Page 101 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

“So, he is a stalker. Plain and simple. Let me be the first person to say I told you so, Sydney Hart.”

Closing her eyes against the verbal semi-assault, Sydney questioned the sanity of the conversation she had just begun with Suzie.

“Please, Suzie…”

Her forehead throbbed and she paused to knead it with her finger and thumb, pinching the dull ache away. A little. She had acquired the headache last night while on the way home with Steve. He’d been silent the entire drive. She simply sat in the passenger’s seat praying he would get her home safely and without incident. The tension had caused her jaw to tighten and her temples to pound—she hadn’t rid herself of that feeling ever since.

He hadn’t argued with her. In fact, even as she exited his car, he did not say a word.

“I don’t think he’ll be hanging around any longer,”

she told the group sitting with her having coffee at a lone table in the empty bakery.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He’s after something,”

Suzie continued.

“I just don’t know what yet.”

Blowing out a breath, Sydney lifted her cup to her lips, took a sip, and grimaced. Lukewarm.

“I can’t imagine what it would be.”

She really didn’t want to think about the fact that he was using the age-old ploy of being interested in her to romance something out of her.

“It’s simple, really.”

Sydney looked up. That last comment came from Matt. Business this morning was super slow and the four of them—Suzie, Sydney, Matt, and his wife Shelley—sat perusing the even slower traffic on downtown Main Street Harbor Falls. “How so?”

Shelley learned in.

“He has it all figured out.”

Sydney watched Suzie cock an eyebrow. “How so?”

she repeated Suzie’s words, glancing from Shelley to Matt.

Shrugging, Shelley turned to her husband.

“Do you want to tell her or shall I?”

Rising, Sydney stepped away from the table, unsure she really wanted to hear the theory of a small-town cop.

“I don’t think it matters who tells me,”

she said.

“It’s all speculation anyway, right?”

She reached for the full coffee carafe and headed back to the table. Once there, she warmed up each off their cups, set the carafe in the center of the table, and settled in again.

Matt’s chair screeched as he scooted back a little.

“Not exactly speculation. I did do a little investigation. I ran his plates.”

“What?”

“Yup.”

Suzie’s fingers drummed on the table. “…and?”

All three of the Hart women leaned in to hear Matt’s remarks.

“The car isn’t his.”

“What? How do you know?”

“It’s a rental.”

The three women simultaneously leaned back in their chairs again. Then Suzie asked.

“Will the rental car place give you info?”

Matt shook his head.

“No. Not unless he has been pulled over and arrested or there is a suspected crime committed, neither of which has happened. All I know is that the car was picked up in Atlanta.”

Suzie exclaimed.

“You should have kept in him jail while you had him but no, someone had to drop charges and let him go.”

“It was the right thing to do, Suzie. He didn’t break any crime.”

Sydney stared at her.

“But Atlanta? That is several hours from Harbor Falls. Why would someone from Atlanta be hanging around here for morning coffee and pastries?”

“Doesn’t mean he’s from Atlanta,”

Shelly intervened.

“Means only that the car was picked up in Atlanta.”

Sighing, Sydney said.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“So, we really don’t know anything else. Right? We have no clue why this man is here or what he wants.”

“Well, I thought he wanted me.”

The cousins both looked at her. Sydney quickly went on.

“He seemed interested in me! Genuinely. Until he said my kisses tasted almost as good as my orange scone. Almost! What woman wants to hear that she tastes almost as good as a pastry? He has some serious work to do in the wooing of a woman department. I’m here to tell you. He is definitely not a pro at this.”

A few seconds of silence ticked by.

“He’s romancing you.”

“Well, of course he is!”

“But he wants something.”

Suzie rose, placed her hands on her hips, darted her gaze about the bakery, and landed it on the pastry case.

“Scones. He always wants scones. Right?”

Thinking back, Sydney had to agree.

“Yes. I think so. Always a scone and black coffee of the day.”

“He works in the industry. I’ll bet my new stand-up mixer on it. He’s either a critic, or he’s writing a cookbook, or he owns a bakery, or he wants your—”

“But why?”

Sydney stood.

Then a commotion just outside the door caught all of their attention.

“What in the world?”

Suzie shouted.

“Crap,”

Shelley added. Her chair screeched as she stood.

“Oh, there she goes again.”

Matt rose and headed for the door.

Sydney followed the trio. Just outside the door, she noted dogs and puppies everywhere. Lyssa Larkin, the town puppy nanny, was tied up in leashes and tripping down the sidewalk after her charges.

Matt raced off to snatch a Labrador.

Shelly went after the Poodle.

Suzie snagged the Beagle.

And Sydney stood watching the chaos, shaking her head at the ensuing scene, and just wanted to throw her hands up and return her life to its regularly schedule mundaneness. Then she spotted him.

Steve Gate sat on the bench opposite her bakery door, rubbing his knees and elbows, and staring after the menagerie. Had he gotten tangled up in the puppy mishap?

Served him right, scraping his elbows and knees.

Hell. She’d had about enough of this mystery man’s stalking. She was going to get to the bottom of this. Now.

****

“What in God’s name are you doing here?”

Stone jerked his gaze away from the jumble of people and puppies to his right to focus on the woman standing, hands on hips, straight in front of him. His heart jumped in his chest upon seeing her, even though she appeared to be mad as hell.

“Hello Sydney.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What have I done here every morning for the past week?”

