Nick narrowed his gaze at Little Miss Matchmaker. Not one of those options sounded remotely reasonable. He released a weighty breath. So, he had to go out on some dates…he wasn’t about to fall in love with any of them.
“How long?” he asked.
Maggie’s smile was as bright as a twelve-year-old college grad. “Four weeks. Just in time to put your glowing quote in the full-page newspaper ad announcing my grand opening.”
The salty air whipped around them. Four weeks of discomfort for six months of meals and a place to drop at the end of the day. He didn’t usually make quick decisions. A good, long ride on his bike was what he needed.
Nick glanced over at Maggie. She didn’t look like a woman willing to give him time to mull things over. Nope. She was ready to send him out among the wolves right now.
Her eyes sparkled, and she bit her lower lip loosely, seductively and—surely—unconsciously. His body tightened in response. He was damn sure that he wasn’t going to fall in love with any of Maggie’s blind dates, but in that moment he knew that he’d just fallen in lust with his new roommate.
“All right, Maggie.” He exhaled sharply and stuck out his hand. “You got a deal. Let’s prove each other wrong.”
Later that day Maggie sat at the edge of the swimming pool at the Santa Flora Retirement Village. With her feet dangling in the cool water, she watched as her grandma’s ivory swim cap surfaced and sank with the steady rhythm of the breaststroke. Maggie shook her head and smiled. At seventy-two the woman had more energy than she knew what to do with—not to mention more pluck.
The older woman’s red cardigan lay in Maggie’s lap, and instinctively Maggie lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply. Lilacs. It was her grandma’s favorite scent. Even the slightest trace of that fragrance took her back to her childhood. Maggie, her mother and her grandma all living together in the same house that she lived in now. Sitting side by side on the backyard’s cool cement steps, laughing at the mountain of a watermelon that clung tenaciously on the vine in the garden they’d planted together. Two contented widows and one thoughtful child. They’d been the Three Musketeers. Then, when Maggie was nine years old, her mother had died. And then there had been just two.
“It goes over your shoulders, dear. Not up your nose,” her grandma chided as she swam toward her.
Kitty Conner could always be counted on to make Maggie laugh. But today Maggie didn’t feel much like laughing. She had a bone to pick with her grandma. Her new roommate was on his way over to her house, moving his things into his room, likely to drop off his toiletries and manly scented soap in the bathroom that they would share.
Maggie’s cheeks warmed.
She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. What was wrong with her? Her cheeks hadn’t burned this way since the day before high school started when she’d slathered herself in baby oil and accidentally fallen asleep on the beach.
And it wasn’t just the heat in her cheeks that had betrayed her when she’d been with Nick Kaplan. He’d grinned at her, eyes dark and intense, and every part of her had gone warm and tight. No man had ever caused such fireworks inside her. Around him, she felt on the verge of something…something unknown—something that stirred her blood.
But those first-day-of-spring flutterings didn’t matter. Her goal was to find him the perfect woman. Not an imperfect, cursed, inexperienced virgin.
Resting her arms on the side of the pool, her grandma let out a contented sigh. “So, are you going to lay into me or what?”
Maggie tried to look perplexed. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Maybe because I gave you a gorgeous hunk of man for a roommate and you’re afraid you won’t be able to control yourself around him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Maggie scoffed, but inside her heart something fluttered. “Maybe it’s that you lied to me and told me that that hunk of man was really a shy, sweet girl.”
“You know, there actually was a girl, but when the boy came along…”
“You couldn’t help yourself.” Maggie sighed. “You’re not even going to apologize for tricking me, are you?”
“For being a matchmaker, you mean? No, I don’t think so. I will always be on the lookout for you.” Kitty grinned at Maggie’s frown. “Look, sweetheart, Nick really needed the room. And he was willing to pay a little bit extra. And with you getting your business up and running I knew you could use it.” The cunning in her eyes warmed to grandmotherly affection. “Oh, my, I can’t wait to see Maggie’s Matches. I’m so proud of you. When can I come by?”
Temporarily forgetting her irritation, Maggie allowed her grandma’s interest to veer the conversation off course. “The weekdays get pretty hectic with all the last-minute fix-ups—electrician, plumber, that sort of thing. How about next Saturday?”
“Next weekend’s no good, honey.” Kitty winked at her. “A group of us are going to Vegas.”
Vegas! Her grandma didn’t gamble, or at least Maggie wasn’t aware that she did. Kitty had always said that gambling was for people who had the social skills of a hermit and who kept the hours of a vampire.
But before Maggie could inquire further about the impromptu trip, something caught her grandma’s eye and she turned. Curious, Maggie followed her line of vision and saw a tall, tanned and very good-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair waving at them from the other side of the pool. Well, not at them, she realized quickly. The man was waving at her grandma.
“Who’s that?” Maggie asked.
Kitty turned back, her eyes bright. “Just a friend.”
Maggie stared at her grandma in astonishment. “Are you blushing, Grandma?”
“Of course not. It’s just the exercise.”
Maggie didn’t buy it. “Is he a client?” Kitty was supposed to be retired from matchmaking, but Maggie knew from very recent and personal experience that the older woman just couldn’t seem to help herself.
Kitty grinned. “You mean, am I helping him to find love?”
Maggie nodded, her own grin widening.
“I’m going to do my very best to help Ted find love, honey.” She had a faraway look in her eyes.
Was her grandma actually dating? Was she in love? Happiness filled Maggie’s heart as she watched Kitty walk up the steps of the pool. Happiness and concern. She couldn’t stop her hand from going to her throat, touching her gold locket—her constant reminder that the Conner women were great at finding love for others. Just not for themselves.
Her grandfather had died just six months after he’d married Kitty. Maggie’s mother had thought she’d found the love of her life at eighteen, but the man had taken her virginity and left her pregnant.
It was The Conner Curse.
But as Kitty watched Ted move away from the pool area and out of sight, the glow emanating from her face looked like excitement, not worry.
“Good men are hard to come by,” Kitty said as she sat down next to Maggie, swept off her swim cap and ran her hands through her short, dark-gray hair. “Nick Kaplan is a good man, Maggie.”
Maggie handed her a towel. “I’m sure he is.”
“Helping others find love doesn’t mean you shouldn’t find a little for yourself.”
“I don’t have time to think about myself right now.” She’d never told her grandma that she believed their family to be cursed. Kitty would call it rubbish and try to convince her otherwise. And Maggie didn’t want to hear it. She knew what was true, and she wasn’t going to tempt the Fates.