Page 107 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

As the three women made their way to the front door of Bittersweets, Jillian realized they were talking a mile-a-minute, as if they were old friends rather than having just met five minutes earlier. Of course, she reminded herself, this was the south, not Manhattan, and friend factors took on different modes here.

So, the chatter died, the two cousins made their way back up Main Street toward Sugar High, and Jillian turned toward her own establishment when she abruptly stopped, remembering she’d left a stack of mail in her car that she’d wanted to go through. Whirling back, she bumped square into someone.

“Oh!”

“Umph.”

She took a half step back. A chest. Man chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

She stumbled a little. The man’s hands reached out to steady her.

“Hey Suze! Syd! Wait!”

“Wha—?”

But she went down. Somewhere during the confusion, her foot slipped off the concrete threshold to her store, her ankle twisted, a sharp pain shot up the inside of her foot, and she folded into the concrete sidewalk into a little heap.

“Oh, hell. I’m so sorry.”

The man said.

“Ow.”

“Are you okay?”

Hands. Man hands. Not too big, not too small. Nice. Helping her up.

“Oh, ouch.”

Damn ankle.

Then another set. Two men?

“Oh, thank you.”

She righted herself. Still holding onto a male forearm, she balanced on one foot and stretched to inspect her right ankle, then flicked her gaze up to the two men before her. One was familiar, and he was looking off behind her down the sidewalk. Suzie Matthews’ husband, Brad? Yes, that was him, owner of the Lodge. Let no one say that she had not done her homework before moving to Harbor Falls.

Her gaze swiveled then to the man standing next to Brad. The one who had a gentle squeeze on her elbow, and who was steadying her as she stood perched on one foot; her right ankle poised in the air while she prodded to see if she could feel pain. The one whose other forearm she still clutched.

How she took all of this in within the few short seconds of her banging into the man, tumbling to the ground, and being snatched back up again, she didn’t know. But she had.

She dropped the grip she had on him.

“Oh, thank you,”

she said again, looking directly into the man’s eyes—which were brown. Darker than a milk chocolate and lighter than semi-sweet. But just as tempting as either.

“I should look where I’m going,”

she added.

Finally, Chocolate Eyes spoke.

“Truthfully, I love a cute meet like this. You know, helping a damsel in distress. Are you okay? What’s your name?”

Now if that wasn’t a line if she’d ever heard one. A bit taken aback, and a little annoyed, she stammered out.

“J— Jillian. You?”

He smiled, and she lowered her right foot to the ground. She needed to do that to anchor herself from what that suddenly sexy smile did to her insides. No longer annoyed, she grinned back, and her heart did a little dance.

She put pressure on the foot. Ouch. That hurt a bit though.

“I’m Scott.”

He pointed to his left.

“You might already know this guy. He’s Brad, my brother.”

Ah, she didn’t do her homework so well after all. Brad Matthews had a brother?

He added.

“Actually I just got into town. Vacation.”

“I see.”

She nodded.

Brad thrust out his hand.

“Glad to finally meet you, Jillian. I’m Brad Matthews, and the woman heading that way is...”

Finally, Jillian felt coherent enough to speak in sentences.

“Yes. Your wife. Suzie Matthews and her cousin Sydney too. They just left here.”

“Oh?”

Brad’s eyebrow rose.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And...?”

She figured she knew for what he was fishing.

“And all is fine.”

Physically, Brad’s stature seemed to lower, and he exhaled. “Good.”

Then glancing back up the street toward his wife, he shouted again.

“Hey, woman!”

Jillian, teetering on her toe, not fully putting weight on her foot now and still being semi-held up by the brother, whose fingertips were rather hot on her elbow she might add, watched Suzie whip back. She let out a little squeal, grabbed her cousin by the arm, and ran back toward the trio.

“Scott!”

She practically leapt into the man’s arms. He let go of her elbow and Jillian, well, taken off guard a bit, stumbled backward again, and into the doorway of Bittersweets.

“Well, hell!”

Brad shouted.

Sydney lunged to grab her before she went all the way down.

Suzie froze in mid-hug with Scott, who sported a wide-eyed startle on his face. Jillian wasn’t sure if it was from the fact that she was a clumsy fool, or that Suzie had a death-grip around his neck.

She figured it was par for the course. This ankle was going to hurt, come hell or high water. Not a good scenario for opening a new business, and one where she had to be on her feet all day.

Darn it.

“Oh, crap. I am so sorry!”

