The Matchmakers' Daddy

“Zack is the best car fixer in the whole wide world. And he’s going to fix ours for free. Isn’t he nice?”

“It sure looks that way.” She took Jessie’s hand and continued home, aware of the way her bra stuck to her skin, the way her blouse clung to her chest and arms. Aware that she needed to comb her hair and apply a light coat of lipstick.

She tried to use the excuse of the weather, physical exertion and being hot and tired as a reason to dash inside and freshen up.

But she was having a hard time buying into that explanation, especially when the tall, dark and ruggedly handsome man pushed away from the car to face her.

He wore a T-shirt this evening, yet she could still see the flex of his muscles as he slowly lifted his head from the car and turned.

His size alone was enough to make a woman catch her breath. But that’s not the only thing that caused sexual awareness to build into a slow and steady rush.

A shank of unruly dark hair taunted her to brush it off his forehead. And a sky-is-the-limit gaze lanced her to the core. A square cut jaw suggested he could take it on the chin—and probably had, more times than not.

His lips quirked in a boyish half smile, and he nodded at the worn-out sedan. “I hope you don’t mind that I took a look under the hood.”

“No. Not at all.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a bit awkward. Shy. Self-conscious.

How could she have such a silly, adolescent reaction to a stranger who was only being a Good Samaritan?

The screen door squeaked, and Megan walked outside. “How was your day at work, Mrs. Lynch?”

“It was fine.” The trek home had been a bit bothersome. But other than that, Diana couldn’t complain. At least she had a job. And Reverend Morton had been more than understanding about her plight. In fact, he’d wanted to give her a ride home, but he’d had a meeting with the deacons at five-thirty.

“Well,” the teen said, reaching for her backpack that sat just inside the door. “I guess I’d better go.”

“Thank you for looking after the girls. Can you please come a half an hour earlier tomorrow? I’ll need to take the bus again.”

“Sure.” The teenager turned toward the Plymouth. “It’s too bad about your car.”

Diana merely nodded in response. The trusty vehicle had gotten them from Texas to California without any mishaps. And she ought to be thankful it had broken down in the driveway, rather than on the interstate. At least she’d saved money on a towing bill.

“If it makes you feel better,” Zack said, “I think I can get it running. But I’ll need a few parts.”

“I hate to put you out.”

“No problem.” Those baby blues locked on her again, this time drawing her in like a fisherman reeling in his catch—hook, line and sinker.

The intensity of the tenuous connection made her overly conscious of the moisture gathering under her arms, made her wish she’d run a brush through her hair before leaving the bus stop, maybe sprayed on a light splash of perfume.

For a woman who had absolutely no intention of allowing another man back in her life, how crazy was that?

She cleared her throat, hoping to gain control over her pulse and her wits. “I’m afraid my budget is pretty stretched right now.”

“Don’t worry about it. And although this car won’t make it much longer, I think I can get it running, at least temporarily, without too much effort. If you make me a batch of oatmeal cookies, we’ll call it even.”

“Mom,” Becky said, tugging at the sleeve of Diana’s blouse, “shouldn’t we invite Zack for dinner, too?”

“That’s not necessary,” he said, as though sensing Diana’s surprise at her daughter’s invitation. “I’ll get something on my way to the auto parts store.”

She ought to let it go, maybe even ask him to dinner tomorrow night instead. But it had been nice of him to look at her car. God knew she couldn’t afford a mechanic for another couple of weeks. She was still paying off Becky’s dental work.

“We’re not having anything special,” she told him with a smile. “But I’d be happy if you’d share dinner with us.”

He seemed to ponder the offer. Or maybe he was just trying to come up with a way to bow out gracefully. Then he gave her a slow, boyish shrug. “If you’re sure it’s no problem.”

“Not at all,” she said, although her heart was thumping to a primitive jungle beat. And that sounded a little problematic to her. “It’ll take me a few minutes, though. Do you mind waiting?”

“Nope. I’ll just drive down to the auto parts store and see if they’ve got a new battery.”

She froze in her tracks. If her math was correct, her check register boasted all of forty-seven dollars and thirteen cents to last her until next payday. “What will a new battery cost?”

“No more than fifty bucks, I’d say. But I’m going to put it on my credit card. I won’t need payment for another three weeks or so.”

She whispered a quick prayer, thanking God for looking out for her, even though she’d done her share of grumbling and complaining on the walk to the bus stop this morning. “Do you mind taking a postdated check?”

“Nope. Not at all.” He dropped the hood of the car, then swiped his hands together twice. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As he strode down the street, she called out, “Wait a minute. Where’s your car? You’re not on foot, too, are you?”

He slid her a heart-strumming grin. “Nope. My car is parked on the job site.”

Then he continued on his way.

She didn’t know how long she had before he returned, hungry and ready to eat. But she decided a quick jump in the shower would make standing over a hot stove so much more bearable.

The thought that she might want to freshen up for more reasons than the heat and humidity crossed her mind, but she quickly brushed it aside. She wouldn’t put her heart on the line again.

The girls had hinted that they’d all be much happier when Diana found another husband. But Diana knew better than that.

Sometimes men placed demands and stress upon a woman in ways the outside world could never imagine.

Zack didn’t have a credit card, but he wasn’t about to tell Diana that. He would loan her the money for as long as she needed. In fact, if he could figure out a graceful way of making a gift out of it, he would.

So he purchased a heavy-duty battery and took it back to her house, where he put it in the car. He also replaced her spark plugs and put in a new fuel filter. All in all, it cost him more than a hundred dollars, but what the hell.

It made him feel good to help out the little family.

And he’d be getting a home-cooked dinner out of the deal, too. A guy couldn’t complain about that.

When he’d made sure the engine was running, he shut off the ignition, closed the car door and lowered the hood. Then he washed up at the faucet in front of the house. Maybe he should have asked for a rain check for a night when he could shower at home and come dressed appropriately.

But then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if Diana reneged on tonight’s dinner offer. Until very recently, his life had been one big disappointment after another.

That is, until two of the greatest guys he’d ever met had stepped up to the plate.

Bob Adams, his boss, for one. When Zack was a teen, the guy had taken an interest in him when no one else had, letting him borrow tools and work on an old pickup that most people thought would never run again. A beat-up, twenty-two-year-old truck he’d traded in on a ’67 Camaro when he’d gotten out of prison.

And when it seemed that no one in Bayside believed his story about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Bob had believed him. He’d even come out to visit Zack at the Riverview Correctional Facility when no one else had.