Crazy Little Thing Called Matchmaking Read online

  And by the way he gulped, he concurred. “I appreciate your support.”

  Kate’s face burned. God, she felt stupid. With her nerves on edge, she filled the cup with sugar and offered it to him. Their hands touched. They both jerked. The cup fell to the floor, shattering and spilling sugar.

  “Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” they said in unison.

  They bent down at the same time.

  “Here, let me,” he said.

  “I’ve got it.” Kate reached for the broken pieces of pottery.

  “No, it was my fault.”

  “Dr. Harris, it’s okay—”

  He grabbed her hand. “Kate.”

  Her heart pounded from him being so close, his cologne or soap or whatever that fragrance was made her brain go all gooey. For a moment, the innocent kid was gone, replaced by a sexy, virile male. “Yes?”

  “Would you do me a favor?”

  She studied his eyes, suddenly all serious and intense. She’d hadn’t noticed the long, dark lashes that framed them, adding to his youthful appearance. She cleared her throat. “Okay.”

  “Will you please call me Jake? When you call me Dr. Harris, I think you’re talking to my father.”

  Kate’s gaze lowered to their entwined hands, wondering why she didn’t pull away. “Your father is a doctor, too?”

  “Yeah.”

  Laughing nervously, she tugged free of his grip, scooping up some of the sugar into the largest piece of the broken cup. “My dad was a doctor, and my sister is a midwife. My other sister is a bartender, and my brother is an accountant.”

  Jake stared at her as if she’d, just this second, lost her mind. “That’s fascinating.”

  What was fascinating? Her family history or the fact that she was so obviously babbling? “I guess I’ll need a dustpan for the rest.” She got to her feet.

  Jake rose as well. “I’m really sorry. All I wanted was sugar for my coffee.”

  Kate grabbed a small cup from the cabinet and filled it with sugar. Placing it on the counter, she pushed it toward him with her index finger.

  He grinned and picked it up. “Thanks. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  The front door slammed.

  “Hey, Mom?” Drew shrieked. “Alex is kicking their—Coach!”

  “Hey, sport.” A high-five.

  Her son limped to the refrigerator. “Do you have to go to work, Mom?”

  Kate dumped the last of the spilled sugar into the trash. “No, honey, why do you ask?”

  “I was just wondering why the coach is here.” He unscrewed the cap to a bottle of water.

  “Dr. Harris just bought the Goldbergs’ house.”

  Drew took the bottle away from his mouth and swallowed quickly. “No way. You’re only staying for the summer?”

  “I’ll be here year-round,” Jake said. “So maybe I can give you a few pointers on how to wow your football coach.”

  “Like today? Now?”

  Jake chuckled. “Sure. But give an old man time to drink his coffee, okay?”

  “Awesome! I gotta go tell Alex.” Her son hobbled out.

  “Old man?” Kate shook her head. “Please.”

  “Well, to him, I’m ancient.”

  “Uh huh.” She leaned against the counter, staring at the contents of her coffee pot. “Why don’t you have some coffee? Mine is already done, and if I know my son, he’ll be at your door every five minutes checking to see if you’re ready to play.”

  Jake held up the cup in his hand. “Can I keep the sugar?”

  She laughed. “Definitely.”

  ***

  “You did awesome, bro!”

  Alex turned to Drew, sitting alone at the edge of their lawn, his injured leg propped out in front of him, and gave him a thumb’s up. He and a few of the neighborhood kids had been playing football, but with the uneven teams, it hadn’t been a fair match. Leave it to Drew, though, to make him look like a god even when he’d gotten his ass handed to him.

  Using his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, Alex turned to his buddy, Hugh McMahon, as they joined Jeremy Caruso and his cousins Eric and Bart. “That was the lamest game of touch I’ve ever played.”

  “Yeah, because you lost.” Jeremy tossed him the ball.

  “No, because it’s true.” He threw the ball back. “With Drew laid up—”

  “We still would’ve beaten you,” Bart said with a snicker.

