The Matchmakers' Daddy (Bayside Bachelors #4)

by Judy Duarte

  Brett slipped an arm around Caitlin and drew her close. “I’ll probably be worse.”

  Just as Zack had told her, the Tanners seemed like a loving and likable couple. And after the first flutter of nerves upon meeting them, Diana found them both easy to talk to.

  The afternoon progressed smoothly, even without Harry and Kay to supervise and help Diana feel at ease.

  The women prepared a buffet table, setting out paper plates, napkins and plastic utensils. Then they began to load it down with salads, chips, condiments, buns and a Crock-Pot filled with beans.

  Brett and Joe jumped in to keep the kids entertained, while Zack flipped hot dogs and burgers over the grill.

  Diana carried out a clean platter, on which he could place the cooked meat. And although Zack seemed to be diligently watching over the sizzling burgers, his eyes continued to dart toward the children, toward the laughter and play.

  A flood of warmth settled in Diana’s chest. She may have had concerns before, but after meeting his friends and watching Zack with his own little girl and doing his best to fit in, she felt much better about his influence on her daughters.

  Of course, to complicate matters further, her attraction to him was deepening and she couldn’t help wondering if maybe she was that “someone special” Caitlin had mentioned Zack needed.

  Hanging out with Harry and the guys had always been a pleasant experience, and with each outing or get-together, Zack was made to feel more and more welcome. But this was the first time he’d actually considered himself one of Logan’s Heroes. As weird as it sounded, he seemed to really fit in today.

  As the afternoon drifted into evening, Kay called home several times, first letting everyone know Hailey had been admitted to the hospital and was in active labor.

  The next piece of news revealed that since Hailey was only three weeks early, the obstetrician didn’t appear to be worried about either her or the baby. Kay also reported that Nick had finally arrived, looking every bit as haggard and flighty as the nervous expectant father the guys had claimed he’d become.

  By the time the kitchen had been cleaned up, the grill had cooled down and all but three couples had gone home, Harry called to say that after a quick and uneventful labor, he and Kay had a brand-new grandson. And, he added, Nick and Hailey had decided to name the six-pound-two-ounce infant Harry Logan Granger.

  Joe Davenport, who’d taken that phone call, said the retired detective had actually choked back happy tears.

  It had been Joe’s idea to pop a bottle of champagne, and Zack wondered whether Diana would have a glass or if she considered alcohol, even in moderation, a vice. After all, his experience with ladies like her was limited.

  But interestingly enough, she was the only woman who accepted a flute of the bubbly drink. Kristin Davenport, who was expecting twins, opted for soda. And Caitlin, with a flush to her cheeks, did the same, announcing that she and Brett were having a baby, too.

  Wow.

  Zack wondered how many little kids would be running around in the not-so-distant future. And, of those, how many would boast having one form of Harry’s name or another.

  They all lifted their glasses in a toast to little Harry Granger and his family. As the sound of clinking crystal filled the room, Zack felt as though he had something to celebrate, too, but he’d be damned if he knew exactly what.

  The fact that Diana hadn’t labeled him a loser?

  The fact that she fit right in with the others and somehow validated his true acceptance into the group?

  The adults who’d remained at Harry’s house—the Davenports, the Tanners, along with Zack and Diana—sat just off the kitchen, in the family room, chatting and laughing about one thing or another. The children, Emily, Diana’s daughters and Bobby Davenport, had long since gone into the den to watch the Disney Channel on TV. And while Zack latched on to the glow, the warmth and the easy camaraderie of people who were becoming his friends, his eyes continued to light on Diana, to make sure she was comfortable hanging around when others had already left.

  She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself.

  But when she finished her champagne, he thought it would be a good idea to offer her the option of leaving.

  “Did you want to stay a bit longer?” he asked her. “Or are you ready to go home?”

  Home.

  If Zack was prone to fantasy, he could almost imagine that he and Diana were a couple, planning to take their daughters to a house they shared and turn in for the night.

  “Sure. We probably should. It’s getting late.” She got up from her seat on Harry’s easy chair and headed for the kitchen, where she rinsed her glass in the sink. Then she disappeared down the hall toward the den.

  Zack followed her lead, intending to wash out his own glass and set it on the counter.

  At the sink, Caitlin sidled up to him and nudged him with her elbow. “Diana says you’re just friends.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  Caitlin broke into a playful grin. “I’ll give that friendship about a week.”

  Zack’s gut clenched.

  Had Caitlin suspected that Diana was going to break things—or whatever—off with Zack in less than a week?

  Well, not that they were dating. Or even seeing each other in that sense. But, if he wanted to be honest, especially with himself, he had to admit the thought of something more than friendship with Diana had crossed his mind.

  But did Caitlin think the single mom and church secretary was too good for an ex-con?

  His gaze pounced on hers like a man overboard reaching for a life preserver that had been tossed into rough seas. “Why do you say that?”

  Caitlin’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. “For goodness sake, Zack. You look like someone just kicked your dog.”

