Hope's Discovery (THE MATCHMAKER TRILOGY)

by Marie, Bernadette

  “Working on a masterpiece?”

  “A commissioned masterpiece, thank you very much.”

  “Ah, nothing like someone wanting to pay you before you’ve done all the work.”

  “Exactly.” She swished her sable brush in the jar of solvent to her side then wiped the bristles on a rag and set it on the table.

  “Can I look?” He playfully raised his golden brows at her and she sighed, crinkling up her nose.

  “Yeah, you can look.”

  Hope stepped to the side and let Thomas slide in between her and the canvas.

  “Mr. Jacobs?” She winced when she nodded. “You’ve done this much today? He just was in the school this morning. He came over here next?”

  “Yes, but I started this yesterday.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d been in here before.” He raised his eyes to meet hers, and resentment poked at her when she realized Thomas was uncomfortable with the situation.

  “He hadn’t,” she said on a sigh and reached for a rag to wipe the paint smudges from her hands. “I met him at the cemetery yesterday.”

  “Carissa said she found you there.”

  “Found me? She knew I was there.” She smiled, pulled open the mini refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of water. “Want one?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  Hope nodded and opened the bottle. She took a long pull, hoping to gather her thoughts about Trevor Jacobs. It was organizing the thoughts that was giving her problems.

  Thomas gave her a look of impatience. “Anyway, you met him at the cemetery?”

  “Yeah. After Carissa left, I was still standing over Mandy’s grave and he walked up. He was looking for his aunt.”

  “That’s some pick-up line.” He was smiling, but she knew he was being protective.

  “C’mon, who picks up women in the cemetery?”

  “Just seems odd that a man meets you in the cemetery and then finds you at work.”

  “Well now you’re creeping me out.” She picked up the rag she’d wiped her hands on and threw it at him.

  “I’m supposed to look out for you. I’ve been doing it most of your life.”

  “Thank you, in case I forget.”

  “Smarty pants,” he said throwing the rag back in her direction. “Seriously, did he know you were an artist? He asked you at the cemetery to do this?” He motioned to the portrait.

  “No, actually I started the picture before he asked for it.” She walked over to the canvas and stood next to Thomas. “I know this sounds strange, but I couldn’t forget his face. It was cluttering my head. I had to sketch it. I had to get it out of there.”

  “And he just happened to come in here today and see it?”

  “Yep, that’s how it worked.”

  Thomas considered it, but she could see it wasn’t settling. He frowned. “It’s creeping me out now.”

  “Stop!” She slapped his arm. “Truth is I feel as though I’ve been waiting for him. As if he was supposed to come for me. Grandma Katie said he would.”

  “You’re talking to Katie? I think you need some fresh air.”

  “I walk with her in my dreams.” She dropped her shoulders. “I know, I know. It sounds strange.” Hope looked up at him and let out a breath. “Do you believe in fate?”

  Thomas didn’t answer right away. He tunneled his fingers through his hair. Hope knew this meant he was thinking, it was one of those unique habits that made Thomas so endearing.

  “I guess I’d be a hypocrite if I said I didn’t. We all take certain paths for certain reasons, and sometimes they lead us right to the thing we wanted most.”

  “Had you not run away, you’d never have met my mom and she’d never have led you to Carissa.”

  “Right. Just think, if your mom hadn’t left your dad and toured for ten years I wouldn’t have met her either. It seems like your mother’s stubbornness was to my benefit.” He pursed his lips and gave her a thoughtful nod. “So you think his finding you in the cemetery, your painting his face, and his walking in the door are all fate driven?”

  Hope shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. But I know his face fills my mind. When we touch there’s electricity.”

  “Touch?” His eyes opened wide.

  “We’ve shaken hands,” she said with raised brows.

  “Oh.” He sighed in a big brother sort of way.

  “I guess I’ll see what happens tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “He’s asked me out for dinner.”

  “And you’re going?”

  “Creeping you out again?” she asked as she picked up the brush she’d cleaned earlier and tapped it into a dab of Prussian blue for the background.

  He touched her arm. “Be careful.”

  “I’ve never been anything but.”

  “I know. I just have a very uneasy feeling about this.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “You would. You’re supposed to protect me, right?”

  “Yeah, me and that medal you wear around your neck.” He gave a nod toward her necklace.

  Hope touched the pendant. “It did okay by Mom and Carissa. It’ll keep me safe.”

  Thomas gave her a wave goodbye and headed back to the school.

  Hope lifted the Saint Nicholas medal from her neck and examined it. Her grandmother had given it to her mother when she was a child. Soon after, they’d been in a car accident and her mother was the only survivor. The accident had taken Sophia’s parents from her, scarred her physically, and made her barren. When she’d decided to marry David, she’d given the necklace to Carissa as an engagement present. Carissa, in turn, had given it to Hope when she was ten, shortly after their great-grandma Katie had passed away.

  Hope had faith it would keep her safe, but she wasn’t sure she’d need it. Trevor Jacobs didn’t creep her out. On the contrary, he got her very excited about many things.

  As promised, Trevor Jacobs walked through the door to Hope’s store just as she was ready to lock up.

