Crazy Little Thing Called Matchmaking Read online

  Crazy Little Thing

  Called Matchmaking

  Love and Laugh

  on Long Island

  Book One

  Maggie Van Well

  Booktrope Editions

  Seattle, WA 2015

  COPYRIGHT 2015 MAGGIE VAN WELL

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: [email protected]

  Cover Design by Greg Simanson

  Edited by Jacy Mackin

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN978-1-62015-531-8

  EPUB ISBN 978-1-62015-530-1

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015901518

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  More Great Reads from Booktrope

  Acknowledgments

  As always, thank you to my beta readers, Barbara Van Well, Trisha Sweezey, Tracey Brodeur, and my mother, Johanna Van Well. You ladies rock!

  My sons,Anthony, Marc, and Dylan for the inspiration for Alex and Drew.

  Thanks to all the members of Long Island Romance Writers. Your support is endless.

  Thank you to my awesome team at Booktrope Publishing: Katherine Sears and Ken Shear. Vanya Drumchiyska, Samantha March, Greg Simanson, Jesse James Freeman, and Jennifer Gracen, with a special shout-out to my editor, Jacy Mackin, for putting up with my hatred of the Oxford comma.

  Without my awesome critique partners, Tina Joyce Beckett, Abby Niles, Christyne Butler, and Pamela Hearon, I would be lost. You are more than critique partners; you are a blessing from the good Lord above.

  For my children: Anthony, Marc, Marlayna, and Dylan. Thank you for not perpetuating the myth of the evil-teenager stereotypes.

  For my sisters, Tracey and Trisha, and all the nurses who give their love and compassion every day.

  For my pal, Johanna M. Kunkel. Miss you, Grandma.

  Chapter One

  KATE HENDERSON STOOD in the emergency room cubicle, adjusting her favorite tortoiseshell clip she’d shoved into the frizzy mass that was her hair. Her bloody, threadbare shirt barely covered her bra, and the Daisy Duke cut-offs she only wore to clean her bathtub pinched her backside.

  This was not how she envisioned meeting her new boss.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Lynette, the ER nurse preparing a solution of soap and water. “Did you say the on-call doctor is Dr. Jake Harris?”

  “Yup.” Lynette arched a brow, her garish blue eye shadow sparring with her bright red lips for attention. “Wait. You haven’t met him?”

  Kate glanced at her son Andrew—Drew since he’d turned thirteen a few months ago—hoping to latch onto some sense of normalcy. “Not yet.”

  “If he took over Dr. Stern’s old practice, doesn’t that mean you work for him?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been upstate the last two weeks.”

  “Ah.” Lynette removed the piece of Kate’s torn shirt Drew had been holding over his shin. “Well, trust me when I say you’re going to fall in love with him.”

  As Lynette cleaned out Drew’s wound, questions scattered Kate’s thoughts. Why was a private practice pediatrician stitching up kids in the emergency room? Seashore Cove Medical Center was a small-town hospital, but that was the ER doctor’s job. She’d have to call Gladys later and get the details on their new boss. Her dear friend and coworker had been uncharacteristically silent about him, with the exception of one word.

  Doogie.

  Whatever that meant.

  Lynette finished cleaning out Drew’s wound, then covered it with a stark white cloth. “Dr. Harris will be right in.”

  Kate chewed on her nails, a habit she’d developed in the last four years. Since William died. “This should be interesting.”

  “Aw, Ma, look at the bright side.”

  “Which is?”

  “I don’t know.” He buried his fingers into his thick, dark blond hair. “You’re the mom here. Shouldn’t you provide one?”

  Kate let out a huff. “Sure, make me do all the work.”

  He grinned, but it was forced. “Sorry, I just hate hospitals. You know that.”

  Yes, she did. She hated them, too, which was why she refused to go back to work as an ICU nurse. The sickeningly sweet smell, bright walls, and never-ending mayhem brought her back to when she practically lived at the hospital with William.

  Nurses scrambled from room to room. Occasionally, the intercom system drowned out the quiet moans. The summer burst with activity compared to the winter months. She hoped Alex, her older son, was okay, sitting alone in the waiting room. He was older than Drew by three years and remembered all too well visiting the hospital while his father slowly died.

  “Hey there, Andrew!”

  Snatching her index finger away from her greedy teeth, Kate studied the younger man who’d entered the room. Wearing a baseball cap, faded jeans, and a T-shirt, he fit into the stark hospital cubicle about as well as a spike-collared kitten in a doghouse.

  Whoever he was, she’d never seen him around town before. Kate had lived in Seashore Cove, Long Island, all her life, and, except for the summer months when it seemed to burst at the seams with vacationers, it remained a fairly small town. With his height and those looks, he would’ve stood out.

  “Hey.”

