Small-Town Cinderella
Small-Town Cinderella
Stacy Connelly
CHECKLIST FOR THE PERFECT PRINCE CHARMING:• Tall, dark and handsome• Passionate• Thoroughly devoted• Capable of spontaneity• Someone who is not Drew Pirelli!After years of putting other people first, Debbie Mattson is ready to look for her own happily-ever-after. Clearville’s favourite baker is determined to leave her small home town and find her perfect man – someplace far away. The last person she would ever consider dating is her childhood friend Drew Pirelli. He’s a homebody, loves small-town life and is ready to settle down. She’s convinced he is Mr Wrong. And then one magical kiss changes everything…
“I thought you might be cold out here.” He held up the shawl.
“Well, thank you,” she said as she reached for the pink material, “but I can take care of myself.”
Drew didn’t doubt it. Debbie had been on her own since her mother died. “I know you can. But once in a while, it’s nice to have someone take care of you.”
Sliding the shawl from her hands, he draped the material over her shoulders, keeping hold of both ends. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But I don’t need—”
“This isn’t about need,” he interrupted. “It’s about want.”
Debbie swallowed. “Want?”
“It’s like … dessert. Not something you need but certainly something you crave.”
“And let me guess. You’re craving something sweet.” The sardonic twist on the word told Drew what Debbie thought of that description—one he’d been guilty of using in the past.
“I was thinking more along the lines of something rich, decadent, a little sinful even.”
Debbie’s eyes widened, huge and sparkling in the faint light streaming through the French doors. He’d gone too far, he thought.
* * *
The Pirelli Brothers: These California boys know what love is all about!
Small-Town
Cinderella
Stacy Connelly
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
STACY CONNELLY has dreamed of publishing books since she was a kid, writing stories about a girl and her horse. Eventually, boys made it onto the page as she discovered a love of romance and the promise of happily ever after.
When she is not lost in the land of make-believe, Stacy lives in Arizona with her two spoiled dogs. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at stacyconnelly@cox.net (mailto:stacyconnelly@cox.net) or www.stacyconnelly.com (http://www.stacyconnelly.com).
To the staff at The Red Garter Bed & Breakfast in Williams, Arizona. Thanks for answering my questions about running a small-town bakery.
Contents
Cover (#u5414fcae-669c-5e68-bdf5-1c1159dc0c0a)
Introduction (#u55c30b53-55ad-544b-82b1-c4994666d47d)
Title Page (#u01fb1dde-cfa9-592b-a1e3-1f8c0d718659)
About the Author (#uddd94c1e-b363-5312-91b4-256a88e116e0)
Dedication (#ua3995e9a-3551-5644-8b2a-e76e8058cf1e)
Chapter One (#uc4b17971-07ee-50fb-8dda-ddc645faf864)
Chapter Two (#u4ad3f2f6-a96c-5a46-9345-d34b945fd03b)
Chapter Three (#u0d335d72-ad89-5da9-90e6-7370d311171a)
Chapter Four (#u3d3c17a0-b188-5bf9-8c03-156cca82a7aa)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_91735ff3-4f99-5d77-b7fe-84fb979eacb1)
“To the newlywed and the two brides-to-be,” Debbie Mattson said as she raised her margarita to her friends. “May you always be as lucky in life as you have been in love.”
Darcy Dawson, the bachelorette of their party, lifted her green-apple martini. “To luck and life and love,” she echoed.
The four women—Debbie, Darcy, Sophia Pirelli Cameron and the newest member of the group, Kara Starling—had gathered at The Clearville Bar and Grille for Darcy’s final send-off as a single woman. The rustic bar was a favorite locale for tourists and townies alike with its flat-screen televisions for the sports lovers and small dance floor for music lovers. Had Debbie been in charge of the bachelorette party, she might have tried for something a little more exciting than dinner and drinks, but Darcy was clearly having a good time, and that was all that mattered.
Six months pregnant, dark-haired Sophia sipped at her own cranberry juice. If Debbie had ever seen a woman with a pregnancy glow, it was her friend, who looked adorable in a floral skirt and long-sleeved pink peasant blouse draped over her round belly. Of course, it just as easily could have been a newlywed glow, as Sophia had married Jake Cameron the previous summer.
Love clearly agreed with Sophia and seemed to be first and foremost on her mind as she exchanged a glance with Darcy and Kara before looking over at Debbie. “With the three of us already finding our guys, you know what that means, right? It’s your turn now.”
Debbie held on to her smile even though she groaned inside. How many times had she heard that over the past few months? Ever since her friends had met their soul mates, they’d set their sights on the only single member left in their circle. At times, she felt very much the lone sheep about to be set upon by wolves. Cunning, devious, matchmaking wolves.
Show no fear, she thought to herself, knowing if she wavered even slightly she was dead meat.
“I’m happy for all of you, I really am. But I’m nowhere near ready to settle down. I’m finally at a place in my life where I have time to look for a little adventure and excitement.”
“And romance?” Darcy chimed in slyly.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to having, oh, say...a red-hot fling.” Debbie took another sip of her margarita, the salty, tart combination making her taste buds tingle while the alcohol warmed her to her subject. “With a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll take me completely by surprise and keep me on my toes.”
“Now you’re talking,” the gorgeous redhead said with a grin.
“Excuse me?” Kara protested, using a look her friends had dubbed her “professor glare.” “Need I remind you that you’re getting married this weekend?”
Lifting up her hands in an innocent gesture she couldn’t quite pull off while still holding her martini glass, the bride-to-be retorted, “All the more reason to live vicariously through Debbie’s escapades. So tell us more about this mystery man.”
Feeling heat rush to her face, Debbie set aside her margarita. “Well, I can tell you one thing. I’m certainly not going to find him here,” she said wryly.
“At the bar?” Kara asked.
“Not here at the bar. Not here in Clearville.” A quick glance around their section of the restaurant confirmed what Debbie already expected.
She knew every single guy in the place. More than that, even; she’d known them all for years. If she thought back, she could picture any number of their embarrassing, awkward moments that were part and parcel of growing up in a small town.
Billy Cummings, the sheriff’s son, had gone on a football kick after seeing his first professional game and had worn a miniature helmet 24/7 for weeks on end. Mark Thompson had had the biggest crush on their freshman English teacher, and his brother, Bruce, swore the garage band he was in would make it big even though none of the members could actually play an instrument. Then there was Darrell Nelson and the cruel pranks he used to play, bullying anyone who was smaller and weaker than he was.
She remembered it all, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she was well aware they remembered all the awkward growing pains she’d gone through, too.
Mystery? Romance? Excitement?
Not a chance, she thought with a sigh.
“Look, just forget everything I said. This is what happens when a milk-and-cookies girl starts hitting the tequila and lime,” she joked, hoping her friends would be as willing to laugh off her comments.
She should have known she wouldn’t be so lucky.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting some romance in your life,” Kara told her.
At first, Debbie had wondered about the quietly serious college professor marrying Sophia’s fun-loving, outgoing brother Sam. But over the past few weeks, Debbie had gotten to know Kara and to see the warm heart behind the classy blonde’s cool exterior.
