Little Miss Matchmaker. Dana Corbit

it.

      “Friends, huh?” Frowning, he ruffled her hair. “I’m not letting him—or you for that matter—hang out on a school night, and that’s all there is to it.”

      Despite the tough front he was trying to portray, Alex couldn’t help blowing out a breath in frustration. “I don’t even know this Jake or any of the rest of his friends,” he said more to himself than her.

      “He should make some friends at church.”

      Alex opened his mouth to shoot down whatever argument she had next, but he closed it when Chelsea’s words sank in. It wasn’t a bad idea.

      “At church?” He’d reached a new low if he was seeking parenting advice from a nine-year-old, but at least one of them had an idea.

      “You know, like a youth group.”

      “I don’t think they have one of those at my church.”

      “What about at another church?”

      Alex thought about it for a few seconds and then frowned. The only local church he knew of that boasted a large, active youth group was Chestnut Grove Community Church, known for its Fall Carnival. That this just happened to be Reverend Fraser’s church and where his daughter attended was just a coincidence. It had to be.

      “I do know of one at the Chestnut Grove church.”

      “Let’s go there.” Chelsea had a strange look in her eyes, but it was probably just enthusiasm.

      “Maybe we can visit there sometime soon. Do you think Brandon will go for it?”

      “Maybe.” Chelsea nodded as if the matter was settled and then flipped back on her belly to return to their puzzle pieces. Immediately she found a pair that fit together and held them up to show him.

      “Good job.” Alex stretched out next to her on the deep pile carpeting, planting his elbows on the floor and resting his chin in his hands.

      He’d done a good job himself tonight, deftly handling Brandon’s attitude and managing to get Chelsea to talk to him—all without pulling out a single clump of his own hair. Dinah would be proud of him.

      Dinah. He shook his head. Why did she keep turning up in his thoughts these past few days? They barely knew each other. He shouldn’t care what Chelsea’s teacher thought of his parenting skills, but he would be kidding himself to say he didn’t.

      As he continued trying to stuff ill-fitting puzzle pieces together, images from earlier in the day flitted through his thoughts. At the school Dinah had looked so pretty with her auburn hair blowing in the wind. He’d been so tempted to tuck one of those soft-looking strands behind her ear that he’d had to put his hands in his pockets to prevent it.

      Then and now, he fisted those hands, trying to get a stranglehold on his straying thoughts. He had no business thinking about any woman right now, not when his plate was so full with caring for Karla’s children, not when he didn’t even know who he was as an individual let alone as part of a couple. Like the pieces of this puzzle, he just didn’t fit.

      Finally back from the journey of his thoughts, Alex glanced over at the section of the puzzle on which Chelsea had been working. She’d already completed the pieces forming one of the tiny mountain peaks.

      “I’ll have to work harder if I ever want to catch up with you.”

      Chelsea smiled, but she continued concentrating on her project. With focus like that, no wonder she was such a good student.

      After they’d worked together several minutes in silence, Chelsea glanced sidelong at him. “Can I ask you something, Uncle Alex?”

      “Sure.” He tried not to stiffen too much, imagining questions about enemy fire and terminal illness. Whatever it was, he would answer as honestly as he could.

      “Do you have a girlfriend?”

      Alex blinked. Okay, he hadn’t expected that one. “No. Why do you ask?”

      Without bothering to answer his question, she asked one of her own. “Why not?”

      He made a dismissive sound in his throat. “No time for that.”

      “Because of us.”

      He drew in a startled breath. “Oh, no, kiddo. I didn’t mean because of you. I’m just a busy guy.” He cleared his throat. Backpedaling was tough work. “It’s been great having you here.”

      She didn’t say anything, but he hoped her silence meant she’d forgiven him for his slip. He wasn’t blaming her and Brandon for his lack of a social life. He’d made that choice himself.

      “You should take Miss Fraser on a date.”

      Alex started shaking his head the moment the words were out of Chelsea’s mouth. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

      The only problem was that part of him thought it sounded like a pretty good idea. The part that wasn’t rational. The part that took risk for granted every time he donned his gear and climbed aboard the truck to go out on a run.

      He needed to ignore that dangerous part as much as he needed to forget about Chelsea’s suggestion. As the only adult here, he had to be the sensible one. He didn’t know whether he would be able to accomplish any of those things, but the one thing he knew for sure was that he wouldn’t be able to get Dinah Fraser out of his mind this evening, either.

      Chapter Four

      Alex used his forearm to swipe at the sweat on his forehead and started buffing the fire engine’s shine again. He didn’t care that his hands were already red, and a few blisters had popped out on his palms. By the time he was done with the job this morning, none of the pretty boys at the station would need to primp in the bathroom mirrors because they would be able to see themselves just as well in the truck’s shine.

      It hadn’t been his turn to wax. He’d volunteered, figuring he needed the workout with as many visits to the gym as he’d missed lately. The burn in his biceps convinced him he was right. That the manual labor helped him burn off some stress didn’t hurt, either.

      Busy trying to expend more energy, he didn’t notice anyone approaching until the man tapped him on the shoulder. He jerked around, coming to his feet at the same time.

      “Sorry about that, buddy.” The dark-headed man, similar in height and build to Alex, took a step back. He clasped a briefcase in his hands.

      Alex frowned. Good thing he’d chosen firefighting instead of police work because he’d probably be lying in a pool of his own blood by now. On the other hand, the guy standing across from him and scanning the perimeter of the room, probably looking for alternate exits, had to be a cop. In his line of work, Alex had been around enough of them to recognize one of the guys in blue when he met one.

      “May I help you?”

      “Yeah. Are you Alex Donovan?” The man waited for his nod before he continued. “My name is Ross Van Zandt, and I’m a private investigator working with Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency.”

      Alex swallowed, trying his best not to look surprised. “Good to meet you.” Wiping his filthy hand on a towel, he gripped the man’s hand.

      He would have remembered that name from the newspaper articles even if Ross hadn’t made the association to Tiny Blessings. Not that Alex had followed the reports that closely. Or calculated the dates. Or wondered.

      Ross patted his briefcase. “I have a private matter I’d like to discuss with you. Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

      The only private matter Alex could think of was one he wasn’t ready to discuss with anyone, much less allow the rest of the firefighters to overhear, so he glanced around the main bay. A few of the others were working in the office on the other side of the window, and two more had gone to pick up lunch.

      Alex cleared his throat