking around the kitchen. He moved closer, then reached over and picked up a fat onion she’d unloaded. “You want me to demolish this baby?”

Trying to keep her wits about her, Molly zeroed in on the knife block to her right. She grabbed a big blade suitable for chopping. “Here you go,” she said, handing it to him, careful not to touch his hand. She spied the cutting board next to the sink and picked it up. “You’ll need this, too.”

He put the knife down and took the board from her. “Okay. I’ve got tools. I’m sure I can figure out how to slice and dice.”

She peered at him. “Have you ever chopped an onion?”

He shook his head as he retrieved the knife and held it up in the air. “No, I sure haven’t.”

“Um…you want me to show you how?” Chopping lessons seemed harmless enough.

He grabbed the onion and eyed it. “Nah, how hard can it be?”

Relief and disappointment hit her at once, creating a strange kind of off-balance feeling inside of her she didn’t really like. She gestured to the cutting board. “Have at it, then. I only need half.”

He threw the onion in the air and deftly caught it with one hand, grinning. “Half a chopped onion for Chef Molly, coming right up.”

My, he was cute. Put him in front of a grill with tongs in his hand and she was his.

Disconcerted all over again, Molly spun around and opened the refrigerator to hunt for salad makings.

Bent over, she rustled around in the fridge, then jerked one of the lower drawers out, pawing her way through the produce Rose had obviously bought for Grant.

“So,” she said, focusing on her goal of learning as much as possible about Grant. “Do you read much?” She shoved a bag of baby carrots aside, searching for lettuce.

“Do I do what much?” Grant replied after a long moment.

“Read.”

“Deed?”

“No, read, as in books,” she yelled. Suddenly, a mental picture of herself developed in her brain, and the picture showed her hunched over, yelling into the refrigerator.

“Deed the rooks?”

Oh, brother. She grabbed the elusive lettuce at the bottom of the bin and straightened, chastising herself for being flustered. Grant was just a man, no more, no less. The fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous shouldn’t matter.

She whirled around, shoving her hair out of her face. Time to be reliable and fulfill her promise to Rose by doing her matchmaker thing. Without acting like a twelve-year-old hanging out with her first crush.

She looked at Grant. He had his eyebrows drawn together and the knife suspended in midair. Obviously, he was puzzled by her behavior. Who could blame him?

He probably thought she was a bona fide nut job.

She smiled awkwardly, trying to look as if she hadn’t just attempted to have a conversation with him while shouting into a kitchen appliance. “No. Read books.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding slowly. He went back to chopping, although he wielded the blade more like a machete than a knife. “Not really. I don’t have time.”

Right. Because he was always working. “Really? I’m a big reader.” Although, since she wasn’t looking for a match for herself, that discrepancy in their reading habits didn’t matter. “Did you read as a kid?” she asked, heading across the kitchen to get a salad bowl from the cupboard.

“Yeah, I guess.” More machete-ing. “Mostly science books.”

That made sense. He was a brain, even though he didn’t look like one.

“Oh, and comic books,” he added. “I loved superheroes.”

“Really? I read a lot of comic books as a kid, too. Who’s your favorite?”

He stopped chopping and stared at her. “Spider Man, of course.”

“Me, too,” she replied, amazed that they had the same favorite. “No contest. My dogs’ names are Peter and Parker, and I own the movie. How about you?”

“I only had time to see it once, but I loved it.”

Of course. No time for movies in this guy’s life. “You still have your comic books?”

He stilled, then quickly looked down. “My mom saved them, so they’re up in my parents’ attic somewhere.”

Sympathy shot through her. Oh, yes. Rose had told her he’d recently lost his mom. “Have you ever thought about finding them?” she asked softly. “It might be fun to reread them sometime.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Wasn’t it important for her to know lots about him? You know, to properly set him up.

Picking up the knife, he began to studiously chop the onion again, pausing before he quietly answered, “A lot of my mom’s stuff is up there.”

A knot built in her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Your aunt Rose told me about your mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said, not looking up, his voice raw and husky. “It’s been rough.”