  Alex caught the ball again, but held it this time, the hairs on the back of his neck rising like a cat about to pounce. “Watch it, man.”

  Eric eased the ball from between Alex’s gripping fingers. “It’s cool, dude. It’s not like we don’t understand.”

  Instead of his words calming him, Alex’s spine went more rigid. “What’s to understand?”

  “Well, you know… our dad taught us how to play. And since Drew doesn’t have one—”

  “Dude, shut the fuck up!” Jeremy slapped his cousin in the head.

  “What? It’s not like I’m revealing some big secret.”

  “What secret? That you’re a dick?” Alex fumed. Jeremy’s cousins always did this. They were cool enough guys, but they had a knack for making him and Drew seem beneath them somehow because they didn’t have a father.

  “I don’t have a father, either, and I can wipe the pavement with your sorry ass any day of the week.”

  Bart shrugged. “I guess you’re just a natural.”

  Alex’s response was cut off when the shrill ring of Mrs. Caruso’s shout raced up the block.

  “C’mon, guys, we gotta go.” Bart lightly punched Alex’s shoulder. “I’m sorry if I upset you. We’re cool, right?”

  “Yeah, we’re cool.” Alex pounded his fist.

  How could he stay mad? Everyone treated him and his brother different since Dad died. Mom, too. Eric and Bart were just too stupid to keep quiet about it.

  Life used to be normal. Now they were no longer Alex and Andrew Henderson. They were those boys whose dad died.

  Alex watched his buddies hurry up the block, but his eyes drifted over to Drew, staring at the ground in front of him. On the sidelines. Again.

  When it came to video games, Drew could run with the best ofthem. And damned if he didn’t know how to chat up girls. But sports? Wow, he just sucked. And Alex couldn’t help but feel that if Dad were here Drew would be good at them, too.

  “Hey, bro, think fast!” Alex sailed the football through the air.

  Drew’s eyes never left the ball as it came toward him. Even though Alex had thrown a perfect pass, it hit his brother’s chest and bounced onto the grass next to him.

  “Oh, man.” Drew rubbed the center of his T-shirt.

  Alex jogged over and patted his back. “It’s okay. It’s hard to catch a ball when you’re sitting.”

  “I’ll never be as good as you.” He flopped back onto the lawn.

  Alex plopped down next to him. “Dad taught me how to catch. He was the best at football.”

  “I wish he was here. Maybe Dr. Harris can show me.”

  Hmm, now that was an idea. Uncle Rob and Uncle Logan helped when they could, but they didn’t come around all that much. Dr. Harris lived right next door. He was good with kids if Drew’s obvious devotion was anything to go by, and he used to be a coach.

  Double-hmm.

  “So you like Dr. Harris, huh?” Alex asked.

  “He’s real cool.” Drew sat up on his elbows, his eyes rounded in excitement. “When I asked him to play with us, all I could think was ‘I bet he says no. Grown-ups always say no,’ but he didn’t! He was like totally into the idea.”

  Alex warmed at the happiness on his brother’s face. Drew had missed out on so much time with Dad. Alex sometimes felt a little guilty that he remembered their father better and had him almost three years longer.

  Guilty. Sad. Worried. When did he get to be happy? What about Drew? Mom?

  Alex hated hearing her cry at night.

  Thankfully, his brother didn’t know abou
t it. If he did, it would freak him out for sure. But Drew’s bedroom was on the first floor behind the dining room while his was across from the master bedroom on the second floor.

  Alex had tried to take his dad’s place with Mom, too, but some things he couldn’t do. Like take her out on a date or make her smile in that special way whenever Dad told her how beautiful she was.

  His thoughts were interrupted when their front door opened and Dr. Harris stepped out. Drew shrieked as he leapt up, hopping on his uninjured leg.

  The doctor jogged over, but before he even reached them, Drew was talking his ear off.

  Alex went over to greet their neighbor. Dr. Harris shook his hand, making Alex feel like an equal, not just some teenager who happened to live next door. And the way he treated Drew? Awesome—like they’d been buddies forever. Dr. Harris listened to every word, never once trying to shut Drew up like most people did.

