The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) (19 page)

“No, no,” I say. “I’m fine. I just…” Here we go. This will be the real test. “I just need to grab a couple Stevia packets from Joe’s. I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

Much to my surprise and delight, Colin only shrugs. “Okay. See ya in there.” And then he walks away.

My heart is fluttering with giddiness. It worked! As he walks toward the bakery, I make a beeline back to Joe’s and burst through the door. He’s standing on the other side of the counter and looks up when the bell jingles.

“Well?” he asks.

I give a moment’s pause, for dramatic effect, of course, and then shout, “It worked! It worked! I could kiss you right now!”

Oops. That wasn’t supposed to be out loud.

“I mean,” I fumble to cover my last statement as I cross the shop. Maybe he went temporarily deaf. “I, um…”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he says, thankfully ignoring that humiliating outburst.

“I know,” I say, my heart still racing but for an entirely different reason all of a sudden. Because it’s in this moment I realize I’m free. Not that I wasn’t before, but we all knew I couldn’t make a move under the circumstances. “I couldn’t have done it without you, so…thanks. A lot.”

Joe shrugs and offers me a sweet grin. “No problem.”

A customer pushes through the door, breaking the trance I’m in, and I smile back at Joe. “Well, have a good day,” I say, backing out of the shop, but wishing I could stay. Wishing I had the balls to say what I really want to say. But it’s not the time, and I have work to do. Not to mention, I’m dying to see what’s going on at the bakery. Will Colin want to pick up with Holly where they left off? I still don’t know what he remembers. And will Holly just take him back?

I rush across the street, into the bakery. It’s quiet, and Colin’s not in the office. I keep going and push through the swinging doors of the kitchen, only to find Colin and Holly in a liplock, groping one another right next to the giant vat of butter.

I smile and lean against the wall. A couple weeks ago this would have sent me into a jealous tizzy. But now, I only feel happiness for them. And relief for me. I just hope Holly can forgive me for all I put her through. The way she and Colin are groping each other gives me hope.

“I hate to break up the reunion,” I say, expecting them to pull apart, but they just keep at it. “Ahem!”

Nothing.

Ah, well. I was planning to have to run things myself, anyway. Which makes me wonder why Holly decided to come back to work today. Wasn’t she going to wait until she was sure I had straightened everything out?

“Um, guys?” I try again. I don’t care if they want to stay like that all day, I’d just rather they not stay that way in my kitchen. But I’m pretty sure I’ll have to use brute force.

I stride across the kitchen to where they’re standing and tug at both their arms.

“Mmmm,” Holly says. I suppose that’s her way of dismissing me.

I tug again, harder this time, forcing them apart finally. They don’t even look at me. They just stand there, panting and staring at one another.

“Um.” This is so awkward. “Why don’t you guys take the day off?”

“Okay,” Holly says, still staring at Colin as if
she’s
under a spell.

“See you tomorrow,” Colin adds.

And then they both walk out the door. I smile after them, feeling satisfied and proud of myself. Not to mention, hopeful. With all that mess out of the way, maybe I can make a move on Joe.

Nineteen

By the end of the day I’m exhausted. Not only have I done all the baking, but all the sugar molds and decorations too. What I want now is to go home, put on my PJs and watch TV. But there’s one thing I have to do first.

Once I’ve stripped my apron off and waved goodbye to the sales girls out front, I make my way across the street to Joe’s. He’s still behind the counter, and he looks just as tired as I feel. I smile at him as I walk through the door and he gives me a wink in return.

Seriously. Why does that one little gesture turn me into pure mush inside?

I wait in line, and when I get to the front, he asks what he can do for me.

“Actually,” I say, drawing out the
yyyyy
at the end. “I was hoping we could go out again sometime.”

“Ah,” he replies, with a satisfied smile. “My plan to woo you is working.”

Woo me
? “I-I didn’t realize you had such a plan.”

“Ouch.” He rears back as if offended. “You mean me buying you dinner and drinks didn’t tip you off at all?”

I can’t help but laugh. “It might have, but then…” Heat infuses my cheeks.

He leans over the counter. “I didn’t kiss you goodnight?” he says in a whisper.

“Um, well…yeah.”

“Give me another chance?”

“Didn’t I already ask
you
out?”

He cocks his head sideways. “Good point. How’s tonight?”

“Tonight?” I’m a little surprised. We did just see each other last night.

“Unless you’re busy.”

The bell rings behind me, heralding the arrival of another customer.

“No, no,” I say in a rush. “Tonight’s fine. Wanna come over and watch a movie?” Maybe I can have my cake and eat it too. Cozy up on the couch
and
spend the evening with Joe.

“Be there at eight.” He winks again and then turns to the next customer. “The usual?”

