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

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Matched Online: Anthology Bks 1-4 (Contemporary Romance) Page 3

by Lacy Williams, Julie Jarnagin, Robin Patchen

"I'm going to talk to him," Drew said. "You mind?"

  She shook her head. She couldn't give Thad his father. Maybe Drew could say something that would help.

  His footsteps crunched in the mulch as he walked away.

  She watched him sit on the ground next to her son. Where had he even come from? He hadn't been at the coffee shop. Maybe he was arriving at work and had seen the altercation from the employee parking lot off to the side of the shop. That would explain how he'd cut across the grass and sidewalk.

  Their voices carried to her.

  "You okay?" Drew asked.

  "Yeah." Thad didn't look at the man beside him, just played with a blade of grass, using it like a tiny sword to hit the other grasses near his leg.

  "You know those guys?"

  Thad nodded.

  "They go to your school?"

  "Yeah."

  "This the first time they've picked on you?"

  A beat.

  And then Thad shook his head slowly.

  She began to tremble. Thad had been bullied, and she hadn't known about it? Had she been too wrapped up in her own problems, the business, this dating thing, to notice?

  "What's their problem?" Drew asked.

  Thad shrugged.

  But Drew waited with just the right amount of patience.

  "They saw me crying in class once before school got out for the summer. And now they keep calling me crybaby." Thad swished the grass sword through the grass with a little more violence now.

  "What happened in class?"

  Thad sighed. "At Christmas, my best friend Jack moved away. All the way to Ohio. Our favorite class together was art, and our teacher always let us be partners. Then after Jack was gone, there was this paper mache project that he would have loved, but I had to have a girl as my partner, and it just made me sad."

  She gripped the swing chains until her knuckles were white. She'd known he missed Jack. The two boys had been inseparable since preschool, but Jack's family had relocated due to a job situation. She'd let Thad video-chat with his friend as often as he wanted. She hadn't realized her son was still so upset about his friend's departure.

  "I'm sorry." Drew didn't try to over-analyze the situation or patronize Thad. He simply reached over and ruffled her boy's hair. "Some guys might thing crying is a baby thing, but I don't."

  Thad looked up at him, and Angela saw the admiration in her son's expression. "Really?"

  Drew's voice was serious and weighted. "Really."

  Thad sniffed and ran his hand beneath his nose again. She was relieved to see that the bleeding had stopped. The blows must not have been that bad. "Maybe I should go talk to my mom."

  Drew nodded. "She's probably going to freak out a little."

  "I know."

  They both stood and brushed dead leaves and grass from their pants.

  She tried really hard not to freak out, but she couldn't help a little sniffle of her own when Thad came to her for a hug.

  Drew was still there as they crossed the street and she loaded Thad into the backseat of her Ford Explorer. She shut the door and turned to the man who'd shown up at just the right moment.

  "Thanks for your help. For making sure he was okay, and..." For talking to him when she couldn't. But the words stuck in her throat. She cleared it. "It's been a rough eighteen months on him. First his dad left, and then Jack moved... So, just...thanks."

  His eyes were intent, and she brushed some of her hair behind her ear. No telling what she looked like. Probably like herself, a windblown, harried working mom doing the best she could.

  But he kept looking. And she started to get uncomfortable. And started rambling. "I probably should've just cancelled the date when my babysitter called to tell me she had a stomach bug. But I thought he'd be fine for a little while in the park—I was watching him."

  He cupped her elbow briefly to stem her words, his presence steady. "Next time your babysitter cancels, call me."

  4

  What are you looking for in a relationship?

  Lionheart: "I'm looking for someone special. I'll know her when I find her."

  This might not have been the best idea.

  Drew was elbow-deep in a sink full of dishes when he heard the garage door at Angela's place kick on.

  He'd offered to babysit Thad for her next date, but he hadn't really thought she'd take him up on it.

