The Matchmaker's Happy Ending: Boardroom Bride and Groom

by Shirley Jump

  Nick smiled, then put the toy truck into the shopping cart. “Sometimes I think it was.” Nick paused midstep, then met her gaze, and for a fleeting second she wondered if he was reading her mind. “Carolyn—”

  “Let’s get this shopping done. I need to get home. I have a ton of work waiting for me.” Carolyn started down the aisle, cutting off Nick and the attraction she read in his gaze.

  Then the look disappeared, gone in a simple blink.

  “Yeah, good idea. We should concentrate on the shopping,” Nick said, joining her by the race cars. “I have work waiting for me, too.”

  Carolyn gave him a sidelong glance but couldn’t read anything in Nick’s face. Maybe she had read Nick wrong. Or maybe he had changed, maybe he wasn’t the man she remembered.

  They finished the shopping trip, agreeing on their purchases easily. Before long, they’d found several hundred dollars worth of toys, much more than they’d expected to find or spend. The shopping spree had been fun, almost like—

  Like when they’d gotten married. Never before had Carolyn gone without a plan, running by the seat of her pants, working purely on desire.

  She hadn’t been thinking that week, simply doing. And for a moment she’d thought she could do it all. Be a wife, and maybe...down the road...a mother.

  What if today’s toy buying hadn’t been a charity mission? What if they’d been shopping for their own child?

  Where would they be now? Living in a three-bedroom house in some subdivision in Lawford, kissing each other goodbye over a cup of coffee every morning? Or would they have ended up exactly where they were—divorced, scarcely cordial colleagues? Nick still acting a lot like a college frat boy, Carolyn still the stiff Bostonian?

  “Those kids are going to need a truck to haul all this home,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Carolyn smiled. “I think I saw some of those in aisle three.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Nick said, and in his eyes, she read more than just the desire to buy a ride-on toy.

  There was a lingering desire for her. Still burning in his gaze. Emanating from his skin, his nearness. And who was she kidding? She still felt it, too.

  But the past was over. And for a good reason.

  They’d made a big mistake once. Only an idiot did that twice.

  “Well, I guess that’s it. I, ah, can run over to the department store and pick up some clothes and sheets, if you want to take care of this stuff,” Carolyn said, digging into her purse for money and then handing him half the cost of their purchases. Nick had agreed, since he had the bigger vehicle, to transport the toys to the picnic while she brought the other items. “See you tomorrow?” She tried to keep her tone as professional as it would be with a client.

  As she turned to go, Nick took a step toward her, bringing them within inches of each other. Heat tingled down her spine, igniting a fire that had been dormant for a long, long time. For a second, she wondered if he were about to kiss her. Some crazy part of her wanted him to do just that. The same crazy side that had acted without thinking back in college.

  Okay, probably not the best part of her brain to listen to.

  “Carolyn,” Nick said quietly.

  “What?” The word escaped her in a breath.

  “Don’t go. Not yet. Grab a drink with me. Catch up on old times.”

  Oh, how easy it would be to let herself get caught up in him again. But no, she was older. Smarter now.

  “Why, Nick? What’s changed, really? You never really got serious about us. And I was always going to put my career first. Never the twain shall meet, isn’t that what Shakespeare said?”

  “There was more to our breakup than just that, Carolyn. Much more,” he said, his eyes still on hers, his mouth inches away.

  Despite her words, for a second she wanted very much for the twain to meet. For this pounding need to be quieted.

  The rational half of her said this was desire, nothing more. At the same time, the feeling unnerved her, toppled her off her carefully planned and organized pedestal. She had no room in her days for a man like him—a man who would distract her, turn her from the very work that fulfilled her sense of self.

  She hadn’t the time then, she still didn’t have it now. Sharing a drink with him wouldn’t solve that dilemma.

  “You’re right,” Carolyn said. “And all those reasons are still there, Nick.”