  “What happened, buddy?” The newcomer hopped up onto the bed beside her son. What was this? Some new peer group thing the hospital implemented to connect with teens?

  “I fell on a broken beer bottle.” Drew pulled his face into a sulk.

  The guy jumped off and propped his hands on his hips. “Andrew, were you drinking beer?”

  To Kate’s disbelief, her son laughed. “No! It was already on the ground.”

  Their guest stroked his chin, his fingers making a rasping sound as they slid over the stubble, then gave an affirmative nod. “Okay, then.” He snatched a pair of gloves from the box sitting on the counter and pulled them on before gently peeling t
he cloth aside to study Drew’s wound.

  Okay, new peer thing or not, no way in hell was some youth-group volunteer going to poke around on her son. “Um, excuse me, young man. We’re waiting for Dr. Harris.”

  “I am Dr. Harris.”

  Kate’s stomach dropped to her Sketchers. So that’s what Gladys meant. Doogie. As in Doogie Howser M.D., the vintage television show. Child prodigy. Genius. Ridiculously young to be a doctor. Gladys had a way of over-exaggerating everything—and this case was no exception. Dr. Harris wasn’t as young as the famous teenage doctor.

  He didn’t look that much older, either.

  The nervous smile he gave was reticent and boyish, as was the deep flush creeping up from his neck into his cheeks. If it weren’t for Lynette returning at that moment to have him sign a prescription, Kate never would’ve believed him.

  He had an air of fresh-faced innocence about him, but his sensual, masculine scent proclaimed, “I am a manly-man.”

  Then Dr. Harris’s gaze met hers, and she caught her breath. Bright gray eyes that reminded her of polished silver stared back at her. They traveled over her face, then lowered slightly to her lips before shifting away altogether.

  Those were not the eyes of a kid.

  The female part of her that hadn’t fluttered in the nearly four years since William died eagerly sprang to life, and she could only focus on one thing.

  This guy was her boss.

  “Holy shit. I mean, oh gosh—I’m so sorry!” She was sure her blush rivaled his.

  Dr. Harris’s mouth twitched at her less-than-professional response. “I get it all the time. I apologize for not introducing myself, but when I see a bummed out kid, I gotta make him laugh.”

  Drew turned to her. “Seriously, Mom, how cool is your new boss?”

  “New boss?” Dr. Harris arched an eyebrow. “Is that what the kids call pediatricians these days? I kinda like it.”

  Kate gulped, unaware she dug what was left of her nails into her son’s shirt until he scowled at her in alarm. “Uh, no. Only those I work for.”

  Dr. Harris inched back—away from her—then glanced at Drew’s file sitting on the cabinet beside the bed. His face changed from apprehension to surprise in a heartbeat. “You’re Kate Henderson?”

  With a self-conscious wave, she said, “Guilty.”

  “You work for me.” Even though he offered a friendly smile, his face paled and his deep baritone voice held a slight crack. “Dr. Stern promised you were the best. I’m optimistic we’ll be good together. I mean—work well together.”

  Much to her horror, her skin grew hotter, and her stomach had since climbed out of her sneakers to perform weird flip-flops. At least it had crawled back to where it belonged.

  He cleared his throat. “Having a nice vacation?”

  “I was until my child got hurt and I proceeded to mortally embarrass myself in front of the man who will hopefully still sign my paychecks.”

  Dr. Harris glanced at Drew. “Do you think your mom embarrassed herself?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Well, don’t pick on her too much.” He took a deep breath. “Buddy, I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to need stitches.”

  “Aw, man.” Drew buried his face in his hands.

  Kate rubbed his back. “Sweetie, look at the bright side. Now you have an awesome new story to tell your friends.”

  He raised his head and glared at her. “That’s your idea of a bright side?”

  She twisted her mouth in annoyance and muttered, “At least I had one.”

  “How about ‘chicks dig scars?’” Dr. Harris offered.

  Drew pointed a finger at him. “Now that’s a bright side.” He turned to the doctor. “Is it gonna hurt?”

  “Depends. How old are you?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, you should be fine. It’s no worse than getting tackled in football.”

  Boy, this guy was good.

  At the mention of his favorite sport, her son lit up. “You’re damn—er—daggone right.”

  Dr. Harris rolled the instrument cart next to Drew and removed the protective covering. He picked up the syringe and filled it with anesthetic.

  Drew grabbed onto her. So much for being a fearless teenager.

  Kate grasped her son’s hand, holding it against her stomach. His cold clammy skin against hers made her jump. Her shirt. Damn. She’d ripped a huge chunk off in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Her clandestine attempt to tug down the jagged hem went as well as her trying to wiggle her shorts out of her butt. Could her indignity get any worse?

  “Okay, pal.” The doctor sat on a stool, then rolled it over to the side of the bed. “I’m going to give you a shot to numb the pain. It’s going to sting with a little burn, but it won’t hurt long, okay?”