“And I highly recommend having a gorgeous guy sweep you off your feet.” Darcy grinned. “But why are you totally discounting the whole Clearville male population? I speak from personal experience when I say my guy is anything but boring.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Kara said as she lifted her glass of chardonnay to tap against Darcy’s appletini.
Their smiles shone with newfound love, though Debbie had a hard time picturing Nick and Sam Pirelli as romantic, sweep-a-girl-off-her-feet types. They’d always been more like big brothers to her—sometimes sweet, sometimes annoying, always overprotective big brothers.
That was something Sophia as the youngest Pirelli and only girl could certainly understand. After exchanging a look with her friend, Debbie argued, “It’s different for the two of you. Neither of you grew up here, so to you, Clearville guys are mysterious and exciting. But for me, these are the guys I’ve known forever. The boys next door. No mystery, no excitement, no sparks.”
All that was bad enough. Worse was knowing the male population of the town viewed her the same way. The girl next door. The buddy, the pal, the friend whose shoulder they cried on when the popular, pretty girls turned them down.
She winced at the memory when she thought of the name that had followed her since her days at Redwood Elementary School, thanks in part to the bakery her mother owned and the sweets that had filled her lunches and helped fill out her waistline. She’d never been “little” anything, and while she’d known the nickname was mostly a lighthearted tease, it had hurt all the same.
Now she was the owner of Bonnie’s Bakery, and the years of taking care of her mother after she’d fallen ill and spending all her free time at the bakery had toughened her like overkneaded dough. Her feelings weren’t so easily injured anymore, though she’d suffered a setback thanks to her last boyfriend.
She and Robert Watkins had dated casually for several months earlier in the year, and things had finally started to get serious over the summer. Serious enough for them to sleep together.
Debbie still wasn’t sure which was worse, the pain of heartbreak or the pain of humiliation as she remembered that fateful weekend, and how he’d picked the very next day to tell her he thought they’d be better off just being friends.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the breakup hadn’t dragged her back to her high school insecurities. To being every guy’s friend, the buddy they could talk to about the prettier, more popular girls they liked. She thought she’d gotten over that. She was over it. But Debbie couldn’t pretend the split with Robert hadn’t brought back a lot of bad memories.
Memories she was determined to overcome. She was woman enough to have confidence in herself, to know what she wanted and to go after it.
“I’m not sure you’re giving these guys enough credit,” Darcy argued. “There are some nice men around here who’d be thrilled to know you’re looking for a boyfriend.” Her eyes lit suddenly. “What about Jarrett Deeks? He and Nick have gotten to be friends working together at Jarrett’s horse rescue. We could set up a double date if you want.”
Debbie cringed slightly at the thought. “No, thank you, Darcy. I’m sure Jarrett’s great and all, but a double date isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Her friend’s brow furrowed. “But if you’re looking for a relationship—”
“I’m not,” she interrupted. “Not really.”
“A not-really relationship?” Kara echoed.
“I’m not looking for anything that serious.” Debbie stabbed her straw at the ice cubes lingering at the bottom of her glass. “I just want to have some fun.” Leaning back against the padded booth, she said, “I feel like I missed out on so much growing up, you know?”
“Actually, we don’t.” Kara leaned forward, her expression open and interested. “You talk a lot without saying much about yourself.”
Debbie blinked, startled by her friend’s comment. “I don’t do that...do I?” She knew she liked to talk, and the more nervous she became, the more she said—often without saying much at all. But she didn’t like to think she fell into that pattern even with her friends. It sounded...selfish. Like she expected them to open their hearts and spill their guts while she kept all her emotions inside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“Sweetie, it’s not a criticism. Just a comment.”
“And I do know what you mean, Deb,” Sophia interjected as she shifted forward in the booth as far as her pregnant belly would allow. “So many of us grew up together that we don’t go around talking about past history because everyone knows everything.”
“But we’re new.” Darcy’s nod included Kara as she added, “So you can tell us all your old stories without worrying that we’ve heard them before.”
“Well, okay, but just because you haven’t heard it all before doesn’t mean it isn’t still boring. My dad was in the military and was killed overseas when I was really young, so growing up, it was just me and my mom. I was still in high school when she was diagnosed with cancer.”
Debbie could still remember walking into the bakery after school that day, the scent of vanilla and chocolate strong in the air. She’d been so excited. Posters had decorated the hall for the homecoming dance, and she’d been so sure that that year someone would ask her to go. She even had the perfect dress picked out, her teenage head filled with plans for the future.
“I could tell right away something was wrong, and when she told me— It was like a nightmare. Something that couldn’t be true. But it was.”
Clearing her throat, she said, “Anyway, my mom always was a fighter, so she went through all the tests and surgeries and treatments, all while still trying to run the bakery. For a while, I thought about dropping out of school, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I took as few classes as I could to get by, quit all extracurricular activities, and I worked in the bakery every spare second I had. A few hours before school and then from the minute I got out until close.”
She’d never bought that dress. Had never attended that homecoming dance or any other dance in high school. The bakery became Debbie’s life the way it had always been her mother’s before that.
“It was all I could do.... I couldn’t make her better, but I could make the cupcakes,” she concluded with a watery laugh.
Shaking off the sorrows of the past, she protested, “This is not the conversation for a bachelorette party! Here I’m talking about wanting to have fun, and yet I’m the one bringing everyone down.”
“You aren’t. I think what you did was amazing, and I know a little of what you went through,” Darcy confided.
Debbie knew her friend had lost her mother a few years ago. It was that loss that had prompted Darcy to move to her mother’s hometown and open the beauty shop the two of them had always dreamed of owning. Darcy had shared that with Debbie not long after they met, and yet she hadn’t thought to confide in her friend about her own past, despite what the two of them had in common. Was it like Sophia said, and Debbie simply expected everyone to already know her life story, or was there more to it?
Saving that thought for another time, Debbie said, “Thank you, but it didn’t feel like much. Still, I knew how much the bakery meant to my mom, and I did all I could to keep the doors open so she could concentrate on getting better. And for a while, she did. The cancer went into remission for a few years before it came back, but the second time there was no fighting it.”
And after her mother had passed away, it was just Debbie and the bakery. Working long hours to numb the sense of loss and to slowly accept the bakery now was her future. The dreams she’d had in high school of attending culinary school and becoming a chef had slipped way as she’d kneaded dough and rolled out cookies and decorated cupcakes. But somehow, as those hours turned into days and weeks and years, a minor miracle had taken place.
The reputation of the small-town shop had grown.
Business had increased thanks to Debbie establishing an online presence. Now her loyal customers didn’t have to wait for their yearly trip to the tourist town to order her desserts. They could cater to their craving for something sweet with a few clicks of a mouse, and Debbie could ship her cookies and cheesecakes straight to their door.
She’d even gained the attention of Just Desserts magazine. The article had praised her double-chocolate cake and strawberry-filled vanilla cupcakes. As pleased as she was with the recognition, Debbie couldn’t help feeling like, well, a fraud. Those were her mother’s recipes, and Bonnie should have been the one to bask in the glow of the reporter’s praise.
But the article, along with the increase in business, had inspired Debbie to hire on more help. Over the years, she’d frequently paid local teens to run the front register. But Kayla Walker, a young mother who’d moved to Clearville with her boyfriend after she’d inherited a house from her late grandfather, was the first employee Debbie had trained to do the actual baking.
