Not sure of this? he murmured.
You too? Im afraid weve invited a disaster on each other.
Yeah. I saw their expressions. Well well retrade around six-thirty?
Sounds right. Ill bring Paul earlier if theres any problem or he wants to go home. She lifted a hand.
He got it, she wanted to touch-knuckles. They were, after all, in this project together. So he leaned forward to touch her knuckles, and again, she looked straight at him.
Just like that, it happened again. A wildfire of emotion, torching through his veins. Need, coiling like a snake. Wanting, whispering like silk through his witless mind.
If their sons would just go along with their crazy plan, hed have chances to see her again. To be around her. To see if she ever peeled off that careful, friendly veneer for a man or if she could be coaxed to.
Dear Reader,
I love writing stories about a man and a woman who are positive they couldnt possibly end up together. She knows it cant happen. He knows it cant happen. But then comes love and all their preconceptions are blown to smithereens.
Although this kind of story is always fun behind the scenes, I believe it touches on something very serious and true. There is no perfect time to fall in loveno convenient time to find the right mate. The more challenging the circumstances, the more two people have to conquer obstacles in their path, and the more tested and strong their love will be.
In this case, I added two boyspartly because I love writing children charactersbut also because kids are brilliant at throwing obstacles in their parents way. Of course, they think theyre helping
Hope you enjoy!
Jennifer Greene
www.jennifergreene.com
About the Author
JENNIFER GREENE lives near Lake Michigan with her husband and an assorted menagerie of pets. Michigan State University has honored her as an outstanding woman graduate for her work with women on campus. Jennifer has written more than seventy love stories, for which she has won numerous awards, including four RITA® Awards from the Romance Writers of America and their Hall of Fame and Lifetime Achievement Awards.
Youre welcome to contact Jennifer through her website at www.jennifergreene.com.
Little
Matchmakers
Jennifer Greene
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Chapter One
Tucker MacKinnon took the sharp curves of Whisper Mountain at daredevil speeds. Typical of a June morning in South Carolina, the sun burned hotter than a bad temper and the humidity was claustrophobic.
His mood was just as miserable.
Anyone in the MacKinnon family could testify that Tucker had never owned a temper. He was the go-to guy in a tornado. Hed handled rattlers and black bears. Hell, hed made a career of handling people no one else could get along withkids with attitude, adults in trouble, personnel wars in small companies. Those challenges were downright fun. But not this.
Nothing was fun about this.
He braked for a stop sign at the base of the mountain, and then it was only a skip and a jump to the elementary school parking lot. His stomach immediately began pitching nerves. Today was the last day of school, as witnessed by the squalling behavior of honking cars and chattering parents. He had to scramble to find a parking spot. Kids were leaping and shrieking as they bounded out the door, free for the summer except for the few hanging tight in the school entrance.
Those few kids had been singled out. They werent allowed to get their report cards until a parent talked to their childs teacher.
Tuckers ten-year-old son was one of those hovering in the doorway until he spotted the familiar silver truck, and then he galloped straight for his dad. Will had his fathers genetic build, which pretty much meant he came out of the womb looking like a beanpole, long and lean. For certain he was the tallest kid in elementary school, but right now, his usually sun-brushed skin was pale, his first words gushing from a pent-up dam.
I didnt do anything, Dad. Honest. Whatever Mrs. Riddle says, it wasnt me. It couldnt have been me. I dont even know what its about.
Hey. Tucker cuffed an arm around his sons neck. Would you quit worrying? Whatever it is, well fix it.
I keep trying to think what I did wrong. Ive been racking and racking my brain. I cant always answer her questions, so maybe thats it. But she never calls on me when I raise my hand. She only calls me when I dont. I mean, how could she be mad at me about that?
Tucker had no idea why the infamous Mrs. Riddle had held back Wills report card, but he was hopingfor her sakethat she had a damned good reason. He walked into the cool, dim hall, and felt his stomach churn another stress ball. Everyone in the MacKinnon family was a major academic achiever except for him. Hed never liked grade school. Or middle school. Come to think of it, hed never liked school altogetherand schools had never much liked him. He was thirty-one now, of course. Only two things really mattered to him in life. His work on Whisper Mountain.
And above everything else, a hundred times over, was his son.
Mrs. Riddle had better not be unfairly picking on his son, or some major fur was going to fly.
How about if you just hang by your old locker? Stay inside where its cool. And youll be able to hear me if I call.
Will slumped off, and Tucker rounded the corner and trekked down the long hall to the last classroom. Not that Mrs. Riddle had a reputation for being a sharp-nosed martinet, but all the other teachers had ditched the place as fast as the kids. Her doorway was the only one with a pair of parents still waiting.
Right off, Tucker recognized the woman just ahead of him.
She was Peties mom.
He could only see the back of her. Didnt matter. A bad marriage was supposed to cure a guy of believing in hopeless causes. Didnt matter. His son was and needed to be his whole world right now.
For darn sure, that mattered. But that didnt stop a guy from admiring the view.
Her hairthe color of lush dark honey, ribboned with sun streaksswayed past her shoulders. Hed often seen her in the same uniforma yellow polo shirt with dark green shorts. The top had a Plain Vanilla logo over the pocket. It was the name of her store, a fresh spice and herb shop tucked in a curve of Whisper Mountain. By any logic, the shop should have failed; the location was obscure, and whod travel out of their way for a spice or two?
His opinion, not for the first time, had proven dead wrong. Everyone on Whisper Mountain knew the place, shopped there, heaped praise on her for what she was doing.
