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“Me, either.” Coop managed to sound both rebellious and repentant at the same time.
Nora resented them talking about her as if she wasn’t standing there holding the next generation of Hamilton genes. “I’m from Anchorage.”
“Forgiving my son and movin’ here, I hope.” Brad smiled, making Nora realize where Coop had gotten his forgive-me-any-sin smile. For some reason on the older man it didn’t seem so slick. “Family should stick together. It’s hard to raise a child on your own. I should know.” He moved with a hitching gait toward a recliner.
“Paternity hasn’t been proved.” Coop cinched the bag of kitchen trash and tossed it out a side door.
“Have you seen this baby’s nose?” Brad waved his arms, sending the chair rocking.
Nora gave Coop twenty bonus points for having a decent dad. But she had to be firm about things. “It’s his, but I’m not moving here.” She had a life in Anchorage: a secretarial job at a high school, benefits, brothers, friends.
“It’s too early to say that. Newborns are easy. Wait until she’s two.” Brad sat in a grubby tan recliner with a breath-stealing, free-fall backward style. “Prepare the extra room, Cooper.”
Coop had already disappeared down the hallway.
“Sit, Nora, and tell me all about my grandchild.” Brad spoke so loud that Nora suspected he was hearing impaired.
She took a seat on the couch near him, placing the carrier next to her, and said in a loud voice, “This is Zoe. She’s five weeks old.”
“Wait a second.” Brad held up his fingerless hand and bellowed, “Cooper?”
“Yeah?”
“I had a phone call earlier. What’s this nonsense I hear about you being a matchmaker?”
Coop? A matchmaker? Shades of her father.
“It’s not nonsense, Pop.”
“What you know about love could be written on a postage stamp.” Brad turned to Nora, his expression apologetic. “Best you know the truth, missy.”
“Preaching to the choir,” she murmured.
Zoe blew out a frustrated breath, perhaps sticking up for her father but more likely demanding Nora’s attention since her little arms waved with rock-concert fervor.
“I’m not as clueless about love as you think.” Coop appeared in the hallway, arms loaded with folded sheets and bed pillows. “I know you and Suzy Adams have a thing for each other.”
“That’s not a thing.” Brad wrestled with the recliner’s footrest handle, moving nothing. “It’s a weekly lunch and occasional movie.”
Coop cocked one dark eyebrow. “Do you pay?”
“What kind of a man do you think I am?” Brad let go of the handle long enough to shake his fist at the heavens. “Of course I pay.”
“It’s a thing.” Coop went into the other room.
“It’s not a thing,” Brad shouted louder than usual, finally moving the footrest out.
“It kind of sounds like a thing,” Nora said apologetically.
Zoe made excited puffing noises of agreement.
“I can’t have a thing. Just look at me.” Granted, Brad was reclining, but he looked fine to her. He looked more than fine when he pulled out that Hamilton smile. No wonder he and Suzy Adams had a thing.
The heater kicked on with a house-shaking, window-rattling thud, reminding Nora of her father’s run-down home and that, no matter how charismatic the Hamiltons were, this was no place for her baby.
* * *
“WE NEED A game plan,” Ty said to Coop and Gideon the next morning at the Bar & Grill.
Coach was open for Saturday breakfast to the citizens venturing out in the inclement weather. The blizzard had abated to heavy snowfall and the town’s sole plow had been busy since the early morning. Many people in K-Bay regarded snowstorms as no more than an annoyance in their otherwise regular routine. Businesses that were open—including matchmaking—were going to get customers.
Coop and Gideon had wisely waited for Ty to finish his first cup of coffee before beginning the matchmaking strategy session. But that left Coop thinking about Nora and her baby.
Nora, who’d gotten more attractive since he’d last seen her, was nice to Pop and watched over that baby like a mama polar bear over its cub. She’d made a face when he’d first brought her home, but she hadn’t complained or put down the place. Still, Nora hadn’t said a word about what she wanted from him other than a reference to money. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be looking for a wedding ring. Because marriage didn’t fit with Coop’s lifestyle; the one that made it easy for him to pick up and leave.
Just last year, Becky Riney had turned up pregnant and demanded Wally Spitacker marry her, even though they’d never been serious about each other beyond being friends with benefits. That marriage lasted about two seconds and cost Wally a used minivan sold to him by Coop, a couple grand for the wedding reception and a couple grand in legal fees. Until Coop was 100 percent certain it was his kid, he didn’t want to talk child support or his visitation or...well...anything.
“I think we should ask people questions about what they want in a mate.” Gideon tugged the buttoned collar of his polo shirt down as if he missed his uptight banker’s tie.
“Can we not use the word mate?” Coop said, thinking of Nora.
“Significant other? Person of interest?” Gideon sounded testy and looked as if he hadn’t slept well.
Coop couldn’t cast stones. He hadn’t slept well, either. Was he finally getting out of town? Or was this chance going to slip through his fingers?
“We need six matches.” Ty’s eyebrows had a grim slant. “Six, not three. For the life of me, I can’t come up with a plan.”
“Your plans weren’t always good ones.” Coop referred to choices Ty had made at eighteen that had scarred him for life. “When I want to get a sales boost at the car lot, I park the flashiest, most expensive car right next to the street. Doesn’t matter if they don’t buy it. Chances are if they come to look, I can get them to buy what they need. And the flashiest woman in town is—”
“Tatiana.” A slow grin appeared in the depths of Ty’s beard.
Tatiana Michaels was just back from college and in training to be the town queen bee. Men either ran to please her with the knowledge she’d chew them up and spit them out, or they ran from her because they valued their wallets and their pride. Either way, she was the flashiest, most notorious single woman in K-Bay.
Coach slid three plates loaded with campfire scramble specials in front of them. “Tatiana isn’t going to ring that bell.” The bar owner called out a greeting to Derrick before disappearing into the kitchen once more.
“Coach is right.” Gideon peppered his food. “Isn’t using Tatiana bait and switch?”
“If Tatiana agrees to sign up for matchmaking, who’s to say one of our male clients wouldn’t be the perfect match for her?” Coop really needed to believe his own sales pitch. “Once we let it be known Tatiana signed up, men and women will come to us in droves.”
“K-Bay doesn’t have droves of singles.” Ty set down his egg-loaded fork, back to looking grim. “At least not singles I’d consider eligible.”
“Work with me here.” Coop needed his friends to jump on board. Granted, Ty had more of a reputation at stake than Coop or Gideon, but they needed to choose a direction and go for it, not snipe at each other. “Once they sign up, Gideon can give them his love survey.”
“I