Thanks to Kayla, Debbie now had the chance to expand the menu a bit. To offer her mother’s tried-and-true recipes as well as some not-so-vanilla recipes of her own. And with the rush of engagements lately, she was also getting the opportunity to shift her attention from everyday cupcakes and muffins to once-in-a-lifetime wedding cakes.
Working with the bride and groom to find the perfect flavor and filling combinations was a challenge she enjoyed. And then there was the decorating—the literal icing on the cake. The creativity and artistry of building the multiple layers, of designing the perfect flowers and ribbons and scrollwork... She loved every step of the detailed work.
And while she might be a complete flop when it came to love and romance, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a believer in other couples’ happily ever afters. Her friends were all proof that loves of a lifetime did exist, and while Debbie couldn’t be more pleased, she wasn’t looking to join them.
For the first time in nearly a decade, she had time. Time to think, to breathe, to hang up her apron and have some fun. And if her mother’s death had taught her anything, it was that life was short, and Debbie was determined to make the most of it.
“So maybe that’s why I’m not looking to settle down,” she concluded. “I’ve been too settled already, too serious and dedicated throughout what should have been the best years of my life. I know the three of you have found the guys of your dreams, and I’m happy for you all, but that’s just not what I’m looking for.”
“Debbie wants Mr. Excitement,” Sophia said with a wink.
“Mr. Mysterious,” Darcy seconded.
“Here’s to finding Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome,” Kara added.
Still feeling a little ridiculous for spelling out her dream man to her friends, Debbie lifted her glass. “I will definitely drink to that.”
Draining the last of her margarita, she admitted finding an exciting and mysterious man was only half the wish. Finding a man who thought she was exciting and mysterious...now, that would be a fantasy come true.
* * *
Drew Pirelli was not a man given to eavesdropping. Living in Clearville his whole life, he was very familiar with its grapevine and the wildfire spread of small-town gossip. He preferred to mind his own business with the somewhat vain hope others would do the same. Neither was he the type to spy on his sister and future sisters-in-law.
If he’d known drinks at the bar and grill were part of the plan for Darcy’s bachelorette party, he would have stayed away. Far away. But he’d been somewhat out of the Pirelli family loop recently, something his parents had commented on more than once. He’d used work as a handy excuse, and he was busy running his construction company, but that was only part of the reason why he’d avoided family gatherings recently.
How was it, he wondered, that he was the last unattached Pirelli sibling?
Ever since the custom-home side of his business had taken off, Drew had started each project with his own future family in mind. He pictured his wife and family gathered together in the kitchen. His kids watching television or playing games in the den. The woman he loved welcoming him to bed in the spacious master suite.
And yet at the end of each project, he turned the keys over to some other man who would live with his wife and children in the house Drew had painstakingly built.
The nagging dissatisfaction of giving away a piece of himself in each of his houses had convinced him to start building his own place. But that had created another frustration. His attention to detail, the dream of making a house into his home, had helped Drew cement his reputation as one of the most sought-after contractors in Northern California. Because of that, he was having trouble finding time to work on his own project while managing the custom-home business as well as the rental cabins he was currently building for Jarrett Deeks.
Not that it was all bad. Professionally, he was as rock solid as the houses he built. On a personal level, though, he couldn’t seem to find his footing.
And that was the real reason he’d been keeping his distance from his family. He was tired of being the third, fifth, heck, even the ninth wheel, depending on how many of his relatives showed up.
Which was how he’d ended up completely out of the loop when it came to Darcy’s bachelorette party.
When he’d first recognized the female voices coming from the other side of the half wall separating the two rows of booths, he’d slid across the padded seat, ready to slip away unnoticed. Though no expert at bachelorette parties, he knew enough to realize guys weren’t allowed.
But before he could push to his feet, the words drifting over from the other side of the booth nailed him to the spot.
I wouldn’t be opposed to having a red-hot fling with a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll take completely by surprise and keep me on my toes.
It wasn’t the words that had knocked his feet out from under him. It was shock at the swift, unexpected kick of desire he felt when he heard them.
Drew had known Debbie Mattson her entire life. His earliest memories of her were of her standing on tiptoe to peek up over the counter at her mother’s bakery, her big blue eyes sparkling as she flashed her dimples at every customer to walk through the door. She was the typical girl next door. Sweet, friendly, cute. She was his kid sister’s friend, but her words pointed out a truth he’d been denying for the past several months.
Debbie wasn’t a kid anymore.
His knuckles whitened around the cool glass bottle, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to fight so hard not to follow his first instinct. An instinct logic told him was completely irrational. If he did what he longed to do, opened his mouth and spouted off like some kind of idiot about nice girls staying home and waiting for the right kind of guy to come along, Debbie would likely knock his block off, and he’d deserve it.
Debbie was a grown woman now. A beautiful woman, he was reminded as he thought back to Sophia’s wedding a few months earlier.
The wedding had been a small affair, with the reception held in their parents’ backyard. Already a few months pregnant at the time, his sister had wanted to keep things quiet and low-key. She’d still felt a little insecure about returning home after leaving town five years before following a break-in at The Hope Chest, the local antiques shop she now managed. Though Sophia hadn’t been involved in the burglary and vandalism, she’d taken the blame. Feelings of guilt had kept her away until their parents’ anniversary party brought her back—with her former boyfriend, Jake Cameron, hot on her heels.
Like the rest of the family, Drew had been happy his sister had fallen in love with a good man who was clearly in love with her. The day of the wedding, Sophia had looked beautiful in her off-white gown with pale pink roses woven into her dark hair, and her new husband hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.
But it was Debbie, Sophia’s maid of honor, who kept drawing Drew’s attention. Something she’d evidently noticed as their gazes met before she made her way across lush green lawn. The pale pink gown hugged her curves and left the fair skin of her shoulders and arms bare. Her blond hair was caught up in a cascade of ringlets, and her blue eyes glittered in the white lights strung between the trees. “You should know, Drew, my money’s on you.”
“Excuse me?”
“The bet on whether you or Sam will be the next to fall,” Debbie said, referring to his younger, footloose brother.
“Seriously? People are placing bets?”
“You better believe it,” she retorted. “And my money’s on you all the way. Sam’s not the type to settle down while you, well, you’re about as settled as any guy I’ve ever met.”
“Sorry, Debbie, I couldn’t tell. Was that an insult or a compliment?”
Tipping her head back, she gave a boisterous laugh guaranteed to turn every male head her way. “Oh, that was a compliment. If I decide to insult you, trust me when I say you’ll feel it.”
“So you think I’m settled?” he asked, falling back on the teasing, brotherly attitude that had long marked their relationship, even as he felt that balance start to shift in a way he couldn’t explain.
“You’re as grounded as a man can be and still manage to move both feet.”
At the time, her teasing comments hadn’t bothered him. Much. But now Debbie’s voice reached inside him and threatened to shake something loose. The excitement, the anticipation, the “what if” underscoring her words struck a chord inside him that had been still and silent far too long.
But Debbie wasn’t the woman who should be striking those notes. She was a friend, a good friend, and thinking of her in any other way just seemed...wrong. For Drew, dating had always been something of a game, a battle of the sexes he only engaged in on a level playing field. He liked women who were sophisticated and experienced and not the type to have their hearts easily broken. Women very unlike Debbie, who, despite the girl talk going on one booth over, had a tender and innocent heart she hid behind a smart mouth and sassy smile.
