Matched Online: Anthology Bks 1-4 (Contemporary Romance)

by Lacy Williams, Julie Jarnagin, Robin Patchen

  She was determined to have a good date tonight. This was number seven in a line of pretty awful ones, and surely, surely this time would be better.

  "So tell me about your career," she said, leaning slightly forward, letting her focus slide off Thad and Drew and onto the man in front of her.

  "My official title is Urban Entomologist. I'm an adjunct professor at State University right down the turnpike, but my real passion is a project I've been working on for a couple of years with the state park over in Oak Lakes."

  She felt like she should know what an entomologist was, but she was a little fuzzy on the particulars. "Oh. What does your project entail?"

  "I'm doing a long term study of the different insect populations. Last year there was a bagworm infestation, and the year before that we had a whole colony of Elm Leaf Beetles."

  An involuntary shiver went down her back. "Oh. Wow."

  He went on to tell her about the fascinating mating rituals of a certain type of dragonfly, but before he could go into why older houses in Oklahoma—like hers—were a breeding ground for Brown Recluse Spiders, she pushed her chair back from the table.

  "I'm so sorry, but I don't think this was the best idea."

  His shoulders slumped. "Too much?"

  She nodded vigorously.

  He sighed. "My last date said the same thing. It's just...you're so pretty, and I get nervous around beautiful women. And insects are my passion—"

  "Thank you for meeting me," she said quickly. Maybe it was cruel, but there was absolutely no future for them.

  She made her way to the counter, keeping tabs on the entomologist with a glance over her shoulder. He was already threading his way through the crowd of superheroes toward the exit.

  Thad had disappeared, but Drew greeted her with a smile at the counter. She sidled up and turned to show her back to him, craning her neck to see over her shoulder. "Do you see anything crawling on me?"

  "No, why?"

  She shook her head as she turned to face him. She still had the heebie-jeebies and barely resisted the urge for a full body shake. Her scalp itched, and she scratched it, threading her fingers into her hair. Bugs. Why did it have to be bugs?

  "Where's Thad?" she asked. Maybe she could distract herself from the feeling of minuscule feet crawling up her spine.

  Drew nodded to the back corner near the restrooms. There were four boys, including Thad, all huddled around a low table, heads bent over something spread across the table.

  "He's showing the other boys his superhero comic collection."

  Her brows drew together. "He doesn't have a comic collection."

  "He does now."

  Her heart felt like the Grinch's, growing bigger until it threatened to burst. "You didn't have to do that."

  He focused on scrubbing a patch of the countertop with his washrag. She could see his cheeks turning red. "It wasn't a big deal. They were just taking up space in a box in my mom's attic."

  And he'd taken the time to find them—probably a more monumental task than he was admitting to—and given them to Thad. If they were from his childhood, they might even be valuable.

  "It's a big deal to Thad." If it made a way for him to make friends with more boys his age, it was a huge deal. Her voice was slightly choked as she said, "And it's a big deal to me."

  Drew's eyes lifted, and their gazes connected. She swallowed but didn't look away. She knew he didn't want the connection between them, and she didn’t blame him. He was still grieving his wife. So she was trying to keep things friendly, but her feeling were venturing dangerously into non-friend territory.

  Wes came up behind Drew and slapped his shoulder. "That's my brother, altruistic to a fault." Wes winked at her. "I keep telling him to be a little more selfish."

  This was said with a pointed sideways glance at his twin, one that Angela couldn't decipher but that had Drew shoving his brother's hand away.

  Wes reached back and slung his arm around Drew's shoulders. Drew wrestled back, finally shoving his brother.

  "Live dangerously," Wes called out. "And take a break."

  Drew shook his head as he untied his apron.

  "What was that about?" she asked.

  Drew shook his head again. He tilted his head toward Thad. "I think he'll be okay for a few minutes, don't you? Wes'll watch out for him. Wanna sneak outside with me?"

  She did. When he motioned her forward, she followed him behind the counter, through the kitchen, and out the back door. There was a small row of parking spots, and then the curb turned to a small grassy area with a park bench beneath an old oak. She sat beside Drew on the bench.

  He pulled her up onto the top of it, their feet on the bench, their shoulders almost brushing.

  "I can't thank you enough for helping Thad." She tilted her head back and looked up through the tree's branches. One or two twinkling stars were visible through the nearly bare canopy. "Sometimes I wonder if it was the right thing, letting Thad's father go. He wasn't invested in us, but maybe I could've worked harder."

  Drew nudged her with his elbow. "I know you. You didn't give up without a fight, did you?"

  She bit her lip. Thought about what she hadn't in a while. "I did try my best. For Thad and for our family. But it wasn't enough. Maybe I wasn't enough."

  Drew jumped off the bench, whirling to point a finger at her. "Don't you dare think that. I've only known you a short time, but everything I've seen is...well, you're beautiful, inside and out."

  She climbed off the bench and marched toward him. "It's all fine to say that, but what about these awful dates I've had? If I'm as desirable as you say I am, why can't I find a decent guy?"

