Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(117)

He backed the Audi around until it blocked the lane. Once he was satisfied she couldn’t get out, he turned off the ignition, shoved Daffy Duck out of his way, and tilted the seat all the way back. But despite his exhaustion, he didn’t immediately drift off to sleep. Too many voices from the past. Too many reminders of all the ways love had kicked him in the teeth…every damn time.



The cold awakened Annabelle even before her alarm, which she’d set for six. During the night, the temperature had dropped, and the blanket she’d pulled over herself couldn’t ward off the morning chill. Molly had told her to stay in the Tuckers’ private quarters at the B&B instead of an unheated cottage, but Annabelle had wanted the solitude of Lilies of the Field. Now she regretted it.

The hot water had been turned off last week, and she splashed cold on her face. After she helped serve breakfast to the guests, she’d treat herself to a long soak in Molly’s tub. Yesterday, she’d volunteered to help with breakfast when the girl who usually worked the morning shift had fallen ill. A small but welcome distraction.

She gazed at the hollow-eyed face in the mirror. Pitiful. But every tear she shed here at the campground was a tear she wouldn’t have to shed when she got back to the city. This was her time to mourn. She didn’t intend to make a career out of being miserable, but she wouldn’t beat herself up for hiding out, either. She’d fallen in love with a man who was incapable of loving her back. If a woman couldn’t cry about that, she didn’t have a heart.

Turning away, she snagged her hair into a ponytail, then slipped into jeans and sneakers, along with the warm sweater she’d borrowed from Molly’s closet. She let herself out through the back door. The storm had finally blown off, and her breath made frosty clouds in the cold, clean air as she walked down the path to the lake. The soggy carpet of leaves sucked at her sneakers, and the trees dripped on her head, but seeing the lake in the early morning lifted her spirits, and she didn’t care if she got wet.

Coming up here had been a good decision. Heath was a powerful salesman, and he saw every obstacle as a challenge. He’d be gunning for her when she got back, trying to convince her she should be satisfied with the place he wanted to relegate her to in his life—behind his clients and his meetings, his phone calls and his grueling ambition. She couldn’t return until she had all her defenses firmly in place.

Fingers of mist rose from the water, and a pair of snow-white egrets fed near the bank. Through the weight of her sadness, she struggled to find a few moments of peace. Five months ago, she might have settled for Heath’s emotional leftovers, but not now. Now, she knew she deserved better. For the first time in her life, she had a clear vision of who she was and what she wanted from her life. She was proud of everything she’d accomplished with Perfect for You, proud of building something good. But she was even more proud of herself for refusing to accept second best from Heath. She deserved to love openly and joyously—no holds barred—and to be loved the same way in return. With Heath, that wouldn’t be possible. As she turned away from the lake, she knew she’d done the right thing. For now, that was her only comfort.

When she reached the B&B, she pitched in to help. As the guests began filling the dining room, she poured coffee, fetched baskets of warm muffins, replenished the serving dishes on the sideboard, and even managed to crack a joke. By nine o’clock, the dining room had emptied out, and she set off back toward the cottage. Before she took her bath, she’d make her business calls. A master executive had taught her the value of personal contact, and she had clients who depended on her.

Ironic how much she’d learned from Heath, including the importance of following her own vision instead of someone else’s. Perfect for You would never make her rich, but bringing people together was what she’d been born to do. All kinds of people. Not just the beautiful and accomplished, but the awkward and insecure, the hapless and obtuse. And not only the young. Unprofitable or not, she could never abandon her seniors. Being a matchmaker was messy, unpredictable, and demanding, but she loved it.

She reached the deserted beach and paused for a moment. Pulling her sweater closer, she walked out onto the dock. The lake was quiet without its summer visitors, and the memories of the night she and Heath had danced in the sand washed over her. She sat down at the end and drew her knees to her chest. Twice she’d fallen for damaged men. But not ever again.

Footsteps sounded on the dock behind her. One of the guests. She pressed her wet cheek to her knee, blotting her tears.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Her head came up, and her heart lurched. He’d found her. She should have known.

“I used your toothbrush,” he said from behind her. “I was going to use your razor until I figured out there wasn’t any hot water.” His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t spoken for a while.

Slowly she turned. Her eyes widened in shock. He was mismatched, unkempt, and unshaven. Beneath a ratty red windbreaker, he wore a faded orange T-shirt and navy slacks that looked as though he’d slept in them. He held a bunch of Disney balloons in his hand. Goofy had deflated and hung against his leg, but he didn’t seem to notice. Between the balloons and his dishevelment, he should have looked ridiculous. But with the polished veneer he’d worked so hard to obtain stripped away, she felt even more threatened.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she heard herself say. “This is a waste of time.”