The hell of it was that he liked her. A lot. Too much, maybe, for him to ask her out and risk Debbie getting hurt. And getting hurt was exactly what might happen if she was serious about going after her mysterious stranger.
Judging from the sounds coming from the other booth, the women were getting ready to leave. Drew set his beer aside and half rose, ready to circle around to the other side of the restaurant and tell Debbie—what, exactly? That she shouldn’t—couldn’t—go after the adventure and excitement she was looking for?
She was young, beautiful, single. After the years of caring for her mother and running the bakery, she had every right to go after what she wanted. Any man would jump at the chance to fulfill the longing he’d heard in Debbie’s voice.
Or more like any other man because Drew just didn’t think of Debbie that way.
Did he?
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t want us to give you a ride?” Sophia asked as the four women stepped out of the bar onto the quiet street. For obvious reasons, she was the designated driver and was in charge of seeing Darcy and Kara safely home.
“I only live five minutes away.” She’d lived her entire life in a small apartment above the bakery. As a teenager, she’d longed for more space and room of her own, but after her mother passed away, the two-bedroom unit had been more than large enough, at times seeming far too empty. “The night air will help clear my head.”
Debbie knew her limit and had stopped after her second margarita. The first had loosened her tongue more than she wanted to admit. She could only hope the drinks the other women had enjoyed would help them forget some of the foolish things she’d said.
“All right. But if you meet up with any dark handsome strangers on the way home, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
No such luck with her perfectly sober best friend. “Can you please forget I said anything?”
Sophia grinned impishly, reminding Debbie of when they’d been kids, always looking for some kind of trouble. “Not a chance.”
With a put-upon sigh, Debbie looked over at the bride-to-be. “Have a good night, Darcy, and just think, the next time we’re all together, you’ll be a few hours away from becoming Mrs. Nick Pirelli.”
The redhead’s beaming smile could have lit the sky. “I can’t wait!”
Leaving her friends with a wave goodbye, Debbie walked the quiet street toward the bakery. The night was cold with a definite hint of fall in the air, along with woodsmoke drifting from a nearby chimney. Halloween decorations lurked in the shadows behind the darkened windows, reminding Debbie the holiday was less than a month away.
She wasn’t sure when she first noticed the sound of footsteps behind her. With the bar only a few doors back, it wasn’t that unusual to think someone else had decided to walk off a beer or two. But the late hour and emptiness of the stores around her was enough to quicken her pace. Most nights she would have circled around to the alleyway behind the bakery and the outside staircase that led directly to her apartment. But tonight, the security lights inside the shop beckoned with the promise of safety.
Reaching inside her oversize bag, she fumbled for her keys. Why couldn’t she be one of those women who carried a purse the size of a cell phone case? Instead she’d fallen in love with a tapestry-style tote and stuffed it to the zipper with every item she might ever need. Her finger brushed a metal ring, but her relief was short-lived as she identified the extra set of measuring spoons she’d somehow misplaced. Swearing beneath her breath, she looked inside her bag and spotted the pink enamel cupcake-shaped key ring Sophia had given for her last birthday.
Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a sound behind her—
“Debbie! Wait up!”
Stumbling, she glanced back over her shoulder toward the familiar voice. “Drew? What do you think you’re doing!” she demanded as he jogged toward her. Her heart still pounding, she reached out and socked him on the arm. The muscled bicep felt rock solid against her knuckles, and he didn’t even flinch. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
The dim lighting from the shop windows illuminated his frown. “I called your name like three times.”
He had? “Oh, sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“And that’s the problem. You should be paying attention. Walking home by yourself—”
Swallowing a sigh, she tuned out the rest of what he was saying. Clearly with Sophia now married with a husband to take care of her, Drew had decided to move his big-brother act down the road and to her door.
Debbie had long thought Sophia’s middle brother was the most handsome of the three very good-looking men. She’d even had a crush on him once upon a time when she’d been a starry-eyed kid experiencing her first rush of romance. Or hormones, she thought ruefully, still slightly embarrassed by the tongue-tied, blushing preteen she’d once been. But that was a long time ago, and she was over him.
Still, that didn’t stop a few of those long-buried feelings from shaking off a bit of dust as she gazed up at him in the moonlight. Even casually dressed like just about every local guy, in a gray henley shirt tucked into faded jeans and a denim jacket to ward off the chill stretched across his broad shoulders, something about Drew made him stand out from the crowd. It was more than looks—although he was...so...good-looking. Totally unfair, in fact, for a man to be that gorgeous.
How many times had she imagined running her fingers through the waves in his dark hair? Pictured how his brown eyes would darken with passion in the seconds before he kissed her? Wondered what it would be like to feel his body pressed against hers?
How many hours had she wasted, her mind taunted her, since Drew would never think of her in the same way?
Slapping those old memories aside, Debbie cut off the rest of his lecture, insisting, “I can take care of myself, Drew. I’m a big girl now.”
Was it her imagination or had his gaze dropped slightly at her words, giving her a subtle once-over? She didn’t have many opportunities to dress up, and the bachelorette party had given her an excuse to wear her new cream slacks and the wide-necked gold sweater that hugged her curves and, yes, she’d admit it, showed off a fair amount of cleavage. She’d pulled on her leather jacket before leaving the bar, but the blazer style only had a single button, which emphasized rather than hid her figure.
Not that Drew would notice. Her heart skipped a beat. Would he?
“All the more reason to be careful,” he warned, his voice gruffer than a moment before. Enough to make her wonder. “A woman like you—”
“A woman like me?”
“A beautiful woman like you needs to be careful. There are guys out there who would take advantage.”
Debbie’s mind was too caught up on his first words—Drew thought she was beautiful?—to pay attention to whatever else it was he was so intent on telling her. And as he walked her the rest of the way home, a solid masculine presence at her side, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if Drew was one of those guys. The kind to take advantage at the end of a date by pushing for a good-night kiss and maybe even more.
Her skin heated, and she could only bless the moonlight for hiding her reaction to the thought. Because of course this wasn’t a date, and as they reached the bakery door, she reminded him, “This is Clearville, Drew. I know pretty much all the guys ‘out there.’”
His jaw clenched as if holding back whatever else he wanted to say. And despite her claim of knowing all there was to know about Clearville guys, his dark eyes were glittering in a way that was completely...unfamiliar.
“Maybe,” he finally conceded as he reached out for her keys, “but you never know what might happen...even in a small town like this.”
His hand closed over hers, and Debbie’s breath caught in her chest. The stroke of his thumb against her skin combined with the deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Surely not what he intended. He was warning her, wasn’t he? Trying to scare her...not trying to seduce her.
Heart pounding, her mouth was suddenly too dry to swallow and her tongue snuck out to dampen her lips. Drew tracked the movement, the small amount of moisture evaporating as he leaned closer...
Turning the key in the lock, he pushed the door open and stepped back. “Good night, Debbie. Sweet dreams.”
His parting words stayed with her long after she’d climbed the stairs to the safety of her apartment and locked the door behind her. Sweet dreams? With her hand still tingling from his touch, Debbie knew Drew had just about guaranteed he would play a starring role in hers!
