Page 49 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Once again, Mack closed his cell phone and felt reflective. Why on earth he had called her, he didn’t know.

Well dammit, yes, he did know. He was frustrated and tired and wanted some connection to home. And Ms. Larkin? She represented that, somewhat, because of the pups. She was taking care of his babies, and they were all he had right now.

That saddened him and he didn’t quite know what to do with that feeling.

“Let it go,”

he muttered. He’d touch base with her later in the day. Much later. Right now, he had work to do. But before he could reach the door of his hotel room, his cell binged, indicating he had a text message.

Sorry I missed your call. The babies are fine. Everyone has been fed and walked and played with.

He smiled at that, imagining her walking them, talking to them, playing with them, her long dark hair swinging over her shoulder. Long hair was such a damned turn-on for him. At least he imagined it long and dark, that was how it looked in the very bad pics he’d seen of her.

Another message popped up.

Talk later. I have a lunch date.

At that instant, something snapped in his chest. Lunch date?

What the hell?

He didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. And couldn’t for the life of him understand why. Why should he even care? For all he knew she was sixty years old and a grandmother.

No. No. He’d seen the homecoming picture. Given the date, she had to be what…early thirties?

This was dangerous news.

****

Lyssa’s chest lifted, and fell, with a tension-releasing sigh. Propped in the center of her king-sized bed, she made a nest for herself with pillows and dogs. Paws was snuggled to her left, his head resting on her hipbone; Buttercup on her right, cuddled snug up into her armpit. Seems they had taken a liking to those exact positions. She was not protesting.

With a book open across her tummy, she closed her eyes, trying to relax. Today, as each day this entire week had been, was exhaustingly long—more mental than physical exhaustion, to be sure.

She ticked off her “dates”

for the week. The stalker. The hermit. The roast beef guy. And then, Rev. Rock Peters.

Rock Peters.

How utterly amusing. The preacher at the Methodist Church was interested in her?

Snickering, she recalled how he doted on her during their lunch. How he’d seen her to her chair, his hand at her elbow, because he didn’t want her to fall again. She recalled the ease of their conversation. How he leaned forward and hung on to her every word. How he took her elbow and guided her to her car when they left.

And, how he dipped his head close to her cheek—so close she could smell his spicy aftershave—and left her with a very faint brushing kiss across her right cheekbone.

A gentleman, to be sure.

Could the Reverend Rock Peters be the one?

Now she was totally confused. What was her goal here? To find a temporary man? Or to find the man of her dreams?

Man of her dreams.

At once, her thoughts turned to the dreamy voice that came from her cell phone voicemail earlier in the day, as well. The voice of Mack Roberts, inquiring about the pups’ day, telling her he had only a moment to check in, and would touch base later.

First email. Then text. Finally, voicemail.

Why was she intrigued?

A faint rat-a-tat-tat sounded from the nightstand. She glanced at her alarm clock then to her phone doing a little bounce. Past ten. Someone was calling? Her cell repeated the jiggle against the wood. Who in the world? Paws snored on. Buttercup’s right ear twitched.

She retrieved the phone.

A familiar number flashed at her.

“Hello?”

“I know it’s very late there and I truly am sorry. I totally forgot the time change until you said hello. Okay, that’s not entirely true. So, tell me I’m insane for calling so late, hang up on me, and I’ll call you back in the morning.”

Lyssa paused at the outburst from the other end. And smiled.

“Mack?”

“Yes.”

“Is everything okay?”

He exhaled into the phone.

“No. Yes. I mean. That was supposed to be my line. About the dogs, I mean. Being okay.”

For some reason, Lyssa couldn’t keep both sides of her mouth from curling up into a huge smile. She sank back into her nest. Mack had called her. About the dogs, of course. And she was listening, once again, to his voice and well, she liked it.

Deep and sexy. Kind of like a double dose of robust coffee and dark chocolate.

She liked that. A lot.

“The babies are fine, Mack. I will let you know if anything is wrong.”

“I’m bugging you. Sorry. I’m probably interrupting your evening. Excuse me, I’ll let you go. Very inconsiderate of me.”

“No. No.”

Don’t go away, please.

“You’re not bugging me. Seriously, I’m not busy. They are your babies. You have every right to call and check up on them.”