  He ran a hand back through his hair. "I don't know what those dudes’ problems are. If they can't see what's right in front of them—"

  He cut himself off, staring down at her where she stood, right in front of him. She nearly smiled at the irony.

  He seemed to be wrestling with himself. She didn't dare breathe.

  And then he reached for her. It seemed the most natural thing to do to come into his arms. His head bent, and his lips captured hers in a searing, melting kiss.

  She felt the chaos of his emotions, the grip of his hands at her waist. She held his shoulders tightly, returning his kiss, willing him to know that she felt this crazy connection too, that she wouldn't hurt him, not for anything.

  And then his kiss, his touch turned tender. One of his hands came up to thread through the hair at her nape. His mouth brushed hers once, twice more.

  And then he pulled away. He shoved both hands into his hair. "I shouldn't have…we shouldn't have…"

  She reached for him. "It's all right—"

  "It's not all right! Not for me." He jerked away before she could touch him, spinning wildly toward the shop's back door. She thought he’d stalk away, but he turned to face her again. "I'm sorry. I…"

  She had never wanted this for him, the crashing grief that he couldn't even seem to contain. "I'm sorry."

  He shook his head. "I'm going to tell Wes I'm taking off."

  "I'll get Thad."

  He was already striding away before she'd finished, yanking open the door so hard it crashed against the brick wall.

  She took a breath, then another, trying to calm her rioting emotions. Rationally, she knew she hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe she should've stayed inside, shouldn't have come out here with him at all, but he’d asked, and she’d wanted nothing more than to be with him.

  She wished fervently that she'd had a connection with one of her disaster dates. Someone available. Someone who could love her and wasn’t leaving forever. Someone who wasn’t Drew.

  She hadn't meant to fall for him.

  Now what was she going to do?

  8

  What does your ideal Saturday morning look like?

  Love2Bike: "Coffee, the newspaper, and a lazy morning."

  Drew was hiding in the coffee shop kitchen.

  There was no other way to describe i
t. He was a coward. All because Angela was out there with a date again.

  A week had passed since they'd kissed. Since he'd kissed her. It had definitely been him who started it, though she'd been a more than willing participant.

  He'd forgotten about everything in those moments. Until reality had intruded. Until he’d seen the image of his wife. He’d betrayed Jennifer.

  He'd slammed his way back inside and told Wes he was leaving. He'd meant it, disappearing into the woods with a tent and a small backpack for three days before he'd come back home, looking and smelling like a grizzly bear with a temper to match.

  He hated himself for not feeling more guilt over what had happened. Hated that his feelings were so mixed up.

  His phone rang, startling him from where he stood propped against the prep counter.

  Wes.

  He cleared his throat and swiped the call to connect. "Yeah?"

  "Just calling to make sure you're still at the shop."

  Wes's tone was short. His brother hadn't been happy with Drew's disappearance, since he’d had to find a last-minute replacement for two missed shifts at the shop.

  "I'm here," Drew said through clenched teeth.

  "You sound tense. Is Angela up there?"

  It would've been polite of her to find another venue for her dates. Even though the Cup of Joe was the only place in town for a coffee date. He couldn't fault her. He was the one flashing mixed signals, going hot and cold. She'd been nothing but sweet.

  He was the one who was messed up.

  "You gonna forgive yourself for whatever happened Saturday night?"

  No.

  "Why not?"

  He hadn't meant to say that aloud.

  "Leave it alone, Wes."

  "You're my brother. When you bleed, I bleed."

  He should have just hung up.

  For some reason, he left the line open.

  "No one's judging you. No one thinks it's too soon except you, man."

  He sniffed loudly. He wasn't tearing up, just had a burning behind his nose.

  "Are you going to stay single forever? Would Jennifer have wanted that?"

  She hadn't. She'd told him so. But he'd never expected to have feelings for someone so soon.

  Wes rang off after reminding him not to walk out of the shop. Drew wouldn't be that irresponsible, even if he didn't particularly want to face Angela right now.

  She was still there when he emerged from the kitchen fifteen minutes later. Based on the way she leaned forward in her chair, legs crossed toward the good-looking guy, she seemed to be having a good date.

  They were still there when he started rounding up stranded coffee cups and later when he wiped down the counter. The place emptied, and then it was ten minutes past closing time.

  Angela and her date were in their own little world.

  The searing knife in his gut was jealousy, plain and simple.

  He cleared his throat, and when that didn't work, called out, "Hey, guys, I'm closing up."

  They looked up, surprise in their expressions as they realized everyone was gone. Angela looked at him, and he saw the curiosity and compassion in her eyes.

  "Sorry," the guy said as they stood.

  Angela didn't say anything as they left, the dude holding open the door for her.

  And the knife in Drew's gut turned.

  Through the window he watched them stop between their cars to continue their conversation. He twirled the lock violently.

  He went through the motions of cleaning the machines and checking the till for tomorrow's starting cash, adding up the bank deposit—he had to recount twice because his concentration was shot—then locking the back door before he hauled two huge garbage bags to the Dumpster around the side of the building.

  He dumped the trash, then glanced at Angela’s car.

  Dude was gone, but Angela remained. She was seated in the driver's seat with the door open.

