9781631050275TheirPerfectMatchMarshNC by Alela Marsh

bothering even to scan it. “Bring me the special.” He paused to wink at Molly. “I recommend you order the same. It’ll save all three of us a lot of time and stress.”
    “Fine,” she said, closing her menu and handing it back to a satisfied Flinty. “The special it is.”
    “He cooks a lot of one thing and wants everybody to eat it,” Zane told her while the old man ambled back to the counter. “He’ll just pretend he’s out of whatever else you try to order.” Her baffled expression prompted another of those lethal grins, and Molly felt her skin go hot again. “He hates to throw away food at the end of the day,” he explained. “Speaking of that, you need to try the bread pudding with caramel sauce. It’s Flinty’s other specialty. Trust me.”
    “I don’t know about that.” Molly instinctively patted her stomach. It felt flat, and she hoped to keep it that way.
    “If this is some weight-watching thing, you don’t need to bother. You look terrific just the way you are.”
    “That’s nice of you,” she said, heat blossoming in her cheeks.
    “I wasn’t just saying it to be nice. I’m being completely honest.” Zane’s gaze slid appreciatively down the curve of her shoulders and over the soft slope of her breasts.
    Time to change the subject again, she thought. “I take it you’ve been a regular here for some time.”
    “Actually, I’ve known Flinty since I was a kid.” His smile faded, for which her surging hormones were grateful. “It’s kind of a long story. But the food here is good, the price is reasonable, and I’m not much of a cook.”
    Molly decided to take the opportunity to mine some information. “Tell me about your family. I’m not asking on behalf of the business this time. I’m just genuinely curious.”
    “Not much to tell. My parents divorced when I was a kid. I lived with a stepfather most of the time, since my father wasn’t really into parenting.” His eyes drifted to the photo of the boxer she’d noticed earlier. “That’s him, you know. In the photo. Bruiser Bishop.”
    “Your father was a boxer—that boxer?” she asked, astonished.
    “Yep. He was kind of a minor legend in his own limited circle. That was partly why he never paid that much attention to me or my mother. His career took up a lot of time. Mom and I were sort of in his way. Then she left him. I saw even less of him after that.”
    Molly lowered her eyes at the pain in his voice. “But you came back when he needed you,” she said. “He must have done something right.”
    “Yeah, he had a hard life, especially at the end. All those blows to the head caught up with him. Painful as it was, I’m glad I was there at the end. I figured I owed him that much, whatever had happened in the past.” He shredded the corner of a napkin without looking down at it. “I had a stepfather, too, who treated me okay. That helped make up for a lot, but he’s gone, too. Even though he had the best care money could buy, it didn’t save him in the end. Mortality is the great leveler, like they say.”
    “And your mother?”
    “Married again. Third time lucky, I guess. She’s out in California with a younger guy, of all things. I haven’t seen her in a while. What about your folks?”
    “Retired to Florida a few years back. I go out there a couple of times a year. It’s nice, but I’m always glad to be home again in cold New England.”
    “So tell me what you like to do when you’re not working at fixing up people’s dates.”
    “Oh, I shop, go to movies and shows. I eat out with friends. And I read, mostly. Contemporary fiction.”
    “Depressing stuff, you mean.”
    “Sometimes. And I can’t deny that it suits my mood now and then.”
    “Not now, surely?”
    “Not at the moment.”
    Zane leaned toward her.
    “So what’s your favorite restaurant in the city? Don’t worry, I won’t tell Flinty.”
    Molly considered. “There’s a place on Burdon Street that’s good. It’s a bit fancy.