“Were you asleep?”

“No, just lying here reading.”

“In bed?”

“Well, um…”

Was that a little personal.

“Actually, yes.”

Another pause.

“Sorry. I’ll let you go.”

She didn’t want him to go.

“No! Truly. It’s really all right. Did you have a puppy question?”

“Just checking in. Sure you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

Another very awkward silence followed. He didn’t say a word and Lyssa felt compelled to say something. But what?

“Um. Your business going well this week?”

Shit. Shit! Why did she say that? That was personal. This was a business relationship she had with him. Not personal. Why couldn’t she just have asked about the weather, or something. Besides, she reminded herself, he had a wife. Then what was he doing calling her? The dogs. Of course.

“Helluva week.”

Lyssa bit her lip.

“Yeah. Here, too.”

Getting personal. Getting personal!

“Wanna trade stories?”

Damn. Then she would have to tell him about.

“Sure. You go first.”

Insane. I’m insane.

He did. She heard about the client and the social networking platform and the grandson of the real estate mogul and the “boys”

and the huge contract that was on the line. He also told her that he was planning to finish his business by Monday afternoon and take an overnight flight home that evening. He’d pick up the babies early on Tuesday.

After he spilled all of that, she said.

“Do you feel better now?”

“What?”

“Your voice sounds less tense. Was it good to talk about it?”

“It’s nice to have a conversation without the pressure of work.”

She listened for another second or two and then he said.

“Your turn.”

“Oh, me? Just sorta normal…”

“Hm. I don’t think so. You echoed my helluva week comment earlier.”

“Oh. Yes.”

They both fell silent.

“So?”

“Well, I walked the dogs. Your two are my only clients this week. So, it’s been fun having them.”

“And?”

“And I did a little part-time work with my friends Sydney and Suzie, helping them cater a reception.”

That was on Saturday, but she was stretching coming up with things to say here.

“And?”

She bit her lip. What was he getting at?

“And, well, I did a ton of laundry and returned some library books.”

“And…?”

“Excuse me?”

“Lunch, Lyssa. You had a lunch date.”

I had a whole slew of them buster but not sure I want to go there with you.

“Oh. Yes. I did. How…?”

“You texted it. Today.”

Ah, that’s right.

“So, how was it?”

“It was…”

What should I say.

“Interesting.”

“Will you see him again?”

“I, uh…”

He cleared this throat.

“First date? Not your first date ever, I mean, because you’re an attractive lady, and I’m sure you’ve had hordes of dates with guys before, but first with this guy?”

She was an attractive lady? How did he know that? They’d never met. Oh. My. God. Another stalker?

“I could be butt-ugly for all you know.”

He choked on the other end.

“Oh boy. Stuck my foot in it, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know. Did you?”

“I Googled you.”

“You what?”

“Googled. Your name. You were the Harbor Falls Homecoming Queen of 1998.”

Stalker! Stalker! What should she say.

“Why the heck would you Google me!”

“Hell, I’m scaring you.”

“As long as you don’t want to do things to me with a pancake turner, I’m okay.”

Mack laughed straight out loud.

“Promise. I’m as safe and boring as they come. I just wanted to see what I could find out about the woman who is taking care of my pups.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“What?

“You didn’t answer my question.”

And what question would that be? Thoughts twirled in her brain like an out of control carousel. Perhaps she had allowed this conversation to go on for far too long.

“Um.”

She yawned. Would he take the hint, or would she have to end the call.

“What question was that?”

“Will you see him again?”

Crap. Where is this going.

“Um. He said something about next week…”

She’d heard of pregnant pauses before and was never sure she had experienced one. But if there ever was a pause that was pregnant, this one probably was, because it felt like there was this huge belly of a pause hanging between the two of them.

He cleared his throat.

“Where did you have lunch? A restaurant in Harbor Falls? Just curious, you see, because I’m thinking of dating again and I’m fairly new to the area and…”

Dating again? New to the area?

Ignore. Ignore.

“Oh,”

she began.

“Not a restaurant. My friend Suzie owns the Sweet Hart Inn. You know of it? We had lunch there. In fact, I had lunch there every day this week,”

she rattled on.

“…because, well, Suzie is a…”

matchmaker? No.

