Matched Online: Anthology Bks 1-4 (Contemporary Romance)

by Lacy Williams, Julie Jarnagin, Robin Patchen

  "Thad!" she chided half-laughing, half in horror. He was such a boy!

  They picked up their trash, and she took the remainder of her coffee with her.

  She couldn't help sending one last look to the handsome barista. He was waiting on a customer, but his eyes lifted and met hers briefly before the door closed behind her.

  2

  What are you most passionate about?

  ThursDave: "Mature chicks."

  Saturday night, Drew Scheffield grabbed a medium-sized round tray from behind the counter and made a slow circuit around the coffeehouse, picking up trash and plates that had been discarded or set aside.

  It was humid, packed with bodies, thanks to his brother's genius marketing idea to do a superhero night. Their customers were a mix of families and singles, conversing about DC, Marvel, and everything else superhero. Some people had even come in costume. Who knew Ross, Oklahoma, would support this kind of nightlife?

  Drew could've done without the leather-covered Catwoman who kept shooting him not-so-covert glances.

  He couldn't help his awareness of Angela Hudson. He'd known the moment she walked in. She was now ensconced at one of the corner round tables across from a good looking, slightly younger guy in a superman outfit. Tights, gelled hair and all. People kept tripping on the guy’s cape.

  But that wasn't the reason Drew wanted to get rid of the guy. It was because Angela kept leaning toward him, her entire focus on him, those caramel-colored, endless eyes, absorbed in rapt attention. Her chestnut hair, a match for her son’s, kept falling over her shoulder, and Drew was mesmerized by the way she pushed it behind her ear.

  Drew had no reason for the jealousy that swept through him. He didn't even know Angela. And he really didn't need a complication in his life. He was leaving in six weeks, heading back to NYC and the life he'd put on hold there. He'd only meant to be gone for the summer, but now summer had turned to fall.

  He needed the extra weeks to catch his breath. Find his footing. He did not need a distraction.

  But there was no stopping the way his heart leapt when Angela had walked in the door tonight, the way every hair on the back of his neck stood to attention when he passed by her chair on his route back to the tiny kitchen behind the bar. He ducked through the door.

  He really didn't need this. Wasn't looking for any kind of relationship, not after what had happened with Jennifer.

  He disposed of the trash and deposited the dirty plates in the huge industrial sink. Man, he wasn't getting out of here until the wee hours with that many dishes waiting on him after closing. When he returned to the front, the crowd had finally begun to thin, and for once, the line of customers had dwindled to zero.

  And Angela's date had disappeared.

  Drew’s brother Wes was a penny-pincher and had given explicit instructions, so Drew let the second barista go home. Drew would do the closing and be back here far too early tomorrow morning.

  It might have felt like Wes was taking advantage of him if Drew hadn't asked for the hours. Knocking around in Wes's large farmhouse outside of town left too much room for thinking. Thinking led to remembering, remembering led to grief.

  Drew would rather work, even though he'd left NYC to take a break from his high-intensity job on Wall Street.

  He pulled a double shot espresso. Wiped down the counter again. People continued to filter out of the shop.

  Angela approached and took a seat at one of the four bar stools that lined the counter.

  He told himself to stay away, but his feet carried him the short distance anyway. "Need anything?"

  She looked up, and he instantly saw the exhaustion he'd missed when he'd passed her earlier. Tiny lines fanned from her eyes, and her smile seemed fragile. She swept her hair behind her ear.

  "How about a cup of hot tea?" she asked.

  He rummaged behind the counter and then handed her the basket of tea bags to look through while he filled a mug with steaming water.

  He told himself to set it on the counter and go back to cleaning up but instead found himself leaning on his elbows, much too close.

  "Superman didn't do it for you?" Maybe it was cruel to bring it up, but this was the second date he'd seen end prematurely. Maybe she had really high standards.

  She winced. "Did you see how young he was? He might've still been in college. He definitely lied about his age on his profile."