Her eyes burned. “My mom died when I was a little girl, so I know how hard it is to lose a mom.” She’d been inconsolable for months after her mom had been killed in a car accident.

Grant looked up, his eyes full of empathy. “Oh, wow. How old were you?”

“Eight.”

He shook his head. “That must have been really, really hard.”

“It was.” Harder still had been essentially losing her father, who had been so filled with grief over his wife’s death, he’d forgotten all about Molly.

Until now. He’d been calling a lot recently, wanting back into her life. But the walls she’d put up wouldn’t be so easily torn down. Even with God’s help, and lots of prayers, she’d struggled with this issue for quite a while.

Suddenly, onion smell overwhelmed her, and her eyes started tearing. Drawing back, she actually looked at the pile of onions on the cutting board in front of Grant.

She did a double take. Instead of pieces of onion, the cutting board was full of onion mush, speckled with brown bits.

Her jaw went slack. “You didn’t peel the onion before you chopped?” she asked, her throat burning.

He looked up, tears running down his sculpted cheeks. “No. Was I supposed to?” he asked, sniffing.

She backed away from the stinging onion aroma and nodded toward the mashed onions. “Uh…yeah. I thought you knew to take the dry, papery outer layer off.”

He set the knife down and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand before turning his watery gaze to his handiwork. “How would I know? I told you I’ve never chopped onions before.”

“Good point.” She gazed at the pile of goo that used to be an onion. “Um…you may have overchopped a bit, too.”

He considered the slush pile on the cutting board, his brow line hoisted high. “You think?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Definitely. They’re supposed to be pieces, not…mush with skin.”

He reached for the other half of the onion, his mouth curved into a wry smile. “You want me to try again? I’m game if you are, although we might end up onion-less.” His eyes lit up. “Better yet, I’ll do an internet search on how to chop onions.”

She shook her head. “No, no need to bring your computer into this. I’ll do the chopping. Spaghetti sauce just wouldn’t be right without onions.” She glanced around and saw the antique table in the dining room off the kitchen. “Why don’t you work on setting the table.”

He set the onion down. “Now, that I can do.” He picked up the knife and presented it to her with a flourish. “Your knife, Miss. Use it well.”

She played along and accepted his “gift” with an exaggerated curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Turning her attention to the onion, she chopped it on the cutting board next to the sink. She surreptitiously watched Grant rattle around the kitchen, gathering up the utensils and plates they’d need.

She couldn’t help but notice how he moved with an easy male grace she found fascinating. Yes, he’d told her he spent a lot of time at his computer. But it was clear he spent some time working out, too. He was in terrific shape…um, for a computer nerd.

Suddenly, the knife bit into her finger with a sharp sting. “Ow!” She dropped the blade and jerked her hand away, looking down at the bleeding gash on her finger.

Dizziness engulfed her; the sight of blood had always made her woozy.

Grant was at her side in a flash. “What’s wrong?”

At least she’d had the presence of mind to thrust her hand out over the sink and underneath cold water rather than bleed all over Rose’s kitchen. “I…cut my finger.” Because I was staring at you.

“Let me see,” he said, gently taking her hand.

She leaned his way for support, but squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth gritted. “I can’t look.”

“You’ve cut yourself pretty good,” he said after a few moments, his voice laced with concern. A pause. “Keep your hand over the sink, okay? It’s bleeding a lot.”

She did as she was told, biting her lip against the fiery pain. Something dry engulfed her throbbing finger.

“I’m stopping the bleeding with a clean towel,” he said.

“Okay,” she said shakily. The ground tilted and her legs sagged.

He put one arm around her and guided her to the nearest kitchen chair. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

She nodded as she sat. “Thanks. The sight of blood always gets to me.”

He hunkered down next to her, still holding her towel-wrapped hand. “How’s that?”

“Better,” she replied, relaxing back in the chair. “My dizziness is passing.”

“Good.” Looking at her swaddled hand as he rose, he said, “Let’s leave that on while I find the first-aid kit.”

“Okay,” she replied, taking a hold of the towel. “Check the linen closet in the hall. Rose keeps a lot of toiletries and stuff like that there.”

