Make Me A Match: Baby, Baby / The Matchmaker Wore Skates / Suddenly Sophie. Melinda Curtis
convincing this group of set-in-their-ways singles that they’d found their perfect match.
* * *
“NORA, CAN YOU fill out a survey for me?” Gideon asked thirty minutes after they’d officially opened for business when, miraculously, they hadn’t been laughed out of the bar.
The question left Coop feeling as though he’d been checked from behind and slammed into a wall. “Not her.”
“Why not?” Gideon glanced up from his laptop.
Coop couldn’t look Gideon in the eye. “She’s not exactly single.”
“I am single and I’d be happy to fill it out.” Nora had Zoe on her shoulder and was walking an imaginary track around the bar with a bounce in her step. She stopped next to Gideon’s bar stool. “But it’s only a test. I’m leaving as soon as the bus is cleared to go.”
“You, too, Coop.” Gideon handed him a sheet of paper.
Coop stared at the survey in horror. “Why do I have to fill one out?”
“Because if my survey matches you with Tatiana, we’ll know the algorithm isn’t working.” Gideon left them to pass out more tests.
“Ah.” Nora’s smile was too knowing. “Tatiana broke your heart.”
“It was more like a head-on train wreck. She’s several years younger than me and sneaked into my bedroom one summer night minus a layer or two of clothes.” He’d reacted to the ambush with horror and a firm rejection. “I haven’t slept with the window open since.” He watched Nora burp the baby the way he’d watched Coach demonstrate a new hockey move back in the day: with a keen desire to learn. “Have you ever had your heart broken?”
“Not by a guy.” Nora must have realized how odd that sounded because she quickly added, “By my dad. He was a charmer, a frivolous dreamer and a drunk like...”
“Like me.” Coop couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “You were going to say like me.”
She almost looked remorseful. Almost. “What am I supposed to think? We met in a bar. You charmed my heels off and never called me back.” She glanced around. “You hang out in a bar all day. And you probably think matchmaking is an easy way to riches.”
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
He almost wished she would. “You haven’t even looked under my hood to see what kind of man I am.” Lately. But it wasn’t an issue of how well they knew each other physically. “First off, there aren’t too many places to hang out in K-Bay, especially in winter. Second, you may have noticed I’m drinking water. And third, if I have anything alcoholic here, it’s one light beer and only a couple of times a week.” He sounded far too serious, as if he cared about her opinion. His habits were none of her business. And yet he didn’t stop there. “As for frivolous dreams and matchmaking, I’ve always wanted to leave Alaska. I almost made it once on Ty’s coattails. And I almost made it away to college.”
“What happened?”
“Ty nearly died in a hockey accident and then Pop nearly died in a fishing accident. I couldn’t leave either one.” And now, when he was on the verge of leaving again, he was a father.
In Nora’s arms, Zoe drew her little legs up and released them like a leaping frog. She made an indelicate grunting noise.
“What’s happening?” Coop was filled with the need to comfort the baby. “Do you need me to take her?”
“She’s about to mess her pants.” The way Nora said it implied he had no idea how to change a diaper, not that he could argue with that. “I’d let you take her, but he who holds the baby when she goes,” Nora said in a soft croon, “changes the baby when she goes.”
Zoe repeated her frog-leg movements and grunted some more.
“Just because I hang out in a bar doesn’t mean I can’t change a diaper.” Brave words for a confirmed bachelor. “I know how to properly strap in a car seat. I know the importance of a favorite pacifier.” He didn’t want to relive the day he’d learned that lesson at the car lot. “And I know moms need breaks.” He held out his arms. “I’ll risk it.”
“It’s a sure thing.” Nora maneuvered Zoe for a transfer, but not before the baby pulled up her legs once more and made a sound that rivaled Pop after Beanie-Weenie night at the bar.
“On second thought.” Coop took a quick step back. “This one’s on you.”
“WE’RE IN TROUBLE.” Gideon angled his laptop on the bar so Ty and Coop could see.
“What now?” Coop didn’t think his nerves could take any more matchmaking drama. There was enough drama in his personal life.
Gideon tapped the screen with his pencil eraser. “Ty was matched with Tatiana—”
“No, dude.” Ty hung his head. “No.”
“—and Coop with Mary Jo.”
There was a twang of something in Coop’s chest. Disappointment? How could that be? Coop wasn’t looking for love.
He glanced over at Nora, who was eating lunch with Mary Jo. She fit in easily with the crowd, as if she’d always belonged here. Zoe slept peacefully in a portable bassinet at her feet. The snow hadn’t relented. Twenty feet in forty-eight hours. The single population of K-Bay that they’d managed to bring to the bar would be finishing up lunch soon. They’d be expecting to hear who their potential matches were for next Saturday. They’d want to leave, run errands and go home.
“The test was too shallow.” Gideon clutched the placket of his polo as if it was a tie, stretching the fabric downward. “It didn’t discriminate with enough precision.”
“We’re going to be the laughingstocks of the town.” Ty chugged half his water.
“Nobody panic.” Coop ignored the panic flipping through his stomach and removed Gideon’s hand from its stranglehold. “We can say the computer crashed.”
“What?” Gideon sputtered back to life. “That’s like saying I’m incompetent.”
Coop lowered his voice. “Then let’s just announce their matches are a secret until the ATV event.”
Nora brought her plate over to the counter. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. I was matched with Coach.”
The elderly bar owner stopped filling soda glasses with ice and took Nora’s measure. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s a bad thing because—” Gideon lowered his voice “—you’re married.”
“Then, you shouldn’t have had me take the test.” Coach flashed a mischievous grin at Nora. “Keep in touch. Mabel could kick the bucket any day.”
“And so could you if Mabel hears you talking like that.” Ty glanced over his shoulder as if expecting Coach’s wife to be there with a loaded shotgun.
“It didn’t match you with Coach, Nora,” Coop said wearily. It hadn’t even matched her to him.
“That’s a relief,” Nora said with a pained expression. “I hate to tell you this, but your questions read like the ones from a list in a glossy magazine. I don’t think I want to know who I was matched with.”
Gideon snapped his laptop shut and glared at Ty, who did the back-away shrug and said, “They were your magazines.”
“Ah, the sweet smell of disaster.” Coach finished prepping his sodas and hefted his tray, leaving the trinity of matchmakers with Nora.
Nora considered their pathetic mugs far too long before saying anything