Contents
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Praise for the Series
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Enjoy the rest of the series!
Other Books by Lindzee Armstrong
Sweet ‘N Spicy Reads
About the Author
Copyright
“This heartwarming, feel-good romance will leave you swooning and cheering for the characters as they fight for true love.”
~InD’Tale Magazine review of Miss Match
“This pleasant tale will reward readers with the dance of life for a resounding happily-ever-after.”
~InD’Tale Magazine review of Not Your Match
“The witty dialogue and the emotion that slowly enraptures the reader makes this book a gem.”
~InD’Tale Magazine review of Mix ‘N Match
“Expect solid writing, likeable characters, plausible fun plots, slick descriptions and wonderful romance.”
~Lisa Swinton, award-winning author of Vocal Crush
“Devoured it in an evening!”
~Laura D. Bastian, author of Echoes of Summer and Winter’s Kiss
“Talk about book hangovers!”
~Jaclyn Weist, author of Ring of Truth
“Heart-melting romance.”
~Liz Stone, reader
“Lindzee Armstrong knocks it out of the park again! Fun and entertaining, yet clean.”
~Bre, reader
“I cried at the end of this book. This one is definitely in the running for Best Book of 2016!”
~Megan, blogger
To my amazing Sweet ‘N Spicy Readers,
who provide me invaluable support on this crazy writing journey.
I couldn’t do it without you amazing people!
Kate dropped onto the couch in the nurse’s break room, her legs collapsing beneath her as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Sixteen hours since she’d been outside the hospital. It felt like sixteen days.
She’d stay for sixteen more if it meant not having to play a nurse-slash-doormat to Beau. But she’d worked her three days of twelve-hour shifts, and she’d have to spend the next four days at home.
She sniffed her scrub top, then winced at the sour smell. She’d slipped in a puddle of vomit when rushing to a Code Blue, and even though she’d changed her top, the scent clung to her. And maybe a bit of amniotic fluid, too. She’d had to catch a baby when a crowning mom couldn’t wait for the doctor.
“That bad, huh?”
Kate glanced up at Liza, whose frizzy gray-streaked hair and rumpled blue scrubs suggested she was as tired as Kate felt.
“I can’t believe three nurses called in sick,” Kate said. “That’s got to be some sort of record for one shift.”
“There’s not enough hand sanitizer in the world to keep the stomach flu away forever.” Liza spun the dial on her locker door. “I can’t wait to go home and take a long, hot bath. I’ve been here fourteen hours. What about you?”
“Sixteen.” And she’d spent the last two comforting a mom who’d lost a baby—full term, with no complications other than a missing fetal heartbeat. Kate had held back tears as she helped the grief-stricken parents bathe and dress their baby, then place a pink bow on her head. Kate had spent ten minutes crying in the bathroom before collecting herself enough to finish her final rounds.
Liza winced in sympathy. “At least you have that handsome husband of yours waiting for you at home. Mine is grabbing takeout tonight. I told him I was too tired to cook.”
It took everything in Kate not to laugh at the idea of Beau grabbing takeout. He was a lot of things, but a doting husband definitely wasn’t one of them.
He’s in pain, Kate reminded herself for the millionth time. Beau broke his back in a roofing accident only two months into their marriage. Nothing had been the same since then.
“It must be nice to have a husband at home who can hold down the fort while you’re working,” Liza continued. “One year until Keith can retire and do the same. I’m counting down the minutes.”
Kate would just be grateful if Beau hadn’t created more work for her. When she’d left that morning at four o’clock—Beau still snoring loudly in their bed—the dishes had overflowed in the sink, the counters hadn’t been wiped down in two days, and three baskets of unfolded laundry sat at the foot of their bed. In the past, she would’ve suggested he help pick up around the place. But the days of silent treatment—or worse, the verbal cut-downs she’d receive for the suggestion—had stopped being worth it long ago.
You love him, she reminded herself. But after six years, she was so exhausted.
“See you Monday?” Liza asked. “I think we’re working the same shift.”
“Yeah. It’s your last week, right?”
“Yes, and it can’t come soon enough. I’m getting too old for these insanely long days. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? They’re still hiring.”
The offer was beyond tempting. Liza had been hired by a pediatrician’s office, where she’d work five eight-hour days and only one weekend a month. It would be so nice to have an excuse to be gone each day, to have energy to pick up around the house when she got home. But it also wouldn’t have the overtime pay of the hospital. “Thanks, but I need to stay here.”
“Well, the offer stands. No promises, but I’d put in a good word for you. See you Monday.” Liza gave a little wave and left the break room.
Kate pulled her backpack out of a locker. The glowing screen of her phone showed Beau had texted her twenty-three times in the last sixteen hours. She wondered what she’d done wrong this time, and how much money Beau had spent in retribution. His disability checks barely covered their utilities and didn’t come close to covering what he spent each month on beer and cigarettes. But he still complained whenever she picked up extra shifts to help with the financial strain.