“Will do,” he said, leaving the kitchen.

While he was gone, Molly clenched her teeth at the pain in her index finger. Would she need stitches? She hoped not.

But she would need to quit staring at Grant.

A few moments later he returned, a bright orange first-aid bag in his hands. “Found it.”

The concern in his eyes gave her tummy a little flip.

He sat down in the chair opposite her and reached out to take her injured hand. “Let’s see what we have.” Gingerly, he unwrapped the blood-stained towel from her hand.

Molly kept her gaze averted, flinching at the pain zinging through her finger.

She felt him lean in. “It looks pretty superficial,” he said. “I’ll just put some antibiotic ointment on it, bandage you up, and you’ll be as good as new.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She peeked at her finger and her stomach heaved. She quickly turned away. “You sure it isn’t worse? It feels like I gouged it pretty good.”

He moved his chair, and himself, closer, then bent over her finger again, his gaze locked on her injury. “I’m positive. I know it hurts, but it isn’t too bad.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Roderick,” she said in a teasing tone, trying to distract herself from the pain.

He chuckled, glancing at her, his mouth curved up at the corners. “I’m no doctor, but I did have first-aid training in college. Will that do?”

“That’ll work,” she replied, doing her best to ignore his attractive smile.

“Good.” He grabbed the ointment and gently dabbed it on her cut. Then he picked up a roll of gauze, unwound a length of the bandage material and cut it with the scissors he’d found in the kit.

As he worked to take care of her, Molly looked down at his bent head, noting his long eyelashes and sculpted cheekbones. Yes, he was one handsome guy. And caring and gentle, too.

Pulling her interested gaze away, she let him finish tending to her cut, doggedly refocusing her attention on her goal at hand—to figure him out so she could match him up with one of the many single and wonderful women in town. Maybe Phoebe…

After her finger was bandaged up tight, Molly was grateful Grant helped her finish making dinner. Clearly, he didn’t have that much experience in the kitchen, but he took direction well and did a good job for a rookie.

Soon they were seated at Rose’s antique dining room table, heaping plates of spaghetti before them.

“This looks—and smells—fantastic,” Grant said, inhaling deeply. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.” Not surprising, given how hard he was working. One more reason she needed to find him his perfect match.

“Well, then, you were smart to let me stay.” Molly took a piece of garlic bread from the cloth-covered bread basket with her good hand, then passed Grant the salad. “Eat up, there’s plenty. And we made enough so you’ll have leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes—she had to admit, she made a mean spaghetti sauce—and then the lack of conversation got to her, thanks to one too many silent, awkward meals with her dad.

Setting her fork on the edge of her plate, she regarded Grant. “So. What kind of project are you doing?”

He took a drink of water and put his glass down. “I’m writing computer code for a new client.”

“So this…code job, it’s very important?”

“Yes, very important. If I pull this project off in the ridiculously short amount of time I’ve been given, my company will secure the account for the future, and I’ll get a huge promotion and a lot of respect within the software community.”

Interesting. “Don’t you get lonely working in such isolation?”

“Actually, no,” Grant said, taking another piece of garlic bread from the basket. “I work on my time, when I want, with no distractions, no meaningless socializing.”

She scrunched up her nose. Did Grant at least allow the Lord into his tiny box of a life? She’d be lost without His guidance.

“Being with people is not meaningless,” Molly said emphatically. “I adore interacting with my customers, love helping them pick out products, forming attachments, making friends from all over the world. I’ve had customers from as far away as Hong Kong who still email me to chat.” Granted, that was just email. But still, she was connected. Involved.

He blinked several times, as if her statement was so foreign to him he couldn’t possibly understand where she was coming from. “Personally, I find a social life and business don’t mix,” he replied after a long moment.

He was making the same foolish choice as her father, the big-time corporate attorney.

“Sounds lonely,” Molly said, shaking her head. Lonely and isolated. And faithless.

“Maybe so,” Grant replied, pulling Molly back into the conversation. “But some people like my kind of lifestyle.”

Probably not his family. “Your bosses, for instance.”

