Mistletoe Matchmaker

He was Rose’s nephew. Not some guy she wanted to date. Well…she’d kind of like to date him, but wouldn’t. Too much danger down that trail.

The buzzer on the front door sounded, heralding the arrival of a customer. Molly looked over and saw her friend Phoebe Sellers walk in, right on schedule for their lunch date.

Her single friend.…

Instantly, Molly’s trusty matchmaker hat figuratively popped onto her head. She quirked a brow as she realized that Phoebe might be Grant’s perfect match.

Making a mental note to strategize about setting them up, she headed toward Phoebe. “Come on over and meet Phoebe,” she said to Grant. Might as well see if sparks flew.

Even little sparkles would help tell the story. Fortunately, it didn’t take much for Molly to sense who belonged with whom. Some said she had a gift for recognizing perfect matches, and with eight successful ones in the last two years, she’d have to agree.

“Phoebe, this is Grant Roderick, Rose’s nephew.” Molly turned to Grant. “Grant, this is Phoebe Sellers. She owns the ice cream store up the street.”

Grant extended his hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s mutual,” Phoebe said as she shook his hand, a decidedly speculative gleam in her blue eyes.

Oooh. Gleamy eyes. Always a good sign.

“How long have you owned the ice cream place?” Grant asked.

His interest in Phoebe had Molly’s rapt attention.

“About a year and a half,” Phoebe said, unwinding her fluffy black scarf from around her neck. “But I was born and raised in Moonlight Cove.”

“Ah, a local girl,” Grant said. “Looks like you’ve put down roots. You must like it here.”

Aha. Mention of roots. Wonderful.

“I love it,” Phoebe replied. “How long will you be staying?”

Interest, or just politeness? Phoebe had sworn off romance, too, but minds could be changed if need be. Maybe.

“Aunt Rose and Benny will be back just before New Year’s Eve,” Grant said. “So I’ll be around for a while.”

“Well, it’s good to have a new face around here.” Phoebe smiled. “Small towns tend to get a bit boring.”

Molly watched the whole exchange with interest, taking mental notes. No giant sparks yet, but it was early. And the gleam in Phoebe’s eyes and Grant’s questions…well, it could bode fairly well for a tidy setup.

Anticipation sparked; Molly couldn’t wait to sink her chops into a good matchmaking prospect. She delighted in helping others find the true love she would never have; if she couldn’t have a soul mate, well, then at least she could be a part of helping others find that special someone. It would be the closest she’d ever get to a happily ever after.

She pushed away the sadness that thought caused and tuned back to the matchmaking opportunity at hand. True love was elusive, and it took skill to make good matches that lasted; she’d have to pay attention.

“You two want to hang around awhile and just…talk?” Molly asked.

Grant held up Jade’s leash. “Sorry, I can’t. I need to get going.” He gave a mock-salute. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure.”

Phoebe murmured her goodbye in unison with Molly, and Grant left, Jade trotting obediently at his side, her tail held high.

Molly watched him go. Nice guy. Very appealing.

If she were looking for a friendly, charming, all-work-and-no-play kind of guy. Which she definitely wasn’t. At least not for herself. But Phoebe? Now, that was a different story.

Molly turned around to find her blonde friend standing right behind her, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s very cute,” Phoebe said, one brow arched.

Good sign. Physical attraction definitely played a part in who was meant to be together. Not the whole part, of course, but an important piece for sure.

“You think so?” Molly asked, careful to hide her matchmaker’s eagerness by looking at a tiny green-and-red cable-knit dog sweater.

“Definitely attractive,” she said, sounding amused.

Molly looked up at Phoebe. Her friend had her lips curved into a smile that definitely held a sly edge. “Maybe he’s available,” Phoebe said.

Molly peered at her friend more closely, her stomach flipping in a half circle. What was with Phoebe’s wily grin? “For who?” she asked, hoping her suspicions weren’t true.

“For you, of course,” Phoebe said, shrugging.

Molly’s tummy flipped all the way around. “For me?” She waved a finger in the air. “I’m not interested in him.” Which was true. Except as a match for Phoebe. Or anyone who wasn’t Molly. Rule number one of matchmaking: don’t let yourself get caught up in your prospects. Even if they were drop-dead gorgeous and charming to boot.

