Make Me A Match: Baby, Baby / The Matchmaker Wore Skates / Suddenly Sophie. Melinda Curtis

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      “It didn’t match you with Coach, Nora,” Coop said wearily. It hadn’t even matched her to him.

      “That’s a relief,” Nora said with a pained expression. “I hate to tell you this, but your questions read like the ones from a list in a glossy magazine. I don’t think I want to know who I was matched with.”

      Gideon snapped his laptop shut and glared at Ty, who did the back-away shrug and said, “They were your magazines.”

      “Ah, the sweet smell of disaster.” Coach finished prepping his sodas and hefted his tray, leaving the trinity of matchmakers with Nora.

      Nora considered their pathetic mugs far too long before saying anything else. “I told myself I wouldn’t butt in. However... If you want to match people with their soul mates, maybe you need to think longer term than a one-nighter.” At Coop’s blank, shocked look, she added, “You didn’t ask where I saw myself five or ten years from now. You didn’t ask if I enjoyed cooking or gardening or puttering around a garage. Don’t you think it helps if you have common interests?” Her gaze fell away from Coop’s. “Women want fun, but in the end they all fall for a guy who does the dishes.”

      Gideon scribbled notes like mad.

      “What about kids?” Coop blurted.

      Ty stared at him as if he’d eaten a live goldfish.

      “You need to be compatible there, too,” Nora allowed. “Small family, large family, open to adoption. Do you want your kids to go to college? That kind of thing.”

      Gideon leaned forward, as intent as he’d ever been in Mr. Yazzie’s algebra lectures. “What did you see in Coop when you met?”

      Coop held his breath.

      Nora surveyed Coop with a cool gaze that made him feel like an overpriced jacket in the midst of the clearance rack. “I went to the bar that night for fun. My mother had died and my father didn’t show up for the funeral. Coop and I talked hockey and NASCAR. We laughed and danced. And I...” Her gaze drifted to Zoe.

      Had Nora gone to the bar because she wanted a husband? A baby? Anything that would make Nora seem less than perfect? And ease the ever-increasing feeling that he’d made a mistake by leaving her that morning. “Go on.”

      “I wanted to feel special. And he did that.” She met Coop’s gaze squarely. “Until the next morning when he was gone.”

      Crap. She was a great person. Coop was the pathetic loser.

      He’d given her a night that was exactly what she’d wanted, but he couldn’t help but feel he hadn’t come close to giving her what she’d really needed.

      And he was now afraid he didn’t know what that was.

      * * *

      “I COULD SIT HERE all night with this grandbaby,” Brad practically shouted from his recliner. His volume didn’t disturb a sleeping Zoe, even though he held her in his arms.

      Outside, the snow still came down heavily, illuminated by streetlights.

      Nora stood in the kitchen doing the dishes with Coop. “You’re surprisingly domesticated for a bachelor.” And she was entirely too comfortable being domestic with him. It was St. Patrick’s Day all over again. There was just something about Coop that hoodwinked common sense. That urged her to trust. That said, “He’s the one.”

      “When Pop was first injured, I had to make sure he had good nutrition.” Coop washed dishes efficiently. He’d added the right amount of dish soap and had the proper sponge for the job. “Don’t get me wrong. We eat a lot of meat and we only have a handful of vegetables we like.” He handed her a plate. Their eyes met. Their hands touched.

      Her heart beat faster.

      Only because she nearly dropped the plate.

      Wake up, common sense urged.

      Her father was a drunk. He lied to cover his addiction. He lied to earn forgiveness for his insensitivity. He followed every promise of an easy buck, even if he had to spend ten to do so. But... Coop didn’t seem to be a drunk. Sure, she imagined he exaggerated a bit to sell things, like cars and matchmaking services. But he wasn’t an insensitive jerk. People in town cared for him. They watched his back. They wished him well.

      Her trip here had seemed so simple. Show up, give Coop the paternity test, state her demands and make the last bus back to Anchorage.

      But Coop was nothing like the man her broken heart had painted.

      He was...

      She was...

      His gaze still held hers. “The snow may let up tomorrow.” His eyes were full of promises that had nothing to do with babies and child support.

      “And the bus will leave.” She dragged her gaze away. “With us on it.”

      He washed the last plate. “How much time is left on your maternity leave?”

      “I start back to work a week from Monday.” There was too much longing in her voice. It was time to tell him the truth.

      “I only came to find you to arrange for financial support. When my father was sober, which wasn’t often, he felt it necessary to try to be a part of our lives, but he never fulfilled a promise. Not one.” She took the last plate, carefully avoiding his touch. “Even so, every time he showed up, I was hopeful he’d changed. That he’d finally be the father I wanted.” She forced herself to look at him, to make him understand why she couldn’t listen to her heart and stay. “And every time, he broke my heart. I don’t want that for Zoe.”

      Coop’s eyes darkened to a stormy green. “I’m not some deadbeat who doesn’t do what he says he’s going to. Is that why you didn’t tell me about Zoe?”

      “You dumped me.” She squared her shoulders. “Without so much as a text saying it was great but you weren’t into long-distance relationships.” Her throat was thick with hurt and battered hope, making it hard to speak, hard to be heard, hard to admit, “And then you didn’t remember me.”

      “I’m not your father.” Coop held her arms with soapy fingers, turning her to face him. “I’m just a guy who was dazzled by a beautiful woman and woke up scared.”

      “You?” The man with the nothing-fazes-me smile? “Scared?” The sharp edge of hurt she’d been carrying around in her heart for ten months dulled somewhat.

      “We never talked about the future or our pasts.” Coop lifted her chin with one wet finger. His eyes were soft and apologetic. His voice rough with remorse. “I had dreams of being a sports agent, making big bucks and living large. I had dreams of living in Malibu, driving a Porsche and being a man every woman wanted. And then Ty had his accident.” He paused to clear his throat. “Now I’m a used-car salesman and a struggling matchmaker living in a mobile home with his dad. No woman wants that.”

      “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a good-looking guy—” Overlooking the beard, which was growing on her. “With a steady job. Women give you points for that.” Tatiana certainly did.

      “Points? СКАЧАТЬ