Perfectly Matched: ...And the Rest of the Matchmaking Chef Books

by Maddie James

  “Yes?”

  “Well…” She paused.

  “Well?”

  “Jim, I’ll just be blunt. I need a man.”

  Jim just about swallowed his tongue.

  ****

  “I mean, I need a man’s help!”

  Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! Blundering forward, she rushed out, “I need someone tall to help me put some decorations up in the gym, Christmas stuff, you know? On the basketball backboards and goals. Will you be here any next week?”

  Trying very hard not to be embarrassed at her idiotic choice of words, Patti shut her mouth and breathed deep. Still, heat flooded to her neck and ricocheted up to her cheeks. Jim was an all right guy—a really nice guy, as a matter of fact—and he could usually rib and joke around with the best of them. But the look on his face right now was what was making her extremely uncomfortable.

  His face was red!

  And he shifted in his seat as if suddenly uncomfortable. Finally, he reached up and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

  Oh, and he’d been rubbing his temples, too, when she’d rushed in.

  “Long day, huh?”

  “Long week.”

  “You okay?”

  “Oh, just tired.”

  So was she. At the moment, though, she had this incredible urge to slip behind his chair and rub his temples for him. Where did that come from? Bad, bad idea. “Headache?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Nothing that caffeine and an aspirin won’t cure. Too busy today for much coffee, I think.”

  Patti reached into her purse, fished around a bit, and then came up with a small bottle of aspirin. “Here you go.” She rose, leaned over his desk, picked up a bottle of water sitting on the corner of his desk, and handed him the aspirin. As the bottle descended into his outstretched palm, his brown eyes lifted to meet hers and held for a mite second too long.

  She’d never realized his eyes had little gold flecks in them before. That was kind of cool.

  Her fingertips grazed his palm, sending a slight tingle up her wrist, which she instantly acknowledged as something new and different, which also caused her to jerk her hand back suddenly and stand straight up.

  “Hey, I’m heading home. I’ll be in here on Monday to get ready for the carnival. Maybe you can help me then.”

  He snatched his palm closed over the aspirin bottle, rose and agreed. “Good idea. Let’s both get out of here. And you’re right; this can all wait until Monday. I’ll help you then.”

  It felt like he was in a damned hurry to get out of there, and Patti, not wanting to be in his way or to delay him any further or add to the modicum of confusion that seemed to surround this entire conversation, said, “Sounds good. See you then.”

  So she turned and left, heading back toward her empty classroom, and then subsequently, to her lonely apartment.

  Being a singleton was a bitch.

  Chapter Two

  On Saturday morning Patti woke with a cloud of dread hanging over her. In a weak moment the night before, she’d called Suzie Matthews and asked if she could come by today. Of course Suzie insisted she come for breakfast—because she was cooking anyway, the B&B was full—and why didn’t she just come over early and keep Suzie company while she cooked? She thought Patti might like to sample her new cinnamon candy coffee brew she’d created especially for Christmas. And since she was sampling the coffee, she might as well give her an opinion on the Christmas coffee cake she’d recently concocted that was made with oranges, dried cranberries, and pecans.

  Since she was there anyway.

  So Patti had agreed and thought it might be a good idea to do this, but now, at six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, the first day of her winter break, she wasn’t so sure.

  Trying to find a husband online was one thing—she could control everything, from her shopping around, reading profiles, and picking who to talk to. But giving up that control to another person, to pick someone for her and try to make a match, was a little unnerving.

  Groaning, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She thought about what Kate had said yesterday. Even though she could control it, the online thing wasn’t working. Maybe Suzie could help her. She had her doubts, but….

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that she had been so damned lonely the night before and that, for some strange reason, her mind kept drifting to Jim and his weirdly sexy, upturned gaze at her earlier, she might not even have called.

  But she had.

  And she supposed she had to show up there this morning. You know, the recipes and all.

  And if she let herself admit, even a little, that she might want to hire Suzie, it could frighten the bejesus out of her.

