This matchmaker has her work cut out for her...
Despite his feelings on love and marriage, Gabriel Blackburne works for his aunt’s matchmaking company—but only on the financial side! So he’s not exactly thrilled when, much like his meddlesome family, a teenager shows up and tries to set him up with her mom. But when it becomes clear that Courtney Davidson is equally uninterested—if incredibly compelling—he proposes a mutually beneficial fake relationship to keep both his family and her daughter out of their business...
For several moments, Gabe was quiet, then felt the urge to fill that silence with words. Any words he could think of. “They actually said that I need to get back in the saddle.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I don’t even want to see a saddle.”
Half of Courtney’s scone was still on her plate, apparently forgotten after his confession. She met his gaze, and her own was serious. “You said on the phone that you might have a fix for the problem. Care to share?”
When Gabe had made the call, he hadn’t been completely sure about this idea. Still, he’d figured reaching out couldn’t hurt. In business he’d learned to go with his gut, and talking to Courtney would convince him one way or the other. They both understood family interference, and that conversation had led him to this crossroad. But he’d made up his mind when she walked into the coffee shop and unleashed those killer dimples when she smiled.
“I have a proposition for you,” he started.
“Oh?” Her expression turned wary.
“You’re probably going to think this is crazy. The most out-there thing you ever heard.”
“Should I be afraid?” she asked.
“You tell me.” Here goes, he thought. “I think we should fake date.”
Dear Reader,
My husband and I were introduced by mutual friends who thought we should meet because neither of us is very tall. Successful relationships have started with less and our first contact was a phone conversation. It lasted three hours. Fortunately, we clicked face-to-face as well and fell in love. A big milestone anniversary is coming up for us this year and we owe our happily-ever-after to those matchmakers.
In A Matchmaker’s Challenge, the hero and heroine are opposed to meeting anyone who might be a potential love interest. Courtney Davidson resists her daughter’s efforts to change her mind. Love has let her down more than once and she doesn’t want to be a three-time loser. But the determined teenage matchmaker with a serious romantic streak will not give up. The unrelenting campaign is driving Courtney up the wall.
Widower Gabriel Blackburne has a similar problem with his family. The corporate turnaround expert lost the woman he loved and buried the pain in work. But his family thinks he’s grieved long enough and needs to get back out there. Every week at Sunday dinner there’s another pretty, single woman seated next to him and he’s eager to make it stop. After a chance meeting with Courtney, he comes up with a brilliant strategy that will address their shared problem—fake dating.
On paper the plan is perfect, but neither of them is prepared for the part where they fall in love.
Every relationship begins with a meet either by chance or with help. For Courtney and Gabe, it’s a little bit of both. I hope you enjoy their story.
Happy reading!
Teresa Southwick
A Matchmaker’s Challenge
Teresa Southwick
Teresa Southwick lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Harlequin.
Books by Teresa Southwick
Harlequin Special Edition
An Unexpected Partnership
What Makes a Father
Daughter on His Doorstep
The Bachelors of Blackwater Lake
How to Land Her Lawman
A Word with the Bachelor
Just a Little Bit Married
The New Guy in Town
His by Christmas
Just What the Cowboy Needed
Montana Mavericks: Six Brides for Six Brothers
Maverick Holiday Magic
Montana Mavericks: The Lonelyhearts Ranch
Unmasking the Maverick
Montana Mavericks: The Baby Bonanza
Her Maverick M.D.
Montana Mavericks: What Happened at the Wedding?
An Officer and a Maverick
Montana Mavericks: 20 Years in the Saddle!
From Maverick to Daddy
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
This book is dedicated to all the romantics who believe in happy endings and help them along by matchmaking.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Single Mom’s Second Chance by Kathy Douglass
Chapter One
Courtney Davidson was late for high school, which hadn’t ever happened to her even when she was a student. On top of that she was nervous—not a good look for a career-focused talk in her daughter’s freshman homeroom class. The point of this whole exercise was to fire up the kids in their first year, motivate them to study hard and keep their grades up, in order to achieve every hope, dream, goal.
She planned to spotlight college and her nursing career, not the part of her own life where she got pregnant at sixteen. Sometimes it still boggled her mind that she was pushing thirty and had a kid in high school. She was trying to be someone the students looked up to, and being late wasn’t what a role model was supposed to do.
After parking in the visitors’ lot, Courtney ran to the designated room. In the hallway she saw two men—one fiftyish, the other in his thirties. They were standing just outside, one on either side of the door. She stopped by the younger man and leaned around him to peek inside. The teacher stood in front of the class explaining the purpose of this presentation.