I enjoy the sounds of him making small talk with his customer as I exit the shop. The sun is almost gone on the horizon and the temperature is dropping fast. I can’t wait to light a fire in the fireplace, order a pizza and pop in a movie. A few months ago that would have sounded like such a boring evening, but I’ve become domesticated and dull, it seems. And even stranger than that, I don’t mind it at all. Funny how much has changed. How much
I’ve
changed.

By eight o’clock I’ve showered, lit the fire and ordered the pizza (plain cheese, to be safe). Joe should be here any minute, so I pull out an array of DVDs for us to choose from. Everything from classic movies like
Field of Dreams
to modern movies like
Iron Man
and
Leap Year.
I’m secretly hoping he’ll choose
Leap Year.

The doorbell rings and I bound across the living room in my sweat suit to fling open the door. Joe is standing there on the stoop, clad in jeans and a wool military coat with a hood hanging out the back.

“Hey,” I say, a little breathless.

His smile is seriously devastating, and I’m so glad I’m able to freely admit that now. “Hey,” he replies.

I step back and gesture for him to enter. He does, and I grab his coat as he slips it off, moving the bottle of wine he’s holding from one hand to the other.

“Hope you like red,” he says, holding the bottle aloft.

“After the week I’ve had, you could give me turpentine.” I grab the wine and head for the kitchen. “I ordered pizza. Hope that’s okay.”

“My favorite.”

I pull out the bottle opener and hand it over. “Do you mind? Unless you like cork? Because it usually ends up in the bottle when I try to open the wine.”

With a laugh, Joe takes the wine and opener from me. The way he so expertly twists the screw into the cork and then deftly pulls it out with a
pop
has me all hot and bothered. Trying to ignore my impulse to jump him then and there, I turn to the cabinets and pull out the wine glasses. Joe fills them generously, and I can’t help but feel there’s such synchronicity between us. It’s like we’re doing a dance as we twist and pop and procure.

He hands me a glass and then holds his up to toast. I clink my glass against his as he says, “To us.”

Us?
I hadn’t realized there was an
us.
It makes me feel giddy all over.

“To us,” I repeat, loving the sound of that, and then take a sip. The wine feels warm and tastes sweet on my tongue, and almost instantly sends relief through my body as it makes its way to my stomach. “Ah,” I sigh. “Just what I needed.”

“Me too. Long day.”

“Doesn’t help that you kept me out past my bedtime last night. Or that Colin and Holly ditched me to go home and have sex all day.”

Joe laughs. “Really?”

“Really. They would have done it in the kitchen had I not physically kicked them out.”

“And how are you feeling about everything?” Joe’s light brown eyebrows are knitted with concern.

“Relieved. Ecstatic. Stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“I don’t know why I was so obsessed with him,” I say as I lead us to the living room and plop down on the couch. “I mean, I really thought he was the one, but now I wonder what I ever saw in him.”

“He
is
cute,” Joe says in a mock-girly voice as he sits down next to me.

Laughing, I smack him on the shoulder. He grabs my hand and the laughing stops. Oh, God. A million things are running through my head all of a sudden: Did I brush my teeth well enough; Did I apply enough deodorant?; Did I remember to match my bra and panties (yes, I think so, but did I go with the pink or the black?); Is he going to notice my stomach rolls when he snakes his arm around my waist to inevitably draw me closer to him?; Will he even be
able
to draw me closer? (I really need to get back to the gym)

But when his lips land on mine, the thoughts clear from my head completely. He roams his hands over my torso and, much to my surprise, I don’t try to push them away. Not only that, but he doesn’t suddenly rear back in disgust.

I’ll spare you the details, but just as things are starting to get good—and I mean,
really good
—I hear a key turn in the lock of the front door. We both stop what we’re doing and I meet his deer-in-headlights gaze. I’m sure mine is much the same.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper.

“Who is that?”

There are only three people it could be: Holly, Mom, and/or Dad. The most logical explanation would be Holly, which wouldn’t be a big deal at all. But if it’s Mom and Dad—

“Hi, honey, we’re home!” Mom calls from the entrance, a mere ten feet away. They have a clear view of the couch from the foyer, but since Joe and I are lying down—with him
on top of me—
they don’t know we’re there.

My heart is racing and I’m getting that panicky feeling in my chest. If we don’t show ourselves voluntarily, they’ll surely find us, and that would be even more awkward. Not to mention, I’ve lit my favorite
Tocca
Tahiti candles all over the place. It’s obvious
someone
is here.

There’s a pause and then, “Candy? Are you home?”

I twist my face into an apologetic grimace and then gently push Joe off me. He moves easily to the other side of the couch as I turn to the front door where my parents are standing, slack-jawed.

Dad is holding a large pizza box in his hand. “We intercepted the delivery guy on the porch.”