  She gestured to her faded jeans. “I didn’t give much thought to this. I haven’t even been able to go home and change.”

  “I think you look great.”

  She looked him over. His dark blue jeans and button-down shirt put her at ease. This was going to be casual. She quietly blew out a breath as she thought of the night ahead. It wasn’t creeping her out. On the contrary, she was growing more and more excited with the possibilities of what the night would bring.

  He led her to the car and opened the door for her after she’d locked up. Luckily, she’d always kept makeup and grooming essentials at the store. She’d had a few moments before he’d gotten there to freshen up. A splash of perfume hadn’t hurt either. After all, she’d been working with paint all day.

  He pulled the car from the curb. “I saw a place on my way over here this morning. Josephine’s? Ever eaten there?”

  “I’ve been known to dine there a time or two.”

  “Any good?”

  “You won’t find better. Jo makes your dining experience just that. An experience you won’t forget.”

  “Jo? You’ve been there more than a time or two, haven’t you?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. She makes that very thin kind of pizza you find in Italy. Not the thick American kind we know and love. So Thomas would take me there often when I was growing up.”

  He shifted in his seat. “You and Thomas are pretty close?”

  “Very. He was my first love.” She felt him shift his eyes from the road to her and she met them with a smile. “I was eight.”

  He nodded and turned his eyes back toward the road. “Does he know you felt this way?”

  “Yes. He knows. He was crazy about my sister and I was crazy about him. I got over it in time and when they got married, I realized how lucky I was. I had a sister and a brother to look after me. By the time I was fourteen, I was an aunt with a baby to play with and then they just kept knocking them out. Now they have four beautiful children that I get to spoi
l and send home.”

  “You like kids?”

  “I love them.” She settled her eyes on him. “Do you?”

  “Yeah. My sister has kids. She married young and started right away. She’s got two and one on the way.”

  “Boys or girls?”

  “One of each. She’s keeping the newest addition a surprise, which is killing my mother. She’d like to know what kind of quilt to make the baby. My sister says make it neutral, but my mom wants to personalize it. It’s how she is.”

  “I think that’s lovely.”

  “Well for now it’s just keeping my mother off of my back. I can’t tell you how annoying it is to repeatedly be asked when I’m going to give her some grandbabies.”

  The air thickened in the car. Hope bit down on her lip as she tried to control an emotion that stirred through her when he said those words.

  “So where is home?” Hope moved the conversation in the necessary personal direction so she could get to know her date better.

  “Upstate New York. Born and raised there, but it’s really not my style.”

  “Really? What’s your style?”

  “I like city, not country. But I don’t like big city. Manhattan is not for me. However, I do a lot of business there, my office is there. But Kansas City is a nice pace. It’s big, but it’s not.” He shook his head. “Does that even make sense?”

  “Perfect sense.”

  Trevor pulled the car into the parking lot and hurried around the car to help Hope out.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, reaching for his hand. When she touched it, she felt the energy surging again. Only this time it wasn’t shocking, it was warm and comfortable. The tightening in her stomach increased.

  He took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers, and led them through the front door of the dimly lit restaurant.

  She chose a lighter dish of pasta and a white wine sauce. Trevor tried his hand at Jo’s signature lasagna.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said cheerfully as the dish was set down before him. The slice was the size of the plate.

  “Quite the appetite?”

  “The company of a beautiful woman does that to me.” His gaze had shifted from the plate of pasta and meat to her, and she felt a lump form in her throat. His dark eyes seemed to sparkle over the candlelight. She wondered if it was possible to lose one’s heart in less than one day.

  “Thank you.”

  Trevor lifted his glass of red wine. “A toast to new friendships.”

  Hope tapped her glass to his. “To new friendships.”

  She sipped her wine and picked up the conversation they’d had in the car. She wasn’t finished learning about Trevor Jacobs, the boy from upstate New York.

  “So why are you in Kansas City?” she asked as she wrapped noodles around her fork. “Business.”

  She nodded. Losing her heart to the stranger she’d seen in her dreams seemed like a lost cause. He’d be leaving. That’s what it meant when business brought you to Kansas City.

  “I probably should have asked before, but what do you do? You certainly aren’t the art dealer I pray every morning will walk through my door and buy up all my art.” She lifted her glass in a toast again. “Though you did make my month by wanting to purchase my current work.”

  Trevor lifted his glass too. “I look forward to acquiring my latest purchase.” His smile stopped her with her mouth open. Her heart did a little flip and she thought back to the moment when he said he was there on business.

  “So, back to why you’re in Kansas City.”

  “Ah.” He set his glass back down. “I’m an insurance investigator.” He wiped his lips with his napkin and laid it back in his lap.

  Hope watched him carefully. He wasn’t completely comfortable with his answer. “You don’t like your job?”

  “What? No, I love it. Insurance is the bread and butter. But for fun I dabble in the personal. Meaning I do some”—he lifted his brow—“PI work,” he whispered.

  Hope smiled. “Oh.”

  “The deadbeat dad that needs to be found. The cheating wife. The stealing employee.”