Chapter Two (#ulink_42616c28-0239-525a-b2c1-8d839c5b1fd3)
“Don’t they make such a lovely couple?”
Debbie looked away from the just-married couple in question to meet Vanessa Pirelli’s smiling expression. Nick and Darcy were supposed to be posing for pictures beside the three-tiered wedding cake, but from what Debbie could see, the two of them appeared completely oblivious as they gazed into each other’s eyes. The love between them radiated as brightly as the antique chandelier glowing overhead.
The bride and groom had decided on a small wedding, and friends and family had gathered at Hillcrest House for their reception. The sprawling Victorian with its peaked turrets and dormer windows sat elegantly atop a bluff overlooking the ocean. The upper two floors had been converted into hotel rooms while the first-floor dining room was now a high-class, intimate restaurant. The ballroom had mostly remained untouched, still in use after 125 years. With its intricate mahogany wainscot, hand-carved moldings and coffered ceilings, the location added to the romance of Nick and Darcy’s wedding reception.
Debbie nodded at the older woman’s words. “They do,” she agreed. “It was a beautiful wedding.”
“Mmm-hmm. It’s always a pleasure to see young people in love. Nick and Darcy, Sophia and Jake, Sam and Kara...” The mother of the groom’s gaze turned speculative. “And you and Drew certainly make a good-looking couple.”
Debbie should have seen it coming. This was the second wedding where she and Drew had walked down the aisle together as part of a wedding party. The matchup made perfect sense, as they were both single. What didn’t make as much sense was the rush of heat to her face as she fought to squirm beneath his mother’s speculative gaze. Praying her cheeks weren’t as bright as the burgundy bridesmaid’s dress she wore, Debbie shook her head.
“Mrs. Pirelli—”
“Now, how many times have I asked you to call me Vanessa? You know you’re practically family.”
“You’re exactly right, Vanessa. All of your sons have always been like big brothers to me. There’s never been anything romantic between any of us. Including me and Drew.”
Not even the night of Darcy’s bachelorette party.
In the days since, Debbie convinced herself whatever she thought had happened between her and Drew within the faint glow of her shop windows...hadn’t. Drew had simply been looking out for her, same as always, his parting words a brotherly warning and not a sensual promise.
With that in mind, she’d gone out of her way to treat him the same as always. She’d met his gaze with a big smile and had taken his arm for their walk down the aisle with a friendly tug. She had not noticed the strength of the bicep linked with her own any more than she’d felt a shiver race across her shoulders when that muscled arm brushed against her. And she most certainly did not keep sneaking looks at him out of the corner of her eye to see if he was sneaking looks at her.
Because he wasn’t, and that was that.
Vanessa sighed. “You can’t blame a mother for trying to find the right girl for her son. After all, you’re a beautiful, strong, confident woman.”
Though the trim brunette with sparkling green eyes didn’t have any resemblance to Debbie’s own well-rounded, blond-haired, blue-eyed mother, the warmth and kindness of the words surrounded Debbie like one of her mother’s vanilla-scented hugs. “Thank you, Vanessa. That means a lot to me.”
“And, if I do say so myself, my son is not such a bad catch, either.”
Tipping her head back with a laugh, Debbie couldn’t help but agree, and not just because she was talking to Drew’s mother. “You’re absolutely right. Drew is a good man. One of the best, which makes him a wonderful friend.”
But not the man for her. Drew was as grounded and stable as the houses he built. Not at all the type to rush headlong into adventure and excitement. Worse, Debbie thought as pinpricks of heat stabbed at her, he had known her for her entire life. He’d probably be able to recall every fashion disaster, every bad hair day, every extra pound that haunted her past. She wanted a man who would look at her and see her now, as the strong, confident woman Vanessa described and not as the chubby, awkward girl she’d once been.
Debbie glanced over her shoulder at Drew, knowing right where he was standing even while pretending not to. Her breath caught as their gazes met and held. He wasn’t looking at her like he was remembering her fashion disaster/bad hair days. If she didn’t know better—
A flush started at her painted toes and made a slow, sensual climb. If she didn’t know better she might have thought he was looking at her the same way a dieting man always looked at her buns—her sugar-glazed cinnamon buns, that was—like he wanted to devour her and not stop until they were both satisfied. But that was crazy, wasn’t it?
After all, this was Drew she was thinking about. Even-keel, think-things-through Drew Pirelli. He wasn’t the kind of man to devour desserts. More the type to savor a meal, to take things slow and—
How exactly is this helping? she demanded of herself even as she tore her gaze away.
“Well, it’s not unheard of for friendship to turn to something more,” Vanessa remarked. “If you keep an open heart, you never know what might happen.”
The echo of the words Drew had spoken the other night spurred Debbie into action. This was not happening. After asking Vanessa to excuse her, she grabbed a glass of champagne on her way across the floral-patterned carpet. If she decided to have some kind of reckless affair—and she had to admit, that was way more talk than action on her part so far—she had the right kind of man in mind. That was not Drew Pirelli.
Drew was the kind of man a woman committed to wholeheartedly and for her entire life. Debbie wasn’t ready for that. Just the thought sent a suffocating panic pressing down on her chest. She was ready for fun. So no matter how great of a guy Drew was, and he was the greatest, he was her friend. And the sooner they got back on friendly terms, the...safer she would feel.
And how’s that kind of thinking fit a daring woman out for reckless affair?
Ignoring the mocking voice in her head, Debbie smiled as she reached Drew’s side. It was what she called her Bonnie’s Best smile, the one she’d put on for her mother all those years ago to show Bonnie she could focus entirely on her own health because her daughter was doing just fine. The same smile she’d used to greet neighbors and friends when they asked about her mother’s health and later when they inquired about Debbie in the weeks and months after Bonnie’s death.
Doing just fine! Thanks so much for asking.
The smile had gotten her through much tougher times than a sudden and inappropriate infatuation with Drew Pirelli.
Pointing her champagne flute at him, Debbie spoke before Drew had the chance. “I have a bone to pick with you!” Her smile felt a little less forced as she went on the offensive. The teasing, confrontational tone was just right for their relationship. It was as comfortable and familiar as Drew himself, and only their surroundings at the posh hotel ballroom kept her from giving a lighthearted pop on the shoulder. “You cost me fifty bucks.”
His dark brows rose, and he met her mock anger with a smile. But was there something different there? Something other than his usual, almost patronizing expression? He waited, biding his time, until she reached his side. His breath teased the bare skin of her neck as he leaned close and asked, “How did I do that?”
Debbie fought off a shiver threatening to shake her down to her shoes. “The bet, remember? I thought for sure you would be the next Pirelli to fall and yet Sam’s already engaged. How the heck did that happen?”
He frowned as if seriously weighing her words. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
His espresso eyes challenged her, and Debbie’s confidence started to tremble right along with her suddenly weak knees. Swallowing, she countered, “More like I don’t know Sam. After all, he’s the one who got engaged when I never thought he would.”
“And I’m the one who’s still single. Maybe I’m not as settled as you seem to think.”
