Make Me a Match

by Melinda Curtis

  * * *

  THE BAR WAS crowded that night, filled with more people than Nora had seen there before. She shared her booth with Tatiana, Mary Jo and a woman named Shawntelle, wishing this wasn’t her last night in K-Bay.

  “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your baby.” Shawntelle stared at Zoe and sighed heavily. “She’s beautiful.”

  “It was the shaving that did it for me,” Tatiana said. “Have you seen Mike’s cheekbones? I haven’t seen them since high school.”

  “Wow. Simply...wow,” Mary Jo said. “The men shave at all different times come spring, but we don’t get the full effect since they all go out hunting as soon as the snow melts.”

  Nadine stopped at their table. She was dressed in tight jeans, a low-cut blouse and a fresh pair of false eyelashes. “Are you going to write a book, Nora?”

  “About what?”

  “How to train your man.” Nadine turned on a heavily lipsticked, in-case-a-man-is-looking smile. “You did a great job with Coop. It gives the rest of us hope.”

  The women at the table nodded.

  “Coop isn’t mine.” But how Nora wished he could be. If he changed and became someone else, someone more stable. Someone she could trust not to gamble away his paycheck or his heart.

  Nadine kept flapping her cranberry-coated lips. “Coop changed Zoe’s diaper right there in the Shop and Sack. Darryl didn’t think he could do it.”

  For one brief, shining moment, Nora was proud of Coop. Zoe’s poopy pants weren’t to be dealt with lightly.

  “I was there.” Shawntelle joined in the storytelling. “Coop changed that diaper all by himself. On a dare.”

  That feeling of pride dissolved. The disappointment returned.

  A dare. She should have known.

  “Coop said I had to shave my legs, too, if I was coming here tonight.” Shawntelle gazed at Zoe once more. “I had to buy a new razor.”

  Another woman came to stand next to Nadine. “Coop and Gideon came into the sporting-goods store today. Your baby charmed Nathaniel into shaving his beard, too.” She sighed like a lovesick teenager. There seemed to be a lot of that going around. “I’d forgotten Nathaniel had dimples.”

  Every pair of female eyes at the table sought out Nathaniel’s dimples.

  “Mike’s been busy.” Tatiana couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the barber. “Do you know? He didn’t mind that I was sharp with him the morning of the ATV social. He said I have strength of character. He said I’d make a good mom.” Her longing gaze turned to Zoe.

  Coop had used their daughter as bait to draw in customers. Customers he wasn’t serious about keeping. Matchmaking was just another amusement to him. A gamble. A dare.

  She was no longer disappointed. Hurt and anger rippled through her veins.

  Nora excused herself from the women shot by Cupid’s arrow and carried Zoe to Coop. “I need to talk to you.” She could barely contain herself until they got to the back corner of the bar nearest Coach, Gideon and Ty. The latter pair of men wouldn’t look her in the eye. “You used Zoe. You let me think you were actually interested in being a father to her and you used her to bamboozle the town with baby fever.”

  Coop flinched. “I am interested in being Zoe’s father.”

  A guttural sound rose from Nora’s throat like steam from an overheated engine.

  “Granted, she’s the most effective advertising we’ve tried to date.” No remorse. Coop showed no remorse at all.

  It infuriated Nora. “What happens when the matchmaking stops being fun, Coop? What happens to all your friends’ hopes about having a family?”

  “I’m serious about matchmaking. I’m serious about...” He swallowed and looked away.

  “Go on. Tell her.” Coach stopped making a martini. “You love her.” He hefted a tray of drinks and left them. “Is it that hard to say?”

  Nora couldn’t move. She couldn’t believe. She finally was able to shake her head. “It doesn’t matter if what Coach says is true. You pick up women. You place bets. You use your daughter.” She took a step to leave, but he caught her arm.

  “I told you. We made a bet. But it wasn’t on a whim or made under the influence of alcohol.”

  The two other musketeers nodded.