  The temperature in the aisle dropped a few degrees. “As always, you make a compelling case, Counselor. Well, tomorrow then.” He turned to go, heading for the cash register.

  As she watched him disappear, Carolyn told herself she was glad she’d turned down Nick’s invitation. Because Nick Gilbert was a much-too-appetizing bowl of chocolate and cherry ice cream, and Carolyn was definitely feeling lactose intolerant.

  CHAPTER THREE

  NICK STOOD IN THE KITCHEN of his three-bedroom house and wrestled with the iron, cursing whoever had invented the damned thing. “Remind me again why I’m going to this shindig.”

  “Because you’re a guy who cares about kids,” said his brother, Daniel, who was making his regular visit to Nick’s house. He’d already raided the fridge, complained about the dearth of acceptable meal choices, flipped through Nick’s DVD collection twice and taken two of the newer flicks, as if Nick’s house was Blockbuster. Nick didn’t complain. He liked the company, and tolerated his brother’s intrusions. Most of the time.

  A writer, Daniel had the same dark brown hair and blue eyes as most of the Gilberts, but preferred a more relaxed approach to clothing, meaning anything fancier than jeans didn’t exist in his closet. “And you better,” Daniel added. “You grew up with four brothers and sisters.”

  “I didn’t mean about the kids, I meant, why am I attending an event where Carolyn’s going to be?” Earlier, he’d told his brother about running into Carolyn at the toy store.

  A coincidence? Or a second chance with the woman he had never really forgotten?

  Nick cursed the iron again as the steam sent globs of water over his shirt. “What is it with these things?”

  “Didn’t Mom teach you how to take care of yourself before she released you into the wild?” Daniel slid into place beside his brother. “Here, let me do it. For Pete’s sake, you’re making a mess of it.”

  Nick stepped back, amazed that his younger brother could wrangle the machine into doing his will. In five minutes Daniel had the golf shirt pressed and ready to go. “How do you do that?”

  “It’s called being a bachelor and being too poor to afford dry cleaning.” Daniel grinned and held out the shirt, then waited while Nick slipped it on. Then he unplugged the iron and set it on the ironing board to cool. “And I’m not distracted by thoughts of a woman right now.”

  “I’m not distracted.”

  Daniel arched a brow.

  “Okay, maybe I am. A little.” Nick picked up his keys, slid them into his pocket, then faced his brother. “I thought I was over her. Over the whole damned thing. Then I see her last night at the toy store and—”

  “It was Love Story all over again?” Daniel hummed a snippet of the movie’s famous theme song.

  “Not at all. More a remake of our worst moments together.” But there had been one moment when he’d remembered why he’d been attracted to her. Why he’d married her. They’d had fun—for a few minutes—and then Carolyn had gone back to being the stuffy city prosecutor, the woman who was about as much fun as a bag of rocks, and Nick was reminded all over again why they’d broken up.

  Yet guilt pinged at him still. She hadn’t been the only one at fault, and he knew it. He hadn’t exactly been Joe Sensitive, nor had he been Husband of the Year.

  “I’m just glad I got out of that marriage after a few days instead of a few years,” Nick said. “Carolyn was always too damned straight-l
aced for me. I want a woman who can have a good time, make me laugh, live a little. Not drive me absolutely insane. And when I think of Carolyn Duff, driving me crazy is the term that comes to mind.”

  Daniel bent down to pat Bandit, Nick’s German short-haired pointer. The spotted dog wagged his tail with furious joy, nearly knocking over the scraggly ficus tree beside him. A shower of dry leaves littered the floor. “There were some good times, too, from what you’ve told me. Some very good times.”

  An image of one particularly good memory—with the neon lights of Vegas shining on Carolyn’s peach skin while they made use of every surface in their suite at the Mirage—flashed in Nick’s mind. He saw her smile, heard her laughter, could almost smell the scent of her raspberry bubble bath.

