Matchmaker and the Manhattan Millionaire

by Cara Colter

  Jonas marveled at the glory of a world that could bring him someone like her.

  Krissy arrived beside him and they looked at each other. He saw the wonder in her gaze, a look a man could die to receive.

  Fred cleared his throat, reminding them they could not get lost in each other and block out all else just yet.

  Jonas noted that his happy-go-lucky uncle had somehow transformed into a man of quiet authority.

  The age-old ritual of two people joining together in front of the community that would love and support them began.

  Jonas, because of his large family, had been to dozens of weddings. And yet never had the words resonated so deeply with him, never had he felt the sacredness of the vows so intensely as when he was saying them. It felt, not as if the words were leaving him, but as if they were entering him, becoming part of his muscle, his cells, his bones, his soul.

  For better, for worse.

  For richer, for poorer.

  In sickness and in health.

  To love and to cherish.

  Till death do us part.

  And then, just when he thought the experience could not intensify anymore, Krissy, so beloved to him in such a short time, was saying those words to him, her voice strong and sure, her gaze steady on his face.

  He could feel the promise, weaving together with his promises to her, making something brand-new in the world, strong, invincible.

  And then they were declared husband and wife, and to the cheers of the assembled, they kissed each other.

  A kiss that said welcome home.

  A kiss that promised it would stretch toward eternity.

  A kiss that filled every void that neither of them had known they still carried.

  After a long, long time, they came up for air. Jonas rose out of the silence of their joined lips like a swimmer coming from the bottom of a body of water, breaking the surface. His family was cheering. His sister was crying. Mike was grinning ear to ear. Chance was moaning. His nephews were pelting the gathering with flowers and leaves.

  He took Krissy’s hand. It felt so right in his, a perfect fit. He gazed down at her, and she drank him in with wonder. Finally, they turned and walked down the aisle. The gathering had been waiting, and daisy petals floated around them until it felt as if they were walking through a blizzard.

  How right his sister had been that this was the kind of moment that was not just about two people.

  This moment, this celebration of hope, this confirmation of love, this confidence in the future, was not just for Krissy and Jonas.

  It was for all of them.

  Love was a gift that radiated outward to the whole world.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  KRISSY AWOKE IN the morning, sun pouring through the red and white oaks that shaded their cabin and dappling her face. Her feet hurt, in the best possible way, and a smile tickled her lips as she remembered dancing into the wee hours of the morning.

  No doubt that was why she was exhausted, despite having slept soundly.

  In her husband’s arms.

  She realized the place beside her in bed was empty, but she turned to the rumpled sheets and touched them. Buried her nose in his pillow and drank in the scent of him.

  She was married to Jonas Boyden.

  It was almost too big to comprehend. Ever since they had driven under those gateposts onto the resort, it felt as if enchantment had unfolded.

  An enchantment where love was fanned to life, where every moment shone brilliantly, where the impossible became possible, where what was considered normal was suspended.

  Krissy realized she needed to see Jonas to make sure she was not having a dream. She climbed from the bed, showered, pulled a comb through her hair and tossed on some shorts and a T-shirt.

  There was always coffee on the front porch of the main lodge, and she was sure she would find Jonas there.

  She heard him before she saw him, among the deep rise and fall of male voices. She stopped, loving that she knew him so well that she could tell which voice was his. She loved the sound of it, the pure masculine vibrancy, and she felt a quiver as she remembered how his voice had worshipped her last night.

  Beautiful.

  My heart.

  My love.

  But then he stopped talking. And she heard the other voice. Mike?

  “I have to give it to you, buddy, you went the extra mile to keep that car.”

  Just as she had recognized his voice, now she recognized Jonas’s shout of laughter. Everything in Krissy’s world felt as if it was crashing down around her. She did not wait to hear his response.

  This was what the enchantment had kept her from seeing, had kept her from remembering, had kept her from focusing on.

  From the beginning, it had been a deception.

  Her eagerness not to be alone on a weekend that would have intensified her sense of having lost her family and best friend, her aunt Jane, had clouded out reason, had clouded out fact, had clouded out everything.

  And now that the first doubt had wiggled its way past the shining walls of the enchantment, others crowded in.

  What kind of idiot followed through, turning what was supposed to be a game into reality? What kind of fool got married on an impulse?

  Sickly, Krissy realized exactly who got married on an impulse.

  Her parents had. An impulse, and because they had to. Because momentary passion had led to a permanent situation, an unwanted pregnancy.

  She suddenly saw her exhaustion this morning in a completely different light. She counted back to the first time she and Jonas had spent the night together. She realized her cycle was off.

  She had been so swept up in the magic of what had been unfolding between her and Jonas that she had forgotten that stark possibility.

  She was a science major! How could she, of all people, have forgotten the biology of what a man and a woman together could produce? How could she have been so reckless? She had acted without reason, swept away in a tsunami of passion. She hadn’t asked him to take precautions, and he had probably assumed she was on the pill.

