Page 48 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

“Oh. Yum.”

Lyssa smacked her lips and looked over the lunch preparations spread out on the island counter in Suzie’s kitchen.

“I thought we’d start off with a nice salad of mixed organic greens, grown locally I might add, with red onions, pecans, mandarin oranges, and a light poppy seed dressing. My own, of course.”

Suzie looked up and smiled at Lyssa as she did a rough chop on the greens.

“Then for the entree, there is Chicken Piccatettes, lightly breaded with Japanese panko, and drizzled with a sweet and savory Dijon mustard sauce. Grilled asparagus will round out that dish. Of course, we’ll have sweet tea for the beverage. I still have some Key Lime tarts, so thought we should use them for dessert. What do you think? Oh, and then coffee, too.”

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I hope the poppy seeds don’t stick in my teeth.”

Suzie grinned.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. I’ll switch to a sweet orange vinaigrette. How about that?”

“Perfect. What is a Chicken Piccatette? Never heard of that.”

“Well, no, of course you haven’t! I just made it up. It’s going in the next cookbook. They are small chicken pieces, pounded and breaded. Like fancy little chicken piccata nuggets!”

Grinning, Lyssa snatched one of the mandarin oranges and popped it into her mouth.

“Only you, Suzie. I love it.”

“Hey, it’s my thing. I love to cook and cater to my friends.”

She tossed the greens into a large glass bowl and tossed with the red onions and pecans.

“Do you want to know who is coming?”

“No. I want to be surprised.”

“Okay. Perhaps that is best.”

The doorbell chimed.

“Oh!”

Both women glanced at the kitchen clock.

“It’s eleven-fifty-five. Nice,”

Suzie said.

“Not too early and definitely not late. A good sign. Now, this is the routine we’ll follow. You will be in the dining room waiting. I’ll bring him in and introduce you. Your places are set. You can chit chat for a moment, and I’ll bring the salad and, in a few minutes, the entree, then later, if you get to it, desert.”

Lyssa nodded.

“Oh! And what about the high sign?”

“Yes, I’ve thought about that. If he is a definite no, excuse yourself to the powder room. Go to the one upstairs off the guest bedrooms, and don’t come back down. I’ll explain to the guest that you have suddenly come down with an excruciatingly painful migraine and that you need sleep. I’ll put his lunch in a go box and send him on his way.”

Lyssa took a deep breath.

“Got it. Simple and good. I’m ready.”

“Go to the dining room. I’ll go fetch Suitor Number One.”

The doorbell chimed again.

Both women headed to their respective posts.

****

Lyssa stood in the dining room and glanced about. The table was set. Not too fancy, nice and homey. Suzie had moved in a small table by the window facing the lake, creating an intimate and cozy nook. A couple of pansies floated in a crystal bowl of water on the table. Good ol’ Suzie, providing a low centerpiece so they didn’t have to strain looking over it.

Her palms suddenly sticky, she swiped them down the front of her jade green shift. She wore a soft yellow cashmere sweater over it and a simple strand of pearls at her neck.

Her sandals were died the color of her sweater and showed off nicely the pedicure she’d given herself the night before. Glancing to her right in the china cabinet door, she saw that her long, straight hair shone the sun’s reflection though the window. She’d chosen to wear it down and hadn’t realized how far down her back it had grown.

She wished she’d not gained that ten pounds recently.

“…we’re so glad you could come, Gerald, and here is Ms. Larkin.”

Suzie’s voice interrupted her musing.

She stepped forward and took—Gerald’s?—hand and shook it. He smiled and peered into her eyes with his bronze-brown ones.

“Hello, Mr…?”

“Stubbs,”

he told her.

“Gerald Stubbs.”

His grin didn’t falter, and he pumped her hand like he was priming the water pump.

“Gerald is from Dalton Springs, Lyssa. He and Shelley knew each other when she lived there.”