  “All my life,” Coop said solemnly, “I’ve wanted to leave K-Bay and Alaska. All my life, I felt as if I could be more, if only I could get out of here.” He stroked a finger down Nora’s cheek. “First, my plan with Ty and Gideon fell through. Then my dad got hurt. And then there was you.” He stared deep into Nora’s eyes. “I’ve set up my life to be temporary, like a car I could always trade in so I could move on. But there was always a good excuse not to go. I don’t want temporary anymore. Proving we can take on any challenge—be it selling a car, fixing an ice resurfacer, figuring out federal-loan restrictions or making a love match—opens the door to professional hockey careers. Careers, Nora. In the Lower 48.”

  He laid his palm over Zoe’s crown. “I was wrong to use Zoe like that. But it didn’t do her any harm. I’d never hurt her. I love her.” His gaze collided with Nora’s and he swallowed. “I love you. Can’t you look beneath the hood and see past the dents, and see that I’m a better man every minute I’m with you? I only hope you love me enough to help me achieve my dreams.”

  Nora couldn’t speak. Her throat closed up and the voices in the room faded away.

  He loves me.

  The idea of being loved by Coop and loving him in return didn’t feel as scary as it had earlier in the day, because he wasn’t placing bets on a whim.

  He loves me.

  Coop was working toward a future, one he’d dreamed of for years. He was a good man. He’d stood by his father when he could have gone away to college. People in K-Bay liked and respected him. He was so much more at twenty-five than her father was at fifty-nine. But he was asking her to veer off the stable, predictable path, to leave her established life behind, to take a chance on love.

  The buzz of silence turned into a ringing in her ears.

  Only it wasn’t in her head. It was Mike, ringing the bell at the other end of the bar. His arm was looped around Tatiana’s waist and she was smiling up at him as if he was the only man for her.

  Nora was envious of that smile.

  “We’ve had a crush on each other since high school,” Tatiana gushed. “And neither of us knew it. Can you believe it?”

  Mike swept Tatiana into his arms and kissed her.

  Ty and Gideon high-fived. Coop stood in front of Nora, waiting for an answer.

  Nora couldn’t breathe. The bet. The abandonment. The blind faith needed to commit.

  She took a step back. Then another.

  Coop sagged against the bar, staring at Nora with hollow, defeated eyes.

  Nora turned and worked her way through the crowd, holding Zoe tight. “I’m sorry, baby. But I’ve got to do this.”

  “Excuse me.” She tapped Mike on the shoulder, edging around the couple. “There’s more love in the room tonight than this bell can stand.” Nora grabbed the bell and rang it with all her might.

  Zoe woke and began to cry.

  But there was Coop, encircling them in the safety of his arms, and laughing and smiling and finally, finally, finally sealing the bell ring with a kiss.

  * * * * *

  The Matchmaker Wore Skates

  Cari Lynn Webb

  To my husband ~ your love and support mean more to me than you could ever know

  Special thanks to my writing family, Melinda Curtis and Anna J. Stewart, for helping me reach my dream. You truly are the best! And thanks to my family for always believing in me. I’m so blessed to have all of you in my life.

  Dear Reader,

  Family is the center of my world. My family can be
supportive, loving, challenging and frustrating, but I wouldn’t trade any of the moments I’ve shared with them. I’m a better person because of my family. And with them I know where I belong.

  Just as it is for Cooper Hamilton, Ty Porter and Gideon Walker in Kenkamken Bay, Alaska. These childhood friends are family; they’ve dreamed together, failed together and stalled out in life together. And now they plan to change their futures.

  But Ty Porter can’t change the future without first facing his mistakes with Kelsey Nash. For Kelsey and Ty, revisiting their history reveals more than bitter memories and painful heartbreak. Turns out that true love never really fades, and sometimes where you belong is right where you are.

  Ty and Kelsey’s story was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy this romance as well as the other two by my very good friends Melinda Curtis and Anna J. Stewart in this anthology.