  That stopped Drew short. "Wait a minute. You're online dating?"

  She glared at him and wrinkled her nose and looked so adorable that he had to swallow hard.

  "Don't judge," she said. "A couple of friends and I made this pact to find our special someones online before our ten-year high school reunion next spring. Did you go to yours?"

  The memory of Jennifer in the red cocktail dress hit him, and it was a moment before he could clear his throat. "Yeah, I went."

  She noticed. Her head tilted slightly, and there was just enough of a pause to make him think she was going to give in to her curiosity and ask about his reaction. But she didn't.

  "Yeah, so... I was the girl voted most likely to succeed."

  He grinned. He could see that. "Homecoming queen?"

  She blushed.

  That was interesting. She'd brought up the high school reunion. He couldn't help but wonder if she was one of those people who considered the "good ol’ days" the best of their lives.

  "Life didn't turn out like I thought it would. In a lot of ways." She said the words to the countertop, rubbing at a water-stained spot with one index finger.

  "I'd guess every person in your graduating class feels the same way," he said. "Nothing to be ashamed of if you don't have a date."

  Her chin lifted. Stubborn. "Oh, I'll have a date. There can't be that many yahoos in the online dating scene, can there?"

  She winced again. "That felt like I jinxed it."

  "Somebody like you isn't going to have any issues finding a date." And that sounded like flirting. Just what he did not need to be doing.

  The man in a Wolverine T-shirt next to her got up and left, giving Drew a chance to pick up the trash there and wipe down that spot. He focused on the empty spot instead of on her.

  "Yes, because single moms are all the rage," she said.

  It was a huge target, an invitation that made him want to reply that he liked single moms just fine, but he clamped his lips shut. A two-a-day patron shouted a goodbye before pushing through the door and gave him a reprieve.

  She fiddled with the handle of her tea mug. "Plus, I'd...well, I'd like to find more than just a date."

  He knew what she was going to say before the words emerged.

  "I miss being half of a pair. Having someone to tag-team with when Thad has soccer practice and the pantry is empty and I need to go to the store. Having adult conversation at the supper table."

  Lying in bed late at night, whispering about their day. Lazy Saturday morning breakfasts. Listening to her sing while she cleaned house. She couldn't carry a tune to save her life.

  A visceral pang of longing and grief hit him square in the solar plexus, and he hurriedly bent behind the counter to hide suddenly wet eyes. He knocked around several glasses, hoping the sound of their clinking together would make her think he was sorting down here and not hiding.

  He knew it was impossible, but he wanted Jennifer back. Her death hadn't been sudden, but it had still left a gaping hole inside of him. His chest felt tight, but he couldn't afford a panic attack, not having sent home the other barista and with several customers still loitering. Not to mention Angela.

  He counted slowly to ten, focusing on slowing his breathing and the staccato beat of his heart. It didn't work, not really, but he couldn't stay down here any longer.

  He straightened, forcing a smile that he was sure she could see through. She saw too much.

  Sure enough, her eyes searched his face before she looked down at her cup, fiddling with the handle again.

  "I'm sure that's TMI about me," she said. "
What about you? How soon do you go back to New York and your career as a music teacher?"

  Her words were a distraction he sorely needed, and he was able to make his smile more genuine. "Another six weeks. And I'm not a music teacher. What is it about me that makes you think I'm musical?"

  She tilted her head to one side, a lock of hair falling in her eyes. She flicked it away impatiently. "I don't know." Her eyes lingered on his arms, his tats. Was that it? But then she glanced up at his hair, his face.

  He found himself warming under her frank perusal.

  "Maybe it's how you look. Not musical, huh?"

  "Not a bone in my entire body." Jennifer hadn't been the only one who couldn't carry a tune.

  "You could just tell me what you do."

  He moved to end of the counter. "And ruin my air of mystique?" He knew she could easily ask Wes when his twin was in the shop, but for whatever reason, he liked this game.

  She took a last swig of her tea and stood. "I guess I should go. My babysitter is going to turn back into a pumpkin."

