The Matchmaker's Happy Ending. Shirley JumpЧитать онлайн книгу.
So be on your best behavior.”
His father chuckled. “That’s no fun. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is the potential for bad behavior.”
Beside her, Jack rolled his eyes and grinned. Parents, he mouthed.
Seemed she wasn’t the only one with a troublesome parent. Jack handled his father with a nice degree of love and humor. That tender touch raised her esteem for him, and had her looking past the suit and tie. Intriguing man. Almost…intoxicating.
She didn’t have time, or room, in her life for being intrigued by a man, though, especially since her business took nearly every spare moment. Even one as handsome as him.
She could almost hear her mother screaming in disagreement, but Marnie knew her business and herself. If she got involved with someone right now, it would be a distraction. Maybe down the road, when her business and life were more settled…
Someday when?
She’d been saying “someday” for years. And had to find the right moment—or the right man—to make her open her heart to love.
“I called because I was wondering when you’d be home,” Jack’s father was saying. “You work more hours than the President, for God’s sake.”
Marnie bit back a laugh. It could have been her conversation with her mother a little while ago. She half expected his father to schedule a blind date brunch, too.
“I’m on my way.” Jack flicked a glance at the dashboard clock. “Give me twenty minutes. Did you eat?”
“Yeah. Sandwiches. Again. Lord knows you don’t have anything in that refrigerator of yours besides beer and moldy takeout.”
“Because I’m never there to eat.”
“Exactly.” Jack’s father cleared his throat. “I have an idea. Maybe…you should bring your pretty companion home for a—”
“Hey, no embarrassing statements, remember?”
His father chuckled. “Okay, okay. Drive safe.”
Jack told his father he’d be home soon, then said goodbye and disconnected the call. “Sorry about that,” Jack said to Marnie. “My dad is…needy sometimes. Even though it’s been a few years since he got divorced, it’s like he’s been lost.”
“My mother is the same way. She calls me every five minutes to make sure I’m eating my vegetables, wearing sunscreen and not working too much.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like we have the same parent. Ever since my dad sold his house, he’s been living with me, while he tries to figure out if he wants to stay in Boston or high-tail it for sunny Florida. He thinks that means he should comment on everything I do and every piece of furniture in my apartment.”
“And what is or isn’t in your fridge.” Marnie’s mom stopped by Marnie’s condo almost every Sunday after church, but less to visit than to do a responsible child check. You need more vegetables, her mother would say. Or you should cook for yourself more often. And the best, if you had a man in your life, you wouldn’t have to do that. Marnie loved her mother, but had realized a long time ago that a mother’s love could be…invasive. “I get the whole you should make more time for homecooked meals and a personal life lecture on a weekly basis. I think my mother forgets how many hours I work. The last thing I want to do when I get home is whip up a platter of lasagna.”
“I think they go to school for that,” Jack said. “How to Bug Your Adult Kids 101.”
She laughed. It did sound like they had the same parent. “Maybe you should get your dad involved in something else, something that keeps him too busy to focus on you. There are all kinds of singles events for people his age. Some of them are dates in disguise, get-togethers centered around hobbies, like cooking or pets,” Marnie said, unable to stop work talk from invading every second of her day. My lord, she was a compulsive matchmaker. And one who needed to take her own advice. First thing tomorrow, she was going to look into dates for Ma and someday soon, she’d nicely tell her mother to butt out.
Yeah, right. Marnie had yet to do that to anyone, especially her mother. But she could tell others what to do. That she excelled at, according to her sisters.
Jack nodded. “I tried that before, years ago, but it didn’t go so well. But you’re right—maybe if I try again, now that some time has passed since all that upheaval, my dad will be more open to doing some activities, especially ones that get him dating again.”
“And if he meets someone else—”
“He won’t have time to worry about my fridge or my hours.” Jack laughed. “Ah, such a devious plan we’ve concocted.”
“As long as it works.” She grinned.
Jack turned onto Marnie’s street. A flicker of disappointment ran through her as the ride came to an end. “It’s the fourth one on the right,” she said. “With the flowers out front.”
Invite him in? Or call it a night?
He slowed the car, then stopped at her building’s entrance. “Nice looking place. I love these brick buildings from the early 1900s. It’s always nice to see the architecture get preserved when the building gets repurposed. Not every owner appreciates history like that.”
“Me, too. Coming home is like stepping into history.” She smiled, then put out her hand. Impersonal, business-like. “Well, thank you for the ride.”
That zing ran through her again when his large hand enfolded hers. For a second, she had the crazy thought of yanking on his hand, pulling him across the car, and kissing him. His broad chest against hers, his lips dancing around her mouth, his hands—
Wow. She needed to sleep more or get extra potassium or something.
“It was the least I could do after you stayed,” Jack was saying. He released her hand. Darn. “Especially after you had a long day yourself.”
Focus on the words he’s speaking, not the fantasy. She jerked her gaze away from his mouth. “It was no trouble.”
He grinned. “You said that already.”
“Oh, well, I’m just really…tired.”
“Yeah, me, too. I had a long day, made longer by someone who dropped the ball on some important paperwork. I got everything back on track, but…what a day.” He ran a hand through his hair, displacing the dark locks. “Anyway, I’m sorry again about losing my temper back there.”
“I would have done the same thing if my trunk looked like an origami project,” she said.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and shrugged off the damaged rear. “It gives my insurance agent something to do.”
She laughed. “True. Anyway, thanks again. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” He reached for her before she got out of the car, a light, quick touch on her arm. But still enough to send heat searing along her skin. “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee or a drink? We could sit around and complain about our jobs, our meddling parents, bad cab drivers and whatever else we can think of?”
A part of her wanted to say yes, but the realistic part piped up, reminding her of the time and her To Do list, and her no-men-for-the-foreseeable-future resolve. Besides, there was something about that zing, something that told her if she caved, she’d be lost, swept in a tsunami. The mere thought terrified her. “I can’t. It’s late. And I have an early day tomorrow.”
“On Saturday?”
She raised one shoulder, let it drop. “My job is a 24/7 kind of thing.”
He chuckled. “Mine, too. And even though every year I vow to work less and play more…”
“You don’t.”