He laughed. “Definitely at the top of the list. But focusing on my job works for me because my career is my number-one priority. I don’t have time for a social life, which is fine by me.”

None of this made any sense to Molly. How could he live that way, always solitary, his only companion a computer? “So, your aunt Rose told me you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Nope.”

“I guess you don’t have time, right?”

His expression closed. “Right. I gave up dating a long time ago.”

She almost blurted, “Me, too,” but she held back the words just in time. She was trying to find the perfect woman for him, not reaffirm his reasons to stay isolated with her own sob stories.

With her promise to Rose in mind, she said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go to church with me on Christmas Eve, the week after next? I’m sure you’d love the service.”

Grant froze, his fork midway to his mouth. Then he very deliberately set the utensil down. “Church isn’t really my thing,” he said evenly. Too evenly. As if he was trying to suppress something painful and had gone all blank instead.

She blinked. “Oh. Okay. No big deal.” Not a believer, then? Again, another clue to his personality. She was slowly finding out about the real man beneath the attractive exterior. Good. Yet…not.

Not surprisingly, Grant changed the subject. “So, how long have you lived in Moonlight Cove?”

“Three years. I moved here when I graduated from the University of Oregon.”

“How did you end up in this neck of the woods?”

“My family and I used to vacation here when I was little.” In fact, Moonlight Cove was the last place her family had spent any happy time before her mother died.

“Lots of good memories, I bet,” he said.

Actually, her only good memories of her childhood centered around Moonlight Cove. “Tons,” she said, bending the truth. A lot. She was ashamed to admit how limited her happy childhood memories actually were. As in almost nonexistent.

“I have good memories here, too,” he said. “I came here every summer to visit Aunt Rose when I was growing up.”

“That must have been fun.”

Again, his expression shuttered. “It was.”

He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, so she decided not to push him on the subject and instead focused on eating. Grant seemed content to simply chow down.

A few minutes later, he set his utensils neatly on his plate and said, “Dinner was fantastic. I could get used to this kind of delicious cooking in a hurry.”

A warm glow of pride settled in Molly’s chest. It was always nice to please someone who could express himself with words, not barks. “Thanks.” And then she thought, Note to self: fix him up with someone who likes to cook.

They rose and began to clean up, and when Grant went to take the garbage out, she ran through all the information about him she’d collected today. He liked superheroes. He was reluctant to date. He appreciated home cooking. And he was a runner.

Who should she set him up with?

Of course, she’d already set her matchmaking sights on Phoebe; she might be the perfect match. If that didn’t fly, there was also Anna Stevens, who owned Moonlight Cove Bakery on Main Street. She was single, and was the best baker in town, hands down.

Then a rogue thought crashed through Molly’s mind.

On paper, another person also had a lot in common with him.

And that person was…her.

She looked heavenward.

Hello? God? Looks like I have another problem I’m going to need Your help with.


Chapter Three

The next day, Grant glowered at the naughty dog sitting in front of his desk. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Jade had spent the morning alternating between barking at the squirrels in the backyard from the window, dropping her gross tennis ball in his lap and asking to go out every ten minutes, which not only distracted him, but required that he wipe her muddy paws off every time she came in.

She lifted her furry face. There it was, that dog smile she kept giving him. It was as if she could actually understand him.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. Yeah, right, Roderick. Maybe his killer work schedule had fried his brain. She was just a dog, albeit a very, very smart one.

He had to get some peace and quiet, or he’d never make his deadline.

Before he could figure out how to accomplish the seemingly impossible goal, his cell phone rang.

Grant pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at the display. Dad. He and his dad were close, and Grant always looked forward to their three-times-a-week conversations.

Grant pushed the answer button. “Hey, Dad,” he said. “How are you?”

A pause. “I’m fine. And you?”

Grant’s stomach clenched. Dad wasn’t fine at all, and hadn’t been since Grant’s mother had died after a long, agonizing battle with breast cancer a year ago. Neither he nor his dad had really come to terms with losing Naomi Roderick.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Grant asked, wishing he lived closer to his dad in Portland. He might have cut romantic relationships from his life in favor of work, but he was still really close to Dad.