Phoebe snorted. “Oh, right. I saw you getting all flustered when he bent down to hook the leash. I watched you stare at him when he walked away.” Phoebe drilled Molly with her all-seeing, sky blue gaze. “You were interested, all right.”

Trust Phoebe to catch the details. She was one of the most observant people Molly knew.

Molly put the sweater in its place and headed to the register, telling herself she shouldn’t be surprised by Phoebe’s statement. It was no secret she thought Molly should be dating, even though Phoebe wasn’t dating, either. She’d lost her fiancé, Justin, God bless his soul, in a firefighting accident one and a half years ago, and hadn’t dated since.

Time to set the record straight. “I was interested in him because my matchmaker radar went off when I met him.”

Phoebe frowned, pausing, then moved closer. “Because…you wanted to fix him up with me?”

“Yup.” No use hiding the truth. “That’s what I do, Phoebs.”

“You know I’m not looking for a romance,” Phoebe said.

“Maybe this time it would be different.”

“I doubt it. You of all people should know that.”

Molly straightened some paperwork on the counter. She actually agreed with Phoebe about romance and its pitfalls. Molly was a romantic idealist at heart, and had always dreamed of falling in love, having a family and living a faith-based life. But since Jeff had dumped her three years ago—after Carl had dumped her a year before that—she’d given up on romance. Safer that way.

“Things change,” Molly said softly. “Maybe it’s time.”

Phoebe paused and drew in a heavy breath, pain shadowing her eyes. “My situation’s different than yours,” she said.

Molly reached out and squeezed her arm. “Yes, it is, no doubt about it. What you went through when you lost Justin was awful, and much worse than what I went through. But do you really want to be alone forever?”

“Do you?” Phoebe asked pointedly.

Molly flushed. Trust Phoebe to turn this dating thing around by deflecting the tough questions back to Molly. But she’d asked an excellent question, one that heralded an impasse.

But not a surrender.

So she said, “I’m not sure.” Best to at least appear to leave her own possibilities open. No sense in reinforcing Phoebe’s love phobia with talk of her own. That would be counterproductive.

Phoebe rolled her blue eyes. “You can say whatever you want, but you’re the one who’ll be seeing him again, not me,” Phoebe said.

A little frisson of excitement squiggled through Molly at the thought of seeing Grant again, taking her a bit off guard.

She’d need to watch those reactions. Carefully. Rule number one couldn’t be ignored. Ever.

She leveled an amazingly droll gaze on Phoebe. “I will see him again, because Rose asked me to look in on him once in a while. But that’s all, trust me.” Molly would make sure of it.

“Really?” Phoebe asked, pulling her wild blond hair back with the elastic band she kept around her wrist. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I saw a spark.”

Molly silently admitted Phoebe was right. Molly did find Grant attractive, and she’d been sparking all over the place. And boy, did she need to put a lid on the fire. She wasn’t looking for a romance, especially with a man who seemed to be a workaholic like her dad. She would just admire Grant from afar, while keeping her promise to Rose.

Molly found her purse and pulled out her wallet to pay Phoebe for lunch. “Really,” she replied, doing a good job of sounding detached. Now she just needed to follow through and act the part so she could do her matchmaker thing and find a way to get Phoebe and Grant out on a date.

Phoebe shot her a look coated in doubt—despite her grief over losing Justin, she remained a pure romantic at heart when it came to other people—so Molly changed the subject to the reason Phoebe was here—lunch.

“So, what are we having for lunch today?” Molly needed to stay at the store, since her one employee, Gena, had the day off. She and Phoebe were going to share some kind of takeout in the back room.

“I’m craving deli. How does a ham sandwich from Elly’s sound?”

“Perfect,” Molly said, glad Phoebe had dropped the subject of Grant.

Molly needed to do the same. Pronto.

No matter what, she had to ignore Grant’s gorgeous blue eyes, beautiful smile and charming ways. She believed in finding everlasting, real love.

For everyone…but herself.

Chapter Two

After Grant left Bow Wow Boutique, Jade obediently trotting beside him thanks to the treats in his pocket, he went home and dug into his work. Somehow he managed to focus on computer code rather than on the appealing Molly Kent.