  Well, hell. It felt as though someone had certainly sucker punched him. He had half a notion to shrug off her comment, but something deep inside wouldn’t let him. “What makes you think our friendship won’t last?”

  “Zack,” she said, smiling in spite of the seriousness of his question. “I was giving a platonic relationship with her only a week. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and the way she’s been sneaking peeks at you. It’s obvious to me, even if you haven’t figured it out, that you’re both fighting the feeling. And whatever you’re tiptoeing around is going to come out on top.”

  Talk about sucker punches. He was speechless.

  Caitlin laughed. “Just look at you.”

  What was wrong with him? Was it that apparent? That noticeable?

  Diana was the nicest, most virtuous woman Zack had ever met. And the prettiest. But he certainly couldn’t…well, he wouldn’t…

  Wait.

  Caitlin had said she’d sensed something about Diana’s feelings for him, too. She claimed to have spotted a glance, something in Diana’s eyes, her expression.

  Was she right? Had Zack missed it?

  Damn. Women found it so freaking easy to talk about that kind of stuff—relationships, feelings.

  But he’d be damned if he’d ask for clarification. Not when he’d sped through that adolescent insecurity stage more than ten years ago.

  At least, he sure hoped he had.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled the Camaro along the curb in front of Diana’s house.

  “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee or something?” she asked.

  Yes.

  No.

  Ah, shoot. He didn’t know what to say, without sounding too eager. Too interested. Too caught up in Caitlin’s implication that Diana was feeling something for him, too.

  So he took on that cool, what-the-hell attitude that came so damn easy. “Sure. Why not.”

  He followed her into the house, waiting as she instructed the girls to take a bath and put on their pajamas. Then she led him into the kitchen, where he watched her put on a pot of coffee.

  “Thank you for taking me to the barbecue at the Logans’,” she said. “We had a great time. A
nd I enjoyed meeting your friends.”

  “I’m glad you went.” He’d always felt a little like a party crasher at Harry’s, even though everyone had always been accepting. But he didn’t mention a thing to Diana. He didn’t flash a glimpse of his underbelly to anyone.

  As the coffee brewed, she pulled out milk from the fridge, sugar from the cupboard and two cups. “Why don’t you have a seat. I’m going to check on the girls, but I’ll be back in a flash.”

  Then she disappeared, leaving Zack alone in the cozy kitchen.

  He glanced at the countertops, spick-and-span, with everything put away neatly. Then he took a seat at a gray and turquoise dinette table that sat in the corner, a bowl of fruit as a centerpiece.

  On the wall, a glossy calendar hung, along with one of those wipe-off markers. She had a dental appointment on Thursday. The fifteenth was someone named Mary’s birthday. There was an ice-cream social at the church the last Sunday of the month.

  He inhaled the aroma of the fresh brew, appreciating the comforting scent, the homey feeling of being in Diana’s house in the still of the evening.

  Of being her invited guest—not just because the girls had forced the issue.

  And he thought about Caitlin’s comment, her prophecy of sorts.

  I’ve seen the way you look at her, and the way she’s been sneaking peeks at you.

  Diana returned to the kitchen, although her steps slowed when she reached the center of the room. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, something Zack noticed that she did often. A nervous habit, he suspected.

  Nervous?

  Caitlin’s words again came to mind. You’re both fighting the feeling.

  As he began to realize that Caitlin might be right, reassurance surged through his chest.

  “The kids doing okay?” he asked.

  Diana nodded, then slid him a pretty smile. “Yes. They’re taking a bath now, and I wanted to make sure they weren’t playing around, that they had towels and their pajamas laid out.”

  Whatever you’re tiptoeing around is going to come out on top.

  Were they tiptoeing around their feelings?

  And would whatever it was grow stronger, becoming hard to ignore? Impossible to resist?

  She glanced at the coffeepot on the counter, then back at him. “It’s ready.”

  “Good.”

  It sure felt as though something was going on between them, something silent yet strong. And he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Let it happen?

  Or turn and walk away before he got in too deep?

  She poured two cups, then handed him one—just the way he liked it, black, hot and freshly brewed.

  As she carried it to him, he reached to take it from her. Their eyes met, and something passed between them. Their hands touched, and a warm jolt shivered along his skin, traveling deep inside of him, convincing him that Caitlin had zeroed in on his far-from-platonic thoughts.

  Diana felt it too, he suspected, because her eyes widened and her fingers trembled—or had it been his that shook?

  Either way, the cup tilted and hot coffee splashed all over his hand.

  “Ouch. Damn it.” Oh, cripes, he’d let a damn slip out in front of her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, clearly aghast.

  “No problem.”

  She set the cup on the table and took his hand in hers. “Are you okay? Here, let’s rinse it with cold water.”

  “It’s all right.” It would just hurt for a minute, that’s all.

  “Your skin is red.” She drew him to the sink and turned on the water, but her touch, her faint floral scent, her closeness chased the pain away and brought something else into the picture.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Really.” But he let her hold his hand under the flood of cool water.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  It didn’t hurt anymore. But that was about the only thing he was sure of. “I’m fine.”