If anyone was unsettled, Debbie decided, it was definitely her. She should walk away now, while she still could, while she still had any hope of getting back on equal footing with Drew again. But that was ridiculous because she did know him. She knew him well enough to realize he was messing with her, giving her a hard time, same as always. She was the one who was overreacting thanks to her foolish decision to give voice to her fantasies. She was the one who’d let the crazy thoughts out, and it was going to be up to her to put them back where they belonged.
“Come on, Drew. Tell me you don’t see yourself married with a couple of kids.” A look of admission flashed in his eyes, and Debbie pressed her point. Nodding in Nick and Darcy’s direction, she said, “Tell me you don’t want that.”
He glanced over at the happy couple, who were busy staring into each other’s eyes. “Sure, I do,” he agreed readily enough for Debbie to think she’d been right all along about him playing her. “Someday. But there’s something else I want right now.”
She didn’t realize what Drew meant until he took the slim flute from her, set it aside on a nearby table and pulled her onto the dance floor. Her hand rose automatically to rest on his shoulder and her feet quickly found the rhythm of the slow, romantic ballad. It was hardly the first time she and Drew had danced together, and as he pulled her closer, she caught scent of his cologne. The woody fragrance with its hint of cedar was the same brand he’d worn for years—a yearly Christmas gift from his sister. Sophia knew her brother wouldn’t bother to buy something he’d consider unnecessary. Debbie knew it, too. She knew Drew. He was as comforting and familiar as the smell of his cologne, except—
The trip in her pulse as he spun her beneath the crystal chandelier wasn’t the slow, steady pace of comfort, and she found no familiarity in the tingle of goose bumps chasing across her chest when her breasts brushed the starched front of Drew’s tuxedo shirt. His eyes darkened—whether as a result of the intimate contact or in reaction to her own, Debbie didn’t know, but there was no denying the heat in his gaze.
The rush of unexpected and unwanted desire took Debbie back to her teenage years and her helpless, overwhelming crush on Drew. To the unrequited longing mixed with the heartbreaking knowledge that he would never see her as anything more than his kid sister’s friend. A part of her, that small part that had never lost hope even in the most hopeless of situations, longed to believe everything she was seeing in Drew’s expression, longed to believe that maybe, just maybe, he did view her as more than the girl next door.
A decade-old memory drifted through her thoughts. The door to the bakery had been open, letting in the warm summer air and allowing the scents of fresh-baked breads and muffins to drift out onto the sidewalk, to lure tourists and locals inside. Standing behind the counter, she’d caught sight of Drew through the front window. He’d been away at college, but her pulse had taken that same familiar leap as if he’d never been gone a day. He’d smiled at her as he’d stepped inside and the warmth in his gaze had threatened to reach inside and pull her heart straight from her chest.
She’d cut her hair since she’d seen him last, straightening the life out of the curls she hated and taming the locks into a more sophisticated style. She’d been on yet another diet and had dropped to a smaller size. Was this the day when Drew would finally see her for who she really was? Anticipation hammered through her veins until she’d caught sight of the tall, leggy brunette on Drew’s arm.
Debbie had kept her smile firmly in place as he introduced her to the girlfriend he’d met at school. She asked all the appropriate questions, showed just the right amount of friendly interest until the moment the couple said goodbye. As the two of them walked out of the shop, Debbie had heard the other girl teasingly ask if she was one of Drew’s ex-girlfriends.
Nah, that’s just Debbie.
She could still feel the ache of a broken heart as her dreams of Drew being her boyfriend slipped from her fingers and into the gorgeous brunette’s hands. But she’d wised up after that, too, forcing herself to get over her pointless crush. She didn’t want to be “just Debbie,” and she refused to follow the vain hope that Drew might see her any other way.
Lifting her chin, she met his gaze head on. “If this is wedding fever, you should know I’m immune.”
“Wedding fever?”
“You know,” she answered. “Sympathy pains brought on by too much contact with the crazy-in-love bride and groom.”
“I wouldn’t call anything I’m feeling right now pain.”
Debbie stumbled slightly at his words only to have Drew pull her even tighter against his chest. How many times had she dreamed of a moment like this? A moment when Drew would hold her close and finally, finally claim her mouth with his own? If he kissed her now—
Oh, if he did, Debbie had no doubt she’d fall for him all over again, wrapping herself in foolish hopes and dreams that had no place in the real world. Gazing up into his eyes beneath the chandelier’s glittering lights, the promise of the longed for kiss made the risk almost, almost seem worth it....
Fortunately, the song came to an end, giving her the excuse to step back and take a sanity-saving breath. “That’s the fever talking. You’re delirious, but don’t worry, it won’t last.”
“Debbie—”
“I need to check if Darcy needs anything. Bridesmaid’s duty and all.”
Quickly slipping away, Debbie ducked between the guests gathered along the edges of the dance floor, but she didn’t stop to look for the bride amid the crowd. She escaped through the first doorway she found. The sound of music and laughter faded as she stepped out onto a secluded balcony overlooking the historic bed-and-breakfast’s manicured grounds. The cool, ocean-scented night air touched her warm cheeks, and as Debbie gazed up at the night sky, she couldn’t help thinking all the stars she’d wished upon for all those years were laughing down at her now.
As her mother had often warned her... “Be careful what you wish for,” she whispered.
* * *
Drew quickly lost sight of Debbie as she darted out the French doors at the back of the ballroom. Forcing himself to let her go, he headed over to the bar and ordered a beer. He clenched the cold bottle in his hand and took a long swallow of the malty brew. She had every reason to run away from him, and he had no right to go after her until he figured out what the hell was going on.
Was Debbie right? Was he suffering from some kind of wedding fever? The explanation made as much sense as anything he could come up with to justify why he was suddenly tempted to throw caution aside when he was with her. Which was crazy, since reason had always trumped emotion in every hand he’d ever played. His head always ruled his heart. How many times had his last girlfriend, Angie, told him to stop thinking and start feeling whenever the inevitable “where is this relationship going?” talk came up?
He’d tried telling her how he felt—he found her attractive, he enjoyed spending time with her, their common interests made a good foundation for a relationship—but none of those explanations satisfied her. She’d wanted something more...just like Debbie did.
He’d overheard the words from her himself. Debbie wanted adventure, excitement, mystery—not a guy she’d known her whole life.
You’re as grounded as a man can be and still manage to move both feet.
The memory of the accusation she’d made at his sister’s wedding grated on his nerves, and he didn’t even know why. The truth was, he prided himself on making solid decisions, on not rushing into situations without being able to predict the outcome. If he crossed the line from friendship to something more with Debbie, he had no idea where that might lead.
Yet knowing all that hadn’t stopped him from asking her to dance, or from wanting more than a dance....
She was right about one thing. If their names ended up linked by the local grapevine, assumptions would immediately be made.
Drew snorted. With the rate his siblings were getting hitched, his parents would be sending out wedding invitations within a week.
He hadn’t missed the little conversation between his mother and Debbie earlier. He could only hope his mother had been a little more subtle than she’d been after the rehearsal dinner a few nights before. A dinner he’d attended alone. He’d made excuses about work and the custom house he was building keeping him too busy for a relationship, but his mother had quickly called him out on it.
“Do you think I haven’t noticed how many family dinners you’ve missed recently?” she’d demanded. And then softer, she questioned, “And do you think I don’t know the real reason why?”
Okay, so maybe he had been feeling like the odd man out, but he wasn’t about to admit that to his mother. “I’ve been busy. That’s the only reason.”
