by Black, Regan
Praise for Regan Black:
"Fans wanting an exciting something different starring a marvelous heroine
will appreciate Regan Black’s terrific tales..."
--Harriet Klausner, Amazon Top Reviewer on the Shadows of Justice series
"The Matchmaker's Mark is a rare, light-hearted paranormal romance that will be loved by fans of both Nora Roberts and Kresley Cole."--Jordan, Beta Reviewer
"Regan Black has a certain edgy quality to her writing...It's just awesome to read."
--Deborah, The Bookish Dame
The Matchmaker's Mark
By Regan Black
Copyright 2011 © Regan Black
Cover art by Karl Warren
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
without express permission in writing from the author.
Chapter One
My dearest Amy,
How are you and Guinness doing? I can't imagine how a skinny little greyhound might feel in that wicked Nebraska winter. Should I send him some snow boots? Surely you are settled in and pampering each other after six months together.
I'm so sorry I missed you and the family at the holidays, business was unusually crazy this year.
Be on the lookout for a package from me, darling, you will absolutely treasure it! Above all take good care of yourself (and Guinness, of course).
All my love,
Auntie Camille
Lily Parker was in her element. Almost completely. Surrounded by flowers and serenaded by the bell above her door as customers walked in and out of her florist shop, she felt as radiant as her own beam of sunshine. She wrapped up the sale and murmured a blessing over the blooms as another happy customer left.
January wasn't typically her best sales month, but her regulars kept her company and she always enjoyed the respite after the rush of the holidays. She'd tweaked the display window yesterday and patted herself on the back, since her register had been ringing steadily since.
Through that window she smiled at the woman on the street. The potential customer was currently admiring the sweet baskets of daisies flanking a stunning array of white tulips Lily's wholesaler had brought in just for her. Then Lily spotted the dog.
She pushed open the shop door. "What a beautiful greyhound."
"Thanks. This is Guinness." The woman at the other end of the leash was pretty in an understated way, but her proud smile lit up her face as her dog leaned forward, eager to bask in any and all attention.
Lily chuckled. "Isn't he a character?" She let him sniff her knuckles and considered herself approved when he ducked his head under her palm so she could scratch his ears. "Is he a rescue?"
"Yes. From an Iowa track. We've been together about six months."
"That's wonderful. I'm Lily, by the way."
"Amy."
Lily took in the open coat and glove-free hands and pegged Amy for a snowbird, or possibly the cruise lines were doing a new promotion. "I didn't know they allowed dogs on the cruises." The other woman blinked, her smile giving way to confusion. "Forgive me. You're not a tourist?" Having lived here so long, she knew the faces of most of the locals.
"Yes. Well no. Not officially."
"That's what I get for assuming," Lily said, cooing over Guinness until the woman relaxed again. She usually read people with uncanny precision, but lately, it was as if she was a half step out of sync. "Would Guinness like a drink of water?"
Amy snorted. "He'd like anything that involves more attention."
"Well come on in."
"Your shop is lovely." Amy held Guinness at the door, her gaze scanning the displays with sincere appreciation.
Lily sensed a kindred spirit, or at least some common interests. "There's not a thing in here he can hurt," she insisted. "I'll just go get a water bowl."
Connecting with new people was the best part of her job. She thought of it as her calling. It gave her such a rush to find out what they needed, how her flowers might brighten a day or mark a memorable, romantic moment. Feeling connected professionally kept her mind off her bleak personal prospects of romance.
She returned to the showroom, bowl and water bottle in hand, pleased to see Amy admiring her cooler while Guinness seemed curious about a stuffed teddy bear tucked next to a planter.
Lily thought of her cooler as an evolving painting, as well as a testing ground for how long she could keep a flower fresh in various stages of design. She'd once kept a carnation going for three weeks, but so far she couldn't keep an orchid fresh beyond its normal life expectancy of a few days.
"Here's some refreshment for Guinness," she said, willing her mind away from her flaws.
The dog sniffed at the water before lapping it up with the enthusiasm of a broken lawn sprinkler.
Amy started to apologize for his sloppy manners, but Lily cut her off. "Don't worry about it. This place can take it. Water's just one of many job hazards."
"You're the owner?"
Lily beamed. "Primary designer and head janitor, too. It keeps me humble."
"Well you've got a brilliant gift." She waved a hand between the front window and the cooler.
"Thank you." Lily smiled. "Spring's my favorite season. Typical for a flower child like me." She laughed at herself. "And just around the corner."
"Around the corner?"
"Oh, February will be brown and bland, but come March things will start budding and popping with color and it won't stop until –" She stopped short. She was as exuberant with the seasons as Guinness had been with the water. "Well not until next February, really."
"Sounds heavenly."
"The excessive humidity and nine months of hawk-sized mosquitoes are the tradeoff," Lily confessed in a stage whisper.
The bells on the door danced and Lily turned her welcome smile toward Jim, the lead cop who patrolled King Street during the day. "I've got your order ready." She moved around Guinness to pull a box of roses out of the cooler. "I'll be right back," she said to Amy.
