“Why do they call you ‘Matchmaker’?”
Molly looked over the rim of her glass at Buddy, who had been studying the Guinness poster that hung over the mirrored bar. He now looked directly at her, his gray eyes exactly like his daughter’s.
“Because that’s what I am.”
Molly blinked. A male matchmaker? Really?
Buddy grinned. “Not that kind of matchmaker. A fight matchmaker.”
“Now I’m even more confused.”
Buddy explained that he matched up fighters for a local fight club, the club Colin happened to own.
“It’s a matter of matching up styles and abilities. And . . . you don’t want to hear about all that.” Buddy laughed. “I work for the fight club, behind the scenes, not in the cage. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“And how long have you been doing that, this matchmaking stuff?”
“Officially about ten years. Unofficially? Since high school. So, twenty years, give or take.” He fidgeted on his stool. “So, how long have you been teaching? I saw in the program that you were a veteran teacher.”
“This is my seventeenth year teaching.”
“Always in kindergarten?”
“No, I ventured up to sixth grade for a few years, but my heart is with the little ones.”
He nodded. “It’s a fun age.”
“It is,” Molly agreed.
They fell into a comfortable silence as they drank their beers. Molly let her gaze wander across the labels on the glass bottles, using the mirrored wall behind them to examine the man next to her. Sandy-blond hair that he kept cropped short, most likely to tame the curls that she could tell he had. He had a strong brow over unusual gray eyes that matched his daughter’s. A closely trimmed beard that camouflaged a very full bottom lip, which he worried with his top teeth. Yes, he was definitely handsome, though not at all her usual type.
Molly could see Buddy’s eyes dart over toward her, studying her as well. When she caught him looking, those gray eyes widened and he choked on his beer before chuckling.
“Busted,” was all he said before giving her a wink.
Molly chuckled, and that grew into full-fledged guffawing on her part. Buddy shook his head and added his own snicker.
She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Molly Mayhew, and I’m pretty awkward.”
Buddy took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips. “No, you’re just . . . pretty.” He grinned at her, still holding on to her hand. He gave it a little squeeze. “It’s nice to get to know you, Molly Mayhew.”
“Likewise, Buddy Thomas. And now, I’m afraid I must be leaving. I have an early morning appointment with my mother to paw through dead people’s things.”
“Wh-what?”
Molly cackled. “I’m going with my mother to the flea market tomorrow, so I need to get home and get some rest. Have a good rest of the weekend, Buddy. I had a nice time tonight.”
“I did, too.” He seemed to be about to ask her something but then just smiled before saying, “Let me walk you to your car.”
*****
Molly closed and locked the front door and leaned against it. She tapped out a text message to Buddy, informing him of her safe arrival. He’d walked her to her car, given her his cell phone number and asked her to text him when she got home, and then squeezed her hand before putting her in her vehicle. She saw him in her rearview mirror, watching her, making sure she got safely on her way.
He was a nice fellow, and if this had been a couple of years ago, well, she might have been prone to develop a little crush on him. But this was now, and she’d learned her lesson about getting entangled with a parent, especially one with a problematic ex. Not that he’d told tales about his ex—Lucy’s mother hadn’t even come up at all this evening. Molly had witnessed her fair share of toxic parental relationships, and she appreciated the fact that Buddy seemed to at least be pleasant about his ex-wife.
“Buddy Thomas, you’re a cutie-pie,” she murmured to herself. She heard a whimper and realized she hadn’t turned on the automatic timer on her living room lamps yet. She flipped the light switch on the wall, and the table lamp turned on, illuminating her dog in her crate. “Oh, Louise, I’m so sorry you were left in the dark.”
The giant mastiff barked once but didn’t make any other noise as she waited patiently for Molly to let her out. Molly released Lou from the crate, and the huge mastiff promptly began smothering her with slobbery kisses.
“Aw, Big Lou, I missed you, too. It’s going to take some time to get used to being away from you.” She planted her own kiss on the dog’s slobbery face. “Go do your business and then I’ll fix your dinner, okay?” Molly went into the kitchen and let Lou outside through the back door. After she let Lou back in, Molly gathered up her beloved pet’s food and food bowl. talking to her about her day and her encounter at Foley’s with Buddy. The dog barked again when she said the man’s name, and she thumped her tail twice, but Molly figured it was because she had Lou’s bowl in her hands.
After she got Lou’s meal sorted and served, Molly picked up the phone to check her voicemail. She’d more than expected Boone to leave at least one message today after their little discussion last night. She crossed her fingers as she dialed the code and then heard the most beautiful four words on the planet: “You have no messages.”
She heaved a sigh of relief and hung up the phone. Curious, she checked the caller ID for missed calls—fourteen. More than usual, but not worrisomely so. After all, her number, although unlisted, had been in the system long enough now to get on telemarketers’ lists.
Her cell phone chimed with a text message.
Thanks for letting me know. Am home myself. Have a good one.
Molly grinned. Yeah, he was a nice guy.
She was in the middle of her evening beautification routine when her phone rang. Glancing at the time and fearing the worst, because no one called her after the evening news, she snatched up the phone and uttered a hurried, “Hello?”
“About time you got home. Where’ve you been?”
Molly’s breath caught in her chest. “I said I didn’t want to talk to you, Boone.”
“I get worried, darlin’. A single woman, all alone. You never know what can happen.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Molly. I’m just sayin’ you need to be careful. I got worried when you weren’t home when I called.”
“Fourteen times.”
“What?”
Molly huffed. “You called fourteen times. Fourteen times in five hours, Boone. That would be excessive even if we were dating, which we are most certainly not. So I’m going to say it one more time: do not call me. Good-bye, Boone.”
She hung up the phone with more force than was necessary and, just for good measure, unplugged the phone from the wall. She wasn’t going to deal with Boone tonight. She wasn’t going to deal with Boone at any time. She was going to cancel her landline tomorrow. Then he wouldn’t have a number to call.
Molly checked all the doors and windows and made sure the blinds were closed and the curtains were drawn tight. She snapped her fingers, and Lou lumbered into the bedroom and onto the twin futon that served as her bed. Then Molly brushed her teeth and got into her own bed, thankful that the only window in her bedroom was high on the wall, the result of a 1960s addition at the back of the house. She turned off the light, and after a period of fretting and listening to Louise snore, she fell into a restless sleep.