His mother sighed, giving him the look that could still make him feel like he was six years old. “I have to say, I never thought you would be the child I would have to worry about.”
Drew winced in memory.
His mother would love nothing more than to see him settle down.
All the more reason not to follow Debbie out onto the secluded balcony. He almost had himself convinced when he spotted her shawl draped across the back of the chair she’d abandoned. Leaving the half-finished bottle of beer at the bar, he crossed the room to the table that had been reserved for the wedding party. And just as he’d been unable to stop himself from pulling her onto the dance floor, he reached for the softly woven shawl. The scent of her perfume, a mix of spicy and sweet that perfectly captured Debbie’s personality, drifted over him. Pulling him in when he knew he should be walking away.
As he moved toward the balcony doors, he was stopped several times along the way by friends and neighbors. He took their ribbing about being the only unattached Pirelli with good humor even if the phrase “last man standing” was already getting old. He knew it would get worse after Sam’s wedding. Still, he pushed the thought aside. He was a man on a mission, out to find a certain bridesmaid.
She turned as he opened the door, her arms crossed tightly to ward off the night air. For Drew, the chill was a relief after the ballroom’s crowded interior. But it wasn’t exactly a cold shower, and not nearly cold enough to keep his body from heating when he noticed the swell of flesh above her dress’s neckline.
All brides were supposed to be beautiful, and Darcy was undeniably gorgeous. But it was Debbie who had knocked the breath from Drew’s lungs when he’d caught sight of her walking down the aisle.
He should have been better prepared, seeing her now, but maybe he hadn’t recovered from that first blow. Her blond hair was caught to one side, her golden curls tumbling over her shoulder. The bridesmaids’ gowns reflected Darcy’s taste, and Debbie looked amazing in the halter-style burgundy dress. Tiny beads highlighted the bodice, and the rich fabric fell to the tops of her strappy sandals with a slit in the side guaranteed to blow his mind with revealing flashes of her shapely calf and thigh.
Her blue eyes gazed at him warily. “Drew...”
He heard the protest in her voice and held up the shawl. “I thought you might be cold out here.”
“Oh.”
Was it his imagination or did she sound disappointed that he’d followed her for such an innocent reason? “Well, thank you,” she said as she reached for the pink material, “but I can take care of myself.”
Drew didn’t doubt it. Debbie had been on her own since her mother died. Before that, really, with the care Bonnie Mattson had needed during her illness. He’d long admired Debbie’s independence and the way she’d scoffed at the idea of needing a man. But for the first time, that toughness seemed to soften something inside his chest. He held on to the shawl, keeping their hands tangled together in the wispy fabric. “I know you can. But once in a while, it’s nice to have someone take care of you.”
Sliding the shawl from her hands, he draped the material over her shoulders, keeping hold of both ends. “Maybe,” she conceded, though her slightly stiff posture wasn’t giving an inch. “But I don’t need—”
“This isn’t about need,” he interrupted. “It’s about want.”
Debbie swallowed. “Want?”
“It’s like...dessert. Not something you need, but certainly something you crave.”
“And let me guess. You’re craving something sweet.” The sardonic twist on the word told Drew what Debbie thought of that description—one he’d been guilty of using in the past. She’d nailed it when she complained to Darcy and her fellow bridesmaids about the local guys treating her like a little sister or a platonic buddy.
Standing so close to her now, feeling the heat from her body and breathing in the vanilla-and-spice scent of her skin, he wondered how the male population—himself included—could have been so deaf, blind and stupid. He had no doubt Debbie would taste sweet and yet— Suddenly he thought of the sheer temptation of her chocolate-raspberry cake. “I was thinking more along the lines of something rich, decadent, a little sinful even.”
Debbie’s eyes widened, huge and sparkling in the faint light streaming through the French doors. He’d gone too far, he thought. Pushed too hard for something he shouldn’t even let himself want. The smart thing, the logical thing to do was to walk away now while they still could. “Debbie—”
“Seriously, Drew, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
“Uh—” Before he had a chance to say anything else, she reached up, clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled his head toward hers. At the first touch of her lips, Drew was lost. Walk away? How could he when a single kiss had knocked him off his feet?
He’d been right about the sweetness, but had seriously underestimated just how rich, just how decadent she would taste, with just a hint of champagne and the piña colada wedding cake she’d made flavoring the kiss. The combination was addictive, but it was a taste uniquely her own. His tongue hungrily traced her full upper lip from corner to corner, spending an extra second at the enticing peak in the center. Diving deeper when she made a soft, indistinct sound that still managed to convey the intoxicating blend of demand and desire.
Drew might have smiled at the demand—Debbie had never been shy when it came to speaking her mind—but the desire overrode all else. He pulled her closer, her softness and curves melding against his body in a perfect fit. Blood pounded through his veins, and his hands tightened on her hips. The thin, slippery material of her dress hardly seemed like much of a barrier. With a few deft moves to push it out of the way—
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he froze at the sound of voices drifting over from the parking lot on the other side of the evergreen hedge. The night chill seeped in as Debbie broke the kiss and slipped from his arms.
“You sure about this? Your brother is going to kill you for messing with his ride.”
“I know. Great, isn’t it?”
“You know what they say about payback, and your wedding is less than two months away.”
Drew immediately recognized Sam’s voice along with his friend Billy Cummings’s. The three of them were supposed to decorate Nick’s truck. Even though the newlyweds were spending their first night together at the bed-and-breakfast, their vehicle would proudly announce their just-married status for the trip home. Sam had gathered the appropriate mix of tin cans and shaving cream along with some leashes and dog toys as an homage to Nick’s profession.
It wouldn’t be long before—
“So where is Drew anyway? Are we doing this without him?”
“No way! He has to be part of this so I can tell Nick it was all his idea.” The faint crunch of gravel followed Sam’s words. “You go get the stuff, and I’ll track him down.”
Nick might have been the veterinarian, but Sam could be like a dog with a bone. He wasn’t going to give up until he found Drew.
His looked over at Debbie, who’d already taken a few steps back. Her arms were once again crossed over her chest, but Drew didn’t think this time was because of the cold. “Debbie, I’m sorry. I— That was—”
The awkwardness of the moment grew in rhythm with the silence as he tried to put the kiss and the past few minutes into words. But she clearly had her own ideas about what had taken place. “Wedding fever,” she stated flatly. “But don’t worry. You’ll forget all about it by morning.”
Then she turned and went back into the reception, leaving him alone on the balcony.
Chapter Three (#ulink_7b22429c-0390-51e3-b1cc-db6fd9109e69)
Debbie took one look at the bold black letters on the whiteboard in front of The High Tide restaurant and immediately wanted to turn around and make the forty-minute drive back home from Redfield.
Singles’ Night—Meet and Greet!
Nerves somersaulted through her stomach, whirling fast enough to make her feel sick. This was what she got for opening her big mouth in front of her friends. Ever since making that silly claim about wanting someone to sweep her off her feet, Sophia and Kara had been bombarding her—in person and via phone calls and emails—with ways to meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome.
She’d escaped a three-way tag team only because Darcy was in Paris on her honeymoon with Nick. Though if her friend did come across any possibilities, Debbie wouldn’t be surprised to receive a message touting Monsieur Tall, Dark and Handsome.
