Make Me A Match: Baby, Baby / The Matchmaker Wore Skates / Suddenly Sophie. Melinda Curtis

edged Nadine out of the mirror space. “It was actually kind of nice not to hear them.”

      Nadine pumped the brush in the mascara tube. “All they talk about is fishing and hunting and hockey.”

      “And the weather.” Mary Jo gave up wiping. She threw the towels in the trash. “And the road conditions. And...I don’t know. Boring stuff?”

      “What would you like them to talk about?” Nora asked, rubbing Zoe’s back.

      Silence. More exchanged looks, as if they were afraid to spill some mighty secret.

      “Okay, I’ll say it.” Nadine turned to Nora, hand on hip. “I’d like to talk about me. And hear about him. What did he think of a movie we’ve both seen? What does he think about the roof that caved in from snow at the elementary school? It’s like their conversational skills are buried beneath their beards.”

      The women nodded. Nora silently agreed. That described a lot of men she knew.

      Except Coop.

      “What’s the point?” Tatiana gave up trying to fluff her hair. “The men in this town don’t try. They can’t even be bothered to shave beyond once a year. Ty and Mike don’t shave at all. It’s got to be better in the Lower 48.”

      Nora wasn’t so sure.

      * * *

      “THAT WAS A DISASTER,” Ty muttered, meeting Coop’s gaze in the mirror of the men’s room where Coop was cleaning up at the sink so he could hold Zoe.

      “A mushroom cloud of disaster,” Gideon added, leaning against the wall.

      “I hear you,” Coop said. “I might have salvaged the day if Mike made me an offer for that red Suburban.”

      “Are you giving up?” Ty’s beard practically quivered with anger.

      “No,” Coop said carefully, unable to ignore the gut-twisting feeling of impending failure. “But have you ever wondered if we were meant to stay here?”

      Ty’s expression turned mushroom-cloud dark. “You. Of all people.” He flung open the door hard enough to make it bang against the wall.

      “Seriously,” Gideon said. “It’s as though Nora came to town and you lost your edge. We need the shark who can sell a car to a guy who’s got twenty.” He stalked out.

      Had Coop lost his edge? He looked in the mirror. Beard? Check. Flannel? Check. Hadn’t he just taken an ATV through sloppy terrain? Yes, he had. There was no issue with his edge or salesmanship. Except...

      He washed dishes. He changed wet diapers. He had a car seat in his truck.

      It’ll all be worth it if Nora stays.

      His Y chromosome banged a protest in his chest, demanding the return of his maleness, of his drive for his dreams. Coop looked in the mirror. Twenty years he’d had this dream. He wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Did that make him a bad dad?

      Coop went out to face the music: twelve singles who’d complained bitterly about the cold, muddy conditions all the way down Sky Hawk Mountain and two good friends who deserved his all.

      Nora stood by the bar arguing with Gideon and Ty. Zoe lay in the portable bassinet at her feet, cooing softly.

      “She might have a point,” Gideon was saying.

      Ty had the fingers of one hand splayed upward through his thick beard, covering his mouth.

      “What’s up?” Coop draped an arm casually over Nora’s shoulders. She startled, but didn’t shrug him off.

      “She wants all of us to shave.” Eyes wide, Ty curled his fingers in his facial hair. “And it’s not even March.”

      Nora wanted it?

      The urge to say, “Take me to your razor” was almost overwhelming. Instead, Coop said, “All of us?” in a tremulous voice.

      “Yes, all.” Nora shrugged off his arm. “The women shaved. And ironed their clothes. And put on lipstick. What did you and your guys do?”

      “We gassed up the vehicles,” Coop said matter-of-factly, despite a very small voice in his head counseling him to shut up and shave.

      “And?” Nora waited to hear more. When there was no more, she shot them a look of blue-eyed disgust. “My point exactly.” She picked up Zoe and met Coop’s gaze squarely. “Where’s the nearest barbershop? Maybe I can get one of the braver men here to shave, because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s half measures.”

      Translation: Coop had earned the same loser stamp as Nora’s dad. How many points had that cost him?

      “You mean, you want us to shave now?” Ty looked as though he might faint. His beard covered the worst of his scar. “That’s not how we do things here.”

      “Look around.” Nora gestured to the bar crowd. “The guys are sitting together by the windows and the women are sitting together along the wall. It’s a social. Shouldn’t they be socializing?”

      Three men took in the situation. Three men remained silent. Three men who claimed they’d do anything to win the bet were balking over facial hair. And in Coop’s case, it wasn’t even good facial hair.

      Mike stood, heading toward the door. Had he heard his beard—the longest in town—was at risk?

      “Kiss your matchmaking hobby goodbye.” Nora huffed. “It was all a stupid game to you anyway, but it was serious to your friends. I guess that proves what kind of friends you really are.”

      “We already knew about Coop,” Ty muttered.

      Gideon didn’t speak or move.

      But Nora did. She walked away, carrying Zoe in the bassinet. It felt as if she was leaving for good.

      The bet was demolishing Coop’s friendships and destroying his chance at being a father. If Coop didn’t do something, his friends would never speak to him again. And Nora? She’d walk away tomorrow, taking Zoe with her. Forever.

      “We’re not losing anything.” Coop found his determination, his pride. “Get your parka, Nora. This was your idea.” He raised his voice. “This social isn’t over. Guys, get your coats. Every man is coming with me. Ladies, you stay here until we return.” Coop was on a mission. “Mike, I need you to open the barbershop.”

      “Mike is the town barber?” Nora was flabbergasted. “You’re in more trouble than I thought.”