Her stomach turned a flip-flop. She could tell by looking that Gerald Stubbs was not the man of her dreams. Too tall and thin, balding, and semi-professorish-looking. But wait, that wasn’t why she was doing this, was it? She wasn’t looking for the man of her dreams just yet, right? Just a man enamored enough with her so she could hang with him a while and then break up—to give her experience, you know. No matter what Suzie thought.

She prayed he was not a man of her nightmares.

“Oh?”

she crooned.

“Tell me how you know Shelley. We were in the same class all through school. Let’s sit.”

She motioned politely to the chair and they faced each other at the small table.

She smiled.

He glanced over his shoulder at Suzie, leaving the room.

She asked a question.

He gave a one-word reply.

The chitchat was tedious.

He’d smile and answer, never asking another one back. He kept looking over his shoulder with a nervous tic. It became obvious very quickly, that Stubby didn’t know a thing about holding a conversation. Still, she wondered if he had possibilities for her purpose…

“I’ve brought you a nice salad for starters.”

Suzie sat the plates in front of them.

Lyssa rubbed her forehead.

“Very lovely,”

Gerald Stubbs said.

“It’s her own recipe, the dressing and all.”

Gerald peered up at Suzie.

“Yes, I know. I’m quite charmed with Miss Hart and her cooking. I’ve been a fan of hers for years. Followed her progress. Even took a cooking class once years ago.”

He grasped Suzie’s hand and peered up at her.

“I’m sure you don’t remember. I attended with my aging mother.”

Lyssa noted Suzie’s face pale as Gerald petted the back of her hand.

He went on.

“Why, I have a copy of her cookbook. I was so hoping to get your autograph, Ms. Hart…”

He tilted to his left and Suzie jerked her hand out of his grasp. He produced the cookbook from somewhere under the table. Where had he hidden that thing?

Suzie gasped.

Lyssa rubbed her forehead a mite more furiously.

“Your head hurting, Lyssa?”

“Like a mother…”

Suzie grasped her arm.

“Oh, you poor dear. Excuse us for a moment, Gerald.”

Gerald grinned and rose as the women exited.

Suzie swung around inside the kitchen door.

“He’s a psycho. Oh my God! It’s my stalker!”

Lyssa’s eyebrows knit.

“Excuse me? Stalker? You have a stalker?”

“Some guy with the initials G.S. keeps emailing me. Saying naughty things he’d like to do to me, like, with rubber spatulas and whisks and pancake turners and strawberry pie gel.”

“Oh, gross, Suzie. Does your husband know this?”

“Yes, and my brother-in-law, Matt, too. You know, he’s on the force. The police are looking. I can’t believe—Oh, God!”

A male voice interrupted them and the women both shrieked and turned. They both twisted back to see Gerald Stubbs standing in the kitchen door.

“Miss. Hart,”

he said.

“I’m afraid I drank all of my tea. Could I have a refill?”

The women met gazes with saucer-round eyes.

“Of course!”

Suzie, hostess with the mostest even under extreme duress, went straight to her cabinet, pulled out a Styrofoam cup, filled it with sweet tea, then led Gerald Stubbs to the door, all the while explaining how Lyssa had just come down with a horrible migraine and would not be able to finish the date. That Suzie would call him when it was a better time. And in the meantime, perhaps he should just stay and wait on his side of the mountain.

Slamming the door on her perp, she flipped the lock, raced back to the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,”

Lyssa remarked.

“Nooooo…”

She started dialing.

“Did you lock the door?”

She jerked her head into a nod.

“Dead bolted it, too.”

“Calling the police?”

“Yes!”

“I didn’t know you had a stalker.”

“It just hit me it was him. Shit! I invited him into my home!”

“Oh crap, Suzie.”

“He wasn’t the one for you, Lyssa.”

“Hell’s bells, Suzie, I knew that from the moment you said Stubbs. I’m not marrying anyone, no matter how tempting, whose name is Stubbs. And let me tell you, he wasn’t tempting.”

“Why?”

“Think about it.”

“Oh.”

