Mistletoe Matchmaker by Lissa Manley

Author:Lissa Manley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

At precisely eight o’clock the next night, Grant walked into Elly’s Café, which was located on Main Street just three doors down from Molly’s store. The scent of meatloaf and potatoes hit him full force, and his heart twisted; his mom—a phenomenal cook—had made the best meatloaf he’d ever had.

Man, he missed her.

His eyes suddenly misty, he scanned the busy restaurant to distract himself from his grief. The place was exploding with Christmas decorations of every shape, size and variation of green, red, silver and gold in the Christmas rainbow.

A huge decorated Douglas Fir graced the far right corner, and a fire crackled away in the large rock fireplace that took up most of the other wall. Stockings hung from the rough-hewn wooden mantel, and a giant evergreen wreath bedecked with pinecones and a red-and-green-plaid ribbon hung over the entire thing.

After a second look around, he determined that Phoebe hadn’t arrived yet. Just as he was about to sit down in the waiting area, an older woman with short blond hair who looked to be the hostess approached him.

“You must be Grant,” she said with a friendly smile.

He pulled in his chin. “How did you know?”

“I’m Marie Graham. My son Seth is married to your cousin, Kim. We’re practically relatives.”

“Aha. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” He stuck out his hand. “Aunt Rose told me all about you.”

“And me, you,” Marie replied, shaking his hand. “How’s it going with Jade?”

He made a so-so motion with his hand. “She needs a lot of attention, and I’m working, so starting tomorrow Molly Kent is watching her during the day for me.”

Marie beamed. “I heard.”

“You did?” he asked, scratching his chin.

She leaned in. “I also know you’re meeting Phoebe Sellers here for dinner.”

Guess that was a small town for you. He wasn’t sure he liked everyone knowing his business. “Yes, I am,” he said, glancing around. “I don’t think she’s here yet.”

“She’s not, but I’ll be happy to seat you.” Marie winked. “I’ve reserved a special table for you two.”

He swallowed. Hard. This whole thing was getting way out of hand. But it wasn’t Marie’s fault he’d agreed to this harebrained plan of Phoebe’s. He alone bore the responsibility for this ill-advised “date.”

“Great,” he said in a strangled voice. “Lead the way.”

Marie grabbed some menus from a small desk in the reception area, then headed across the restaurant.

Grant followed her to a two-person table in a cozy nook adjacent to the fireplace.

He sat, feeling like a fraud. This table should be reserved for happy, genuine couples, not two people trying to get a matchmaker to back off.

Marie handed him a menu with a flourish. “Here’s the menu, but everybody comes on Thursdays for the meatloaf.”

“I’ve heard.”

“I’ll send Phoebe over when she arrives,” Marie said. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I could use some water, please.” Suddenly, his throat felt dry. And…had his neck grown? His shirt collar suddenly felt way too tight.

“Water, coming right up,” Marie said, leaving the table.

Once he was alone, he sat back and tried to relax and simply enjoy some downtime, but that proved difficult.

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