“Oh, thanks.” I have no idea what else to say.

Clearly, Mom doesn’t either. Her mouth opens and closes several times as she struggles with what to do in such an uncomfortable situation. I can only be grateful we’ve still got our clothes on. Another three minutes and this would have been far more mortifying for all of us.

“This is Joe,” I offer timidly. “As in
A Latte Joe.
”

“Oh, yes,” Mom says, her voice all high and fluttery. “Of course. Nice to see you again, Joe.”

I don’t want to be rude—this is my parents’ house after all—but I have to know—

I stand up and smooth out my t-shirt. “What are you doing home?”

Mom opens her mouth to say something, but Dad cuts her off. “Got tired of being on a boat,” he says, casting Mom a covert look. “Missed our own bed.”

I want to point out that they could have given notice, but since I’m basically a guest in their house, and they’re grown-up adults, I don’t feel it’s my place to say so. “Okay, well…welcome home!”

Joe clears his throat, drawing our attention to him as he stands from the couch. “Listen, thanks for the wine,” he says. “I better be getting home.”

No!
“Already?” I practically whine.

“Don’t leave on our account,” Dad says, and I want to kiss him. “We’re just going to head up to bed.”

Mom clearly was not aware of this. She looks at him, mouth agape, as Dad sets the pizza on the nearest end table.

“Come along, dear.”

In the next moment, Dad is hoisting their suitcase up the stairs and Mom is trailing slowly after him. I feel half-guilty. Not whole-guilty because they
could
have called. Not that it matters. Things have gotten awkward with Joe now. You could cut the tension with a knife.

I turn to him, my arms swinging in my attempt to seem casual. “So?” I say.

He gives me a sweet half smile. “So.”

Nobody knows what to say, and every second adds to the discomfort. Then, when we can’t take it anymore, we both start talking at the same time.

“Should we heat up the pizza?”

“I should probably just go.”

My spirits deflate. After all this he’s going to go? I want to make him stay. Hell, I’m tempted to grab that rope I saw in the garage and tie him to the dining room chair. Then I could feed him pizza while we watch
Leap Year.

I shake my head. What am I thinking? This is a disaster, and it’s not like we could pick up where we left off with my parents upstairs. God, I need my own place.

“I’m really sorry,” I say, feeling defeated. “But I understand. I’ll walk you out.”

I grab his jacket from the hook in the foyer. He takes it and smoothly puts his arms through the sleeves. We walk through the front door and I close it behind us. We’re standing side-by-side, staring out at the drive, when it begins to drizzle. A chilly wind blows and Joe takes the opportunity to pull me close to him.

I have to admit, I’m slightly stunned by this gesture. Not that I’m complaining. I just thought the night was a bust, and now here I am, in his arms, up against his chest, his eyes twinkling at me in the darkness. His coat smells like coffee and it’s creating this soft, comforting padding for me to lean into. I wish I could snuggle up to him all night.

“Just for the record,” he says, his voice all low and gravely, “it would have been the best you’ve ever had.”

A giggle wells up inside of me. I’m giddy at the realization he’d planned to go all the way with me tonight. And simultaneously frustrated my parents chose the worst possible moment to return from their trip. Why couldn’t they have shown up when Colin was lurking around the house, stalking my every move?

“Somehow,” I say, “I actually believe you.”

And then he leans down to kiss me. It’s sweet and tender and…the best I’ve ever had, as far as kisses go.

When he pulls away he has the most delicious smile on his face. “Thanks again for the wine.”

I laugh. “You brought it.”

“Well, thanks for providing a glass for it.”

“Anytime.”

He winks, then descends the stairs and slides into his car. I’m so bummed to see him go, but so very satisfied with the way things are going. If my parents didn’t scare him off, then we’re in good shape.

I haven’t had a real relationship with a man in far too long, if ever. I dated a string of losers, slept with a string of hot bods, and accepted drinks from just about anybody, but no one I could really count as a serious boyfriend. Probably because I never saw myself as the domestic type. But here I am, a baker in suburban Connecticut, opting for quiet nights in front of the fire, and falling in love with a cute boy from my hometown. Granted, he has magical abilities, which puts an interesting spin on things, but still…I’m really surprising myself here.

Once his taillights are out of view, I head back into the house and march up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom. They’re talking in hushed tones and I’m tempted to put my ear to the door.

Okay, I
do
put my ear to the door.

“I don’t know how you could just walk away like that,” Mom is saying.

“I know you’re concerned, but it’ll all be straightened out soon,” Dad replies. “We can’t give anything away yet.”

It’s like they’re talking in code. No point in standing out here trying to decipher nonsense.

“All right, guys,” I shout through the door. “You can come out now!” I rap on the door with my knuckle.