  "Same time next week?" he asked. He didn't know why, hadn't meant for the words to pop out. Her dating schedule was her own business.

  "Probably. I've still got a few lines in the water." And one of these times she was going to reel in a winner who saw what a jewel she was. Drew knew it was only a matter of time.

  "Good luck," he offered as she headed for the door.

  "Thanks," she called back. "I'm sure I'll need it."

  3

  What are five things you can't live without?

  Tarzan3.0: "Motocross, ESPN, puppies, my favorite sweatshirt, my mom's home cooking."

  On Saturday, midmorning sun slanted across the parking lot and glared off windshields. Angela sat inside the coffee shop at a table next to the window, so she could see Thad where she'd left him at the small city park across the street. She shivered, even with a sweater on, because even though it was a cool autumn morning, the shop was still running its A/C. Her mouth watered from the scents of someone's crisp apple pastry.

  She wouldn't have brought Thad along, but her babysitter had cancelled, and Angela had been looking forward to this date. At the park, he wasn't really unsupervised, because she was watching. He was seven, plenty big enough to play by himself for half an hour or so.

  She refused to be disappointed that Drew wasn't on shift this morning. She was here to see Jimmy.

  Although, who called himself Jimmy, instead of James or Jim? It seemed like a childhood nickname that you'd leave behind.

  The man who slid into the booth across from her was definitely not a kid. Broad shoulders and a great physique were the first things she noticed. He wasn't bad looking, with pleasant features, clear blue eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken before.

  "Hey," he said, with a wide, easy smile.

  "Hi. I'm Angela." She stuck her hand over the table, and they shook. His touch was just right—not too girly and not too hard of a squeeze.

  His smile widened. "Jimmy." He had straight, white teeth. Probably he'd worn braces.

  He definitely smiled more than Drew. And why was she thinking about Drew again?

  "Thanks for meeting me so early," he said. "I just got off a twenty-four-hour shift at the fire department, and I usually go home and crash. I would've hated to have to wait until my next four-day break to meet you."

  Well, that was charming.

  With Jimmy sitting where he was, she could see past his shoulder to where Thad was playing and still appear to be attentive. Right now Thad was standing on the top level of the huge wooden fort. Looked like he might be about to slide.

  "I saw on your profile you work at a bakery?” Jimmy said.

  "I actually own the business. I have two industrial ovens in my kitchen, and work from home."

  "Awesome. So you get to set your own schedule and stuff."

  Yes. But that meant she had a hard time turning it off. Every time she walked through the kitchen, she was reminded of the upcoming bills and worried about whether she had enough jobs for the month. She'd had two referrals last month, which meant she'd been able to pay the mortgage and an overdue water bill and breathe a little.

  Over Jimmy's shoulder, she saw two other boys approach Thad, who'd raced to the bottom of the slide. One of them got in Thad's face, rousing her protective instincts.

  Jimmy was still talking. "—favorite thing to bake? I'm partial to—"

  "I'm sorry," she interrupted, coming out of her seat as the second boy closed in and the first one shoved Thad. "My son…"

  She was out the door before the words were out.

  "Son?" Jimmy's voice cut off as the door closed behind her.

  She ran out in the street without looking. There was no traffic, thank God. The three boys were in an all-out tussle now, Thad on the bottom. She wanted to shout, but her voice seemed to stick in her throat. Were her feet even moving? She felt as if she were running through a thick pound cake batter.

  And then, as she finally crossed over the curb into the grass, help arrived in the form of a tall, imposing figure cutting across the sidewalk. With a recognizable tattoo on his arm.

  "Hey!" Drew shouted. His dark boots kicked up wood chips as he approached the trio of boys at a jog.

  The two other boys looked up and then ran off, leaving Thad prone on the ground.

  "Thad!" Her gasp brought her boy's head turning toward her.

  She and Drew reached him at the same time. Thad sat up with a groan.

  "Hey, man," Drew greeted softly. "Take it easy, why don'cha?"