Sure, he’d noticed how pretty her gold-flecked green eyes were when he’d bent close to put on Jade’s leash. And how smooth and creamy her skin was, with a light dusting of freckles across her pert nose. She was friendly, too, and had a good sense of humor to round out the package quite nicely. But the fact remained, he was here to meet his deadline, not resurrect his social life, which was nonexistent for a reason.

Work and romance just didn’t mix, as his ex-girlfriend Jenna had proved to him when she’d broken up with him in grad school. How ironic was it that she’d dumped him for almost flunking out because he’d paid too much attention to her?

No doubt about it. Being successful and having a romantic relationship were mutually exclusive. Not something he was going to forget anytime soon. And he sure wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Not even with someone as attractive as Molly.

Turning his thoughts away from the past and how it affected the present, he noted that, thankfully, Jade seemed pooped by her visit with Molly’s dogs. She’d plopped down on her bed in the corner when they’d come home, and had pretty much left him in peace to work for the better part of the afternoon. So he lost himself in his complicated task, only occasionally distracted by visions of Molly’s pretty eyes dancing through his brain.

Sometime later, the burn in his shoulders forced his attention away from work. He rose and massaged the kinks that were trying to take up permanent residence in his upper back. While he rolled his shoulders and stretched, he looked out the big picture window running the length of the front of the house.

The green-gray Pacific Ocean spread out in all its beauty for as far as he could see. White-capped waves rolled in to the shore, and seagulls dipped and soared here and there. The clouds had broken up a bit, and the sun was actually peeking through, sending golden beams of light into the roiling ocean. Wow. What a view.

Man, his mom would have been all over this.

A shaft of grief pierced him, literally taking his breath away. He pressed a hand to his heart, trying to breathe.

His mom had adored the beach, and they’d often spent time here with Aunt Rose while he’d been growing up. But Mom was gone now, and he’d never share another walk on the beach with her again. Or another breathtaking scene like the one before him.

His eyes burned.

With practiced determination, Grant shoved his grief down into its cage where he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Instead, he reiterated in his mind how important his job was to him, focusing on his career goals rather than his grief.

He’d come a long way from being the brainy geek with the pen protector in his pocket who everyone had laughed at in high school. Only at church had he been accepted. He’d found solace, community and appreciation there, and he’d truly found a connection to the Lord.

But then God betrayed him by taking Mom. And suddenly, Grant’s faith had been shattered.

Now, he was so close to finally cementing in stone the lasting career respect he needed. Work was the only thing that mattered. He sat down and got back to his computer code.

Sometime later, a knock sounded on the front door, jerking Grant from his work-induced haze. Jade sounded the bark alarm.

Grant looked up, his eyes burning, just in time to see her sprint to the door.

He rose from the makeshift computer station he’d set up at the antique roll-top desk in Aunt Rose’s living room and glanced at his watch. Six-thirty. Wow. Where had the afternoon gone?

Stretching the kinks from his back and shoulders again—maybe a few aspirin would do him some good—he headed to the front of the house.

Jade was waiting by the front door, her tail wagging, obviously eager to greet their visitor, whom, if he guessed right, had long curly red hair and stunning green eyes.

Molly.

His heart rate kicked up a notch, but he ignored the sensation. She was just here to deliver tennis balls for Jade, right? Nothing to get all excited about.

He opened the door, holding Jade’s collar—he learned fast—and saw Molly standing on the other side of the door, her face wreathed in a pretty smile that did funny things to his insides.

“Hi!” she said, her voice bright and sunny, which was all the sunshine he’d get today, given the cloudy skies. She held up a blue bag in her left hand. “I stopped at the Sports Shack and brought Jade some fresh tennis balls.”

He couldn’t help but smile back; her good mood was infectious after a long day of dry programming. “I figured it was you,” he replied, pulling a squirming Jade back, putting his shoulders into the task. Boy, the dog was strong, and obviously wanted to get to Molly.

“Remember the treats?” Molly asked, nodding to Jade, who was about to pull his arm out of its socket. “Better use them now.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Grant felt his back pocket with his free hand, then pulled the treats out.