Suzie released Scott and helped to right Jillian, who hopped on one foot again.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, it’s the second time she’s been taken down in, oh…”

Scott glanced at his watch.

“forty-five seconds, I’d say.”

Then he moved toward her.

“Here. Let me.”

And before Jillian could even fathom it, Scott Matthews had picked her up, carried her into Bittersweets, and set her down in one of her cafe chairs. The crowd followed.

“We need to prop that ankle.”

Suzie scooted another chair.

“Pillow. She needs a pillow or something.”

Sydney skittered off, glanced about, and came back with a rolled-up apron.

Jillian protested.

“I’m really okay. Truly. It’s just a little twist.”

Brad leaned over, inspecting her angle.

“I don’t know, Jillian. It looks like it is swelling.”

“Ice! We need ice. I’ll get some.”

“Truly,”

Jillian begged.

“It is fine.”

She wiggled her toes in her sandals. This was embarrassing. Would they think her clumsy and incompetent? Oh, goodness.

“Really, it’s okay. See? I’ll stand up and prove it to you.”

So, she did just that—pushed back from the table and stood.

Immediately, she yelped and sat back down again.

“See? Where is your ice?”

Suzie stood with her hands on her hips.

“In the back,”

Jillian relented.

All three of them then, Suzie, Sydney and even Brad, moved to the back room. Exhaling deep, she looked up at Scott, the last person standing.

“Sorry. I’m a klutz.”

He grinned.

“No, I think it was me, and then it was my sister-in-law. I don’t think you had a thing to do with it.”

He glanced at her ankle then dragged a chair over to sit.

“Mind if I take a look?”

She shrugged, still embarrassed.

“I don’t mind.”

Carefully, Scott unclasped the leather buckle strap that went around the top of her foot. He then removed her sandal and set it on the floor. What happened next was simply amazing. At least, Jillian thought, for herself.

With his big hands, Scott cradled her foot. Slowly, he grazed his palm over her ankle, the warmth of skin radiating through to the bone. He caressed and thumbed over a slight puffy area on the inside of her foot.

It all felt heavenly, sending warm and fuzzy, and a little bit naughty, sensations up her leg and pointing to....

Well, she wasn’t going to think about that. Not now, anyway.

“Looks like it’s starting to bruise just a little right here.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her foot yet. His forefinger made a little circle above her arch. “See?”

Um, Scott, please stop that. That feels really nice. Too nice.

She leaned closer, and as she did, he lifted his gaze to connect with hers. Jillian’s heart jumped at the contact. And when Scott didn’t immediately tear his gaze away, she prayed that she could hold the stare if he could.

“Ankle still hurting?”

he whispered.

“What ankle?”

Scott chuckled and held her small foot in his big hands a little tighter.

“This one.”

Finally, she did break away. “Oh. Oh!”

Suddenly self-conscious, she looked completely away.

“Of course. Yes. It feels much better now.”

A ruckus erupted coming through the door.

“We have ice!”

Her glance skipped back to Scott’s face. He smiled and pushed away. She watched as Suzie and Sydney took over, elevating the foot, getting the ice pack just right, bringing her water and Ibuprofen, and pretty much cooing over her.

The men stood back and watched.

“Thank you, ladies. This is truly so very nice of you. I appreciate it so, but really, I’m good now.”

Finally, the women stopped their pampering madness, stood back, and surveyed their handiwork.

“Call me if you need anything, you hear me?”

Suzie looked her straight in the eye.

“I’m in the book.”

“And I’m just down the street.”

That, from Sydney.

“Thank you,”

Jillian told them.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. And you both have businesses to run. I promise I will not bother you unnecessarily.”

Suzie batted at the air.

“Oh, pooh! It’s what we do.”

That’s right. I’m in the South now. She smiled. “Thanks.”

“Now, we need to be off. Scott, you ready for breakfast?”

Scott nodded.

“Absolutely,”

he latched once more into Jillian’s gaze.

“Nice to meet you, Jillian. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Take care of that ankle now.”

Then he did something that she thought extremely interesting. Scott Matthews leaned into her and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Right at the left corner of her mouth. She hoped Suzie and Sydney didn’t see the obvious sparks that crackled off that little kiss—because she felt them, and so they had to be visible, right?

“Ciao, babe,”

he whispered, his gaze skittering over hers.

“Um. You, too,”

she squeaked out, watching them all head for the front door of the shop. What kind of larger-than-life sexy temptation had just swept into her intentionally-small-on-purpose world?

This she did not need. Not at all.