  She turned off the spigot, then grabbed a folded dish towel from the countertop and carefully blotted his wet hand, drying it.

  And all the while, he stood there, stunned. Caught up in something he didn’t understand. His heart thundered like a runaway train, as his blood rushed through his veins, stirring up his libido and laying open his desire.

  Her movements stilled, and she glanced up at him, caught him watching her.

  Something a hell of a lot stronger than his conscience snaked around his chest and throat, making it hard to breathe, hard to talk.

  He’d always tried to mind his manners around her. Tried hard to respect her, to treat her the way a lady ought to be treated.

  But the rebel deep in his soul refused to remain dormant any longer.

  He pulled his hand free, then cupped her face. His thumb caressed the skin of her cheek.

  Her expression grew serious, and her eyes darkened with something he hoped was desire.

  When her lips parted in what he decided was an invitation, he threw caution to the wind, lowering his mouth to hers.

  The kiss began slowly, gently. Sweetly.

  He expected her to pull away, but when she slipped her arms around his neck, drawing him close, deepening the kiss, he knew she’d stopped fighting her apprehension, too.

  Their tongues touched, shyly at first, then with a blood-stirring boldness that damn near took his breath away.

  She tasted like gumdrops and smelled of roses, and he was soon caught up in a heady, sexual rush, the likes of which he’d never known.

  Their hands began to seek, to caress. But before their exploration could really get underway, the sound of footsteps and a child’s voice drew them apart.

  “Oh, wow,” Becky said, her eyes wide and a goofy smile plastered on her face. “Cool.”

  No, not cool.

  Scary.

  “I…uh…” Diana glanced at Zack, as though he had something bright and witty to say, something to explain to the precocious, ten-year-old child, something he couldn’t even grasp himself.

  Zack raked a hand through his hair. “I’m…sorry…for…” Hell, he didn’t know what he was even sorry for. Being caught? “Hey, maybe I ought to go home. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Diana said. “All right. I probably ought to get to bed early, too.”

  “Hey, don’t mind me,” Becky said, with a grin as big as all get-out still plastered to her face. “I’ll just go back to my room and read Jessie a bedtime story.”

  As the child turned her back and trotted off, Diana looked at Zack, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

  “Neither do I.” He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “I hadn’t counted on kissing you. It just sort of happened.”

  “I know.”

  “We…uh…well…it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  She smiled, but something in her eyes said it was too late for that. They’d stepped across some invisible line.

  “It was nice, though.” He slid her a crooked smile, trying to make light of what they’d done. Trying to coax some kind of confession or explanation from her.

  “It was very nice.” Her voice came out soft, yet husky.

  “Maybe we can pretend it didn’t happen,” he said. “If it makes you feel better.”

  “I’m not sure what will make me feel better. But pretending it didn’t happen won’t work. We had a witness, remember?”

  He nodded, thinking he understood her confusion, her reluctance to let things go unchecked. He wasn’t sure what to make of it either, or what he wanted to make of it. “Maybe we ought to take it one day at a time.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  As he started to leave, she grabbed his arm, drawing him back. “Would you like to have dinner with us later this week? Maybe on Wednesday?”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  Then he decided to take off.

  While he was still ahead.

  On Tuesday evening, after wor
k, Diana stopped at the market to pick up a few things for the dinner she’d planned for Wednesday. She’d actually gotten in and out of the store pretty quickly, but the traffic had been exceptionally bad, and she was eager to get home.

  She’d hardly climbed from the car, when Martha Ashton flew out her front door and hurried down the walk with a skip and a waddle.

  “Reverend Morton said you left work more than an hour ago, and I’ve been waiting for you to get home. I have something to tell you.”

  By the look on her round face, she hadn’t won the lottery.

  Diana reached for the small grocery bag that sat on the front seat, then closed the car door. “What’s the matter?”

  Martha glanced over her shoulder, as though ensuring privacy, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I saw that construction fellow earlier today. He was working on the faucet in your side yard. You know, the one by the camellias?”

  Diana nodded. Apparently, the girls had found another chore for Zack to do, and she couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from twitching her lips.

  “Well, when I caught sight of his profile, I suddenly realized where I’d seen him before.”

  Diana juggled her purse and the heavy sack of groceries. The box boy should have placed the items in two bags. “Where did you see Zack?”

  “On the front page of the Bayside Banner.” Martha crossed her arms, a smirk settling across her face.

  “In today’s paper?” Diana asked.

  “No. It was an article that came out about four or five years ago.”

  “I don’t understand,” Diana said.

  “Let me explain. I stopped by the Speedy Stop this afternoon and saw the article posted behind the register. Apparently, Mr. Tompkins, the owner of the convenience store, keeps it posted as a reminder of the day two young hoodlums ruined his life.”

  “What happened?”

  “Your construction worker, Zachary Henderson, and another young thug robbed the Speedy Stop and shot Mr. Tompkins, the owner. The poor man was paralyzed and remains in a wheelchair to this day.”

  Diana’s heart thumped against her rib cage, threatening to pound its way out of her chest. And her blood cooled to the point of making her head light and her knees weak.