"Good looking dog," Jim said, letting Guinness get his scent and head butt his hand. "Busy day?" he called back to Lily. He moved closer to the register and whistled when he got a look at the roses. "Oh, my wife will love these."
Lily felt a little sting on the inside of her wrist and rubbed it, annoyed that she'd managed to catch a thorn even through her long sleeved shirt.
The bells jingled again, announcing the arrival of the owner of the cupcake bakery two doors down. "Morning, Lily."
"Hey, Belinda. Your order's all set on the back counter."
"Thanks, so much. I'll just put these red velvets in your fridge."
"Oh, today is a good day," Lily said with a grin, earning agreement from Jim. Bartering with other King Street businesses was just one of many perks of her location. Ringing up the order, allowing for the community discount, her shopkeeper's eye roamed over Amy and Guinness to another new arrival.
"Guess it's going to be a busy day after all. Have a great anniversary, Jim." The cop nodded and left, the box tucked under his arm. He looked casual, but Lily appreciated the vigilance he applied to her modest business as well as the rest of the neighborhood.
The newest customer stood tall and lean, and she felt an odd tremor of familiarity. She did a double take to verify she'd never seen him before. His jaw was shadowed by a day's growth of beard and his dark, windblown hair was a little too long, curling
a bit around the sunglasses he'd pushed to the top of his head. He didn't have the typical, hang dog look of a guy searching for a way to mend a rift with a woman, which made a flower shop a strange place to stop in.
She smiled at him. "Shopping for anyone in particular?"
He shook his head and gave her a half smile that put her hormones on alert. "Just looking."
When Belinda came back through the shop, carting a box of bud vases and a big bag of rose petals, he moved to open the door for her and followed her out without a word.
Lily stared after him. Weird. She'd call down later and see if the baker was training someone new. Rubbing absently at her arm, she rejoined Amy and Guinness. "So what can I do for you?"
Amy grimaced. "Tell me the secret to keeping flowers fresh. I can hardly keep a silk plant looking healthy."
Flower secrets, well, all of nature's secrets, should've been as easy as breathing for Lily. Since it wasn't that simple, she basked in the praise and tried not to blush. "It comes down to trimming the stems and keeping the arrangement watered," she offered the easiest advice first. "There are certainly specific flower options that will last awhile." Wanting to honor the connection she felt with Amy, she looked around her shop. "Where are you staying?"
"With a friend. I'm mixing business and pleasure this winter." She stroked her greyhound's ears. "My friend has been absolutely amazing to welcome us both."
"Does your friend live here? Downtown," Lily clarified.
Amy nodded. "She's in a neighborhood near the college. Why?"
"Hmmm." Lily considered the options in her cooler. "You should have this." She pulled out a French blue basket filled with yellow button mums, white daisies and a splash of purple statice. Springtime in a basket, she thought. "It's a perfect breakfast table centerpiece."
"Wow! This would just light up Maeve's kitchen. How much?"
"Did you say Maeve?" Lily carried the arrangement toward the register counter. "Do you mean Maeve King?"
Amy nodded, a blend of surprise and 'stranger-danger' worry flitting over her face. "How did you know?"
"Oh, it's a pretty close town. This arrangement's definitely on the house if you're a friend of Maeve's. Consider it a thank you for introducing me to Guinness." She grinned. "He really brightened my day."
Amy turned Guinness's long nose away from the teddy bear. "I've heard of Charleston hospitality, but I'd feel better if I paid for it."
Lily shook her head. "Don't worry. Maeve, or rather her busy social life, keeps me in business. Besides, it's a day old already. Don't tell anyone," she said with a wink, "but I dawdled in the back with my wholesaler." She murmured a little charm over the blooms to keep them fresh and the women happy as she wrapped layers of protective paper over the arrangement.
"She'll love it, if can I get her to open it."
"Is she the sort who refuses to tear into a gift? I didn't know that."
Amy grinned, relaxed again. "It was a shock that first Christmas in college, but we've managed to stay best friends despite her irregularities."
Lily laughed, liking Amy more with every passing minute. "I met Maeve after a particularly busy weekend. It seemed my delivery driver had filled her office to bursting and she wanted to meet me." She glanced at the door when the bell jingled again. Jim's partner walked in, with a face only a florist could love. "Another tiff?" He stared at the floor. "Give me a minute to finish up here." She turned back to Amy. "So how long are you in town?"
"Through the spring semester. We're teaching an interim class on Romeo and Juliet and I'll guest lecture between bouts of developing a new creative writing curriculum."
"That's fantastic. Will you be presenting the play to the public?"
"Not a chance." Amy's snort caused Guinness's ears to perk, making Lily chuckle at them both. "It's more about digging into the subtext of the story than the performance."
"Ah." Lily nudged the wrapped flowers across the counter. "Please tell Maeve I said hello."
"Will do." Amy sighed and shook her head. "I'm going to take a picture of these and send it to my assistant. It might give her hope to carry on through the remaining snowy months back home."
"Be sure to come by anytime you want to chat or anything." Lily murmured adoring nonsense to Guinness and waved goodbye as the pair left her shop. Empty water bowl in hand, she faced Jim's partner. "What happened now?"