“Ah, well, I’m just…a little lonely, that’s all.”

The softly spoken words shredded Grant’s heart. His dad wasn’t recovering well from his wife’s death, and Grant wondered if he ever would. The once vibrant man had shriveled inside, and it seemed only a shell was left.

“You said you were going to look into volunteering somewhere,” Grant said, trying to sound as upbeat as he could. “How’s that going?”

“Oh, nothing really appeals to me,” his dad said, his voice subdued. Hollow. “I’d rather stay home.”

Grant sighed. “Have you gone to church lately?” At one time, his dad had found solace in the church.

“Nah, not yet.” A long silence. “It just wouldn’t be the same without your mother.”

Grant’s eyes burned. His dad was right. How could Grant ask him to look to God for comfort when Grant himself couldn’t do it? “I know, Dad.” Nothing had been the same since his mom had died. She’d been the heart of the Roderick family.

A wave of fresh grief washed over Grant. He slammed it down.

“Maybe I’ll go next week,” his dad mumbled.

“That sounds like a plan.”

Grant decided to drop the subject and avoid the pain for both himself and his dad for now. Anything more was beyond him. “Listen, as soon as I’m done with this project, I’ll come down for the weekend. Maybe we can go fishing.”

“Okay, that’d be great,” his dad said, but Grant could tell his heart wasn’t in his words.

They talked about a few other mundane subjects, then said goodbye and hung up. Grant sat for a few moments, concern for his dad oozing through him. They shared their grief, but Grant didn’t know how to deal with his own, much less his dad’s. He was at a total loss as to how to help. And with Christmas coming up, things would only get worse.

His mom had loved Christmas. Which was why he hadn’t accepted Molly’s invitation to go to church. He just couldn’t face a Christmas Eve service without his mom.

Jade barked at the window—the squirrels in the yard driving her bonkers again—jerking Grant’s thoughts back to the problem at hand. Aside from putting a muzzle on the dog, how was he going to get the uninterrupted quiet he needed?

He glanced outside, noting that it was cloudy and windy, but not raining. Maybe Jade needed a long walk to take the edge off her canine crazies. They could stop by Molly’s store and buy a new toy or two to distract Jade for the rest of the day. Sounded like a plan.

He hoped for Jade’s sake his strategy worked.

If it didn’t, it might mean a reservation at the local kennel. For the dog, of course.



Saying a fervent prayer under her breath, Molly let out a long-suffering sigh, her hands stiff on the computer keyboard. Why in the world hadn’t she taken more computer classes in college?

She’d spent the last two hours holed up in the back room of the store, trying to retrieve some tax files from her hard drive for the IRS audit scheduled for the day after tomorrow.

Two tear-her-hair-out hours with nothing to show but a fizzled brain, a throbbing headache and a sudden, burning desire to heave her computer through the window. Not to mention typing was tricky—and slow—with a bandaged finger.

She looked through the list of virtual folders again, including the one named TAX FILES. Nothing. The files were gone.

She shot to her feet and began to pace, rubbing her temple. What in the world was she going to do? The audit was in less than two days’ time. She was a total computer idiot. She’d looked in every nook and cranny of her computer to no avail. And, unfortunately, she hadn’t backed up her data.

This problem could spell disaster for her business.

Worse, a town the size of Moonlight Cove wasn’t exactly a hotbed of computer repair options. Far from it. There was one guy who was good, and it was common knowledge he was scheduled weeks out. No help there.

She chewed on her lip. Maybe she could ask Computer Man Grant to help…no, no, he was busy with his own work and wouldn’t be able to spare the time. Drat.

Just when she was about to spontaneously combust from anxiety she heard the buzzer on the front door go off, signaling the arrival of a customer. Glad for the distraction, she headed out front to relieve Gena. She closed the door to the back room, leaving Peter and Parker napping there.

Molly’s eyebrows shot up—and so did her heart rate—when she saw the unexpected pair who’d just walked in.

She turned to Gena. “I’ll handle this one. Why don’t you go take a break.”