  “Okay, maybe one good memory. Or two.” Another one popped into his mind, followed quickly by a third, slamming with a sting like pellets into his chest. Nick shook his head. As good as those times had been, the end had been fast and unforeseen, like a sneak guerrilla attack that came and ripped him apart in the middle of the night.

  Carolyn had been stubborn about leaving him in that diner, adamant about ending the marriage as fast as it began, claiming he hadn’t cared, he hadn’t been listening.

  And back then he probably hadn’t. But she hadn’t given him much of a chance, either.

  Just as well. They’d been totally unsuited for each other.

  Since the day of the divorce, Nick and Caroline had become nothing more than strangers, albeit strangers who had once shared a bed. And yet last night he’d sensed a vulnerability in her, a chink in the Carolyn armor, that made the lawyer in him see a flicker of doubt in the witness’s case.

  He wondered—could he have been wrong in letting her go? Could they make it work if they tried again now?

  Nick shook his head. He hadn’t changed much in three years, and from what he’d seen, neither had she. “We were insane to get married in the first place,” he said to Daniel. Definitely insane.

  Still, at odd moments, Nick thought the exact opposite. Crazy thoughts, the kind that hit him in the middle of the night when he awoke from a dream that had featured a lot of neon lights and left him pacing the floors. He’d raid the fridge or pour a scotch, and still the memories would tickle at the edges of his mind.

  He was a lawyer. Even though he’d had a lot of evidence, and a whole lot of facts in the case of his marriage, he knew when someone was hiding the truth. Carolyn most definitely had been keeping a tidbit or two in check when she’d handed back the plain gold band, sliding it across the table of the diner, then walked out of his life.

  Until yesterday.

  Nick shrugged it off. They were totally different people—and they were over. Two very good reasons to put Carolyn out of his mind.

  Daniel straightened. Bandit let out a whine of complaint, then trotted off to find a toy for fetch. “Maybe this wasn’t just serendipity, you two running into each other. Both of you getting kids to sponsor for that picnic thing. Maybe it was a sign from the Fates or whatever.”

  “Will you let it go?”

  “Only if you tell me what made you two start talking to each other after all this time apart.”

  “Desperation.” Nick chuckled. “We were both stuck in the toy aisle, me with a girl to buy for, her with a boy, and we didn’t know what we were doing. Forced allies, nothing more.”

  “Uh-huh. You couldn’t have asked any of the moms there? Or called your sisters?” Daniel said. “All of whom would have willingly given you advice.”

  “I, ah, didn’t think of that.”

  “Told you. You were blinded by the pretty woman who still gets your car engine racing.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “If you weren’t my brother, I would stop talking to you. I’ve told you a thousand times that Carolyn and I aren’t any good together. You know that old adage about the bird and the fish?” Daniel nodded. “Well, try imagining that same fable with a hawk and a shark.”

  “With you being the shark, I presume?” His brother gave him a good-natured jab in the arm. “Corporate lawyers, you’re all the same.”

  “Hey, I take offense to that. You know I’m not like other lawyers. I’m more...unconventional. Fun.”

  “You’re looking pretty conventional right now.” Daniel gave his older brother’s pressed golf shirt a light pat. Bandit took the opportunity to bound over and deposit an orange plastic bone at Daniel’s feet.

  “Oh, but I’m still unconventional underneath.” Nick raised the left sleeve, baring his arm and the tattoo he’d had for the last three years. The still-vivid image of a cartoon shark—a joke he’d had put on his arm back in law school—never showed under Nick’s suits, but usually peeked out from under the hem of his short-sleeved shirts.

  “Of course. I expected nothing less. And I still think that’s the most apropos image for you, big brother. You do realize, though, that both hawks and sharks are predators? That puts you two in the same class of animal.” Daniel grinned, then tossed the bone down the hall. Bandit took off after it, running too fast and skidding past the vinyl squeaky toy before scrambling back around to snatch it up. “So what are you going to drive this time? What was it for the senior prom? A backhoe? Took out a damned tree on your way home, I might add.”

