Mistletoe Matchmaker

“Yes, very important. If I pull this project off in the ridiculously short amount of time I’ve been given, my company will secure the account for the future, and I’ll get a huge promotion and a lot of respect within the software community.”

Interesting. “Don’t you get lonely working in such isolation?”

“Actually, no,” Grant said, taking another piece of garlic bread from the basket. “I work on my time, when I want, with no distractions, no meaningless socializing.”

She scrunched up her nose. Did Grant at least allow the Lord into his tiny box of a life? She’d be lost without His guidance.

“Being with people is not meaningless,” Molly said emphatically. “I adore interacting with my customers, love helping them pick out products, forming attachments, making friends from all over the world. I’ve had customers from as far away as Hong Kong who still email me to chat.” Granted, that was just email. But still, she was connected. Involved.

He blinked several times, as if her statement was so foreign to him he couldn’t possibly understand where she was coming from. “Personally, I find a social life and business don’t mix,” he replied after a long moment.

He was making the same foolish choice as her father, the big-time corporate attorney.

“Sounds lonely,” Molly said, shaking her head. Lonely and isolated. And faithless.

“Maybe so,” Grant replied, pulling Molly back into the conversation. “But some people like my kind of lifestyle.”

Probably not his family. “Your bosses, for instance.”

He laughed. “Definitely at the top of the list. But focusing on my job works for me because my career is my number-one priority. I don’t have time for a social life, which is fine by me.”

None of this made any sense to Molly. How could he live that way, always solitary, his only companion a computer? “So, your aunt Rose told me you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Nope.”

“I guess you don’t have time, right?”

His expression closed. “Right. I gave up dating a long time ago.”

She almost blurted, “Me, too,” but she held back the words just in time. She was trying to find the perfect woman for him, not reaffirm his reasons to stay isolated with her own sob stories.

With her promise to Rose in mind, she said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go to church with me on Christmas Eve, the week after next? I’m sure you’d love the service.”

Grant froze, his fork midway to his mouth. Then he very deliberately set the utensil down. “Church isn’t really my thing,” he said evenly. Too evenly. As if he was trying to suppress something painful and had gone all blank instead.

She blinked. “Oh. Okay. No big deal.” Not a believer, then? Again, another clue to his personality. She was slowly finding out about the real man beneath the attractive exterior. Good. Yet…not.

Not surprisingly, Grant changed the subject. “So, how long have you lived in Moonlight Cove?”

“Three years. I moved here when I graduated from the University of Oregon.”

“How did you end up in this neck of the woods?”

“My family and I used to vacation here when I was little.” In fact, Moonlight Cove was the last place her family had spent any happy time before her mother died.

“Lots of good memories, I bet,” he said.

Actually, her only good memories of her childhood centered around Moonlight Cove. “Tons,” she said, bending the truth. A lot. She was ashamed to admit how limited her happy childhood memories actually were. As in almost nonexistent.

“I have good memories here, too,” he said. “I came here every summer to visit Aunt Rose when I was growing up.”

“That must have been fun.”

Again, his expression shuttered. “It was.”

He seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, so she decided not to push him on the subject and instead focused on eating. Grant seemed content to simply chow down.

A few minutes later, he set his utensils neatly on his plate and said, “Dinner was fantastic. I could get used to this kind of delicious cooking in a hurry.”

A warm glow of pride settled in Molly’s chest. It was always nice to please someone who could express himself with words, not barks. “Thanks.” And then she thought, Note to self: fix him up with someone who likes to cook.

They rose and began to clean up, and when Grant went to take the garbage out, she ran through all the information about him she’d collected today. He liked superheroes. He was reluctant to date. He appreciated home cooking. And he was a runner.

Who should she set him up with?

Of course, she’d already set her matchmaking sights on Phoebe; she might be the perfect match. If that didn’t fly, there was also Anna Stevens, who owned Moonlight Cove Bakery on Main Street. She was single, and was the best baker in town, hands down.

Then a rogue thought crashed through Molly’s mind.

On paper, another person also had a lot in common with him.

And that person was…her.

She looked heavenward.

Hello? God? Looks like I have another problem I’m going to need Your help with.

Chapter Three

The next day, Grant glowered at the naughty dog sitting in front of his desk. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Jade had spent the morning alternating between barking at the squirrels in the backyard from the window, dropping her gross tennis ball in his lap and asking to go out every ten minutes, which not only distracted him, but required that he wipe her muddy paws off every time she came in.

She lifted her furry face. There it was, that dog smile she kept giving him. It was as if she could actually understand him.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. Yeah, right, Roderick. Maybe his killer work schedule had fried his brain. She was just a dog, albeit a very, very smart one.

He had to get some peace and quiet, or he’d never make his deadline.

Before he could figure out how to accomplish the seemingly impossible goal, his cell phone rang.

Grant pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at the display. Dad. He and his dad were close, and Grant always looked forward to their three-times-a-week conversations.

Grant pushed the answer button. “Hey, Dad,” he said. “How are you?”

A pause. “I’m fine. And you?”

Grant’s stomach clenched. Dad wasn’t fine at all, and hadn’t been since Grant’s mother had died after a long, agonizing battle with breast cancer a year ago. Neither he nor his dad had really come to terms with losing Naomi Roderick.