Gena shrugged, grabbed her purse and went out the front door, her brunette ponytail swinging.

Molly headed to where Grant stood by the front counter. He was trying, in vain, to contain a wild Jade, who was acting pretty rambunctious, jumping up and down, woofing.

“Jade, sit!” Molly commanded, her dog training instincts kicking in.

Jade sat.

Molly grabbed a treat from her jeans pocket. “Good girl,” she said, giving Jade the treat. She cocked an eyebrow, then looked at Grant. “Is it my imagination, or is she particularly wild today?”

Grant rubbed his jaw, shaking his head. “Wild isn’t even the word. It hasn’t been a good morning.”

“I’m with you there,” Molly replied. “It’s been a rough morning here, as well.” Normally she was a good business problem solver, but today…well, not so much. She was a people person, not a computer whiz.

Grant studied her, his eyes alight with concern. “What’s wrong?” His gaze dropped to her bandaged finger. “Is your cut bothering you?”

His worry about her injury touched her. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”

“Oh, good.” He drew his eyebrows together. “Then what’s up?”

“The thing is…I’m having a major computer problem,” she said sheepishly.

His ears perked up at the word computer. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I’m being audited the day after tomorrow, and I can’t find the files I need for the IRS agent on my computer.” As she talked, she bent down and unhooked Jade from her leash. “They’re just…gone.”

He instantly went into techie mode. “Where are your backup files?”

“Um…I didn’t exactly back up my stuff.”

Classic rookie mistake. “Why not?”

“I forgot?”

Sighing, he said, “Bet you’ll back up from now on, won’t you?”

She made an X with her fingers over her heart. “I promise.”

He looked at his watch. Where had the day gone? “You want me to take a look?” He didn’t really have time, but the thought of leaving her floundering with the IRS breathing down her neck didn’t sit well with him.

“Oh, no, I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

“I can spare some time,” he said. Not exactly true, but close enough.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her green eyes starting to glow with hope. “I hate to impose.…”

“I’m sure,” he said. “I can probably track down the files in a half hour or so.”

“You think?” She touched his arm. “Oh, that would be great. And I tell you what. Since you’re doing me a favor, why don’t I take Jade off your hands for the next few days? She can hang out here with me, Peter and Parker during the day.”

Relief shot through him, taking his mind off the warm spot on his arm where she’d touched him. Dog problem solved. “That’d be great.” Definitely worth an hour, tops, of his time.

“You have time to take a look now?” she asked.

He gestured to the back room where he’d seen her desktop computer yesterday. “Lead the way.”

Just as he started to follow her back there, the door buzzer went off again. He and Molly turned in unison, and Jade let out a happy woof and ran to greet their visitor.

Phoebe walked into the store. She bent down and gave Jade a good ear scratching, then straightened and headed their way, waving colored papers in her hand.

“Hey, Phoebs,” Molly called. “I bet you’ve got flyers, don’t you?”

“I sure do, all made up for our Christmas specials,” she said, handing him and Molly each a bright red piece of paper. An impish grin took over Phoebe’s mouth. “In honor of the holiday, our flavor of the month is Candy Cane, and it’s really good. Buy one scoop, get one free through the end of the year.” Phoebe gave Molly a wide-eyed, unblinking look. “Maybe you two could stop in together sometime soon.”

Molly pursed her lips and glared at Phoebe. “Or maybe Grant could stop by and you two could have ice cream together.”

“I’d be working,” Phoebe said matter-of-factly. “No time for socializing.”

“Oh, and I have unlimited amounts of time for hanging out and eating ice cream?” Molly retorted, flipping her hair, her green eyes flashing like emeralds.

Grant hesitated, puckering his forehead, his gaze swinging back and forth between Phoebe and Molly. What was going on?

Then they both spoke at once, their words mixing up until he couldn’t understand either of them.

“Whoa, whoa, ladies,” he said after a few seconds of verbal mayhem, holding up both hands.

They both abruptly stopped talking and swung their gazes toward him.

“What’s up?” He put his hands on his hips. “I feel as if there’s some weird subtext playing out here that, frankly, I don’t really understand.”

