Read Burned in Broken Hearts Junction: A Cozy Matchmaker Mystery (Cozy Matchmaker Mystery Series) for Free Online Page A
Authors: Meg Muldoon
month.
He shakes his head.
No. This isn’t how he wants the night to go. He’s too tired to start battling those old demons, the what-ifs and if-onlys.
Still, the thought crosses his mind. Uninvited, as always.
What I wouldn’t give for one of those rare steaks now, he thinks.
He sighs, opens the freezer door and reaches for the macaroni and cheese Stouffers box. In an instant, all the boxes behind it tumble out of the freezer and scatter themselves on the linoleum floor.
“Blasted!” he grunts.
He puts down his basket and starts collecting the TV dinners.
His hand brushes another as he reaches for one. He looks up.
Her dark red-stained lips curl up into a smile.
A familiar face.
“Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into a mess here,” she says, taking the box and putting it back in the freezer. “Not that you deserve my help, but here I am anyway.”
He struggles for her name. It’s on the tip of his tongue. Starts with an “B”. Belinda or Bethany, maybe.
“Beth Lynn,” she says, brushing past him. “And you’re welcome.”
She walks down the long aisle, and he has trouble pulling his eyes off of her.
When she turns the corner and disappears, he feels a strange sensation tugging at his chest.
He doesn’t usually go for those aging beauty queen types.
But there is something about her. Something he can’t quite get a hold on.
Something he hadn’t noticed before.
He puts the macaroni and cheese box in his basket and heads for the front of the store.
Chapter 10
I woke up on the sofa.
My hair was matted with sweat, and I was gasping for air, which might have had a little something to do with the fact that a 130-pound St. Bernard had draped himself over me like a blanket.
Suddenly, there was a rapping noise at the front door.
Hank shot up, stepping hard on my thigh to gain traction before jumping off the sofa. I groaned, and he bounded for the door like a juicy piece of longhorn steak was waiting for him behind it.
I sat up, my head throbbing from both inside and out, if that was even possible. Maybe it was the vision, or maybe it was the big glass of whiskey I had before bed, or maybe it was the massive welt that had taken over my eye, or a combo of all three. But any way you looked at it, I was hurting.
I stood up and went for the door. Whoever was out there, they were in for one scare all right when they saw me.
I peeked through the eye-hole, astonished at who was standing on my porch.
She looked like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” I mumbled, opening the door just a crack.
Beth Lynn Baker stood there on the other side, looking a little worse for wear herself. Dark bags clung underneath her eyes. The grey light of morning settled into her wrinkles, making her look at least ten years older than she was.
She was shivering beneath her garish faux fur coat.
“You’ve got some nerve coming here,” I said, the tone of my voice none-too-happy.
I noticed that the rain from the night before had turned into snow, leaving behind several inches of the dense, heavy white stuff everywhere.
Like I said. You just couldn’t predict the weather here this time of year.
Hank started barking at her, and with good reason. I held onto his collar, keeping him from jumping on her like that longhorn steak he’d been hoping for.
Not that she wouldn’t have deserved a pouncing by Hank after the way she acted the night before. The fact that I was having trouble seeing out my left eye this morning was, when you went to the root of the matter, this woman’s fault.
“Before you start in on me, Bitters, let me just say something,” she said, shifting her weight back and forth between her high heels.
“What is it?” I said.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said, looking down sheepishly. “I take full responsibility. I’m a fool thinkin’ that Kirby would ever change.”
“Well, you won’t get any argument from me there,” I
He shakes his head.
No. This isn’t how he wants the night to go. He’s too tired to start battling those old demons, the what-ifs and if-onlys.
Still, the thought crosses his mind. Uninvited, as always.
What I wouldn’t give for one of those rare steaks now, he thinks.
He sighs, opens the freezer door and reaches for the macaroni and cheese Stouffers box. In an instant, all the boxes behind it tumble out of the freezer and scatter themselves on the linoleum floor.
“Blasted!” he grunts.
He puts down his basket and starts collecting the TV dinners.
His hand brushes another as he reaches for one. He looks up.
Her dark red-stained lips curl up into a smile.
A familiar face.
“Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into a mess here,” she says, taking the box and putting it back in the freezer. “Not that you deserve my help, but here I am anyway.”
He struggles for her name. It’s on the tip of his tongue. Starts with an “B”. Belinda or Bethany, maybe.
“Beth Lynn,” she says, brushing past him. “And you’re welcome.”
She walks down the long aisle, and he has trouble pulling his eyes off of her.
When she turns the corner and disappears, he feels a strange sensation tugging at his chest.
He doesn’t usually go for those aging beauty queen types.
But there is something about her. Something he can’t quite get a hold on.
Something he hadn’t noticed before.
He puts the macaroni and cheese box in his basket and heads for the front of the store.
Chapter 10
I woke up on the sofa.
My hair was matted with sweat, and I was gasping for air, which might have had a little something to do with the fact that a 130-pound St. Bernard had draped himself over me like a blanket.
Suddenly, there was a rapping noise at the front door.
Hank shot up, stepping hard on my thigh to gain traction before jumping off the sofa. I groaned, and he bounded for the door like a juicy piece of longhorn steak was waiting for him behind it.
I sat up, my head throbbing from both inside and out, if that was even possible. Maybe it was the vision, or maybe it was the big glass of whiskey I had before bed, or maybe it was the massive welt that had taken over my eye, or a combo of all three. But any way you looked at it, I was hurting.
I stood up and went for the door. Whoever was out there, they were in for one scare all right when they saw me.
I peeked through the eye-hole, astonished at who was standing on my porch.
She looked like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” I mumbled, opening the door just a crack.
Beth Lynn Baker stood there on the other side, looking a little worse for wear herself. Dark bags clung underneath her eyes. The grey light of morning settled into her wrinkles, making her look at least ten years older than she was.
She was shivering beneath her garish faux fur coat.
“You’ve got some nerve coming here,” I said, the tone of my voice none-too-happy.
I noticed that the rain from the night before had turned into snow, leaving behind several inches of the dense, heavy white stuff everywhere.
Like I said. You just couldn’t predict the weather here this time of year.
Hank started barking at her, and with good reason. I held onto his collar, keeping him from jumping on her like that longhorn steak he’d been hoping for.
Not that she wouldn’t have deserved a pouncing by Hank after the way she acted the night before. The fact that I was having trouble seeing out my left eye this morning was, when you went to the root of the matter, this woman’s fault.
“Before you start in on me, Bitters, let me just say something,” she said, shifting her weight back and forth between her high heels.
“What is it?” I said.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said, looking down sheepishly. “I take full responsibility. I’m a fool thinkin’ that Kirby would ever change.”
“Well, you won’t get any argument from me there,” I