The Matchmakers' Daddy. Judy DuarteЧитать онлайн книгу.
them being strangers. Or, then again, maybe she was feeling uneasy about the thoughts she was usually so good at suppressing.
Yet there seemed to be something else happening, too. Something that had a lot to do with them being male and female.
It had been a long time since a man had held her in his arms. Maybe that’s why she found this virtual stranger so darn attractive, even though she had no intention of replacing the man she’d lost.
Death, they said, had a way of memorializing a person, making them seem almost saintly, when in reality, they’d been flawed and human. But in Peter’s case, that hadn’t happened. Not for her, anyway. He’d lost his footing on the pedestal on which she’d placed him years ago.
“The girls say you’re a secretary,” Zack said, obviously wanting to change the subject as badly as she did.
“Yes, I am. A friend from college knew I was looking to relocate, and she told me there was a perfect position for me at the Park Avenue Community Church. I interviewed over the phone, and Reverend Morton went to bat for me with the board of elders. Two days later, he offered me the job. And here we are.”
“I hear he can’t get along without you.” Zack didn’t know why he mentioned what the girls had told him, why he felt compelled to turn the conversation toward the preacher. But the fact was, he wanted to hear that the good reverend was seventy years old and happily married.
“Tom, or rather Pastor Morton, is a very busy man. And he appreciates someone taking care of the little things for him. I’m sure another secretary would be just as helpful.”
Before Zack could think of a response, the two girls entered the living room. It didn’t take long to figure out they’d been eavesdropping.
“Mrs. Ashton says our mom is perfect for the job because she used to be a pastor’s wife and knows just what to do to make Reverend Morton’s life easier,” Becky interjected.
Diana’s husband used to be a preacher?
Somehow, that didn’t surprise him. And, if anything, it only placed Diana on a higher level than most people.
When he was younger, before his time in prison, he’d never dated anyone who was considered a good girl, even though he’d sensed one or two of them had been attracted to him. It didn’t take a psychic to see the conflict in a mismatched relationship like that.
And from what he’d already seen and easily surmised, women didn’t get much nicer than Diana.
“Mrs. Ashton said Reverend Morton wants to ask Mom out on a date,” Becky said.
“Without us,” Jessie interjected. “But Mommy told Mrs. Ashton that she wasn’t interested.”
“That’s because she could do way better than him.”
“Girls, that’s enough. Mrs. Ashton is well-intentioned, but she has entirely too big of an imagination.” Diana glanced at Zack, her embarrassment reflected by rosy cheeks. “There are a few people in this world who live by a Noah’s Ark philosophy.”
A smile tugged at Zack’s lips. “What’s that?”
“The idea that this world would be a much better place if everyone made the journey two-by-two. But I don’t agree.”
He wondered why. Had she been so in love with her husband that she couldn’t imagine another man taking his place?
If so, it made sense.
Diana looked at Zack. “Do you mind supervising while Becky lights the candle on the patio table?”
“No. Not at all.” He got to his feet and allowed the girls to lead him through a small dining room and out a sliding door to a patio, where they’d set the table for four. The truth was, he was glad to have something to do. Glad to have something to focus on.
Something other than a woman who needed what she’d once had—the kind of man Zack would never be.
For some dumb reason, in spite of two little kids sitting at the table, the evening held a romantic aura Zack found hard to ignore.
Maybe it was because of the faint scent of night-blooming jasmine, the air rustling the leaves in the tree, a full moon overhead.
Of course, the attractive woman sitting at his side held an aura of her own.
The flicker of two candles lit the small patio table, as forks clicked against ceramic dinnerware.
Zack dug into a plate filled high with spaghetti, hoping he didn’t dribble sauce all down his chin and on his shirt. He’d never been self-conscious while eating before. But this meal was different, and he hoped what few manners he’d acquired during his youth hadn’t been lost after five long years behind bars.
“Thanks for including me,” he told Diana. “The girls were right. You’re a good cook.”
“You should eat her meat loaf and mashed potatoes,” Jessie said. “I always eat a hundred helpings.”
“You’ll have to come over for dinner when Mom makes chicken-fried steak,” Becky added. “It’s really good, too.”
Zack glanced at Diana, saw her flush again. Was she embarrassed by the praise?
Or by the possibility that the girls would offer Zack another dinner invitation he might accept?
“I haven’t had many home-cooked meals,” he admitted. “But this is one of the best.”
“Thank you.”
As their gazes caught, her movements stilled.
His, too.
Something hovered in the night air. Sexual awareness, he suspected—something she’d sensed, too. But she looked away, cleared her throat and scooted her chair from the table. “Ice cream anyone? It’s Rocky Road.”
The girls eagerly placed their orders. And since Zack was big on dessert and chocolate was his favorite, he shot her a grin. “Sure. I’d like some. Thanks.”
When Diana went inside, Becky rested her elbows on the table, leaned forward and whispered, “Even if Mom wanted to go on a date, it wouldn’t be with Reverend Morton. He’s not her type. And not just because he’s going to be totally bald someday.”
Where had that come from? The preacher’s name hadn’t popped into the conversation since Diana had put a stop to it earlier. Obviously, the child had been holding back her opinion until her mother slipped way.
“When he wears his Padres baseball cap he looks kind of handsome,” the younger girl said. “But he doesn’t have muscles. Not like yours.”
Zack was pleased that the preacher couldn’t hold a candle to him—physically, at least. But he figured a woman like Diana was more interested in character and reputation. In that case, Morton had him beat by light years. Not that he was in the running.
Or was he?
Was he being set up by a couple of pint-sized matchmakers?
“You know the Noah’s Ark story?” Becky asked.
Not really, but he had a general idea, so he nodded sagely, as if he was an expert.
“The story’s true, even if Mom doesn’t believe it.”
Zack didn’t think Diana was questioning the story. She’d just been making a statement about people not needing to be paired off to be happy.
“God is very big on love and marriage,” Becky explained. “That’s why he made Adam and Eve.”
“And it’s why He made Noah and…” Jessie paused, screwed up her little face and looked at her all-knowing big sister. “What was his wife’s name, Becky?”
“I don’t remember. But she was very important to the whole story.”
As