  But she wasn’t. She’d given up on love. She knew better. She’d made the very reasonable decision, based on facts, that love was a whirlpool that sucked in everything around it and tossed the wreckage back out when it was done.

  Was she pregnant?

  The fear that overtook her made her heart pound.

  Because this was her parents all over again. A marriage that should have never been held together by a poor baby, born with a job, a responsibility.

  Krissy turned quickly away from the lodge before anybody saw her. She started to run through the trees toward the cabin, panic driving her.

  Calm yourself, she said as she arrived back at the cabin. She had to make rational decisions. And that was never going to happen as long as Jonas was in the picture, clouding her reasoning processes.

  She had to get out of here, before she saw him again. Where was Chance? She had to get her dog and go home, buy herself some breathing space, find out if she really was pregnant or if she was just being hysterical.

  Decide for herself—away from the hypnotic presence of her beautiful husband—if any of this was real, or if it was all part of his game. It was not as if he hadn’t warned her.

  That it would be complicated. That he was master of the elaborate prank.

  The thought that those vows they had spoken might be part of a prank made her sick to her stomach. It was all too much. Too much had unfolded over the last month, and especially these magical days at Boy’s Den.

  All Krissy’s old fears around family swarmed to the surface. She realized she had made a terrible mistake. She had let herself be seduced—literally and figuratively—into thinking make-believe was real. She had been pulled into a fairy tale when she of all people should have known better.<
br />
  Where was Chance? The last she had seen him had been last night. He had been trailing Mike, a sleeping boy over each shoulder, to the main lodge.

  The boys who had called her auntie with such excitement last night.

  Her sense of loss deepened. She was not their auntie, not really. None of it was real.

  She couldn’t risk going to find her dog and bumping into Jonas. Besides, her dog loved it here. He loved having little boys to play with. Chance was better off without her.

  Just like she was better off without Jonas.

  She threw things into a bag. She paused at the white dress. She couldn’t take it, this poignant reminder of the most incredible day of her life.

  But she couldn’t resist it, either. She stuffed the dress in her bag, scribbled a note to Jonas and went out the door. She slid through the trees like a ghost to the main gate and then the main road.

  She did something she had never done before.

  She stuck out her thumb. She wasn’t afraid.

  * * *

  Jonas looked at his watch and smiled. Krissy was sleeping late. Well, who could blame her? It had been quite the night. Dawn had been breaking when they had finally collapsed into each other’s arms and slept.

  He grabbed her a coffee, taking great pleasure in making it exactly how she liked it, and then he made his way up to the cabin. He was going to kiss his wife awake.

  He kicked open the cabin door. “Hey, Mrs. Boyden, time to—

  The bed was empty. The cabin was completely empty. He thought she must have gone in search of him, but how could he have missed her? And then it occurred to him the cabin had a strange aura of abandonment clinging to it. And that her things were gone.

  Even the dress that had lain in a crumpled heap by the side of the bed this morning was gone.

  He felt a sense of panic rising in him. And then he saw the note, tucked under a jar that she had put her bouquet of lupines into.

  Jonas raced over and picked it up, sank into a chair.

  Jonas,

  I am just feeling entirely overwhelmed. I feel we’ve been swept away by passion and realize that may not be the best way to make this kind of momentous decision. Please respect my need for some time and space.

  She signed it simply Krissy. And then added a PS asking him to give Chance to his nephews.

  His nephews. Not her nephews, as if those vows they had spoken yesterday, that joined them so completely, did not matter. As if they were not married at all.

  He sank into the chair and the note trembled in his hand.

  Of course she didn’t trust love. She’d told him about her parents. But now he saw she didn’t trust it so much that she didn’t even want to risk loving her own dog.

  His heart felt as if it was shattering.

  For himself.

  But for her, too.

  And this was a truth he’d always known about love. It left you open to the worst kind of pain. A pain that felt insurmountable, as if it would never end, a gaping wound that would never heal.

  Krissy was right.

  They had not thought this thing through nearly enough. He was shocked at himself for allowing himself to be exactly as she had stated, swept away by passion.

  But for him, it wasn’t passion. He was no newcomer to passion. If he’d been swept away by it in the past, it had been temporary. A moment, and then he’d found his feet, himself, his equilibrium.

  This was not passion that was sweeping him away.

  It was love.

  What did love do? Did it go after her and insist on having its own way? Did it try to convince her? Throw itself at her feet begging for mercy? Or did it respect her need for space and time, and trust that she would come to know the truth as surely as he did?

  If he had to convince her that what had leaped up between them was good and real, maybe it wasn’t quite as good and real as he thought it was.