Tucker wouldnt know tarragon from paprika, but that wasnt to say he didnt appreciate spice. The fit of her shorts, for example. The shape snugged over the cup of her fanny, and led straight down to unforgettable thighs and calves. She worked outside and it showed, from the sun-golden tint of her skin to her trim, tight body.
She had a major flaw, seeing that she was as short as a shrimp. He doubted she could reach five-three unless she was standing on a rock.
The rest of the package intrigued him every time he saw her. She was interesting. Natural, earthy. No pretensions to her. Sensual.
A parent left Mrs. Riddles classrooma mom, flush-faced and exiting at a fast jog. Peties mom drew a breath, and then headed into the classroom to brave the dragon, leaving him still thinking about her.
Her name was Garnet. Garnet Cattrell. Shed captured his attention last September, the first day of school, but he never seemed to capture hers. She always answered a hi with a hi back and a smile, but two seconds after initiating conversation with her, she always found a way to move off.
She wasnt unfriendly exactly. It was more like she didnt see him. He could have been a lamppost. A brother. A catalog in the mail. An entity that was easily ignorable.
Naturally, Tucker had backed off. He was in no hustle to make any more mistakes with the female gender. Maybe she didnt like six-three guys with blue eyes. Maybe she had an allergy to size-fourteen feet. Maybe his voice was too low, or his hands too calloused.
Whatever.
The only thing that mattered right now was her being here. Because if her kid had a problem with Mrs. Riddle, it must be time to start counting animals and climb on the ark. Armageddon couldnt be far down the road.
Tucker leaned back against the cool cement wall, not planning on eavesdropping, but damn. It was so easy. Voices carried through the open door. Mrs. Riddles voice had a high nasal quality. Garnetslike the gemhad a rich, quiet softness to it.
I cant imagine what problem you could have with my Pete. As far as I know, hes been getting all As
Of course he is. Hes a very bright boy. Im going to miss having him in my classroom, Mrs. Riddle said stridently. But Ive called in all those parents who, I believe, need some guidance. Middle school is not an easy transition for some children. There are things you might try over the summer to help Peter adjust more comfortably.
Tucker couldnt hearor seeGarnet bristle. But for the first time, he heard something stiff and testy in her voice. Do you have some reason to think Peter wont do perfectly fine in middle school?
I think hell do perfectly fine academically. But possibly not socially. Peter is an academic, Mrs. Riddle said authoritatively. But hes left out whenever it comes to sports. Nor does he ever hang out, as they say, with a male peer group.
But he seems to get along with other kids. Hes never mentioned a problem with anyone. He just isnt a highly social kid.
Hes an old soul, Mrs. Riddle explained. And his nature is on the quiet side. I understand all that. But I suspect you have quite a time getting his nose out of a book, or off the computer.
Tucker heard nothing for a minute. Then Garnet again. Thats true. But its not as if I havent encouraged him
Mrs. Cattrell. Im not criticizing you. And you can take my advice or leave it. But I strongly suggest that you use the summer to find some outdoor or athletic activity that he might like. Give him the opportunity to develop a skill in something outside the academic arena. It doesnt matter which sport. The issue is widening his world, giving him confidence. Kids can become merciless in middle school. You dont want Peter singled out.
They talked for a few more minutes. Not long. When Garnet strode from the classroom Tucker would have talked to her, said something. But she moved past as if not seeing him or anything else, her expression looking something like a kicked puppy. Stricken. Hurt. Worried.
And then, of course, it was his turn to get beat up.
Mrs. Riddle was holding court from behind a desk older than sinthe elementary school was less than ten years old, so she must have brought the scarred-up thing with her. Her hair was steel-colored, springy, her eyes a gray-blue, like flint. Nobody messed with Mrs. Riddle.
She started right in with the stick-up-the-behind tone of voice. Mr. MacKinnon. For once, your Will had a decent semester.
All homework in on time. Studied for tests. Kept his nose clean.
Yes. Well, we wont go so far as to call Will a saint, now, will we? But hes a good boy. The other children all like him, particularly the boys. Hes a fine young athlete. Ive enjoyed having him in my classroom. If I needed help with anything, I could always count on Will to volunteer.
Well good. Tucker scratched behind an ear. He wasnt about to relax, but if all she was going to report was good news, he was even more confused why hed been summoned in here.
But here is the issue, Mr. MacKinnon. Will is going to enter middle school next year. And he has much more physical maturity than most boys his age. If he hasnt noticed girls already, he certainly will soon.
Tucker was still waiting for a headline. No news so far.
Let me be frank, Mr. MacKinnon. I dont know your situation, as far as Wills mother, but I believe he seriously needs a helpful female influence.
Wait. Why?
Because hes become afraid of girls. He turns beet-red when any of the girls talk to him. He walks into walls. He stumbles over his own feet. At the start of the school year, he was fine. But I believe some hormones have caught up with him at this point.
Well, yeah. Im sure they have. But
You work primarily with men, dont you, Mr. MacKinnon? Men. Or boys. There are very few women in your business.
Thats true. But its not because I planned it that way, Tucker said defensively. Its just that the nature of my retreat and adventure programs seem to appeal more to males than females. And its not as if theres never a woman around
Women who Will has frequent occasions to talk with? I dont mean family. I mean women, where hes had the opportunity to form some sort of relationship, even if its only casual.
Well, sure he has. He hesitated. I think. Well, maybe not.
I thought not. So my suggestion to you, over the summer, is to arrange some activities where Will is more exposed to some female presence. A sport that both genders play. Chores where both genders are involved. Something to ease that nervousness he feels around females.
Is he that way with you?
Mrs. Riddle sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. Mr. MacKinnon. Do I strike you as the nature of woman who would make an adolescent boy stutter?