She slammed down the phone.

“Busy! How can the Harbor Falls police department number be busy! I’ll call Matt’s cell.”

“Are we on for tomorrow then?”

“Sure.”

Suzie drummed her fingers on the counter.

“Suzie, may I take my lunch?”

Suzie filled a to-go box while finally chattering with Matt, then shoved the box into Lyssa’s hands. She knew that was her cue to leave.

“Lock the door behind me,”

she mouthed to Suzie, who fluttered her away with her hands and followed her toward the door. Lyssa heard the clicks behind her as she stepped onto the wide porch.

Once she got to the car, she heaved out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“One suitor-stalker down and how many more to go…”

****

On Wednesday, Suitor Number Two was dismissed just as the entree of a cold roast beef sandwich with alfalfa sprouts and horseradish sauce hit the table. Lyssa’s stomach growled and SN2 snorted and laughed, which of course, gave her a tremendous headache since she disliked anyone laughing at her, and she excused herself and headed toward the powder room. Since SN2 hadn’t touched his sandwich, Lyssa ate both hers and his that day because, well, roast beef with horseradish was like her very favorite thing.

Suitor Number Three arrived Thursday on horseback, sharing that he lived just up the mountain. Lyssa had seen the guy around over the years and thought he was a hermit. Turns out, Suzie told her, he’d invested wisely and pinched every penny that came his way and could afford to be a hermit if he wanted to. He’d somehow divulged at the grocery store the other day that he was considering taking a wife.

Suzie’s interest, of course, was piqued.

“You might get a good match here, if you pick him,”

she joked.

“Maybe we should talk pre-nup.”

Lyssa wouldn’t even let Suzie bring him into the house. Suzie made some excuse and sent the poor man on his way, ripped jeans, flannel shirt, beard, and all.

That day they had vegetable lasagna. Suzie refused to let Lyssa eat SN3’s portion for lunch but said she could take it home for dinner. Lyssa did, however, eat both of the chocolate-pecan brownie sundaes Suzie made for their dessert. Suzie even splurged and had one with her.

Then on Friday, SN4 made his appearance. By then, Lyssa was rather tired of the whole charade.

“I really think this one has potential.”

Lyssa blew her bangs straight up.

“Why do you think this one is different?”

Cocking her head to one side and tucking a finger under her chin, Suzie replied.

“Well, let me tick off the reasons: he wears a suit to work every day, he’s clean-shaven, has a respectable job in the community, and is handsome as hell.”

Lyssa’s hopes went up a bit.

“So, do you think he might be more than the temporary kind?”

“I think he’s the marrying for life kind.”

“Really?”

Suzie nodded.

“Really. No doubt.”

“And he’s from Harbor Falls? Do I know him?”

“You do.”

“Quit jerking me around. Does he know it’s me he’s coming to meet?”

“Yes, he does. He’s quite excited about it, Lyssa. He could be the one.”

Lyssa bit her lip.

“The marrying kind, huh?”

“The forever kind.”

“Holy shit!”

The doorbell chimed.

“Holy something…”

Suzie muttered and started for the door.

“Go to your spot.”

For some gawd-awful reason, Lyssa’s tummy started to twitter like a million butterflies just took off inside her. Shit. Shit! Could this be the one? Who in the heck could it be?

Her mind ticked through men in town she knew. Men in suits. Men with good jobs. Men who were single and the marrying forever kind.

She drew a blank.

“Hell’s bells…”

She wrung her hands and sat at the little table. Her denim skirt was a tad snug, so she shifted on the dainty chair. Her jacket was a little tight, too, so she reached to her breast to flick open the top button—which went flying off to the right and ricocheted off the picture window. It rolled and she watched it skitter under the table. Not wanting to lose it, she scooted the dainty chair back, bent to reach and… rrrrriiiiippppp!

The zipper on her denim skirt broke. She grasped her abdomen and jerked forward.

The chair tipped.

One leg crumpled.