He’d be mad when she walked in the front door without calling him first. But the last half hour of peace and quiet was worth it. She clung to the hope that the man she married was still somewhere inside the Beau hardened by years of chronic pain.
Kate sank onto the bus stop bench outside the hospital, a few mosquitoes buzzing around the glowing streetlight. The California heat had finally died down with the onset of fall, and a light breeze cooled the sticky perspiration on her skin. She ran a weary hand over her hair, smoothing the dark brown strands back into her ponytail. Her auburn roots were starting to show again. She’d have to get up before Beau in the morning and dye the red away.
The bus was on time for a change. Kate gratefully took a seat near the front and leaned her head against the window. Maybe she’d sleep in the spare room tonight. Beau snored so loudly, and his constant tossing and turning kept her awake. If she sneaked out after he fell asleep, he’d never know.
“Isn’t this your stop, honey?”
Kate jerked awake, forcing her eyelids open despite the way they burned. “Yes, thank you.”
“You look exhausted. Go home and get some rest, okay? They work you too hard at that hospital.”
“I’ll do my best. Goodnight.” Kate stumbled on the last step but caught herself before falling.
The three blocks home might as well be a marathon. Every painful step rubbed the blister on her foot raw. The sun h
ad set hours ago, the dim streetlights illuminating the cracked and buckling sidewalk. Kate let her head droop as she struggled to keep her eyes open. The route was so familiar she could probably walk it in her sleep. Not that she was eager to try.
She turned the corner and squinted at the sudden change in light intensity. Her eyes protested at the flashing blue-and-red, the sandpaper feeling making them water. She fought against the pain for three seconds, blinking rapidly, before her vision finally cleared.
Two blocks down, in the middle of the cul-de-sac where she lived, were four police cars and two fire trucks. The next door neighbor’s teenage son had probably been caught vandalizing the high school again.
And then she saw the smoke.
Her heart stopped beating, then raced in her chest as she struggled to breathe. Black smoke poured from the windows of her small rambler. Flames licked at the wood siding, swallowing it up like a hungry lion.
Kate’s feet pounded against the pavement as she ran past the neighbors standing on their front steps, past Old Mr. Hillman’s yippy Pomeranian, and toward the house that held everything she owned. Her grandfather had built that house. She’d been raised there. The hope chest he’d given her for high school graduation would never survive that blaze. All her furniture, clothing, and mementos were being eaten alive by the inferno.
And then she thought of one more thing that might be inside that house. Beau.
No! She pushed herself to run faster. Guilt slammed against her for every negative thought she’d had about him today.
Her hands grasped at the bulky yellow-and-black fire coat of the first fireman she reached. Soot covered his face but couldn’t hide the cleft in his chin. He was perhaps in his late twenties, with startling blue eyes that pierced through the dark.
“My husband,” Kate gasped. Her sides ached from her two-block sprint and she was pretty sure her blister was bleeding. “Was he inside?”
She’d wanted out for years, ever since it became clear the accident had stolen her husband. But not like this. Never like this. Her knees buckled and the fireman grabbed her arm, his grip firm and steady. She clung to him, the world spinning.
Beau had to have been inside when the fire started. He never went anywhere. She tried to picture him hobbling out of the house with his cane but couldn’t.
“Are you the owner of this house?” The fireman’s voice was deep, but still somehow soft.
Kate nodded, her breath coming in gasps. “Yes. Kaitlynn Monroe. My husband has back problems and walks with a cane. He’s usually watching TV in the living room or sleeping in the bedroom.”
The fireman covered her hand where it grasped his coat. She did the same thing when trying to comfort grieving parents.
She should’ve been here to help him. Should’ve insisted she couldn’t stay on shift for an extra four hours. Planets collided in her mind and the rubble would bury her alive.
“Is he okay?” Kate asked, her voice a squeak.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Monroe.” The silver nameplate across his left breast pocket flashed in the moonlight, and she could just make out the word Coleman. “We got him out of the house, but it was already too late. The paramedics couldn’t revive him.”
Kate stumbled. This time Fireman Coleman wasn’t quick enough and she fell to her knees, the blacktop cutting through the thin fabric of her scrubs and sending sharp pains up her legs.
Beau was dead. It was over.
Fireman Coleman crouched next to her and whispered soothing words. She might’ve been on the ground for five seconds or five hours when a police officer walked over. Together, he and Fireman Coleman led her to the back of an ambulance. Kate obediently sat down and someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. A steaming cup of something hot was pressed into her hands.
Dead. Gone. Just like that baby she’d helped deliver five hours ago.
“Is there anyone I can call for you?” Fireman Coleman asked.
Kate looked up, surprised to see him standing just outside the ambulance. Had he been there this entire time? The police officer and paramedic stood nearby as well.
“No,” Kate choked. “There’s no one.” Liza was her only real friend, and she didn’t even know her phone number. Beau had been Kate’s entire life—for better or worse—for six years.
She should’ve been here. She could’ve helped him out of the house, or maybe prevented the fire in the first place. He must’ve fallen asleep with a cigarette in his hand, like she’d warned him against so many times.