****

Later that morning, after Suzie had fed them all a huge country breakfast of mountain blueberry pancakes, complete with powdered sugar and special-order organic maple syrup, plump turkey sausage links, sunny side up eggs, and cinnamon coffee, Scott pushed back from the table and looked over his family.

He’d not seen Brad for a few years. They had both been busy building careers, and his brother had been busy building a life and a family. Yes, Brad had built a quite fine life for himself, despite their parents’ dysfunction.

Him? Well, he’d built a career, but as for relationships, he’d collected them and dismissed them when they got in the way.

Made life easier. At least for him.

Again, he perused the happy family in front of him. The house was warm and cozy and the setting ideal. Suzie was a businessperson as well as a chef, with Sweet Hart Inn to run, her cookbooks and television show, and her occasionally catering gigs with her cousin, Sydney. Brad had his own little kingdom at Falls Lodge, which they would head off to later. He was eager to see the renovated lodge and eventually get into one of the cabins. The lodge had been booked solid for a few days, so he was staying at the Inn until then. But first, he wanted—no needed—to spend time with his family. The first family time he’d had in a very long time.

Family time was something he had avoided ever since the big family trip of all times.

What could it hurt? It was not as if he was going to be so attached to being with Brad and Suzie, and the town of Harbor Falls, that he wouldn’t go back to Italy, right? He’d be gone again in a couple of weeks or so, so he might as well enjoy the moment. He only needed enough time to decompress, and to lay low for long enough until his boss had time to cool her heels a bit.

She would change his mind. He’d get his job back, eventually. He was convinced of it.

Harbor Falls was a quaint, appealing place, and even though he was too much of a gypsy to settle in one place for any length of time, the thought of settling in here with the family for a short spell was rather nice.

A diversion of sorts.

And Suzie? Well, she was a dream wife for Brad. He had only met her briefly at the wedding—he had flown in and out so quickly when Brad called to tell him he was getting married that he barely registered the trip in his brain. The impromptu wedding had happened during his busiest season. He didn’t feel he knew her well, but well enough, since they talked occasionally on the phone and had exchanged tons of pictures and conversations through Facebook and video chats. He felt as if he knew Petey already too, their son, but meeting the little guy in person had nearly melted his heart.

He was an uncle. An honest-to-God uncle. That fact hadn’t fully set in until he saw the boy.

The child reminded him so much of he and Brad when they were young—stocky build, freckles, unruly hair, and brown eyes. His hair might be a bit lighter than Brad’s, but he attributed that to Suzie’s strawberry-blond genetics.

“Uncle Scott,”

the boy began, while sidling up to him at the table.

“want to walk down to the lake with me? Dad says that maybe we can take the boat out and do some fishing later.”

Fishing? Scott looked to Brad.

“Seriously? I was thinking about that earlier. I’ve not been fishing in too many years.”

Brad nodded.

“Seriously. It’s become a habit for me.”

He grinned.

“Guess I’m getting to be an old man. Remember when Grandpa couldn’t go a day without heading to the creek? I’m sure some of it was to get out of the house, but there is just something calming about wetting a line.”

Calming. He could sure use that. Life had been excessively hectic of late.

“Oh, pooh, Brad! Scott doesn’t want to go fishing.”

“Well, as a matter-of-fact...”

She turned and grinned, leaning into the table.

“He wants to stay here and tell me about the chocolate business. I’m fascinated. I want to hear everything.”

That was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Glancing to his brother, he hoped to shoot him .

“get me out of this”

look. His brother obliged and stood.

“No work talk. We agreed, right Suze? I want to show Scott the lake.”

Scott watched her push back, a slight pout on her face as she looked at her husband.

“Oh, all right.”

Then she reached for his hand and patted the back of it.

“You boys go off and play. I’ll clean up the kitchen. I have to think about dinner now. I’m thinking rib eyes on the grill, a crisp broccoli salad, baked potatoes with all the fixings you want, and cheesecake for dessert. No chocolate anywhere in sight. Thoughts?”

Just the suggestion of a dinner like that when his belly was bursting with a full late breakfast was almost unpleasant.

“Ugh. In that case, I do need to walk off some of this meal.”

He stood and gave his sister-in-law a peck on the cheek.

“Your cooking is to die for,”

he whispered.

“Sounds lovely. And I’m going to gain ten pounds while I am here.”

Suzie blushed then gave him a hug.

“It’s so good to have you here, Scott,”

she whispered in his ear.

She had no clue how good it was for him.