  I love to connect with readers. Check my website to learn more about my upcoming books, sign up for email book announcements or chat with me on Facebook (carilynnwebb) or via Twitter (@carilynnwebb).

  Cari

  CariLynnWebb.com

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  “IF YOU WANT to play, you need to push.” Ty Porter knocked his forehead against the steering wheel of the ice resurfacer at the outdoor rink in Kenkamken Bay. “Now.”

  “Or we could play around you.” Stan tugged on his thick beard streaked with snowflakes and dropped a puck on the ice.

  For love of hockey players worldwide, someone needed to save Ty from these amateurs. And weekly pickup games with ornery players. Ty squeezed the steering wheel and stared down at the six men watching him sit on his broken ice machine. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Might be we are.” Stan sent the puck skidding toward the far goal. The others nodded in agreement.

  Ty closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. The crisp bite in the air prevented a slow count to ten. “What do you want?”

  “No matches.” Stan swiped his glove across his red nose.

  “What?” Ty’s right temple throbbed.

  “We push this box on wheels out to the parking lot and you agree not to play matchmaker for any of us.” Stan tapped his chest and motioned to his buddies with his gloved mitt.

  By now, the whole town knew Ty and his friends Cooper Hamilton and Gideon Walker had started a matchmaking business. What folks didn’t know was that the business had only been formed as part of a bet.

  Ty twisted in the seat and studied the guys: bearded, tobacco chewing, stained-shirt-clad men. The perfect representation of every male in K-Bay town limits. Add in the three-times-divorced Stan, the wet-behind-the-ears Tommy and a few with more colorful language than the most seasoned crab fishermen, and Ty’s odds of successfully pairing any one of them descended into the negative. But these were hardworking, loyal, salt-of-the-earth men who’d give you the shirts off their backs, albeit stained from yesterday’s BBQ sandwiches, without question.

  Still, Ty and his friends needed to play Cupid four more times to win the bet they’d made with Coach. He wiped his hand over his mouth, covering his smile. “Are you sure, Stan? Could be I located your soul mate and she’s waiting right now at the bar.”

  “Only ones at the Bar & Grill right now are Coach and Sam,” Stan said, referring to the bar’s owner and one of the male regulars. Stan slapped the side of the bulky vehicle. “Only thing waiting at the bar is our empty pint glasses.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Tommy muttered, his shoulders drooping beneath his thick padded gear. Despite being only a year out of high school, Tommy’s date options looked as bleak as him getting his empty pint glass filled in the next two years. Coach maintained a strict rule of not serving minors and threatened plain water to anyone who refused to abide by his policies.

  “But, Tommy, Fannie is over there.” Ty indicated the six-foot female who preferred her whiskey straight and belches unrestrained.

  Fannie paused from sweeping off the walkway to the outdoor ice rink and glared at the men. “I won’t be ringing no bell, either, Ty Porter, so aim those bedroom blues someplace else.”

  The bell Fannie referenced hung over the beer taps in the Bar & Grill and was sounded by those who’d found The One.

  “Only bell I want to hear is the buzzer signaling the start of this game.” Stan knocked his stick against the ice. His compatriots grunted in solidarity.

  “Just to be clear,” Ty said as he jumped down from the stalled resurfacer onto the ice, as sure-footed as the snow rabbit he’d seen race across frozen Lake Talbot last weekend. “You push and I don’t match you up with any willing females.” At their nods, he grinned. “Done. Now push, boys. Whoever gets to the bar first buys the first round.” A safer bet than the one he, Coop and Gideon had made. They’d be playing here for hours.

  The men got the bulky vehicle into the parking lot. While they pushed brooms across the ice instead of hockey pucks, Ty inspected the blown hydraulic hose and dead battery. He checked his watch. Given the time, the earliest he could order replacement parts was tomorrow morning. Add in several days for shipping and he’d be manually smoothing the ice on both this rink and the one inside the arena for the next week. Nothing like hand smoothing rinks to remind him just how far he’d fallen. But he’d played his cards seven years ago and had only himself to blame for the hand he’d been dealt. He rubbed his right temple and tried to block out the bad memories. Nothing good lay that way.