  The very last thing he should do was walk over there, but his feet carried him that way before he could talk himself out of it.

  She had her phone out, head down, screen lit. Maybe texting someone. His gut felt on fire wondering if she was already texting the guy who'd just left.

  "That seemed like what a date should be," he said.

  Her head came up. "Hi."

  "I wasn’t sure if you were still talking to me."

  Her head tilted slightly. "After you ran to hide in the kitchen, I thought it might be better if I kept my distance."

  She was obviously smarter than he was.

  "Did you like that guy?"

  Her eyes went unfocused as she contemplated his question. "It turns out we went to rival high schools. Mostly we were talking about mutual friends."

  Mostly wasn't everything. His gut churned.

  "Are you jealous?" she asked.

  Only an idiot would admit it, but, "Yeah. I shouldn't be, but I am." He shook his head. "It's not fair to you, because I can't give you any hope."

  Even from two yards away, even with the height difference of him standing and her remaining in the low car, he could see the hurt in the depths of her eyes.

  He didn't want to be the cause of that. "It's not you—"

  "You don't have to offer me cliches.” She shook her head and looked down at her lap.” I get it."

  He ran both hands through his hair, grabbing and pulling it away from his scalp. "I wish I did."

  She fiddled with her keys, and he was afraid she was going to go. He didn't want her to. "Wes thinks I'm being absurd," he blurted. "He doesn't see any issue with me being attracted to you." It was so much more than that, but he couldn't say it aloud. The heart wants what the heart wants, his brother had said more than once.

  She looked back up at him, her eyes squinting slightly. "If you ever wanted to talk about her, I'd be happy to listen. No strings. No expectations."

  He didn't know if he could do that. But he wanted to give Angela something, and maybe this was it.

  "We met at my high school graduation. She was a year older than me and attending for a friend."

  She'd been so gorgeous in a peach-colored knee-length dress that flared when she walked. He'd gotten tongue-tied and flustered but had managed to ask for her number.

  "I'd been planning to go to school in Texas, but she was at school in Philly, and all of a sudden, I changed my plans. My parents wanted to kill me, but one of my scholarships was transferable, so I went. I didn't know anybody in Pennsylvania but Jennifer. We were engaged a year later."

  Those days were both shining and hard. Working and taking a full load at the same time. Spending every moment they could together. It hadn't been enough.

  "After we got married, we lived in this tiny apartment—so small we couldn't both be in the kitchen at the same time. We'd fight, and there was nowhere for me to go to release my temper—so we learned to talk through it. Not that we fought all that often."

  It got hard to continue, and he swallowed hard, looking down Main Street, where all the businesses had closed down for the night.

  "What was she like?" Angela whispered.

  "She was this...free spirit. One Thanksgiving, we couldn't afford to come home to Oklahoma, so she invited everyone on the same floor of our apartment over to share a meal. We had so many people packed in our place."

  He laughed a little at the memory. "She was quiet. Soft-spoken. But she had this wicked, sarcastic sense of humor, too. She loved living in the city."

  He missed her with such ferocity.

  "How did she die?"

  "She got this really rare form of cancer. No one in her family had even had a brush with cancer before. She fought hard, but..."

  It had been a long battle. Almost four years. Ups and downs and times when he felt sure she'd make it through. She hadn't. He'd fought with God for a long time, even before she'd passed. He still didn't have peace about it. Why take someone so young, so vital?

  He'd needed her.

  "I'm sorry," Angela said. "So ver
y, very sorry."

  Tears burned his throat. "She was supposed to live this long life. I mean, I had plans for our fiftieth anniversary party, you know? Now..." He was lost. All those plans, all the expectations for their life together. He was adrift.

  He expected more questions from Angela. Don't you ever want to remarry? When do you think your grief will ebb?

  But she didn't say anything. She just sat in her car, breathing with him as his chest clutched and released, until he evened out and could breathe again.

  Angela was special. He knew it. It wasn't going to be long before one of these dodos she was dating figured it out and snatched her up.

  He couldn't breathe again thinking about that. The sense of grief at the thought of losing Angela was almost as potent as what he felt for Jennifer.

  But that couldn't be right. He'd loved Jennifer. He didn't—

  He hadn't—

  He couldn't have fallen in love with Angela.

  The heart wants what the heart wants.

  He backed away, fear choking his throat. "I have to go."

  He was half afraid she could see the realization of his feelings in his expression. And then what?

  Because nothing had changed for him, not really.

  9

  What are your three best life skills?

  ChadRBurger: "Playing guitar, original pickup lines, and kissing."

  The shop was half empty as Angela sat across from Brian again. She’d had a good time with him a week ago and agreed to a second coffee date.

  But it was the man behind the counter that had her attention and probably always would.

  She loved Drew. She hadn't meant to fall for him, but it had happened anyway.

  She'd realized it last weekend. He had a deep capacity for love. He'd shown it in his actions toward Thad, helping her son overcome his nervousness and fears about making friends. And she'd heard it in his voice as he'd spoken about his wife. They'd had something special, maybe something a person only found once in a lifetime.