“Thank goodness I’m not too late,” she said to no one in particular. “I’ve got a minute to catch my breath.” And scope out the two dads who had showed up.
The older guy in a suit and tie was standing on the far side of the doorway. He had index cards and was studying them. Courtney stood next to the other one, who was wearing tailored jeans with a white dress shirt and blazer, the walking definition of casual professional and drop-dead gorgeous. He had dark hair and a tall, lean, muscular body. His fashion vibe made her wish her scrubs were trendy instead of practical, functional and sensible.
Mr. Fashion Forward looked down at her, and crystal-blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, intelligence and a tiny bit of amusement. “Did you get hung up at work?”
His quiet, deep voice seemed to graze her skin and release tingles that touched her everywhere. She had an odd and unfamiliar urge to flirt. That was weird, because she was philosophically opposed to flirting.
“One of my patients coded,” she said.
“You’re a nurse.”
“What gave me away?”
He shrugged. “The scrubs were a clue.”
“Yeah
.” She glanced ruefully at her shapeless pants and top. “It’s official. I get to wear pajamas to work.”
“Not a bad thing.” As he inspected her, his extraordinary eyes flickered with something, but it disappeared too quickly to identify. “And the patient?”
“The team got him back. He’s stable. I work in the cardiac observation unit at Huntington Hills Memorial Hospital. We were prepared.”
“My brother and sister work there. Mason is an ER doctor, and Kelsey is a nurse in the same department.” When Courtney stared blankly, he added, “The last name is Blackburne.”
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “The name sounds familiar, but it’s a big place. Doctors and staff from different departments don’t overlap much.”
“Seriously? You don’t know everyone who works in a four-hundred-bed hospital?”
She laughed at his teasing. “I know. Slacker is my middle name. Any day I’ll get a stern talking-to about that.”
“As well you should.”
Was he flirting? The problem with not doing it herself was that she didn’t recognize the behavior in someone else.
Courtney had been half listening to the teacher inside and heard when the woman finished her opening remarks. She introduced the man with the index cards.
“Here we go.” The other man smiled at them before walking inside to the front of the classroom.
Courtney had been told each of them would have ten minutes. Thank goodness she wasn’t first, but she was next, and a knot tightened in her stomach.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up at the emergency room doctor’s brother. “I might throw up.”
“You face life-and-death situations at work all the time, and just a guess, but I bet you see blood and guts on a regular basis.”
“And your point is?” she said.
“It’s hard to believe public speaking makes you want to throw up.”
“They’re teenagers, Mr. Blackburne.”
“Right. So the speech content bar isn’t actually very high,” he pointed out. “A healthy percentage of them are going to tune you out and possibly figure out a way to sleep sitting up. It’s not personal. They’re kids. And the name is Gabriel—Gabe.”
“For me the bar is very high, because my daughter is in this class.”
His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’re not old enough to have a student in high school.”
“I got an early start.” This happened all the time, so her teenage humiliation had disappeared a long time ago. Now she was a proud mom. She pointed out Ava. “She’s sitting in that row by the windows, in the last desk. The one with long, straight, light brown hair who’s hunching down and trying to pretend she has no biological connection to me.”
He laughed. “That’s normal. She’ll get over it.”
“Easy for you to say. Or maybe not.” She scanned the rows of students looking for a boy or girl with dark hair the same shade as his. “Which child is yours?”
“None of them. I don’t have any children.” All traces of amusement vanished as his expression hardened into an emotionless mask.
She’d hit a nerve. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. Or to assume anything.”
“It’s a natural assumption.” The tension in his jaw eased slightly. “I was married, but my wife died.”
She was momentarily shocked into silence, then said what everyone did, because “that really sucks” didn’t seem appropriate. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t respond at all, not even with the usual “thank you,” which meant something. She just wasn’t sure what. The other speaker droned on in the classroom, so she barreled ahead to fill the awkward silence. And probably made it more awkward.
“So why are you here to speak if you don’t have a student in the class?” she asked. “No one does this voluntarily.”
“I actually do volunteer here at the high school as a math tutor. My best friend is a teacher here at Huntington Hills High—supervisor in the department—and asked me if I could spare some time.”
“And apparently you could.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty good in math, and I like working with the kids. The downside is that it made me handy when someone flaked out on this career thing at the last minute.” He slid his fingers into the pockets of his jeans.
“That’s very nice of you. Besides being good in math, what else do you do?”
“I’m a businessman, a corporate turnaround consultant. I patch up failing companies. When your job is fixing things, you have to look at why they’re broken, and I’ve picked up a few strategies to prevent problems before they happen.”