A screeching sound met her ears as the chair collapsed and her left hip hit the floor.

“Oh, crap! Ow.”

With that, she cursed a blue streak and just lay there until a very male hand with long fingers reached down and asked to help her up.

“Are you all right?”

he queried.

Her gaze rose to his face and her mouth went dry.

“Uh, sure.”

In no time, she was hoisted to her feet. She looked at the man.

“Reverend Peters?”

“Yes, Alyssa.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you. I mean, the button flew off and…”

She clutched her belly again and tried to close the placket on her jacket with her other hand.

Was her skirt gapping open? And what was that chirping from across the room.

“Would you excuse me a moment? I…I need to fix…”

He smiled with two perfect rows of white teeth and her stomach quivered. He was quite handsome for a preacher man.

“Of course. I’ll be here waiting.”

She could just die!

In two steps, she snatched her handbag from an upholstered chair—the chirping was from her cell phone—and waddled off to the kitchen with Suzie on her heels.

“Get back in there. You do not have a headache.”

“No, but I’ve got a busted zipper and if we don’t fix it my ass is going to be showing, plus my cell is ringing.”

“Well, what do you expect with the zipper, Lyssa? You’ve been eating like crazy lately. Geez! And let voicemail pick up the call. You’ve got things to do here.”

“Just help me fix it.”

She grasped Suzie’s hands.

“Oh, God, Suzie. It’s Reverend Peters. From the Methodist Church. What the f—?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Okay. I won’t. But… I can’t do a preacher.”

“He’s not the ‘doing’ kind, Lyssa. He’s the marrying kind, remember? And he’s interested. He told me he’s been watching you walk the pups all week and thinking about you.”

Her tummy felt a little weird.

“Potential?”

“I think so.”

“But I never pictured myself with a man of the cloth.”

“Could be what you need.”

“Why do you say that? I’m not a bad girl or anything.”

“Of course not, Lyssa, I just mean he could be just what you are looking for.”

“What I am looking for is a temporary relationship. The practice one before the big one. Reverend Peters is obviously not that man. Heck, I don’t even know his first name.”

“Rock.”

“What?”

“His name is Rock. Rock Peters.”

Lyssa stared at her.

“Get out of town.”

“I’m not kidding you. He says his mother loved Rock Hudson. Named her baby boy after him.”

“No shit.”

“Shit.”

Lyssa’s gaze drifted away.

“Mrs. Reverend Rock Peters…”

She jerked her gaze back.

“I can’t marry a man named Rock Peters.”

Suzie pursed her lips, and then blurted out.

“For God’s sake, Lyssa! Quit choosing your future husbands because of their name. You didn’t want to marry a Stubby so I got you a Rock Peters. What the hell else do you want?”

Lyssa plopped onto a bar stool and her skirt ripped the rest of the way. She fiddled with her purse and retrieved her phone.

“All right. All freakin’ right. I’ll go speed-lunch with the almighty Reverend Rock Peters.”

“Good girl. Look at it this way. If you marry him forever, you still make your goal, right? You just skipped the middleman.”

“Great.”

“Now, let’s fix that zipper. I’ve got some safety pins in my bedroom.”

Lyssa stood and Suzie eyeballed her.

“Better yet, let’s just find a long sweater to cover up the gap.”

“Sure. Okay. Fine.”

“Then go try it with Reverend Peters. That’s all I ask. Just give it a whirl.”

Lyssa scowled, wondering what kind of whirl Rock Peters could give. As Suzie skittered off toward her bedroom, Lyssa flipped open her phone.

Mack.

Mack had called?

Not an email. Not a text. But a call. Upon closer inspection, she realized she had a voicemail, too. Voice. She would hear his voice?

Suddenly, all thoughts of giving the good Reverend Rock Peters a whirl lost its appeal. And that wasn’t a good thing. For some insane reason, she was harboring romantic thoughts about the mysterious Mack Roberts—who had a wife, lest she forget.

She’d seen the picture in the entryway.