Page 57 of The Matchmaker and the Marine

Will studied Adam before saying, “Yeah. But don’t wait too long before you tell Melinda. You can trust her.”

Adam picked up the remote and turned on the television. “Are you staying to watch the game with me?”

“Yeah. You heard my bride, she has no interest in baseball.”

Adam chuckled. “Is this why you wanted me to live over the garage, so you’d have me around for sports?”

With a grin Will said, “Well, you found me out.”

“Since you’re staying, we’re going to need snack foods. Can’t watch a game without them. But before you do that, can you help me? I need to get into sweatpants. It’s going to be tough with one hand.”

“I wondered why you were still wearing boots. You didn’t want to take the chance Melinda would see your foot.” With a shake of his head Will joked, “Let’s get this over with. After being in work shoes all day, your feet are going to be ripe.”

He chuckled. “That’s the real reason. I didn’t want Melinda to faint twice in one day.” Adam stuck his foot out and jiggled it. “That special honor is just for you.”

Melinda sat in bed, too keyed up to sleep. She looked through the photo album she kept in her nightstand. After John died, her mother had put this together for her, condensing all the special moments they had shared into this one book. She had other photos packed away, but this one was always at the ready to provide comfort when she was missing John. And tonight, the loss was acute.

She ran her fingers over the embossed cover and turned to the first page. It was a picture of John and her at their engagement party. The young people looking at the camera wore bright smiles; their eyes were full of the promise of wonderful things to come. She turned the page. It was their wedding picture. He was so handsome.

Page after page, memories filled her heart with joy. She had been truly blessed to have loved John. Despite their short marriage, she wouldn’t have traded it for a single thing. Her only regret was that they’d never had a baby. If they had, at least she would have a part of him with her today.

She turned to the last page. It was the final picture of the two of them at the shore about a month before he died. No tears fell, just the overwhelming sense of loneliness engulfed her. She closed the album and set it aside.

With a flick of the knob, she turned off the bedside table lamp and lay back on the mound of pillows. Her eyes were wide open, sleep eluding her. She could hear the minutes click slowly on the grandfather clock in the hallway. It struck midnight and then one. She flipped back the covers and got out of bed, prowling through the shadows in the house.

Warm milk would help. She pulled a carton from the refrigerator and put a mug into the microwave. After it was warm, she stirred cocoa powder in and then shuffled back to her room, climbing under the covers. The warm cocoa soothed the edges of her jangled nerves, but it was going to be a long night.

Images of John filled her thoughts. She sipped the soothing beverage and snuggled into her mountain of down pillows and pale green comforter. With eyes growing heavy the sounds of the night lulled her to sleep.

Melinda lingered over her morning coffee. She had a perfect view out the back door to where Adam stood on the patio. What was he doing at her house so early? Her heart quickened. A slow, easy smile danced on his oh so kissable lips. When he turned and looked at her his eyes were like rich dark chocolate. He lifted his hand, extending it to her as if he was beckoning for her to join him.

She was inexplicably drawn to him. She longed to be in his arms. She seemed to glide out the door and down the steps. His fingers curled towards him, propelling her forward without words. She placed her small hand in his. Warmth radiated up her arm, heating her skin. His eyes seemed to drink in every inch of her face. He cupped her cheek and let his fingers guide her lips towards his.

Melinda could almost taste the sweet smell of chocolate that clung to him. She held her breath, waiting anxiously for the moment when his lips would caress hers. A warm sensation crept up her midsection.

Forced to open her eyes, she sat straight up. She was in bed alone with what was left of her cocoa pooling on the bedcovers and soaking her pajamas. Confused, she looked around. The patio and Adam had vanished.

Setting the mug on the bedside table, she eased out of bed and dashed into the adjoining bath to get something to sop up the mess. Mumbling under her breath about the stupidity of spilling cocoa, she blotted the liquid as best she could, turning her pretty white towels a dull brown.

“Great, just great.” She tossed the towel into the tub. Then she shed her silky nightgown and wrapped her terry robe around her. Hands on hips, she decided she was not going to be sleeping in that bed for the rest of the night. Without turning on any additional lights, she padded barefoot across the hall, the deep plush carpet drowned out the annoyance in her walk.

What was she doing dreaming of Adam Bell? He was a client and a friend. She shouldn’t be imagining what it would be like to have his fingers trail along the curve of her cheek as if relishing the feel of her skin. And what was her dream-self doing, actually yearning for his touch?

She pulled back the covers of her guest bed and slipped in between the cool jersey sheets. She lay back and closed her eyes, but she couldn’t shake the image of Adam’s seductive smile. She flipped over and readjusted the blankets. Closing her eyes, Melinda forced her mind to go blank. Dear heaven, she needed some sleep.

It had been three days since Melinda had seen Adam. They’d talked on the phone and texted a bit, but each time she volunteered to stop by, he said he was resting. Was he dealing with some PTSD? The injury to his hand may have triggered something.

Finally, having been stalled long enough, she decided to take the bull by the horns. She finished packing a cooler with fresh fruit, vegetables and salads. After loading everything in the car, she sent a quick text: Stopping by, don’t plan on staying but you’ll have provisions.

She turned her phone off so she couldn’t receive his usual no thanks text.

After making the short drive to his place, she walked up the stairs. With a sharp knock on the door, she heard, “Hold on a minute.”

She called out, “Are you decent?”

A chuckle answered her. “Not quite.”

She could hear a few cuss words, a thump and something crash.

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