  She wasn't so laid back, especially when she saw the trickle of blood beneath Thad's nose. "Baby, what happened?" She reached for her son, but Thad scooted back, hands digging into the wood chips as he scrabbled away.

  "Leave me alone!" He stood up, wiping one hand beneath his nose. It came away bloody.

  "Thad!" She reached for him again, but he turned and ran.

  She started to follow, but Drew grabbed her arm. "Give him a second to cool off."

  She yanked out of his grasp. "Are you a parent?" she demanded. She knew it was rude, but her emotions were flying high, and that was her baby!

  Something passed behind his eyes. "No, but I've been a boy. Look"—Drew pointed—"he's sitting beneath that tree right over there. He didn't run off."

  She had to lean down to see below the fort's structure. Looking through the opening, she could see Thad hunched in a miserable ball at the base of a gnarled old oak that shaded the park during the summer.

  "He's okay," Drew said.

  "How do you know?" There was her demanding, worried Mama-bear voice again. "His nose was bleeding—"

  "It was already drying up."

  "He might have broken ribs, I think they were punching him—"

  "He doesn't have broken ribs."

  "And what if he gets a punctured lung or something?"

  Drew leveled a look at her. She might've exaggerated with that last one, but she was near tears.

  "He's fine," Drew said.

  "Uh, Angela—?"

  At the unexpected voice, she whirled around. Jimmy stood on the curb, his expression closed. A complete one-eighty from how he'd appeared in the coffee shop earlier.

  She'd completely forgotten about him, about their date.

  With a glance at Thad—she couldn't look at Drew right now—she walked the few steps over to her date.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. The movement showed off his nice biceps, but he wasn't looking her in the eye anymore. "I, uh... didn't realize you had a kid."

  "What?" She hadn't meant to blurt the thought aloud. Her mind was spinning with worries for her son, and she was having a hard time registering the meaning behind Jimmy's comment. "It was on my profile. Right at the top." She'd made sure it was, so potential dates would know she was a single mom.

  "Look, it's a deal-breaker for me. No kids. I'm really sorry."

  She knew her mouth was hanging open.

  He had the grac
e to look sheepish.

  She couldn't deal with him or his no kids philosophy right now. Her son needed her. "Thanks for letting me know." She knew the words were sharp—she felt jagged and broken inside right now, so that’s what came out.

  He nodded and turned away.

  Drew was still there when she turned around. His face revealed nothing, though she knew he had to have heard that entire conversation with Jimmy.

  She tried to pretend he wasn't there, started to march right past him to get to Thad.

  But Drew caught her arm again.

  A wave of exhaustion and emotion rocked her, and this time she didn't have the strength to pull away.

  "Just give him a minute," Drew said. He nudged her toward one of the swings that hung beneath a branch of the fort.

  Her knees had started trembling, and she sank into the seat. It pinched her rear and thighs—made for kids, not adults—but the chains gave her something to hold onto, and she clung.

  A hot knot clogged her throat. She tried to clear it away. "Two years ago, he wouldn't have run away from me." Tears blurred her vision, and she let go of one of the chains to press her thumb and forefinger into her closed eyes. Maybe that would stem the tide.

  Two years ago, she and Thad's father had still been together. Her son had been a brand-new, bright-eyed kindergartener, and he'd run to her with every little problem, every skinned knee, every paper cut. Now he ran away.

  She'd failed her marriage, and now she was failing Thad.

  With only one hand steadying her, and her eyes closed, she wobbled on the swing. Drew clasped her shoulder. Steadied her.

  "You won't always be able to fight his battles for him," Drew said in low tones. "Besides, those two punks are hanging out in front of the drugstore across the street and watching him to see what happens. You don't want to give him a rep as a mama's boy."

  She didn't?

  Somehow, Drew's presence helped. She took a deep breath, then another, and finally was able to open her eyes without shedding the tears. She'd keep them bottled until late tonight and give them to her pillow then, when Thad was asleep.