“a really good cook, and I love her lunches, and sometimes she arranges lunch dates and…”

“Oh yes. I’ve heard of her. She’s a matchmaker.”

Shit.

“I don’t understand why a pretty woman like you would need a matchmaker. I’d take you to lunch in a heartbeat. How about if I take you to lunch sometime?”

Double whopper crap!

“I mean…”

He paused, and she mentally pictured him back pedaling.

“As a thank you, of course, for taking care of the babies.”

“You’re paying me, Mack. You don’t have to take me to lunch.”

“But what if I would like…”

“I’m not sure your wife would agree.”

There. She’d said it.

Pause.

“Wife? Lyssa, there is no…”

About then, Buttercup yawned, flipped over, and yip-yipped in mid puppy dream. She twitched and her leg yanked up and back.

Lyssa laid a hand on the pup’s belly and crooned.

“Sh, sweetie, it will be okay.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh. I was talking to Buttercup. Bad puppy dream, I think.”

“Okay, well, go to her. I’ll let you go.”

“She’s fine. She’s right here.”

Oh, hell.

“Um, I’m heading that way…”

Very awkward pause again.

“Lyssa, are my dogs in bed with you?”

She sat straight up.

“No! Absolutely not, Mack. You gave orders to have them sleep in their crates and…”

Buttercup whimpered again. Loudly.

“Oh, I need to get to Buttercup. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye!”

She pushed the end call button on the phone.

“Damn, damn, damn!”

Plopping back against the pillows, she exhaled. Long.

Lunch? Did he ask her out?

The pups were in her bed! Could he tell?

And what had he said there at the end? Lyssa, there is no…

Wife? Was that what he was about to say? Then what about the picture? No wife? He might start dating again? Too much to think about, to sort out.

****

Stepping through the vestibule of the Baptist church and into the bright sunlight, Lyssa grimaced and brought a hand to her eyes. Suzie was supposed to meet her at the corner. She sent her a text message in the middle of the service. They both attended early services, as was their custom. Of course, everyone in Harbor Falls knew of everyone else’s habits.

Suzie was a member of the Methodist Church, where the infamous Reverend Rock Peters presided. Lyssa was a member of the Baptist Church. The churches were within short walking distance of each other.

She didn’t see Suzie there yet, so she ambled down the steps and sidewalk and waited.

Yesterday was the first day since Monday that Lyssa didn’t have an email or text or voicemail or phone call from Mr. Mack Roberts. It was also the first day all week she’d not had a lunch date.

Okay, fine with her. She had managed to get all her errands accomplished and took the pups on a very long walk. The day was so beautiful, too beautiful a spring day to stay inside. The three of them ventured up the walking trails on Falls Mountain. Even though she had her cell phone with her, she’d been without service for several hours, and wondered if she’d somehow missed a call or email or text from Mack.

Which was entirely unlikely, because the cell service stored those kinds of things for when service was engaged again.

But of course, it didn’t bother her one iota that she’d not heard from him. Not in the least, because, well, she didn’t have any kinds of feelings one way or the other for the man. It was business.

All business.

Who was she kidding?

She liked getting messages from Mack. Had enjoyed them all week, and if she were truthful with herself, looked forward to them, actually. Expected them, even.

If she only knew for certain about that wife business.

She toed some grass peeking up between bricks in the sidewalk.

In truth, yesterday had been all too quiet. And, well, rather lonely.

No matter. All that silence—no calls, no lunches, no people contact—allowed her to think. Ponder. Wonder. Consider. And just plain old muse away her day.

“Hey, girl.”

Lyssa jerked out of her rumination. Suzie stood square in front of her.

“Oh! Hi. Got your message. What’s up?”

“Saw the good Reverend earlier.”

She grinned and Lyssa wasn’t sure she was ready for the reason behind that grin.

“He wants to have lunch again. Tomorrow, at noon. Can you make it?”

Shit.

Damn.

She was going to have to stop saying shit—and damn—if she was going to start dating a preacher. But, did she really want to have lunch with Rock Peters?

Or, would she rather settle for another nice, long conversation with Mack Roberts, puppy daddy?

“Well?”

She met Suzie’s gaze head-on.

“Sure. Why not?”