  Besides, who knew love’s dagger more intimately than him? If he felt this bereft about losing Krissy after only knowing her for such a short time, didn’t that prove what he had felt since the death of his parents? That love could cripple the strongest man?

  Jonas tried to convince himself it was good that she had taken this step—declared a need for space—before it deepened even more.

  He had the awful thought she might be hitchhiking. If that was the case, he had to find her for her own safety.

  Besides, he realized, after the joy of last night, he could not face his family. He quickly packed his things and made his way out to the parking lot. He got in his car—the car he suddenly hated—and drove away before anyone could see him, ask painful questions, put him on the spot.

  He scanned the road for Krissy. She couldn’t have been gone long, and she could not have gotten far. But she was nowhere to be seen.

  When it became apparent he would not find her, he finally stopped and sent his sister a quick text.

  Something has come up for Krissy.

  He remembered her planning an exit strategy well before all this had unfolded into such a spectacular disaster.

  She’s had an emergency. Can you look after the dog for now?

  Then he turned off his phone before Theresa could answer. He resisted, just barely, the impulse to toss it away in a fit of fury and frustration.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KRISSY LAY ON her couch. She was in her wedding dress. She had developed a terrible habit of wearing it around the house, as if she was taking some satisfaction in the fact it made her feel even worse, if that was possible.

  She hadn’t combed her hair yet today, and the dress had an ice cream splotch on the front of it. Prone, she trailed her hand with the spoon in it over the edge of the sofa until she hit the rim of the ice cream bucket. She dug the spoon in and lifted it to her lips.

  Another splotch melted onto the dress.

  She had to pull it together. Ice cream for breakfast wasn’t good for the baby. The drugstore earliest alert pregnancy test kit had confirmed what her heart already knew.

  A baby.

  She was going to have Jonas’s baby.

  It made her so happy, and so sad at the same time. She would not repeat her parents’ horrible story, a baby binding them together long after the passion had fizzled to ugly, wet embers.

  Still, she had thought Jonas would call or drop by unexpectedly, hadn’t she? Just to check on her? Just to make sure she was all right? Just because he loved her to the moon and back and couldn’t stay away?

  She had told him to leave her alone. He was just following instructions. She burst into tears and then tried to staunch the flow. All this emotion could not be good for the baby!

  Krissy heard a vehicle pull up out front. Could he have come, after all? She got up off the sofa and flicked back the curtain. The sunlight hurt her eyes.

  Not Jonas. It was a moving van. How could she have mistaken that deep rumble for the sound of his car? That was the nature of hope, perhaps, wanting something so badly it filled in the blanks with imagination. This was what her secret longing, her secret hope, had always been, even when she denied it: someone to love her. Someone to give her the family she longed for.

  Two burly men were getting out of that van, sliding open the rolling door on the back of it. Good grief. Today was the day they were bringing the boxes from her aunt’s office. Had she known that? Did she have it marked on a calendar somewhere? It was summer. There was no school to keep her on schedule. No routine. The days were sliding into one another, and her responsibilities—keeping her grass cut, opening her mail, answering messages—had fallen completely by the wayside.

  No one missed her.

  That was how totally pathetic her life was. Why try to hide it from complete strangers? She went and opened the door. If her state of dishevelment, and her wedding dress, shocked the deliverymen, they certain
ly didn’t show it.

  She showed them where the basement door was, then ignored them as they carried boxes up and down the stairs. When had she become this person? She simply didn’t care what they thought of her as she took up her reclining position on the couch.

  “Ah, miss?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’re all done. If you could sign this?”

  She sat up and took the clipboard and signed.

  “This fell out of one of the boxes,” he said, handing her a file. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She had some money lying on the coffee table left over from a pizza delivery, and she handed it all to him as a tip.

  Then they were gone, and she stared at the two items in her hand. One was an envelope, and the other was a file that had Jonas Boyden written across the front of it in a thick black Sharpie in Aunt Jane’s block printing.

  Krissy realized how hungry she was for any smidgen of information about Jonas. How had he answered the questions on the Match Made in Heaven application? What did he do for fun? What did he consider the most important attribute in another human being?

  But she forced herself to be disciplined, to calm the hammering of her heart by opening the envelope instead. Inside it was the purchase agreement for her little carriage house.

  She remembered how pleased her aunt had been when she had found it and brought Krissy to see it, how excited they both had been when it was priced reasonably, well within Krissy’s minuscule budget.

  Now, she saw exactly why her aunt Jane’s business account had been so meager. Her aunt had spent all her money when she had paid for the majority of the cost of the carriage house.

  Stunned by this gift, her fingers trembling, Krissy opened the file with Jonas’s name on it. She was not sure if she was relieved or aggrieved that there was no application form inside the thin file.

  There was nothing there at all, except a carbon copy of a receipt for five thousand dollars with words written across it: Satisfaction guaranteed.

  She was going to close the file when she realized something was written on the back of the receipt.