Matchmaker Backfire - Flora Ferrari


Twenty years working oil rigs and I’m done. I’ve made enough money to cash out and what better way to settle into the idea of eternal, well-off bachelorhood than by joining my best friend Greg in Vermont for some skiing?

His daughter Serena’s coming too, she finished college last summer, so it’s a time to celebrate freedoms.

Little do I know, it’s also Greg who’s trying to set me up with a complete stranger on the same holiday.

A romance I know I don’t care for, even want to think about once I see Serena again.

My Serena.

It’s something I can’t deny, I have to claim her as my own, I will claim her.

Regardless of the consequences.


What would an older guy like Carter Everett ever see in a younger girl like me?

He could have any woman he wants, the man’s a freaking god.

But dad seems determined to matchmake him, my Carter with some bimbo Barbie doll from a dating app.

Oh, did I mention I’ve had a wet patch for Carter since I learned what it means for a young woman to crave a man?

A real man.

I have the photo to prove it, the only thing that got me through college.

But worse than knowing dad’s trying to set up my biggest crush, is thinking if I don’t go on this trip I’m might never see Carter again.

It’s a fool’s hope, but it’s all I have. And I’m willing to risk it.

Even if it’s only to see Carter Everett in the flesh one more time.

*Matchmaker Backfire is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.


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Chapter One


“Well? What do you think?” My dad asks triumphantly, thrusting his phone in front of me, an image of what looks like a living throwaway Malibu Barbie doll staring back at me over my morning coffee.

“Dad, please. I’m trying to eat.”

He sighs patiently, creasing the corners of his mouth.

“If you’re that lonely, go for it. But I’m sure even you could do better than that,” I mumble, gently pushing his hand with the phone in it away.

“Not me, silly. For Carter,” he exclaims louder, making my ears ring once I feel my stomach drop. Threatening to heave up the coffee I almost just enjoyed.

“What?” I ask him icily, my mug making a loud bang as it hits the table. The thought of Carter and that thing in the same sentence, let alone the same room makes me feel ill.

“Now, don’t be such a negative Nelly, sweetie. Carter’s not getting any younger either. I think he just needs a little nudge in the romance department,” he says, raising his brows a few times, puckering his mouth.

I can almost hear myself scowling, my eyes narrowing in on my dad, as though he’s the enemy.

But he’s not.

It’s her, whoever she is. And if it isn’t her, then it would be anyone else who wasn’t me.

I know Carter wouldn’t look twice at me, never has.

But then again, the last time I saw him I was way too young for anything like that. I hadn’t even started high school let alone finished college. Which was late last year.

How time flies. Carter’s not the only one whose clock is ticking.

And if he isn’t the single biggest crush I’ve had on anyone ever since I can remember.

“…I just did some friendly snooping. Like a good best friend should,” My dad smiles, pleased with his efforts.

“Then I kinda set up a dating profile for Carter… and Voila! I’ve invited her to join us in Vermont,” he adds, ignoring my demonic and hate-filled face.

I’ve never been a morning person.

But I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Apart from being so not like my dad to do that, I know it’s the last thing Carter would approve of.

At least, I think he wouldn’t.

Hope he wouldn’t.

“Then I’m not going,” I hear myself huff briskly. I can even feel my lower lip trembling as I scrape my chair back across the wooden floor.

“You can both have her,” I shout at my dad, his jaw dropping in disbelief.

“I hate her. I hate Vermont and I hate you!” I scream, hearing my feet thud up the stairs to my room, slamming the door and hurling myself onto my bed.

How could dad do something like this?

How could Carter let him?

I want to blame them both, but it’s really my own delusion that’s slapped me in the face.

As if Carter Everett, the man