His Made-to-Order Bride. Jessica Matthews

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His Made-to-Order Bride - Jessica Matthews


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whirl of Katie’s sewing machine. Out of habit, he hung the keys to his van on the ornamental key hook near the door.

      The dish of pepper steak and rice waiting in the refrigerator didn’t appeal to him. Mentally exhausted from the day, even his favourite dessert of cherry cheesecake didn’t tempt his taste buds. Considering the mood he was in, he needed something with a little more pizzazz to raise his spirits.

      A six-pack of Coors beer—left over from a September Labour Day party—beckoned and he gratefully retrieved one bottle. He turned away from the fridge to screw off the cap and noticed Katie, standing in the doorway.

      She wore a pair of blue denim jeans and an oversized red Kansas City Chiefs sweatshirt. The ends of her long light brown hair brushed against the bend of her elbow as she carried a wad of multicoloured fabric in her arms.

      ‘It’s ten o’clock. You’re later than I’d expected,’ she mentioned.

      Her tentative tone reminded him of how short-tempered he’d been ever since his meeting with Robert. Even Katie had felt his bite and had wisely left him alone to the point where she didn’t even say goodbye at the end of her shift as was her custom.

      ‘Busy evening.’ He took another long swig.

      ‘Daniel’s asleep.’

      ‘I assumed he was.’

      She held up the mass of material. ‘I’ve been working on his Hallowe’en costume.’

      ‘So he’s finally decided on what he wants to be?’

      Katie nodded. ‘After watching Peter Pan, he chose Captain Hook. We found a package of props and some face paint at the store tonight. I hope you don’t mind that I already bought them, but as it was the last set, I was afraid to wait.’

      ‘Good idea.’

      ‘Have you eaten?’

      ‘Not since lunch.’

      ‘Maybe you should.’

      He caught her eyeing the nearly empty bottle in his hand. ‘Don’t worry, I will.’

      ‘Want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?’

      J.D. sank onto a kitchen chair. ‘Not really, but you may as well know the latest. In fact, I’m surprised you don’t already know.’

      She sat across from him. ‘Sorry. I don’t take time to gossip at work. Too busy.’

      ‘Allan’s started the rumour that I’m leaving Mercer.’

      Her brown eyes widened. ‘You’re kidding. Are you sure?’

      ‘I don’t know it for a fact, but the odds of Allan being responsible are extremely good,’ he said glumly, before polishing off the contents of his bottle. ‘Dr Casey came specifically to the ER to ask if the story was true.’

      She placed the half-finished costume on the table. ‘So you set him straight. No big deal.’

      ‘Ah, but, dear Katie, it is a big deal.’ He rose to retrieve another bottle from the refrigerator. ‘With the gossip floating around, Robert is afraid that my chances of the MEC getting approval are slim to none.’

      ‘I don’t see why,’ she zealously defended him. ‘Once you explain, the board will understand.’

      ‘Ah, but therein lies the rub. I have to put my money where my mouth is. If I’m staying, which I am, then my actions have to corroborate my story.’

      ‘Fine. Contact a Realtor and start looking for a house.’

      ‘It’s not quite so simple. To muddy the waters even more, two of the board members—Robert wouldn’t name them, but I have a good idea who they are—don’t hold too high an opinion of me. According to them, a single man has no business raising a child by himself when a couple was ready, willing and able.’

      ‘They’re still harping over ancient history? My word, that was four years ago!’

      ‘Yeah, well, from their attitude, you’d think it happened yesterday.’

      J.D. knew the Lockwoods would have cherished Daniel; they treated him as tenderly as one of their own now. In fact, if anything happened to him, he wouldn’t object to them taking Daniel into their home.

      The depth of Beth’s and Tristan’s love hadn’t had any bearing on J.D.’s long-ago decision to assume responsibility for his son, however. It had boiled down to his need to look after the precious gift Ellen had left behind.

      Apparently the self-righteous busybodies of Mercer couldn’t understand such a novel concept.

      On the flip side, those same critics would have found fault if he hadn’t taken on his familial responsibilities. It was a definite no-win situation.

      Disapproval over his decision had come from every side, but Katie had been a staunch supporter. He wouldn’t have survived those dark days if not for her encouragement and her help.

      ‘They’re certainly not going to look favourably on any project I’ll introduce,’ he added.

      Katie’s eyes burned with a fierce light. ‘Ophelia Weatherbee and Silas Cunningham, I’ll bet. They should have retired from the board years ago. The sanctimonious pair of buzzards.’

      He grinned at her apt description. ‘Be that as it may, with their jaded opinion of me, plus Allan’s behind-the-scenes manipulation, I only have one way to prove the gossip false.’

      ‘From the way you’re drowning your sorrows…’ she motioned toward his bottle once again ‘…I assume your idea is more drastic than buying your own home.’

      J.D. paused long enough for another swig. ‘It is. I’m going to get married.’

      ‘Married?’ She sounded incredulous.

      ‘It’s crazy, I know.’

      ‘But I thought you didn’t want to.’

      ‘I’m not averse to the institution of matrimony. I just haven’t met the right person,’ he clarified.

      Katie pressed her lips together as she studied her fingernails for a long moment. ‘Well, then. There’s no need to ask who the lucky woman is.’

      ‘Not yet.’

      ‘Going to run an ad in the personal column?’ she asked dryly. ‘That should bring every single woman in Mercer knocking on your door.’

      ‘Nope,’ he said, wrapping his hands around the bottle. ‘No personal ad. Like you said, since I’m such an eligible bachelor and a great catch, I’ll have females crawling out of the woodwork.’

      The smooth brown glass felt cool against his sweaty palms. Katie was vital to the success of his plan and if he couldn’t convince her he was doomed.

      ‘Then how are you going to search for Mrs Right?’

      He clutched the bottle tightly. ‘I’ll ask someone to help me.’

      ‘Who?’

      ‘You.’

      She blinked owlishly, then leaned back in her chair as she narrowed her eyes to study him. ‘Me?’

      He drew a deep breath and forged ahead. ‘Yeah. I’d like you to help me find a wife.’

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