A Perfect Match

Her gaze made a quick sweep around the room before settling solidly on Zeke. She lifted one eyebrow, as if asking a question.

He didn’t know the answer, so he shrugged.

Apparently, that was the answer she was looking for, because she grinned like a cat and beelined for him as if he were the proverbial mouse. With the gleam in her eye, he thought he just might be. He slung his hammer into his belt and accepted her friendly hug.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Lakeisha burst out excitedly. “You’re just the right man.”

Zeke frowned, furrowing his eyebrows low over his eyes. “Thank you.” He paused and grinned thoughtfully. “I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” Lakeisha assured him. “Where’s your coat?”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Just outside. Julia needs your help.”

His heart jump-started with a vengeance, and his scowl deepened. He was elated, but he didn’t want Lakeisha to pick up on that.

“At your service, ma’am,” he said, shrugging into his lined jean jacket. With a grim half smile, he gestured Lakeisha out the door ahead of him.

Zeke spotted Julia’s car immediately, parked just out the door, pulled in backward with the trunk open. Julia leaned negligently against the rear bumper, her arms crossed in front of her. Her black jeans and pink sweatshirt only served to make her cheeks look flushed and beautiful, even in the muted light of the parking lot.

Her eyes widened noticeably when she saw him. He grinned, wondering if that was good or bad.

“See, I told you,” Lakeisha crowed from behind him.

Julia glared at her over his shoulder. Lakeisha just laughed.

“Told her what?” he asked, wondering if he really wanted to know. Clearly, whatever they’d been discussing involved him, either directly or indirectly.

“It was nothing,” Julia muttered immediately.

Again, Lakeisha chuckled.

“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, changing the subject, hoping to quell the internal power struggle going on between the roommates. It was friendly tension, but tension none the less.

He swiftly decided he really didn’t want to know the cause.

“I was going to haul these boxes of baby things into the church so I can wrap them up for distribution,” Julia explained, gesturing toward her trunk. “Lakeisha, however, thought we needed a man’s help. Scarlett O’Hara and all that.”

Comprehension unfolded around him in waves, and he smothered a grin. “If we all go in together, I’ll bet we can get this stuff in one trip,” he suggested quietly, careful not to look at Julia, lest she see the gleam of amusement in his eye.

Julia didn’t let him off the hook that easily. She took his arm and pulled him around to meet her gaze. She studied him carefully, and Zeke put all his energies into counseling his features and swallowing the huge lump in his throat that formed when he stared into her beautiful eyes.

He was about to break away when suddenly she smiled. Zeke’s heart stopped cold.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” he asked, ignoring his scratchy throat.

Taking refuge in activity, he loaded Lakeisha’s arms with boxes, then turned to do the same with Julia. He was careful not to overload them—he could easily get the bulk of the boxes himself.

He didn’t want to insult Julia in the process, so he made sure he gave her a decent armful.

“These are all from local community bins,” Julia said over her shoulder as she moved toward the door.

Zeke was impressed by the quality and quantity of items the community gave.

He followed the women into the church and down a long hallway, into a vacant Sunday school room. From the look of the pictures on the wall, he thought it might be a younger grade. Lots of bright colors, depicting major Bible characters with round, smiling faces and rosy pink cheeks.

“What are you going to do with this stuff now?” he asked, dumping the load in his arms into one corner.

“We’re going to wrap all these gifts up in pretty baby-shower paper,” Lakeisha said brightly, a cunning gleam in her friendly black eyes. “I don’t suppose you transport and gift wrap?”

Zeke chuckled loudly, as much at the way Julia cringed as by the question itself. “I think I may surprise you.”

Lakeisha took him up on his boast. “This I’ve got to see.” She immediately began digging around in the Sunday school cubby for scissors and tape.

With an audible sigh, Julia moved to one of the boxes and pulled out the gift wrap. “You did this to yourself,” she reminded him, handing him a tube of baby-blue paper covered with big, fluffy white clouds and brown cows jumping over orange crescent moons.

Lakeisha placed the scissors and tape on the table, then retrieved a baby monitor in a rectangular box and set it before him.

“You’re not even going to challenge me?” he asked, with a wink at Julia. “How can I prove real men gift wrap if all you give me is a box?”

Julia laughed, the high, bell-toned chime like the ones that filled Zeke’s dreams. “Here. Try this one.” She shoved a stuffed monkey into his arms. It was brown and tan and held a half-peeled banana in one hand. “No more straight edges and square corners for you to deal with. But don’t squeeze the banana.”

Zeke, of course, squeezed the banana.

The monkey let out a screech worthy of its real-life jungle counterpart, and Zeke laughed. “That’s more like it. Now watch, ladies, and learn at the hands of a master.”

Lakeisha and Julia burst into laughter, and he waggled his eyebrows.

Without another word, he measured, cut, folded and taped with the accuracy of years of carpentry and the dedication of his loving mother’s early training.

The women watched, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He struggled not to grin. It served them right. And he had to admit he liked this, being the center of female attention, most particularly Julia’s.

“I beg your pardon, Zeke,” Lakeisha said as he finished. “I have misjudged your talent and ability with gift wrap.”

He held up his big hands. “It’s an easy mistake to make.”

“I wasn’t talking about your hands,” Lakeisha admitted.

“The hands of an artist,” Julia acknowledged softly, and Zeke stood a good two inches taller.

“You know,” Julia continued, “you’re just the sort of person I need for my planning committee. The special dinner is coming up, you know. Would you consider it?”

Zeke swallowed hard. He tried to force clumsy words through his dry throat, but nothing would come.

“You really should,” Lakeisha encouraged. “I certainly underestimated your…”

“Artistic skills?” he provided hoarsely.