  Yeah, he liked this guy.

  Even with Drew’s limited movement, Dr. Harris showed him how to catch and the proper way to throw. By the time lunch rolled around, sweat dotted their T-shirts and their stomachs raged a battle over whose could growl the loudest.

  “Come on, Coach, Mom won’t mind if you eat lunch with us,” Drew persisted as he dragged him toward their front path.

  “It’s her day off. She doesn’t need extra work.”

  “Aw, she won’t care. She told me moms never get a day off.”

  “That doesn’t mean we have to make more work for her.”

  If Alex knew his brother at all, Dr. Harris wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. “Come on, dude, leave him alone. Besides, Mom’s at the door, so lunch is already made.”

  At the mention of their mother, Dr. Harris turned toward the house, studied her for a second, and then quickly turned away. “You’d better go. I don’t want her getting mad at me.”

  Alex’s mouth dropped open. He’d seen that look before—on his Dad’s face whenever Mom wore something dressy. Or sexy. Blech!

  Maybe Dr. Harris had the hots for Mom—ew, ew, ewwwwaahhh!

  Drew laughed. “She can’t get mad at you. You’re her boss.”

  “Not at home. Now, go.”

  His younger brother hopped up the front steps past their mother without saying a word. She focused on Alex, her brow raised.

  “He’s upset because Dr. Harris won’t have lunch with us. He said it would be too much work for you.”

  Kate shifted her gaze to the doctor. “There’s plenty, if you want to stay.”

  He studied his feet. “I already hit you up for coffee—”

  A booming “Please!” echoed from inside the house, making Mom jump and clutch her chest.

  A grin formed on Dr. Harris’s face. “Okay.”

  “Cool!” Alex entered the foyer and stood behind his mother. Observing her reaction, the doctor’s reaction, anything that would prove his thoughts were on the right track.

  Coach walked up to the door, running his hand over his sweaty shirt. “I’m not exactly dressed for lunch.”

  “Oh, please,” she protested with a wave of her hand. “Do my sons look any better? We’re pretty informal here.”

  “Thanks.” He brushed past her.

  Mom closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before turning to the doctor again. “It’s really no big deal, Dr. Harris. It’s just tuna salad.”

  “Didn’t I ask you to call me Jake?”

  She smiled, her eyes focused on her fingers twisting her wedding ring. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry...?”

  Her smile broadened, and she met his eyes. “Sorry, Jake.”

  “Much better.”

  And just like that, a plan formed in Alex’s head. Dr. Harris obviously liked Mom. He was single. Drew liked him.

  All through lunch Alex made a mental list of things Mom and Dr. Harris had in common. The medical field. Check. Their love of plants. Check. Both liked to cook. Check. They hated reality shows. Check. Both Mets fans. Mega check. They both thought Billy Joel was the voice of Long Island. Super, mega, double-dog-flip check.

  The list grew, but one thing stood out above all the others.

  Dr. Harris made Mom blush.

  His mother was what his friends called a badass. She was cool, but didn’t take any shit from anyone. And here she was blushing, like the shy girls did whenever he talked to them.

  Interesting.

  After bidding Dr. Harris goodbye, Alex helped clean up the dishes, then hurried to his brother’s room.

  “Hey, dude, can I come in?”

  Drew nodded without taking his eyes off his game.

  Alex entered, avoiding the slew of Game Informer magazines, clothes, and papers littering the floor. In contrast to the disarray of the rest of the room, the video game center was pristine. Not a bit of dust or a case out of place. The games were sorted into categories and alphabetized.

  “Pause that a sec?”

  His brother pushed a button before turning to him. “You wanna play?”

  “No, I want to talk to you about something.” Alex straightened the unmade sheets, then sat down on the bed. “Today was epic, huh?”

  “More like super epic.”

  “Dr. Harris is awesome.”

  “Totally.”

  “Do you think he likes Mom?”

  “Of course he does. Everyone likes Mom.”