Neither woman spoke. Instead, they just kind of glared at each other, their mouths tight.

Finally, Phoebe huffed, flopped the flyers down on the counter with a whap and said, “I guess I’ll warn you, since Molly will strike before you know what’s coming.”

“Warn me? Strike?” He grimaced. “What in the world are you talking about, since I doubt we’re on the subject of war games here?”

“Molly’s our resident matchmaker, and she’s quite good at it.” As she spoke, Phoebe unbuttoned her coat. “If you’re not careful, she’ll have you and me talking china patterns by the end of the week.”

Cold-edged surprise bounced like a rock through Grant. He turned to Molly, his jaw tight, his brow line raised so high he doubted he had eyebrows. “Is this true?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze and remained suspiciously silent. Just tongue-tied? Or guilty as charged?

He was confident it was the latter.



Despite the store being kept at a very temperate seventy degrees, burning warmth flared in Molly’s cheeks as she tried to look anywhere but at Grant’s accusing stare.

Uneasiness poked her. Maybe her matchmaker idea hadn’t been a good one, after all. Or maybe she should have told him about her plan, even though that wasn’t usually the way she worked.

“Yes. Yes, it is true,” Molly answered honestly. Lying had never been her style. “I’m a matchmaker on the side.”

He looked at Phoebe, seemingly for confirmation.

“She thinks I should be dating,” Phoebe said matter-of-factly, a brow quirked.

His gaze came back to Molly, then narrowed. “When were you going to clue me in?” he asked, his voice edged in steel.

She squirmed. Oh, boy. Why did she feel so…guilty? She’d had only good intentions. But maybe a man who didn’t date wouldn’t see things her way. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

“Soon,” she said in a placating tone. She continued on, feeling the need to explain why she hadn’t told him about her plan. “But I’ve found I can make better matches if the people I’m matching don’t know exactly what I’m doing right away.”

Grant frowned, then looked at the floor, shaking his head.

Molly’s bravado faltered. She liked his smile and direct gaze better than his obvious disconcertion. A lot better.

Phoebe stepped forward and piped in. “Actually, that’s true. She gets what she calls ‘love hunches’ and usually finds ways to get people together pretty much out of nowhere.”

“Love hunches?” Grant’s brow knitted. “Care to explain?”

At least he was interested in her romantic intuition, rather than simply scoffing and writing her talent off as ridiculous right off the bat. “Certainly. Since I moved here, I’ve discovered that I have the ability to…know who would be a good love match for whom.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How do you know this?”

“It’s hard to explain.…”

“Try,” he said levelly.

His serious tone took her aback. She nodded, wanting to salvage what she could of her pride. “My love hunches are just a…feeling I get every so often.”

He paused, seemingly to mull over what she’d said. Finally, he said, “Someone besides me can’t possibly know what I’m feeling at any given time.” He looked away, then swung his gaze back to Molly. “Don’t you tell people when you’re working away behind their backs, figuring all of this out?”

Molly swallowed. “See, the thing is, I can get a better idea of a person’s personality if they’re—”

“Clueless?” Grant said, cocking that brow again.

“Well…yes.” Sounded worse than it was. “Once someone knows I’m trying to figure them out, they clam up and act funny. The other person will only see what I see if both act naturally. Like their true selves.”

He paused again, obviously digesting what she’d said.

Molly glanced at Phoebe, grimacing speculatively as if to ask whether he was going to twirl his finger next to his temple to show how loony he thought she was.

With a lift of her slim shoulders, Phoebe grimaced back as if to say she had no earthly idea what he was going to do.

Molly held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t dismiss her as a kook.

She didn’t want him to think badly of her; she needed his help with her computer problem. Yes. Exactly. Alienating him now would be a mistake.

Finally, he spoke. “Was my aunt in on this?”

“Kind of,” Molly replied. “She asked me to be sure you got out some while you were here. To me, that means fixing you up.” True enough. “And really, most young, unattached guys would jump at the chance to meet nice, eligible women.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/lissa-manley/mistletoe-matchmaker-42478175/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.