  He'd been shocked when she'd called, but since he'd been off from the coffee shop that night, he'd agreed. Thad was a great kid, reminded Drew a lot of his brother Wes as a child, methodical and even-tempered. Drew had been a slob with a quick temper.

  When he'd volunteered for this, he definitely hadn't thought through how messy kids were and the cleanup a couple hours with one would entail. He also hadn't thought about what it would feel like knowing Angela was out with another guy.

  Apparently the date had gone well, because she'd been gone more than two hours. That was a lot of getting to know you.

  And he definitely wasn't jealous. Had no right to be and no business nosing into her life. He just had a stomachache from all the brownies he and Thad had eaten earlier. He'd kept the kid to two, but he’d binged after the boy was in bed, ignoring the judgmental glances from their adolescent golden retriever. He refused to feel guilty because of a dog.

  Her house was like her, open, airy, dressed in warm colors. The kind of home you wanted to return to at the end of the day.

  So where was she?

  On the heels of that thought, she came through the door, head turned back as she closed the garage door. She was sliding her purse off her shoulder when she caught sight of him standing at the sink.

  "What are you doing?"

  He thought it was pretty obvious, but he held up the dishrag and a pot covered in suds, dripping into the sink. "Dishes."

  She set her purse on the far end of the counter, well away from the mess of cocoa and flour spread across the granite. It looked like a brownie mix bomb had gone off in the center of the room. Which it kind of had. The dog had licked up several blobs.

  "I'll get the counters next and sweep real quick before I head out." It wasn't her mess, after all.

  But she looked completely confused. "What happened here? Somebody murder one of my bags of flour?"

  "Something like that. Thad wanted to cook supper, and then of course we had to do something for dessert, so...brownies."

  "I left supper in the fridge. Leftovers."

  He pulled a face to show her what he thought of that. He could've waited to eat until he made it back to Wes's place tonight, but he couldn't let the poor kid suffer like that.

  He hand-dried the pot and set it on the towel he'd put out on the counter, where the rest of the pots and pans and utensils they'd used now rested. He moved to unplug the sink.

  "We have a dishwasher," she said. She was still standing where she'd stopped, like she was in shock or something.

  "Your pots are so fancy, I wasn't sure they could go in there. They're clean now anyway."

  He wiped down the counter.

  She laughed a little, but the sound was desperate. "So you made dinner with my son. And now you're cleaning up." She made it sound like a question, but he didn't get it.

  He shrugged. It wasn't a big deal. "We made the mess. I probably should've made him help, but he was worn out after we played catch in the backyard." For over an hour. Drew was a little worn out himself. His shoulder was aching from all the long bombs Thad had demanded he throw. And they had a huge backyard.

  He was focused on scrubbing off a caked-on spot of batter but heard her mumble, "Not a big deal to clean up after himself."

  Had her husband been one of those losers who insisted that only a woman could do kitchen work?

  "And you're not by any chance a janitor in New York City?"

  He laughed. "No."

  She opened a full-sized pantry door and pulled out a broom. He'd had a good chuckle at her pantry earlier. Everything was organized and in its place, all the lab
els facing forward and every can lined up like little soldiers. Thad wasn't the only methodical one. Drew had itched to move some things around, but he’d controlled himself. Barely.

  "You're very domestic for a bachelor." She didn't look at him as she swept up the crumbs and flour they'd left on the floor. "Why aren't you married?"

  He'd known his marital status might come up, but somehow he could never prepare himself for the hit. He took it, lost his breath at the momentary pain in his gut. "I was."

  She stilled.

  He was aware of her stare but kept his focus on scrubbing away the countertop mess. It seemed like he was getting nowhere. "My wife passed away late last year."

  Saying the words still made him feel as if he were scuba diving and his air had run out. One hundred feet deep and drowning. It still seemed surreal. It couldn't be real, could it? Wasn't he going to wake up from this nightmare and find Jennifer in bed right beside him?

  But he didn't wake up—he never did—and she was still gone. And he still ached, all over, because he'd lost her.