  Shouts echoed behind him, dragging Ty from his past. He watched the guys cease pushing ice shavings to the edge of the rink and begin to pelt each other with snowballs. Even Fannie joined the fray, launching her ammo with her shovel like a catapult. So much for the weekly pickup game. Looked as if they’d be moving to the bar sooner rather than later. First round was going to be on him. Already his wallet seemed lighter. Why hadn’t he quit while he’d been ahead—sort of?

  His mouth seemed to be running faster than his brain could keep up recently. Case in point was the bet with his two best friends and Coach. Not only had he jumped in like an overexcited puppy diving into a ten-foot snowdrift, he’d upped the stakes. He’d blurted out what they all wanted, but never voiced: jobs in professional hockey in the Lower 48. If they won the bet, Coach had promised Ty a coaching job, Gideon a finance position and Coop a marketing role for one of his farm teams.

  Ty wiped his face and tugged his gloves back on. The snowball fight had descended into more of a bench-clearing brawl complete with punches and rapid-fire snowballs to the face. Never mind that the guys didn’t want to be matched. The real issue with winning the bet was the obvious lack of women to match men to. Aside from Fannie, his assistant manager, only testosterone filled the iceplex. And in the town of K-Bay at large, estrogen levels were severely limited.

  But he’d failed his friends once and didn’t intend to let them down again. He and Coop and Gideon would win this bet if he had to sell his soul to do it.

  A red compact was backed awkwardly into the last stall in the parking lot, its rear end smashed into a snowbank. When had that happened? The iceplex’s no-parking sign protruded like a bent tail from the compact’s trunk. Ty pocketed the keys to the ice resurfacer, wondering where the owner of the rental car was—it had to be a rental because no one in K-Bay drove a vehicle that required chains. In fact, the two front tires had lost their chains. Tourists were like a rash beneath his beard, irritating until removed. Now he had one more thing to
fix.

  The driver couldn’t have gone far. He glanced up and down and across L’Amour Street. Mothers and their kids rushed inside the Clipper Ship Coffee Shop, known for its hot chocolate. Win or lose, Coach had treated Ty’s entire high school team to the steaming cups of goodness after every home game. He hadn’t been inside in seven years.

  A woman bundled from head to boots hurried, as much as a person could, given the salt and snow on the road, toward the coffee shop. She had to be the owner of the red, chainless compact. Only city tourists dressed like that in zero-degree weather.

  Ty strode across the parking lot toward her, stopping at the waist-high snowbank that ate up almost half of the sidewalk. “Hey, stop! You can’t park here.”

  The bundle spun like a sumo wrestler, moving with more bulk than grace.

  “Iceplex employees only.” He pointed at the mangled parking sign. “You need to move your car.”

  The puffed-up tourist came toward him and unwrapped a scarf so thick it looked as if his grandmother’s handmade fleece throws had mated. She pulled off a gray wool cap, revealing familiar short blond hair that teased her ears as if daring Mother Nature to try to freeze her delicate, balanced features.

  Kelsey Nash, the beautiful backstabbing columnist, had returned to K-Bay. The pretty looks belied an icy inner strength; the watered-down-bourbon doe eyes camouflaged a shrewd nature.

  He’d never forget the headlines she’d written about him when they were both eighteen. The first article got picked up by hundreds of news outlets and launched an investigation: Gambling Ring Profits from Hockey Player’s Greed for Fortune and Fame and Exposes Itself.

  The second propelled a high school newspaper reporter into the national spotlight: Accidental or Intentional? Hockey Player Suffers Career-ending Injuries Hours after Investigation Begins.

  Those headlines—those stories—and accusations that he would intentionally throw a game had contributed to the end of his professional hockey career.