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The Match Maker by Karey White (The Husband Maker #2) (Summary contains spoilers if you have not yet read book #1 The Husband Maker) It’s been six months since Charlotte and Kyle broke up, and the Husband Maker strikes again. Kyle is officially engaged, while Charlotte is still nursing a broken heart. In an effort to get Charlotte out of her rut, she and her best friend decide it’s time for some good old-fashioned matchmaking. While Aleena arranges for Charlotte to meet up with a handsome Scottish tourist, Charlotte gets her two best friends together. But when sparks start to fly between Aleena and Angus, Charlotte is left feeling more alone that ever--at least until the charming Scotsman becomes more than just a safe, rebound guy and teaches her that maybe, just maybe, she can dare to open her heart again.
Excerpt
I should have felt uncomfortable talking about guys and dating with a man I was sort of dating for only the second time, but I didn’t. There was something strangely easy about talking to Flynn. Maybe it was the fact that he lived on the other side of the world that seemed to give me the freedom to say what I was thinking instead of filtering myself. Or maybe it was just that he was warm and friendly and had a quick, good-natured smile.
“Yeah. I’m still sad about that. He’s engaged now.” Flynn waited, like he expected me to say more. “But it’s not just him. I sort of have a dating reputation that isn’t easy to live with.”
“You have a reputation?”
I laughed. “That didn’t come out right. Does a girl having a ‘reputation’ mean the same in Scotland that it does here?” I put air quotes around “reputation.”
“Probably. But you don’t seem like a girl with that kind of reputation, so you must mean something else.”
I nodded. “I do.” And then I told Flynn about being called the husband maker. I didn’t go into specifics about every guy, but enough that he understood I wasn’t joking and that it was a well-earned nickname. He asked a few questions, but mostly he listened without laughing at me.
When I finished talking, he looked thoughtful for a few minutes. I started to think he had nothing to say about the sad tale I had just shared, but finally he spoke.
“You’re lookin’ at it as a bad thing, but I think that’s wrong.”
“There’s a good way to look at it?” I glanced at him skeptically.
“Ya make men think about growin’ up and settlin’ down. So they do.”
“With someone else.” I was glad I needed to watch the road. I didn’t want to look at him looking at me.
“I guess they weren’t the right one for you. But Charlotte—” why did I melt when he said my name?—“ya make them think gettin’ married would be a good thing. It might not be great for you, but I think you should take it as a compliment.”
I didn’t speak. For the second time in two days, someone had chiseled away at the shell that had been forming over my once hopeful heart. I blinked hard. It was one thing to feel comfortable enough with Flynn to tell him about my nickname. It was quite another to melt into a weepy mess when we hardly knew each other. But his words did something to me. They made me a little teary, but that wasn’t all. They softened some of that shell. For more than six months, fear had been calcifying there, making my hope harder and harder to find. Would every man find happiness with someone else? Would there ever be a man who found his happiness in me?
“Thanks, Flynn,” I finally said. I had never been so open about dating and my worries with a man before. I had always been afraid it made me look lacking in some way. But Flynn was easy to talk to. I wondered if it was because this was a short-term arrangement or if it was just Flynn. Whatever it was, the openness was nice.
“Maybe I should be the one who’s scared, aye?” His voice was teasing again.
“You sure you want to call this a date?” I asked. “Are you ready to go home and get married?”
“Ah, Charlotte. You don’t scare me at all.”
“Yeah. I’m still sad about that. He’s engaged now.” Flynn waited, like he expected me to say more. “But it’s not just him. I sort of have a dating reputation that isn’t easy to live with.”
“You have a reputation?”
I laughed. “That didn’t come out right. Does a girl having a ‘reputation’ mean the same in Scotland that it does here?” I put air quotes around “reputation.”
“Probably. But you don’t seem like a girl with that kind of reputation, so you must mean something else.”
I nodded. “I do.” And then I told Flynn about being called the husband maker. I didn’t go into specifics about every guy, but enough that he understood I wasn’t joking and that it was a well-earned nickname. He asked a few questions, but mostly he listened without laughing at me.
When I finished talking, he looked thoughtful for a few minutes. I started to think he had nothing to say about the sad tale I had just shared, but finally he spoke.
“You’re lookin’ at it as a bad thing, but I think that’s wrong.”
“There’s a good way to look at it?” I glanced at him skeptically.
“Ya make men think about growin’ up and settlin’ down. So they do.”
“With someone else.” I was glad I needed to watch the road. I didn’t want to look at him looking at me.
“I guess they weren’t the right one for you. But Charlotte—” why did I melt when he said my name?—“ya make them think gettin’ married would be a good thing. It might not be great for you, but I think you should take it as a compliment.”
I didn’t speak. For the second time in two days, someone had chiseled away at the shell that had been forming over my once hopeful heart. I blinked hard. It was one thing to feel comfortable enough with Flynn to tell him about my nickname. It was quite another to melt into a weepy mess when we hardly knew each other. But his words did something to me. They made me a little teary, but that wasn’t all. They softened some of that shell. For more than six months, fear had been calcifying there, making my hope harder and harder to find. Would every man find happiness with someone else? Would there ever be a man who found his happiness in me?
“Thanks, Flynn,” I finally said. I had never been so open about dating and my worries with a man before. I had always been afraid it made me look lacking in some way. But Flynn was easy to talk to. I wondered if it was because this was a short-term arrangement or if it was just Flynn. Whatever it was, the openness was nice.
“Maybe I should be the one who’s scared, aye?” His voice was teasing again.
“You sure you want to call this a date?” I asked. “Are you ready to go home and get married?”
“Ah, Charlotte. You don’t scare me at all.”
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The Husband Maker by Karey White
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Coming Spring 2015
The conclusion to The Husband Maker Series
The Wife Maker by Karey White
Author Karey White Karey White grew up in Utah, Idaho, Oregon, and Missouri. She attended Ricks College and Brigham Young University. Her first novel, Gifted, was a Whitney Award Finalist. She loves to travel, read, bake treats, and spend time with family and friends. She and her husband are the parents of four great children. She teaches summer creative writing courses to young people and is currently working on her next book.
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