The tears fell down her cheeks, hot and heavy. Fireman Coleman rested his hands on his hips, his blue eyes heavy with sympathy. Kate’s shoulders shook as shivering overtook her body. Beau couldn’t be dead. She should ask to see the body, just to make sure. Was he still here, in the back of the other ambulance, or had they taken him to the medical examiner’s office? Surely they’d be required to perform an autopsy.
“She’s in shock,” the paramedic murmured. Another blanket fell around her shoulders.
So this was what shock felt like. She’d be more sympathetic when her next patient experienced it. The frantic shivers jarred Kate’s sore muscles. She closed her eyes tightly, struggling to control the muscle spasms.
“There’s no one who can be with you right now?” Fireman Coleman pressed. “A family member, perhaps? Or a friend?”
“I’m … I’m not sure.” Kate wiped at her cheeks. Her father was in prison, her mother probably dead. She didn’t have any friends outside of the hospital. Beau had isolated her from everyone.
“I’m so sorry,” Fireman Coleman repeated. “I’m so, so sorry.”
It’s over, Kate thought. Beau was gone. Forever. The tears fell, thicker and harder.
Fireman Colman crouched beside her again, murmuring “I’m sorry” like he didn’t know what else to do. His blue eyes glistened in the moonlight, his lips turned down in a sympathetic frown. She wondered what he would say if he knew what the tears were really for. If he understood what emotion tumbled through her body until she shook with the intensity of it.
Relief.
Eighteen Months Later
Kate flipped the flag outside an exam room to green, then headed to the nurse’s station in the center of the pediatrician’s office. She flopped into a chair and woke up her tablet, double checking that her notes had synced for the doctor.
“Behind on your charting again?” Liza teased.
“Always,” Kate said. But she enjoyed the pace of the pediatrician’s office much more than that of the hospital. She’d forever be grateful to Liza for getting her this job.
“The afternoon should be slow,” Liza said. “We aren’t overbooked for once. Might even get out of here on time for once.”
Kate nodded. A year and a half ago, an early day would’ve filled her with dread. But now it meant relaxing on the couch with Chinese takeout and Netflix while ignoring the guilt that nudged her for not missing Beau.
She still wasn’t used to the creaks and groans of her new home. It had taken nearly six months for the insurance companies—both homeowners and life—to verify the police report that confirmed the fire had accidentally started when Beau fell asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand and blood alcohol levels off the charts. Then it had taken another ten months for the old house to be knocked down and a new one built in its place. She’d thought about selling the property and moving elsewhere, but that would’ve meant taking out a loan she couldn’t afford. She still missed the old house and the good memories from her childhood. But the bad ones from her marriage to Beau had weighed on her every day, a dark aura around the place that she hadn’t known how to shake.
Some days she barely thought of Beau. Other times she hated herself for being so much happier with him gone. The last year and a half had felt like sunlight after a long winter, but loneliness had begun to creep in as well. It had taken a lot of courage to admit she wanted another relationship—this time, a healthy one. Without Beau around to cloud her thinking, she’d realiz
e that the warning signs had been there even before his accident. She’d just ignored them.
“So, have you met with that dating agency yet?” Liza asked, almost as though she could read Kate’s thoughts.
Kate tapped her fingernail on the keyboard. “My appointment is later today.” The nerves clawed at her insides, along with the fear that threatened to choke her. Dating meant possibly ending up with another Beau. And given the choice, she’d rather be lonely.
“What’s wrong? I thought you were really excited about it.”
“I am. But I’m nervous, too.” Kate had felt the pull toward another relationship for a few months now, but she couldn’t trust her own judgment when it came to men. Not after her disastrous marriage.
When she’d heard about Toujour, a professional matchmaking agency, it had seemed like the perfect solution. All of Toujour’s clients were carefully vetted. Extensive personal profiles and background checks ensured only those serious about a relationship—and ready for one—became a client. They boasted a high success rate that left her hopeful. One of the receptionists at the clinic had even met her fiancé through the agency.
But now Kate just felt nervous. Guilty. How could she even consider moving on after a mere eighteen months? She’d thought she’d put Beau behind her, but thinking about dating had brought up a lot of her old issues.
“Oh, Kate.” Liza wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I’m sure you miss your husband very much. But he’d want you to move on and be happy.”
Kate knew for a fact that Beau would want—no, expect—the exact opposite. But it had been easier to play the part of a grieving widow than to explain to everyone just how emotionally abusive and manipulative Beau had become.
“Go,” Liza said. “You deserve to be happy.”
Kate blinked back tears. “Okay.”
For the next few hours, Kate administered vaccines to kids, handed out suckers, and calmed nervous parents. But in the back of her mind, she kept thinking about her upcoming appointment with Toujour. Her matchmaker, Brooke, had emailed Kate the initial profile and questionnaire last week. Maybe Brooke would already have a match picked out. Kate’s heart quickened, and she could almost hear Beau yelling at her for not missing him more.
Strike a Match (No Match for Love Book 1) Page 1