The Matchmakers' Daddy

“It’s my turn to do the dishes,” Becky said, as she pushed her chair from the table and picked up her empty bowl and spoon. “And Jessie wants to help me.”

“But I don’t want—”

Becky cleared her throat. “Yes you do.”

“Oh, yeah,” the younger girl said. “I do.”

“Come on.” Becky led her sister through the sliding door and into the kitchen.

A moment later, Jessie ran back to close the door.

The girls were usually pretty good about helping out in the house—when prodded. But they never took the initiative on their own. There was only one conclusion to make.

Her daughters wanted her to be alone with a man they’d dressed in imaginary armor and placed on a white steed.

But was there any such thing as a real-life hero?

Diana had her doubts. Women often imagined a man was something he wasn’t, especially if she was attracted to him. But the truth struck a hard blow.

There was so much more to a man than met the eye.

Of course, in Zack’s case, what met the eye was very nice, even with—or maybe because of—a five o’clock shadow that lent him a raw, dangerous air, especially under the spell of candlelight.

Physically, he was the complete opposite of Peter, a man she’d practically handpicked when they were in college because he was so different from the dark-haired hellion who’d nearly ruined her life. She’d also chosen him because he’d been a man she thought her blue-collared, demanding-yet-impossible-to-please father would approve of. So she’d set her sights on the gentle man who hadn’t pointed out her every flaw and shortcoming.