  Drew gulped. “Yeah.”

  “It’ll be over before ya know it. Right, Kate?”

  She’d been Kate for forty years, so why did her name suddenly sound like a seduction coming from his lips? She could only nod in response to his query, fearing her voice would tremble if she spoke. What the devil was wrong with her? What happened to the calm and poised woman her would-be suitors called Ms. Not-Interested Henderson?

  Dr. Harris squirted some of the medication into Drew’s wound before inserting the needle.

  “Ow!”

  “Just a few more seconds, bud.”

  Kate studied his hands. Strong and able, yet gentle, holding the syringe as if it were part of him.

  Dr. Harris extracted the needle. “There. You did great.”

  “Can I go home now?”

  That conjured a smile. “We’re not quite done yet. I have to sew you up.”

  “Can’t Mom do it?”

  “She can help if she wants.”

  On instinct, Kate released her son and went over to the sink just outside the cubicle to wash her hands, ignoring their slight tremble, and then pulled on a pair of gloves.

  The doctor strolled over and whispered in her ear, “Don’t say anything or the hospital admin will flip.”

  The soft timbre of his voice mixed with the sensual touch of his breath on her cheek. Kate paused, dazed by the erotic warmth it created. She absorbed the feeling for a moment before snapping herself out of her trance.

  With her focus on the sutures, she prepared them and then handed them to the doctor as he worked. By the time he was done, Drew chatted as if he spoke to a buddy he’d known for years.

  Dr. Harris stripped off his gloves and gave Drew a high five. “Your dad is going to be so proud you didn’t wuss out.”

  Kate swallowed past the instant lump in her throat. Even now, she found it so hard to accept her beloved William was gone.

  “My dad died.” Drew bit his lip.

  The doctor glanced at Kate and then back to her son. “Then I guess he already knows.”

  Drew was silent for a moment, playing with the edge of his bandage. “Can people sign this?”

  “I would advise against it.” Walking over to the sink, Dr. Harris washed his hands. After he dried them and made a note in the file, he stood beside Kate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your husband.”

  She offered a weak smile. “You mean you’ve been in Seashore Cove for a week and you don’t know everything there is to know about me?”

  He chuckled deep in his throat, an infectious, genuine sound. “I haven’t had much time to get to know anyone yet.” He held out his hand. “I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances.”

  His skin was smooth, grip firm, but she’d bet her favorite, Wal-mart special kitchen towels they’d be gentle. Lover’s hands.

  She pulled away when she realized where her thoughts were headed. To cover her abrupt behavior, she attacked a non-existent scratch on her arm.

  He studied her a moment then, as if he realized he was staring, cleared his throat, and turned to Drew. “Okay, buddy. I’ll remove those in about a week. In the meantime, no fooling around.”r />
  “Aw, man. I can’t play football?”

  “No way.”

  Drew folded his arms across his chest, his face contorting into a pout worthy of a four-year-old. “Now I’ll never make the team.”

  “Yeah, you will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I was a football coach. I can tell dedication when I see it.”

  Her son’s face lit up like he’d been offered keys to MetLife Stadium. “Really? That’s so cool.”

  The doctor playfully swatted the top of Drew’s head with the manila folder. “Do as I say and you’ll make the team.”

  “Okay, Coach.” He dangled his legs over the side of the exam table and gingerly got to his feet. “Mom?”

  Kate rushed to her son’s side, then turned to Dr. Harris, hoping her voice sounded light and cheerful. “I’ll see you Monday.”

  When they entered the waiting room, she searched out her oldest son. She found him sitting in a corner staring vacuously at the TV. As soon as Alex saw them, he jumped to his feet. “Is he okay?”

  At the fear on his face, she hurried to reassure him. He had been through so much in his sixteen years.

  “He’s fine.”

  Alex’s shoulders relaxed. “Of course he is. He practically lives in the emergency room.”

  “Yeah, but I never had stitches before.” Drew showed off his bandage.

  “Great. While you’re in there getting stitches, I’m out here watching soap operas.

  “Oh, wow, sorry, dude. I’m not sure which is worse.”

  Drew took great delight in retelling the story of Kate’s humiliation on the drive from the hospital. Hearing Alex’s hysterical laughter didn’t do much to ease the tension in her jaw.

  “Really, Mom? You called your boss ‘young man?’”

  “Oh, hush. I could’ve called him worse.”

  “True, you could have called him ‘Hon’ like you call everyone else.”

  With her hands white-knuckling the wheel, she ignored her son’s heckling and turned into the parking lot of the local strip mall, settling for a spot a fair distance away from the Bayview Pharmacy. Summer was both a blessing and a curse for her small town. The Hamptons crowd dumped a lot of business into their economy, but it was a madhouse from Memorial Day until after Labor Day.