“Tell her to sit, and stay,” Molly instructed. “Use a firm but kind voice.”

“Sit,” he said firmly. “Stay.”

Jade instantly sat, her coal black eyes beaming up at him.

“Now, give her a treat and praise her,” Molly said.

He dug a treat out of the bag and hastily gave Jade one. “Good dog.”

She gobbled it up and kept her gaze homed in on him.

Grant turned to look at Molly, shaking his head. “Amazing. It works every time.”

She shrugged. “What can I say? Most dogs will do anything for food.”

He tucked the treats back into his pocket. “Gotta remember that.”

She held up a bag of groceries in her other hand. “Speaking of food, I brought stuff to make spaghetti.”

He blinked. “I really shouldn’t take any time away from work,” he automatically said. Though, actually, a break sounded great.

Molly peered around him, her gaze landing on his already well-used work area. “Looks like you’ve been at it for a while.”

“Yeah.” He swiped a hand over his face. “Pretty much all day.”

“Maybe you could use a breather.”

His thoughts exactly. He hated to admit it, but she was probably right.

“Everyone needs to eat, don’t they?” she asked when he didn’t respond. “Doesn’t spaghetti sound good?”

His stomach growled. “I don’t want to impose.” Although, a home-cooked meal was sounding better and better. He’d eaten a quick breakfast of toast and eggs early this morning, but hadn’t eaten anything since. Not surprising he was starving.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be imposing,” she said. “I’d be cooking for myself, anyway, so it’s no trouble.”

“You’re very persuasive.” He’d have to watch out.

“I’ve been told I’m quite stubborn,” she said, lifting her chin.

“I can tell.” Actually, he kind of liked that about her. And, really, it would be rude to refuse her offer. He knew she was just trying to help, as his aunt had wanted.

Making a snap decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret, he stepped back and gestured Molly in. “You’ve talked me into dinner, on one condition.”

She looked expectantly at him, her green eyes questioning. “Which is?”

“I don’t want you to be waiting on me. So I’ll help you get dinner together, okay?”

She paused, shaking her head, her curls swaying with the motion. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary.”

“I insist. You’ve had a long day, too, and I’m sure you’re tired. If we work together, we can turn out a meal in no time.” And he could get back to work faster, refueled and ready to tackle his code with fresh focus. Actually, if he ate a hearty meal, he’d probably get more work done. Another reason to agree to her deal.

“O…okay,” she said, sounding strangely reluctant to agree. “I still have to drop the lures by Floyd’s house, so I guess it would be nice to finish up here early.”

“Exactly,” Grant replied, nodding.

“Great. So, let’s get started.” She moved around him and headed toward the homey kitchen, her soft, breezy scent hitting him when she walked by.

Boy, she smelled good. Kind of like flowers in a meadow, all sweet and warm and fresh. Suddenly, hanging out in the kitchen with her did sound great.

Uneasiness snaked through him. Maybe too great for a man who didn’t want to get caught up in any woman ever again.

Molly unloaded the food for dinner onto Rose’s tile kitchen counters, her hands so clumsy she almost dropped the loaf of French bread she’d brought.

She very deliberately set the bread on the counter, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She needed to simmer down and focus on finding out more about Grant so she could figure out who to set him up with.

Simple.

The thing was, cooking for Grant was a lot different than cooking with Grant.

That thought was reinforced when Grant entered the room, Jade at his heels adoringly, and he brought his charming self right into Molly’s space. Yes, indeed. Rose’s kitchen was small, Grant was big, and somehow preparing a meal together held the promise of a closeness that rattled her to no end. She wasn’t here to act on any attraction she might feel. She was here to learn more about him to find his perfect match.

She gripped the edge of the counter, watching Jade plop herself down in the corner and lay her head on her paws, her black eyes watching everything.

“What do you want me to do?” Grant asked, looking around the kitchen. He moved closer, then reached over and picked up a fat onion she’d unloaded. “You want me to demolish this baby?”

Trying to keep her wits about her, Molly zeroed in on the knife block to her right. She grabbed a big blade suitable for chopping. “Here you go,” she said, handing it to him, careful not to touch his hand. She spied the cutting board next to the sink and picked it up. “You’ll need this, too.”