****

It was too late to still be downstairs working at Bittersweets, but Jillian attributed it to starting up a new business, and everyone knows what they say about start-ups—you eat, sleep, and drink them for a couple of years or more to get things off the ground. To say she was driven was an understatement, because she, Jillian Bass, was driven.

This had to work. It was her dream, her tribute to her grandmother. It was her life. She’d lived high society and it had never fit. She’d tried corporate, and that didn’t work for her either. As the only child of a publishing mogul, and the sole heir to her grandmother’s fortune, you would have thought she’d just be content to sit back, let the money roll in, and live.

But not this girl. Not Jillian Bass. She wanted to work. No way would she be stuck in the position her mother was stuck in—kept woman, high-society demands, out-of-touch with reality. Jillian wanted to be on the ground, rubbing elbows with real people, doing honest and meaningful work.

Providing the world with happiness via chocolate was meaningful work. Right?

Glancing around her small shop, she smiled. Yes. Chocolate was happiness. And this place, this shop, this non-descript little business of hers was going to be her happiness. Yes, it was old. Victorian. And the building needed maintenance and would be hell on upkeep—but it was hers and she loved it. Every old, time-polished, and well-worn inch of it.

A foreign and extremely welcome bubble of joy burst up inside her.

Happy. That was it. She was happy for the first time in years. This was going to be hard work—physically and mentally—but she was up for it and welcomed it. She’d finally found her life. She didn’t need to be a big fish in a big pond. In fact, she much preferred being an average, successful fish in a small puddle of contentment.

“Thank you, Grandma Jean,”

she whispered, looking up toward the heavens.

But a little bit of trepidation tripped across her tummy too. Small businesses could be difficult to get up and running. And, it wasn’t easy to make it in small towns. The economy was a factor, too, of course, but small towns are cliquish, hard to break into, and have barriers up miles deep.

At least she’d made some headway this morning, she hoped, with two icons of small-town business in Harbor Falls—Sydney Hart and Suzie Hart Matthews. She hoped, anyway, that was the case. They had seemed to like her, right?

Sighing, she still worried.

Perhaps she had rushed the opening. She prayed she hadn’t. This weekend was the downtown merchant open house, and she had worked like hell to get things ready for that single event. Since Harbor Falls was in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the event—according to the local Chamber of Commerce web site—brought in tons of tourists each year to the town. It was a huge marketing strategy and she wanted in on it this year.

Next year she would hit it harder.

Only a couple of factors might get in her way. For one, the candy-making equipment was not all here yet, and there was no way, even if it all arrived today, that she could get set up, hire employees, and start production before the weekend. Today was Wednesday already! She had designed her own label, Chocolates by Jillian, even though she was using her grandmother’s recipes and techniques. Her grandmother had specialized in hand-rolled, hand-dipped, high-end Belgian chocolate truffles...and Jillian? Well, she would do the same. It was what she knew, and it was tried and true.

It was a good beginning. She could branch off later, right?

Different from her grandmother, though, she wanted these chocolates made right here in Harbor Falls. Her grandmother had started off small, but her name and the company grew by leaps and bounds to the point where the chocolates were only available in fine stores and by mail-order.

Jillian wanted the small shop atmosphere to sell her wares. Bittersweets and Harbor Falls was the best place for her to test the market.

Eventually, she would experiment and tweak the recipes to find her place in the chocolate world—she had an idea about a signature flavor just for the mountains—but until then she was going with Grandma’s finest because that’s what would draw the customers in.

And she was nearly ready. She’d had Robert, her manager, create a batch with her new signature label on it to ship down by Friday for the open house. She might not have her candy making supplies here yet, but she could improvise. And they were ready to take orders for shipping if the opportunities arose. All she needed was for the truffles to arrive in Harbor Falls by Friday then she would be set.

The damn ankle, though, was giving her fits. She’d gone to an emergency clinic this afternoon and it appeared she’d cracked a little bone in the arch of her foot, the doctor had said—and he’d prescribed her one of those lovely boots. Lovely, indeed. But she would wear it from now until Saturday in the hopes that on that day, she would one day wear cute shoes again. She hoped that happened by Saturday, when she planned to give out free chocolates on the street.

Sighing, she picked up her purse and her paperwork and hobbled for the door with said lovely boot. Time to lock up and get upstairs to her apartment. Tomorrow would come early.

Turning, she looked back over her little domain. Things were falling into place, weren’t they? She thought of Sydney and Suzie. Had she gotten over one barrier today, attempting friendship with the two local foodie divas? She sure as hell hoped so. She didn’t want either of those ladies as her enemy.