“I’m not buying any of this. Why are you here? In Harbor Falls, stalking my bakery, and me. What do you want? I want answers now.”

This woman, who had captured his heart, appeared hell-bent on answers this morning.

“I’m intrigued with your unique approach to scones.”

“For what reason?”

“I came to learn your technique.”

“Bull hockey. Try again.”

Her foot tapped now against the concrete sidewalk.

“I came to steal your recipes.”

Her gaze narrowed and she stared for what seemed like a small eternity. He gave back as good as she gave. “Why?”

He was not giving up all his secrets so easily.

“Because I’m enamored of your skills, your pastries, and well, now…you.”

That was pretty much the truth but about as far as he was going to go. If her eyes could narrow even more, they did. She didn’t speak. Suddenly, the menagerie erupted again and was upon them.

“Oh Sydney, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset your morning rush again!”

A woman with long dark hair holding several leashes with dogs attached, pushed up between them.

“I know you’ve asked me before not to come by this way, but I was trying to avoid all of the lines.”

Stone watched Sydney’s eyes widen.

“Morning rush? Ha. What are you talking about Lyssa?”

She nodded.

“You know, the lines. The farmer’s market opened in the parking lot by the library, and then down the street on your side, at that new coffee shop? Well, people are lined up out the door and around the corner and...”

“What?”

This time, Stone watched Sydney’s eyebrows shoot straight up and her eyes grow even rounder.

“New coffee shop?”

A trio of other people joined them, and the sidewalk atmosphere suddenly erupted with animated speech. About coffee. About the shop down the street. They pointed. Flung their arms. The redhead’s voice grew even louder. Dogs barked and tugged on leashes. The impatient menagerie jerked the dark-haired one in the opposite direction. The cop pointed. Sydney threw up her hands and sighed. They all turned toward the supposed new coffee shop down the street, their backs to him.

Sydney took a step away.

That’s when Stone realized he was, at this moment, somewhat invisible to them all, and that it was likely a pretty good time to exit.

****

After a few minutes of extremely animated conversation with her cousins and Matt—a conversation in which Sydney was trying to figure out exactly who knew what and when about this new damn coffee shop—Sydney turned back and spotted the empty bench sitting opposite her bakery door.

“Dammit! He’s gone.”

“Who?”

“Steve Gate.”

“He was here?”

She nodded.

“Yes. Sitting on the bench.”

Matt whipped his head around and peered right and left, up and down the street.

“How long ago, I can tail him.”

“Just right now, Matt!”

Her voice was raising again. She turned toward Lyssa as Matt rushed down the street.

“Did you see him, Lyssa?”

The dogs yipped and tugged. Lyssa struggled to keep them under control.

“A man? Yes. He stepped out of his car about the time I passed the bakery door. The Lab bolted toward him, the guy tripped over the curb, and then the Poodle hurdled him. The rest is history. Is he hurt?”

Was he hurt? He didn’t look hurt. She shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

But something about him possibly being hurt concerned Sydney.

“I need to get going, Sydney,”

Lyssa said.

“These guys are impatient and again, I’m sorry. Bye girls!”

Then she was off, and Sydney stood in front of her bakery facing her cousins, still feeling slightly discombobulated.

“What in the world are we going to do?”

Suzie cleared her throat.

“About Steve Gate or the problem down the street?”

Her stomach dropped into her gut.

“Both. Neither. I don’t know!”

“Well we sure as hell need to do something.”

Suzie glanced down the street again.

“That line is getting longer. Who is this hussy infiltrating our business space?”

The women both followed her gaze.

Shelley added.

“I didn’t even know it was open or was in the planning.”

“Me either.”

And that worried Sydney.

“How could she drum up business so fast and we not know about it?”

“No clue,”

Suzie said.

“But here comes Ralph Myers so let’s ask him.”

The grocer sauntered toward them on the sidewalk and all three women watched as he approached.

“How is that coffee, Ralph?”

Shelley began.

He smiled and stopped.

“Morning, ladies. Oh, it’s very good.”

Suzie rolled her eyes and muttered.

“Probably not better than my cinnamon brew.”

“Or my nut flavored coffees,”

added Sydney.

Ralph tipped his paper cut to his lips.

“Oh, it’s a lot better than either of those, ladies. Sorry about that.”

Shelley piped in with, “How so?”

Ralph winked and raised his cup in the air.

“It’s free! Her coffee is free today.”

He headed down the street.

Sydney stopped him with a hand to his elbow.

“Wait. Totally free? Don’t you mean, like, buy a donut and get the coffee free or something?”

He shook his head.

“Oh no. Totally free. All week.”

Ralph grinned and turned.

“Nice marketing strategy. I may need to try it.”

And then he was gone.

“Crap.”

“I’m going for a cup.”

Shelley started off down the street.

“Anyone else coming?”

“I’ll join you.”

Suzie followed her sister. Over her shoulder, she asked.

“You coming, Syd? Let’s check out the competition.”

But the sinking feeling in her gut told her that checking out the competition was not a good idea—at least for her and at least right now. Too much had happened this morning. She needed a pause.

“No. You two go ahead and I’ll get the report later.”

She rubbed her temples again.

“My head is killing me. I’m going to take some meds and then a nap.”

The two Hart sisters nodded and went on their way. Sydney entered her bakery, locked the door behind her, and turned the sign on the door telling customers the bakery was closed.