  “It was a tractor. My date about died, but no one forgot my entrance.” Nick took the toy from Bandit, repeating the same scramble, miss and skid pattern as before. “That dog never learns.”

  “Neither do you,” Daniel pointed out. “You’re still as crazy as when we were kids. Sending your assistant on an impromptu trip to Jamaica—”

  “To boost office morale.”

  Daniel went on, ignoring Nick’s interruption. “Karaoke singing, without the musical accompaniment—”

  “Just having fun.”

  “In court?”

  Nick shrugged, pleading no contest to the charges. “I won the case, I might add. Proved my client’s jingle was not offensive.”

  “And hosting a birthday party for your nephew, complete with pony rides and a petting zoo in your backyard, for God’s sake. You know that you about made our sister have a heart attack. She is not the pony ride type.” Daniel shook his head. “It’s like you thrive on fun.”

  Daniel was right. He did indeed thrive on having fun. After growing up in a hectic family, fun was what he knew. It was as familiar as his own face, and it gave him an odd sense of comfort. And it helped him feel like he hadn’t become too much of a grown-up yet.

  But lately it had grown tired. He had a house—an investment property—but it was empty, except for Monday nights when his friends came over to watch the game. He’d dated women who laughed, women who were...fun. But not serious.

  Carolyn Duff had been serious. The one serious girl on the Lawford U campus. So serious she’d offered a challenge, an exciting allure to Nick, who’d set out to make her smile, laugh. After their first date he’d found something in her he hadn’t found in other women, a depth of character that made him want to try harder. Be more than he had been up until then. She’d brought a sober touch to his life, the kind that had him toying with the idea of settling down, becoming a grown-up. And so he’d had that crazy idea of running off to Vegas and getting married.

  Because he’d thought he could have it all.

  But no.

  Nick swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment. He was happier this way anyway. Unencumbered. Free. Answering to no one’s drum but his own.

  He slid the directions to the picnic into his pocket, then checked again to be sure he had his keys and wallet, along with a deck of cards. “Well, I’m not doing anything like that today. I’ve had enough surprises for a while.”

  Daniel walked with his brother to the door and waited while Nick locked up, leaving a dejected Bandit inside. “Where you and Carolyn are concerne
d, I think the surprises are just starting.”

  “No, we’re over. Have been since she dumped me on the drive home from Vegas three years ago.”

  “Uh-huh,” Daniel said, clearly not believing a word. “I’ll believe that when I see you two together and there’s no more electricity between you than two clods of dirt. Remember the day I stopped by for lunch last year? I saw the two of you in the hallway of the courtroom. I’m lucky I’m still alive.”

  “What do you mean, still alive?”

  Daniel clutched his heart and faked gagging. “The way you two looked at each other, it was like a couple of light sabers going at it. She wants you. You want her. If the math was any simpler, it would be preschool.”

  “You forget everything else that goes into that equation. Like the fact that she ditched me to go off and put herself into the middle of a hostage situation, even after I begged her not to. That she also realized she didn’t have time for a marriage, not that and a career, too. That this had all been some crazy impromptu decision she made and just wanted to forget. Like buying a pair of shoes that didn’t match her dress.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Aren’t we the jaded one?”

  “Come talk to me when you make a commitment to something other than a car lease.”

  Daniel raised his hands in surrender. The two men headed down the stairs of Nick’s front porch and paused at the end of the walkway. The July sun had already raised the temperature to the mid eighties, making Nick glad he’d opted for light khaki shorts to wear with the cream shirt. The event organizers had put “casual attire” on the invitations, not “business,” and for that, Nick was grateful. There was nothing worse than standing around all day in the heat in a suit.

  “So, you’re still claiming you have no interest in her?” Daniel asked.

  Nick shook his head. “There’s nothing between us. Not anymore.”

  Daniel tick-tocked a finger at him. “Don’t lie to me, big brother. I grew up with you, remember? I know the signs of you getting ready for a date.”