  Alex cleared his throat and turned on the bed, looking his brother full in the face. “But do you think he likes her enough to kiss her?”

  Drew’s mouth twisted and spit out a disgusted blech.

  “What if he did kiss her?” Alex went on. “What if they fell in love and got married?”

  “We’d have a stepdad.” His brother’s face brightened. “Do you think that might happen?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Maybe we could make them fall in love."

  Alex shook his head. “Don’t be dense. You can’t make people fall in love, but we could try to get them together.”

  “How?”

  “Remember when I was stuck in the waiting room the other day watching soap operas? Within forty-five minutes, two couples got together. I bet if I watched them, they would give us some ideas on how to get Mom and Coach together.”

  “Yeah,” Drew said with enthusiasm. “People are having sex all the time on those shows.”

  Alex jumped off the bed. “Okay, first of all, ew! Second, let’s just focus on getting them to like each other.” He opened the door and turned to his brother. “But don’t blab to anyone. If Mom and Dr. Harris know what we’re doing, they’ll get all adult and stuff and tell us to butt out or something.”

  “Okay.” Drew went back to his game.

  Alex had given up thinking his mom would find someone on her own, although he suspected there’d been many offers. Even though it grossed him out, older guys might find her attractive. Enough to want to take her out and—what was the term?—‘sweep her off her feet.’

  He missed Dad so bad, but he knew Dad would want Mom to move on. Would want her to find happiness with someone.

  A lump formed in his throat at the thought of his father, but he swallowed it. Men didn’t cry. They took action.

  Yes. The time had come for an intervention. Time for him and Drew to help her find someone.

  Alex smiled. It’s what Dad would want him to do.

  Chapter Four

  JAKE HADN’T REALIZED he’d been pacing the main reception area until Kate walked in. Fear, anxiety, anticipation—he wasn’t quite sure what had him circling until it all came together to form a lump in his gut. He covered by glancing at the clock. “Right on time.”

  She tossed her purse under the counter, then faced him with a grin. “I’m rarely late. If I am, you can rest assured it’s not my fault.”

  While his new employee spoke, he studied her: hair at the nape of her neck in a tidy bun, make-up done, and bright blue scrubs crisp. Professional and aloof.

  He hated it.

  “Jake?”
<
br />   “Yes?” He blinked her back into focus.

  “I asked if you wanted some coffee.”

  “Oh, uh, yes, please. I’ll get it.”

  She headed for the small kitchen. “I can manage. I’m getting some for myself anyway.”

  He hurried to his private office, wanting to kick himself. This sucked. Sure, she was sexy and gorgeous and had the voice of a phone-sex operator, but he was in charge here. The boss shouldn’t act like a teenager on Viagra. That combination could change the force of gravity.

  Sitting behind his desk, he flipped through his messages, wishing he’d chosen a more impressive shirt and tie instead of the Pokémon tee and faded jeans.

  Kate poked her head in. “How many sugars do you take?”

  Don’t look at her. “Four.”

  “Four. Right. No wonder you had to beg some off me,” she muttered as she left.

  After a few minutes, Kate returned and placed his beverage on his desk. He took a sip. Perfect. Just like Saturday.

  “Your first patient is in room one.”

  One more gulp, a trip to the bathroom, and he was ready to start his day. He stood outside room one, lifting five-year-old Sherry Golden’s folder from the file holder hanging on the door.

  He studied the chart, then searched for Kate. She stood in the small lab area, pulling a vial from the cabinet above the sink.

  “Is that Sherry’s chicken pox vaccine?”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He took the vial and turned to leave.

  “Jake, don’t you want me to administer the shot?”

  He stopped and faced to her, choosing his words carefully. “I like to give the younger children their immunizations.”

  “Dr. Stern always had the nurses do it.”

  “Kids get scared.” He shrugged. “I can calm them.”

  Kate’s eyebrows shot up as she crossed her arms. “And you don’t think I can?”

  “Do children cry when you give them a shot?”

  “Of course, it hurts.”

  At her condescending response, Jake clenched his jaw. “Come with me.”