“Right.” She nodded.
“And these kids are starting their education, the part where a certain amount of pressure kicks in. Getting good grades for acceptance to top colleges. If the seeds of wisdom fall on fertile ground, their high school experience will be more successful.”
“Exactly,” she agreed. Lukewarm applause from the classroom trickled out into the hall. “Doesn’t sound like very fertile ground in there. Tough crowd.”
The unenthusiastic response made her want to throw up again. Then the fiftyish man walked out the door, looking relieved that the ordeal was over. He wished her and Gabe good luck then walked quickly toward the exit sign at the end of the hall.
“It’s going to be fine,” Gabe told her in a calm and reassuring tone.
“Yeah?” Courtney desperately wanted to believe him.
“I’m told after the first ten minutes you completely relax and the nerves go away.”
“I only have ten minutes,” she said wryly. The teacher was talking again, introducing her. “I just don’t want to embarrass my daughter.”
“You won’t,” he said confidently. “And if you do, there’s always the witness protection program.”
Incredibly, that made her laugh. “Seriously, Gabe, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for distracting me. If you’re ever in the cardiac unit, I’ll take good care of your heart.”
“And who should I ask for? You never told me your name,” he added.
“Courtney Davidson.” Inside the classroom, the teacher said her name at almost exactly the same time. “Gotta go.”
“Break a leg.”
Just before she turned to leave, he gave her a thumbs-up gesture, and she smiled. Was it flirty? She hoped not and tried not to be. Ever. It could make a man think she was interested when she wasn’t. She was a happily single woman trying to be the best mom possible.
And in that spirit, she gave her talk without mentioning Ava or even looking at her. She focused on the benefits of just showing up, doing the work and asking for help when, and if, you needed it. A good GPA was essential to get into the best nursing programs, and careers in the health-care field were both personally rewarding as well as a way to earn a living.
When she finished speaking, there was lively applause, which made her happy. Ava had ducked down behind the boy in front of her, so there was no way to judge her daughter’s reaction. At least the other kids probably wouldn’t tease her about her mom being lame and uncool. In the back of the classroom, Gabe Blackburne was clapping, too.
Courtney thanked the teacher, waved goodbye to the class and headed to the back of the room, where he was standing. “Whew, that happened.”
“You were great. They loved it. No one snored, looked bored or sneaked a look at their cell phone. But, then, you look like you could be in high school yourself.”
“I hope none of these kids have to grow up as fast as I did.” She met his gaze. “Again, thanks for the moral support. So, I have to get back to the hospital.”
“Nice to meet you, Courtney.”
“Wish I could stay for your talk.”
“Ask your daughter later,” he suggested.
“I will. ’Bye, Gabe.”
>
As she walked back to the parking lot, Courtney realized how very much she wanted to stay and hear what he had to say. He seemed really interesting. And she wasn’t blind—there was no denying his hotness. Based on this reaction, it was probably fortunate that she had to go back to work. Saved from a potentially weak moment that she would no doubt come to regret. She’d been a two-time loser and wouldn’t take a chance on third time being the charm. It could also be third strike and you’re out.
* * *
Gabriel Blackburne had lost the love of his life. He wanted nothing to do with love ever again and found it painfully ironic that his current business turnaround assignment was a matchmaking company. If it hadn’t been owned by his aunt, who had invested every cent of her retirement into buying Make Me a Match, he would have turned the job down flat. But Lillian Gordon was like a second mother to him.
When his own mother was on doctor-ordered bed rest during her fourth pregnancy, his aunt had stepped in and took a special and loving interest in her quiet nephew, who grew even more withdrawn during the family emergency. She’d kept him from disappearing, and he was grateful. He would do his very best to make sure that her company succeeded and she had a comfortable retirement—if she ever chose to stop working.
And speaking of love, it wasn’t just clients finding it. His aunt’s personal assistant/receptionist was flashing an engagement ring. Carla Kellerman, a petite, outspoken redhead, was in the boss’s office right now showing off her rock when Gabe walked in.
“Hey, Aunt Lil. Carla, I hear congratulations are in order. Who’s the lucky guy? You didn’t go out with one of our clients, did you? That would violate company policy.”
“Of course she wouldn’t do that.” His aunt was in her early sixties, and her shoulder-length hair was silver and curly. Her voice was one part gravel and two parts smoothie. “If you paid more attention, Gabriel, you would know that Carla met Steve at a bar.”
“Ouch,” Carla said. “That doesn’t sound a whole lot better than poaching from the client pool. However, it’s essentially true. It was ladies’ night at Patrick’s Pub, and the rest is history.”
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