  She’d just go and sample the goods. I mean, it wasn’t every day you got to sit in a famous chef’s kitchen while she was cooking, was it? If she just happened to forget why she was there, it wouldn’t matter, would it?

  All right.

  Swinging her legs over the bed, Patti glanced about her room. Suddenly it hit her that maybe her entire life needed an overhaul. Her apartment was decorated practically the same as it was when she had moved in right after college. That was ten years ago. If she ever expected to bring another man into this room, she needed to do some redecorating.

  And pronto.

  Okay, so she had a lot to do today, and this week. See Suzie, shop for new bedroom stuff, and see that the Winter Carnival went off without a hitch on Wednesday.

  Crap. Only five days to pull it off.

  Looked like her vacation was pretty much planned.

  ****

  Jim stepped up to the counter at Sydney’s Sugar High Coffee Stop and Bakery. “Hey Syd.” He greeted the owner.

  “The regular, Jim?”

  “Naw.” He looked over the chalkboard behind her head. “I’m feeling like splurging today. I’ll try one of those scones with the red candies, along with my regular cup of coffee.”

  Sydney whistled. “Whoa, Jim! Going a little wild on me, huh?” She reached into the bakery case with a piece of wax paper. “Those Red Hot scones will set you on fire. I have to warn you that there is a little cayenne pepper mixed in that white chocolate frosting. You might need to be hosed off later.”

  He didn’t want to think about being hosed off, although he probably needed it. He’d had erotic dreams all night long about Patti.

  Dammit.

  He had to get her off his mind.

  “I’ve heard those things are lethal.” Jim glanced to his left, where Mike Lehmann, the husband of one of his teacher’s, Kate, leaned in. “Seriously, get a milk chaser. They’re great, but you need something to cut the heat, and the coffee only makes it worse. I swear I think she snuck a little Tabasco in there.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Jim turned to Sydney. “Give me two.”

  She arched a brow and shrugged, then reached in for another.

  Mike chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

  Jim eyed him. “It’s about the only spicy thing I’m going to get around here, I think. Might as well tie it on with the scones.”

  Sydney broke in and handed Jim his bag of scones and coffee.

  Mike laughed. “You in a hurry? I thought I’d have my coffee here.”

  “Last thing I want for the next couple of weeks is to be in a hurry.” He motioned toward a table. They sat. Reaching into the bag and pulling out one scone after another, he added, “Here, eat one of these things. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Mike chuckled as both men laid their wax paper encased scones on the table. “So Jim, how is your love life lately?”

  Having just taken a bite of the scone, Jim choked a little, then chewed and swallowed.

  “No love life, Mike. Hence the Red Hot scone. And I’m about to jump out of my skin.”

  Mike leaned forward. “You mean sex?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose. Yeah. Maybe. It’s been a while.”

  He sat back. “Wow, man, that’s
not cool.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Got your eye on anyone?”

  Jim’s mind flashed to Patti, and then he immediately dismissed the thought. “Do you realize how difficult it is to date in this town? Especially being the elementary principal? One-night stands are out. Casual dating is out. Dating the mom of one of my students is out. Dating anyone on my staff is out, and since there are a lot of kids and moms out there, and the elementary school employs a lot of women in this town, that’s a lot of outs.”

  Mike stared at him. “I see your dilemma. Maybe you should try out of town.”

  “Like where, Pigeon Forge? Gatlinburg?”

  “Or Knoxville.”

  “So, Mike, tell me how I do that? Hang around in bars, sign up for those cheesy Internet dating sites? Sorry, not for me. Besides, can you imagine the tongue-wagging should someone stumble over my picture on one of those sites? My reputation would be ruined.”

  “Sounds like a rock and a hard place, Jim.”

  “Meanwhile, I eat Red Hot scones.” He took another bite.

  “Sorry about your luck, man.”

  Yeah. So was he.

  ****

  Suzie’s kitchen smelled awesome. The cinnamon candy coffee was a very nice surprise.