  "I'm so sorry." He heard the soft catch in her voice but couldn't look up, because if she had tears in her eyes, he'd lose it.

  He cleared his throat and kept scrubbing, praying she'd just go back to sweeping the floor. He needed to escape.

  Wes had probably saved his life, asking him to come down for the summer and help with the coffee shop. He'd been drowning, going through the motions of his old life, but without Jennifer, every day was an endless black hole. Learning the job of a barista had given him something to focus on, kept his hands and mind busy.

  Now, he searched for a distraction. Grasped on to the first thing he could think of. "How was the date? Seems like it must've been better than the last couple." Or else it wouldn't have lasted so long.

  "He was very nice."

  He winced. Nice. The death knell.

  "We had a lot to talk about, but I think we both felt like we'd be better friends than anything else."

  He kept her in his peripheral vision. She swept her small pile of debris into the dustpan and then dumped that into the trash canister. He rinsed the rag in the sink.

  He'd squeezed out the extra water and draped it over the center separator in the two sinks. He was turning to tell her goodbye, but she must've been passing behind him to return the broom to its place.

  She stopped short, but they ended up face to face. Too close. With his emotions already in chaos, looking down at her was dangerous. Her eyes were clear and soft, her cheeks slightly flushed.

  She was imminently kissable.

  "There was just no attraction," she breathed. "You know?"

  She was talking about her date, but he couldn't stop staring. The air between them seemed thick and almost humming with anticipation.

  No, he didn't know what it felt like not to be attracted to Angela.

  Her lashes lowered over her expressive eyes, and the moment shattered.

  He stepped back, bumping his side into the counter. The physical pain brought clarity. What was he doing? It was like his brain had switched off.

  He might be attracted to her, but he didn't want to be.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. "I need to go."

  She seemed flustered, her hands fluttering in front of her. "Okay. Yes. Thank you for staying with Thad."

  He wasn't sure if he even nodded in his haste to get out of there.

  Ten minutes later, he sat in his car in front of Wes's place, still too shaken up to go in. His brother was home, the lights were on, and Wes would take one look at him and know something was up.

  How could he explain what was going on when he couldn't even understand it himself?

  How could he be attracted to Angela when he was still so deep in grief over Jennifer's death?

  But it turned out he was wrong about Wes being inside. His brother approached the car from behind and knocked on Drew's window.

  Drew opened the door.

  "Where have you been?" Wes asked.

  "Out. Babysitting," he amended not wanting his brother to get the wrong idea.

  "Funny thing. Cassandra said she'd seen you flirting with one of the single moms that comes into the coffee shop all the time."

  Drew grimaced. "It's not like that."

  "What is it like?"

  Drew closed his eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it." He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, but the ache behind them didn't abate.

  He couldn't be attracted to Angela. He wouldn't allow it.

  "You know, it's okay to move on."

  "It doesn't feel okay!" Drew burst out of the car. He paced several feet away and then whirled back on his brother.

  "It feels like I'm betraying her."

  Wes waited, balancing on the balls of his feet as if he thought Drew might be inclined to throw a punch. That might actually help him release some of his pent-up emotions.

  "She's gone, man," Wes said.

  "It hasn't been that long." Drew ran an agitated hand through his hair.

  Even though it felt like it had been forever.

  Wes shrugged. "The heart wants what it wants. Just because it's only been a few months doesn't mean it's too soon to start falling for someone again.

  "I'm not falling for her," Drew burst out.

  "You keep telling yourself that." Wes slapped Drew on the shoulder and headed toward the house, leaving Drew out in the dark night.

  He looked up at the stars for a long time, but there were no answers there.

  5

  Other than appearance, what is the first thing that people notice about you?

  HubbaBubba3: "My manly smell."