He put the knife down and took the board from her. “Okay. I’ve got tools. I’m sure I can figure out how to slice and dice.”

She peered at him. “Have you ever chopped an onion?”

He shook his head as he retrieved the knife and held it up in the air. “No, I sure haven’t.”

“Um…you want me to show you how?” Chopping lessons seemed harmless enough.

He grabbed the onion and eyed it. “Nah, how hard can it be?”

Relief and disappointment hit her at once, creating a strange kind of off-balance feeling inside of her she didn’t really like. She gestured to the cutting board. “Have at it, then. I only need half.”

He threw the onion in the air and deftly caught it with one hand, grinning. “Half a chopped onion for Chef Molly, coming right up.”

My, he was cute. Put him in front of a grill with tongs in his hand and she was his.

Disconcerted all over again, Molly spun around and opened the refrigerator to hunt for salad makings.

Bent over, she rustled around in the fridge, then jerked one of the lower drawers out, pawing her way through the produce Rose had obviously bought for Grant.

“So,” she said, focusing on her goal of learning as much as possible about Grant. “Do you read much?” She shoved a bag of baby carrots aside, searching for lettuce.

“Do I do what much?” Grant replied after a long moment.

“Read.”

“Deed?”

“No, read, as in books,” she yelled. Suddenly, a mental picture of herself developed in her brain, and the picture showed her hunched over, yelling into the refrigerator.

“Deed the rooks?”

Oh, brother. She grabbed the elusive lettuce at the bottom of the bin and straightened, chastising herself for being flustered. Grant was just a man, no more, no less. The fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous shouldn’t matter.

She whirled around, shoving her hair out of her face. Time to be reliable and fulfill her promise to Rose by doing her matchmaker thing. Without acting like a twelve-year-old hanging out with her first crush.

She looked at Grant. He had his eyebrows drawn together and the knife suspended in midair. Obviously, he was puzzled by her behavior. Who could blame him?

He probably thought she was a bona fide nut job.

She smiled awkwardly, trying to look as if she hadn’t just attempted to have a conversation with him while shouting into a kitchen appliance. “No. Read books.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding slowly. He went back to chopping, although he wielded the blade more like a machete than a knife. “Not really. I don’t have time.”

Right. Because he was always working. “Really? I’m a big reader.” Although, since she wasn’t looking for a match for herself, that discrepancy in their reading habits didn’t matter. “Did you read as a kid?” she asked, heading across the kitchen to get a salad bowl from the cupboard.

“Yeah, I guess.” More machete-ing. “Mostly science books.”

That made sense. He was a brain, even though he didn’t look like one.

“Oh, and comic books,” he added. “I loved superheroes.”

“Really? I read a lot of comic books as a kid, too. Who’s your favorite?”

He stopped chopping and stared at her. “Spider Man, of course.”

“Me, too,” she replied, amazed that they had the same favorite. “No contest. My dogs’ names are Peter and Parker, and I own the movie. How about you?”

“I only had time to see it once, but I loved it.”

Of course. No time for movies in this guy’s life. “You still have your comic books?”

He stilled, then quickly looked down. “My mom saved them, so they’re up in my parents’ attic somewhere.”

Sympathy shot through her. Oh, yes. Rose had told her he’d recently lost his mom. “Have you ever thought about finding them?” she asked softly. “It might be fun to reread them sometime.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Wasn’t it important for her to know lots about him? You know, to properly set him up.

Picking up the knife, he began to studiously chop the onion again, pausing before he quietly answered, “A lot of my mom’s stuff is up there.”

A knot built in her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Your aunt Rose told me about your mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said, not looking up, his voice raw and husky. “It’s been rough.”

Her eyes burned. “My mom died when I was a little girl, so I know how hard it is to lose a mom.” She’d been inconsolable for months after her mom had been killed in a car accident.

Grant looked up, his eyes full of empathy. “Oh, wow. How old were you?”

“Eight.”

He shook his head. “That must have been really, really hard.”

“It was.” Harder still had been essentially losing her father, who had been so filled with grief over his wife’s death, he’d forgotten all about Molly.