  And the Christmas coffee cake? Well, the word that came to mind was superb. Absolutely phenomenal. Patti licked her fingers to get every last crumb, morsel, and drip of candy-tinted powdered sugar glaze. She was making a little piggy out of herself.

  “So, how are things coming for the carnival?”

  Groaning inwardly, Patti closed her eyes. “Ugh. It’s coming, but I’m so not in the mood to head it up this year. Seems like every year I have to outdo myself.”

  Suzie laughed. “You need to get over that.”

  She did, and she knew it. Thing was, she was such a damned competitor, even with herself.

  She spied another half-slice of the crumb cake on the plate. Brad was gone, the guests had all eaten, and Suzie was tidying up the kitchen. “Mind if I have that last half-slice?” She shouldn’t, she knew, thinking about that slinky, little black dress, she’d been eyeing for New Year’s Eve.

  That is, if she had a date for New Year’s Eve.

  Suzie glanced up from where she was arranging some fruit in a bowl. “Go for it. You liked the cake? I wasn’t sure what the guests thought. No one said a word. I need your honest feedback, Patti.”

  The chef stood and looked at her while she moved the last slice to her mouth. “I wouldn’t have asked for the rest if I hadn’t liked it!” She took a bite. “Um, yes. Very nice.” She chewed and savored. Suzie Matthews really did know how to bake. Her mouth still semi-full, she added, “You don’t see any left, do you?”

  “No, but I was thinking maybe I’d try it one more time with cream cheese frosting.”

  Patti swallowed. “Oh, Suzie…” She licked her lips. “That would be to die for.” Cream cheese on anything was a plus.

  “But at the moment, I don’t think you are here to talk about frosting.”

  Patti blinked. “Huh?”

  Suzie rounded the counter and sat next to Patti at the kitchen island. She squared her body, facing her, set her jaw, and stared straight into Patti’s eyes. “Okay, out with it. I need your list of preferences, your dos and don’ts, the timeframe we’re working in, and your expectations. Are you looking for someone to date once in a while, or are you looking for happily-ever-after, because I’m here to tell you, I’m better at the latter. The casual thing is not my specialty, and right now I’m batting a thousand. I don’t plan to screw up my average.”

  Patti could only stare back. Then she gulped. “Um.”

  Suzie leaned forward and grasped Patti’s hands. The penetrating look she gave her was cause for concern. This woman was intense. “Wow, you’re serious about this stuff, aren’t you? I thought it was all sort of a myth.”

  Suzie scooted closer. “I’m good, Patti. If it’s a man you want, it’s a man I will find for you.”

  She straightened and dropped Patti’s hands, placing her own hands on her thighs. “I don’t mess around, I will find you a husband, but I have to know your wants, desires, and, like I said, your timeframe.”

  “New Year’s Eve,” she blurted out.

  Suzie’s brows crossed. “Impossible. That’s two weeks away.”

  Suddenly Patti was a bit flustered. Would Suzie not take the job? “I mean, I’d like a date for New Year’s Eve. I don’t need a proposal by then. I mean, like, that would be ridiculous.”

  Suzie placed a finger at the side of her cheek. “Not necessarily impossible. I did get Mary Lou Picketts hooked up in about the same amount of time. But I need more info before I can determine, so spill.”

  Shit. Was she really doing this? She was.

  “What was it you needed again?”

  “Preferences, likes and dislikes, dos and don’ts, expectations, timeframe. Well, I guess we have that last one already.”

  Patti nodded. Taking in a breath, she jumped in. “He can’t be from around here, Suzie. Needs to live somewhere besides Legend. There are absolutely no possibilities here. He needs to be larger-than-life, not necessarily drop-dead gorgeous, but attractive. Attentive…yes, he needs to pay attention to me. He needs to be able to take my quirkiness too. I mean sometimes I can be a pain. And I talk too much.”

  Suzie nodded.

  “Hair?”

  Patti shrugged. “He just needs to have some. I don’t care what color.”