  Lunchtime on Saturday, Angela sat again at one of those small round tables in the coffee shop.‬‬‬‬‬‬

  Her mother had Thad for the weekend. Later this afternoon, Angela would be putting the finishing touches on a wedding cake she'd spent all evening yesterday working on. ‬‬‬‬‬‬

  After she delivered it this evening, she would start on a huge batch of cupcakes for a bridal shower tomorrow afternoon. The work was a good distraction, but her date was late, and it was hard to keep her mind focused on that and not on the man behind the counter.‬

  She'd gone five days without seeing Drew. She hadn't wanted to make things awkward for him, and action on her online profile was slow until today's date had messaged her.‬‬‬‬‬‬

  She couldn't stop thinking about those moments in her kitchen when she’d thought Drew might kiss her.‬‬‬‬‬‬

  She would've kissed him back if he'd done it. She was attracted to him. She’d thought he was attracted to her, but now that she knew about his late wife, she wasn’t so sure. ‬‬‬

  All those tiny things she'd seen suddenly started to make sense. When she'd talked about missing a partner, having someone to do little things with, he’d ducked behind the bar. She’d thought he was working or maybe just barely listening to her. But had he been hiding his upsetting emotions? On the night of the almost-kiss, she'd seen his feelings, even though he hadn't looked at her directly. They’d been there in the ticking muscle in his jaw, the set of his shoulders, and his jerky motions. He was still deeply grieving for his wife, that much was obvious.‬‬‬‬‬‬

  She didn't know what to do with that, how to be friends with someone that she was so attracted to but who was so hung up on someone who’d passed away. And who could blame him? It had only been a few months. The best thing she could do would probably be to leave Drew alone. ‬‬‬‬‬‬

  But she couldn't stop being aware of him as he moved around behind the bar. When she'd entered the shop, he'd been chatting with an older gentleman. He'd glanced up at her, but by the time, she'd waited through two customer's coffee orders, he'd ducked through the kitchen door and left another barista to take her order.

  Maybe it was just a coincidence. He was at work. She couldn't expect him to cater only to her if there was work to be done.

  She hoped that was all it was
. Hoped they could still be friends. She could temper her expectations—what expectations? She knew he was leaving in a few weeks. They could remain friends.

  She glanced at her watch one more time. Daniel was a half hour late for the date. That was as good as three strikes in her book.

  She stood to leave.

  She'd been so caught up in her thoughts of Drew that she hadn't noticed what was going on outside the windows. On the sidewalk, a camera crew with three cameramen and a fourth guy holding a boom mike, was headed toward the door of the coffee shop. A moment later, they bustled inside, following a guy about her age.

  One camera remained on the guy they were obviously taping, and two others panned the interior of the shop. Behind the boom mike guy, a woman entered wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard.

  What was this, a reality show? In Ross, Oklahoma? They had to be kidding.

  To her horror, Mr. Reality TV star looked around the room until his gaze settled on her.

  "Oh no," she whispered. She looked around frantically for a place to hide, but there wasn't even an emergency exit she could duck through without passing the cameras.

  Mr. Reality TV approached, a fake, smarmy smile spreading across his face. "Angie? You look just like your picture."

  Two of the cameras swung her direction, and a bright light had her squinting.

  She held both hands in front of her face. "I don't want to be on camera."

  There was enough space between her fingers for Angela to see the lady with the clipboard. "Cut! We'll start back outside again."

  The camera guys lowered their devices and started backing away.

  "Aw, Angie,” Daniel whined, “what was that?"

  "My name is Angela," she said, lowering her hands. "And what exactly was that?" She waved at the people trooping out the door.

  The woman with the clipboard hustled her way up to the two of them. "Hi, there! I'm Juliet." She stuck out her hand, but Angela just stared at her. Seriously?

  She pinched herself, but she didn't wake up from this nightmare.

  "So we were hoping for a really great, authentic first-time meeting with you, but that's okay! Give me five minutes to get the cameras set up again, and we'll do a second take. You'll need to act surprised, as if you haven't met Daniel before—"

 

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