  Hope looked down at her plate with a nod and then lifted her eyes back to him. “The missing parents?”

  “It would fit into my menu of services.” Trevor sat back and continued his assault on his lasagna, but Hope suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. She chewed on her bottom lip.

  Just the day before, while standing at Mandy’s grave, she’d wondered who she was and where she’d come from. Who were the people who created her life and gave her to the wonderful people she called her parents? What kind of blood ran through her? Was Mandy only some coke addict who’d had affairs and gotten knocked up? Was there anything sincere about the woman? Who was the man she’d had an affair with?

  Trevor reached across the table and set his hand on hers. “Are you all right?”

  Hope snapped back to the conversation. “Yes, sorry.”

  “You’re not eating.”

  “I’m not really hungry. If you don’t mind, I’ll save this for lunch tomorrow.”

  He nodded, wiped his mouth, and then sipped his wine, all the while keeping his eyes focused on her. She caught his stare. She wanted to ask him to help her. She wanted to see if he would, but she needed to talk to Carissa. This would affect her too. After all, the only blood bond she had to the family that raised her was Carissa. They were sisters in blood.

  “You don’t look so well. Would you like me to take you back to the store to get your car?”

  “I’m sorry, Trevor.” She settled her eyes into his. Again, her stomach was flipping and her heart was racing. “Would you mind?”

  His brows drew together as he studied her for a moment. He gave her a nod, set his napkin on the table, and gave her a noticeably forced smile. “Not at all.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The waitress boxed up their dinners and the cream-filled cannolis that Trevor ordered. He took Hope’s hand and escorted her back to the car.

  The ride back was quiet and he began to wonder what he’d said to upset her. Anxiety fluttered in his chest. He hadn’t revealed himself to her as someone sent to find her. He would usually have done that by now if he were being on the up-and-up. Instead, he was wining and dining her on her birth father’s money. But that was the assignment, he reminded himself with a trickle of guilt; because he really would rather get to know her on his own.

  He’d never had an assignment that had gotten so personal. They weren’t supposed to. By not backing away he was jeopardizing everything Donald Buchanan wanted from him, only Buchanan was the very man asking him to stay and to be quiet.

  He turned his head to catch the glimpse of the angel seated beside him. Maybe she suspected. Maybe she didn’t trust him. He hadn’t lied to her. He’d only not told her his reason for coming to Kansas City was to find her. He indeed was an insurance investigator. And finding dead mistresses and illegitimate daughters was much more intriguing that hunting down the truth behind a hit-and-run in a parking lot.

  Trevor stopped the car in front of her darkened shop. Only one car remained on the street, and it was hers.

  Hope turned her head toward him. Her eyes danced in the darkness under the illumination of the street lamp. “Thank you. I had a wonderful time.”

  “I hope so.” He covered her hand with his. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

  “I’m sure I will be.”

  “I’d like to see you again. Would you mind if I came by tomorrow?” He lifted her fingers to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “To check the progress of my acquisition, that is.” He let a gentle smile settle on his lips, still lingering over the skin of her hand. He didn’t want to let go. The urge to lean forward, kiss her passionately on her rosebud lips, and forget about Donald Buchanan was too strong though. He slowly let go of her hand and she pulled it back to her lap.

  “Of course.”

  “And then if you’re not busy maybe we co
uld get some coffee?”

  “I can’t leave the store in the middle of the day,” she reminded him.

  “Okay then, I’ll bring coffee.”

  “I think that sounds lovely.” She reached for the handle of the door.

  “Wait.” Trevor jumped from the car and ran to the other side. He opened the door, took her hand, and helped her out of the car. “My mother would never forgive me if I just dropped you and drove off. A gentleman makes sure to help a lady from the car, and he waits on the curb to make sure she’s gotten her keys in the door. In the case of her driving off, he must wait to see that the car starts and she has driven off.”

  “I love your mother already.”

  “She’d love you as well,” he said, without realizing how sentimental it would sound.

  “Again, thank you. I’m sorry to call it such an early night.”

  “No worries.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She smiled at him and walked toward her car. Once she’d opened the door she shot him back another smile. The door shut. The car started and Hope Kendal drove away.

  Trevor sprawled out across the bed and reached for his messenger bag. Pulling out the folder that housed the documents he’d collected for the Mandy Marlow case, he eased back and sat against the pillows.

  Trevor needed to see Hope’s face again. He needed to imagine that it was him she was smiling at when he went to sleep.

  He opened it up past the only picture he had of Mandy and Donald and flipped through until he found her.

  “I miss you already,” he said with a shake of his head. “This is going too far, too fast.” He ran his fingers over the picture and remembered how deep the blue of her eyes was. Her smile, her laugh, her voice all haunted him, just as they had in his dreams.

  He tossed the folder on the nightstand and rearranged the pillows. He prayed Hope Kendal would be in his dreams again tonight.

  Hope knocked on Carissa’s front door at half past seven the next morning. It took all she had not to laugh at her sister’s harried appearance.

  “Oh my, Hope! What are you doing here? What happened? Are you all right?” Carissa assaulted her with questions as she pulled her though the door.