  “Are you partial to eye color?”

  “Nope.”

  “Physical build?”

  “Average is good.”

  “You’re not picky.”

  “Well, maybe not about appearance. Just as long as he’s not sloppy.”

  Suzie pondered that. “So there are other things you must have?”

  “Employed. He has to have a job. Can’t be needy, must be independent, can take care of himself. Oh, and I would prefer someone who doesn’t have his mother attached to his hip.”

  “Anything else?”

  Patti thought for a moment. “Sex.”

  Suzie’s brow arched. “Yes?”

  “There has to be tons of sexual attraction. I mean, tons, Suzie. You know what I mean?”

  Her friend’s lip curled up into a smile. “That I do.” She rose then and went to her desk.

  “I’ve got my work cut out for me.” She penciled some things into her calendar, then turned back to look Patti square in the eyes. “From this moment on, you belong to me, you understand? I mean, I know you have things to do, but you’ll be at my whim, so be ready. If an opportunity presents itself, I want you to be poised.” She stepped back and took a good long look at Patti, from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. She then turned back to the desk, wrote some more things down, ripped a piece of paper off the pad, and handed it to Patti. “Do these things ASAP,” she told her.

  Patti glanced down at the list. It read:

  • Get hair done a shade lighter. Light trim.

  • Manicure. French tips.

  • Pedicure.

  • Facial.

  • Buy a little black dress.

  She glanced back up at Suzie. “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  Suzie added, “And get some new makeup. Maybe a few new casual outfits, too. Head out this afternoon and take care of this list, then meet me back here at eight this evening. At that time, we will take stock of where we are and plot our next steps. See you then.”

  With that, Suzie dismissed her, turning back to her desk and scribbling more things down in her planner. Patti let herself out, a half-excited twitter in her tummy, and a half-dread fissure of fear working down her backbone.

  What in the hell had she just gotten herself into?

  Chapter Three

  Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, was the Mecca of outlet shopping in this neck of the woods, so where else would Patti set off to on a Saturday afternoon? And the pickin’s, if you wanted to cal
l them that, were mighty good. She’d scored on a great pair of red heels that would set off that little black dress she’d finally broke down and bought like it was nobody’s business. Two new pairs of jeans, a couple of nice-fitting clingy sweaters, another splurge on a pair of Tony Lama cowboy boots—black with red stitching—and some new lacy underthings that rounded out the casual clothes that Suzie had requested.

  Of course, she added the lacy underthings on her own. She also purchased or treated herself to:

  • Both pedicure and manicure.

  • Hair trimmed and lightened, with both low- and high-lights.

  • A facial, followed by a free makeup makeover.

  • The new makeup.

  • And just for kicks, a full body massage.

  Time to pamper and to get serious.

  The last thing she’d done was shop for new sheets, pillowcases, and comforter. She might not have time to totally redo the bedroom, but she could at least redo the bedding. At the very least, that would make her feel special.

  So, she was set, she guessed.

  Juggling the bags of bedding, the dress on the hanger, the shoe boxes, and assorted other bags of clothes and makeup, Patti headed for her car. The time was barely after three o’clock in the afternoon, so that gave her a good four-ish hours to get home, take stock of her loot, and head over to Suzie’s.

  She had a bit of a walk to her car and wondered why she hadn’t dropped some of this stuff off earlier. Rounding a corner, the toe of her winter boot caught on an uneven sidewalk and she pitched to her left, stumbled, and started a slow fall forward.

  Packages tumbled. A bag ripped. One foot tripped over the other. And there was nothing Patti could do about any of it.

  At once, a firm grip grasped her upper arm and she was suddenly righted again, even though all her packages kept going.

  “Oh!”

  “Patti?”

  “Jim?”

  “What in the world?”

  “I didn’t see…”

  “Here, let me help.”

  Before she realized it, the flurry of activity that crossed her gaze was halted, she was up righted, and Jim Hamilton was crouching before her, picking up and retrieving all of her packages.