He brought her up to speed while she reached for the first aid kit under the counter. Pulling back her sleeve, she stifled a gasp. The skin around the birthmark on her left wrist was irritated all right, but not by a simple thorn. Unwilling to consider the most likely possibilities and ramifications, she smeared anti-itch cream on it and pulled her sleeve back in place, grateful for the distraction of how to get her customer out of the doghouse this time.
Later, when the closed sign was posted, she'd take time to think about the magic she'd obviously missed in the process of doing business like a normal person.
~*~
Amy left Lily's shop, arrangement in hand, her wool coat open to the lovely air, and Guinness matching her stride. It was one more ideal moment since arriving in Charleston. This daily lunch hour stroll was becoming one of her favorite activities. The sunshine and friendly people combined in an incredibly invigorating, purely delightful cure for her Midwestern winter blahs.
She greeted perfect strangers, trying to remember the last time a January smile hadn't been hidden behind a scarf and thick layer of lip balm.
"This is how winter should be," she said to Guinness, beaming like an idiot at a passing bike messenger. A native Charlestonian, she thought, catching the sincere smile, leather gloves, and thick sweater topped with a polar fleece vest.
She managed not to laugh. January in South Carolina was downright balmy compared to the foot of snow and bitter winds whipping across the University of Nebraska campus right about now. A messenger on a ten speed wouldn't stand a chance this time of year.
At Maeve's warning about cold temperatures, Amy had brought along a sweater for Guinness, but so far, he hadn't needed it.
When Guinness paused at the cupcake bakery Amy was happy her hands were full of flowers and leash. It made resisting the sweet temptation easier while the greyhound took his time snuffling at the bright pansies filling the planters flanking the door.
A man grinned, pausing on his way inside. "Gorgeous dog."
"Thanks," Amy replied. Guinness did his 'never-met-a-stranger' thing and soaked up all the available attention while she answered a few questions about the breed and the adoption programs.
"We might just have to make this interim thing permanent," she told Guinness as they resumed their journey to Maeve's house. Being a dog-friendly city only made Charleston more appealing. Besides, people here seemed to care, to actually want the answers to the typical small talk questions.
An interesting difference from the more stoic, polite approach of home. She mused on the topic as she left the shopping district behind, aiming for Maeve's neighborhood. It was several blocks, but the brisk, fresh air was an amazing treat in January, even more delightful with the scent of the harbor tickling her nose. It was almost disappointing to reach Maeve's place in the Hailstone Village neighborhood.
Inside, she toed out of her shoes and unclipped Guinness' leash, hanging it on the hall tree, under her coat. Padding into the kitchen, she deposited the wrapped arrangement on the breakfast table and smiled, anticipating Maeve's reaction.
Her friend, lover of all things beautiful, would be tickled by the flowers, even though they weren't from a handsome admirer. Men sent Maeve roses, lilies, sometimes tulips. Usually vased, always extravagant. As soon as Maeve saw the simple basket, she'd know the flowers weren't likely from any current admirer, so Amy decided to prolong the suspense. If she could ignore the agony while Maeve did her 'preserve-the-lovely-paper' routine.
Hearing footsteps on the porch, Amy rushed to open the door, one hand on Guinness' collar, a smile for Maeve on her face.
&nb
sp; "Oh," she said, forgetting the flowers, and nearly everything else. Not Maeve. Instead she met the clear gaze of a man with a vaguely familiar face. He was tall; she had to look up to meet his eyes when he stopped on the last step. Beside her, Guinness' tail thumped happily against the hall tree. "Can I help you?"
The author inside Amy took mental notes. Brown hair, highlighted by sunshine, which seemed out of place this time of year. You're in the South, not the Midwest, she reminded herself. His eyes, a warm brown, were shadowed by dark circles. His smile seemed sincere, but weary at the edges. Maeve insisted Charleston was a safe community so Amy relaxed her grip on the door and tried to think hospitable thoughts. He was probably a friend of Maeve's anyway.
"Good day. I'm Darian Knoll. Would Amy Campbell be in residence?"
She was stuck on the formal 'Good day' to the point of nearly missing his use of her name. "Pardon me?"
"Amy Campbell? I've a message for her."
Amy stared, trying to remember where she'd seen his face. He wasn't in any sort of uniform, didn't hold a clipboard, an envelope, or even one of those electronic tracking thingies the express services used. She looked beyond him for a bike or car, anything to validate his presence. Then it hit her. He'd been at the flower shop. A chill skated down her spine. "She's not here."
He arched a brow and she bristled at his arrogant assumption of her lie.
"Who are you?" She cleared her throat, reached for the calm voice she used in the lecture hall. "Do you have a card? I'll give her a message."
"Darian Knoll," he repeated, frowning. "I've followed you –"
"What?" That was just creepy. She wasn't the sort of female men followed. "I think you've got the wrong address," she mumbled, easing the door closed.
Guinness whined, the opportunity to make a new friend denied. "Some people are strangers," she whispered as she backed away from the door. She couldn't pinpoint it, but there was something off about the guy. She just knew she didn't want to hear what he had to say. "Go away, go away," she murmured the words like a mantra until she heard his footsteps leaving the porch.