Sophia had been the one to send her the info on the singles’ night. Debbie wondered what her friend would think of the sign—one she was sure normally listed the catch of the day. As if she could just order up the perfect guy to go.
Not that she was looking for the perfect guy. But she’d told Sophia she’d give it a try. She had nothing to lose, right?
Memories of the moonlit balcony swarmed her senses—the brush of Drew’s lips, the subtle hint of champagne, the murmur of her name spoken against her skin. Okay, maybe she’d caught him off guard, kissing him the way she had, but he’d done a heck of a job kissing her back. It had been enough to make Debbie think that maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d always thought. Then he’d deepened the kiss, and she’d stopped thinking at all....
Debbie slammed that mental door shut. As far as she was concerned, those were all reasons to go to the singles’ night. Drew had gotten caught up in the moment only to immediately regret it. She knew it by the what-the-hell-am-I-doing-kissing-her look in his dark gaze and the apology that had followed. And in his total absence over the past week. Not that they normally saw each other every day, but it was a small town. You couldn’t avoid running into someone unless you were avoiding running into someone.
Not that she expected him to seek her out, but that he hadn’t... Well, it only showed that she was right. Temporary insanity brought on by wedding fever and nothing more.
So, fine. She wasn’t interested in Drew anyway. She wanted adventure, excitement. She wanted to meet someone new, and she was going to check out the daily specials on offer tonight at The High Tide.
Breathing in a deep, hopeful breath, Debbie climbed from the car and headed toward the restaurant. Redfield also catered to the tourist crowd, and the restaurant had a quaint bait-and-tackle-shop vibe—weathered wood exterior, netting and fishing rods hanging below the sign.
The scent of fried seafood was enough to make her stomach grumble even as she mentally calculated the number of calories. And while she wasn’t positive her willpower would persevere, it was a sure bet that her fashion sense would win hands down.
The waistband on her floral skirt didn’t have nearly enough give for her to even think about fish and chips. She’d be lucky to squeeze in a salad, but the fitted skirt was the perfect match for her favorite pale pink cashmere sweater. The purchase had been a splurge even on sale, but the savvy saleswoman had told her she looked like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield in the figure-hugging, sinfully soft top, and Debbie had been sold.
You can do this. Sophia’s voice echoed in her mind. Just think, tonight you might meet your own Prince Charming!
Debbie hadn’t tried to explain, again, that she wasn’t interested in some love of a lifetime. A relationship would only be another commitment when most days she already felt stretched too thin. Another responsibility when she already longed for more freedom. Another potential for loss when fate had already stolen so much....
But she couldn’t expect Sophia, still basking in the glow of her own happily ever after, to understand that. So she’d agreed that yes, tonight might be the night.
As she stepped inside the restaurant, Debbie wondered if she hadn’t underestimated the possibilities. She’d feared everyone who would go to such lengths to meet someone—herself included—would reek of desperation. But the good-looking guy standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the reserved section of the bar met her gaze with a friendly and confident smile. He shifted the clipboard he was casually holding and held out his right hand.
“Welcome to The High Tide. Are you here for the meet and greet?” His green eyes sparkled beneath shaggy blond hair, and deep dimples bracketed his smile.
Definitely cute, and while the touch of his hand against hers didn’t set off any fireworks, his grip was strong and warm. Maybe tonight could be the beginning of something after all.
“I am,” she agreed, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.
After taking her name and email to keep her up to date with future events, he said, “Here’s a badge. We’d like you to write your name and an interesting or fun fact about yourself on it.”
Debbie reached out but her gaze locked on his hand. His left hand and the shiny gold band on the fourth finger. “You’re married?” she blurted out, the words escaping before she had time to call them back.
He glanced down at his wedding ring and flushed slightly. “Oh, yeah. I’m, um, not part of the singles’ group,” he explained. “I manage the restaurant and like to be here to make sure everything runs smoothly when we have events like this. Sorry if I—”
She waved his words aside. “No need to apologize.” After all, it wasn’t like he’d kissed her or anything. Withholding a sigh, she asked, “I don’t suppose you and your wife met at one of these events, did you?”
His eyes lit in memory. “No, we met while backpacking along the California coastline. We were supposed to travel all the way up to Canada and at the end of the trip go our separate ways. But we realized we’d fallen in love and decided to stay together. Just goes to show that you can find love anywhere along the way. Good luck tonight.”
Backpacking across the country. Now, that was a fun and interesting fact, Debbie thought as she filled out her name badge. She got the first part done okay, but then came to a complete halt. The whole point of going to an event like this was to break out of a rut. She’d lived in the same town, in the same apartment, worked the same job and had known the same people her whole life. If her world was filled with fun and interesting facts, she doubted she’d be at a singles’ event. No, she’d be backpacking along the coast or jetting off to Paris....
Sighing, she glanced over to the other side of the bar. She’d be sitting across the table from a good-looking guy who looked a lot like— Who looked exactly like— Oh, good grief, it was Drew Pirelli!
Sitting in a secluded booth, Drew and a beautiful brunette were engaged in an intense conversation, their heads bent so close together the table between them almost disappeared. As she watched, he reached over and stroked the woman’s arm, and a layer of goose bumps rose along her own skin....
Abruptly turning away, Debbie nearly crumpled the name tag in her hand. She had to leave now before he saw her and— And what exactly? Who cared if he saw her out tonight?
She wasn’t going to sit at home, waiting for Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. She was taking charge and going after what she wanted. She wanted to go out, to escape the pressure of duty and responsibility for once in her life. She wanted some fun and interesting facts to write down on her stupid name badge!
Picking up the pen, she printed a few words beneath her name, capping them off with an exclamation point before slapping the sticky tag to the front of her sweater. Now, time to actually meet a single guy at this singles’ event.
Within minutes, she’d done just that. Gary Tronston was in his early thirties by her guess. He had blond hair and wore wire-framed glasses. He was a dentist, and while Debbie wasn’t sure how interesting that fact was, he had added on his name tag that he was a dentist with a sweet tooth, which at least showed an attempt at a sense of humor.
But talking to him, Debbie couldn’t help feeling he’d somehow slipped her a shot of Novocain.
“I like helping people. Seeing them smile,” he added with a smile of his own. “It’s not saving the world, but I like to think I’ve made a difference.”
“That’s great, Gary. Really.”
Debbie might not have always been the best judge of men, but he seemed like a nice guy. If only she felt even the slightest spark...
She didn’t, though, and it was all Drew’s fault. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep from glancing over poor Gary’s shoulder at Drew on the other side of the bar.
His dark hair gleamed even in the bar’s muted lighting, and the red T-shirt he wore, the long sleeves pushed back to reveal his tanned, muscular arms, was the perfect contrast. His eyebrows were pulled together in a frown, and though she was too far away, she knew just how rich and warm his eyes were. After a moment, his features relaxed, the lines around his eyes crinkling slightly as he flashed his perfect white teeth in a smile at his date. Debbie tore her gaze away, but it was too late. He looked so vibrant, so virile, that Gary with his blond hair and somewhat pasty skin seemed ready to simply fade away.
Not that Gary was to blame. When she and Drew had kissed, the whole world had faded away. How was the poor guy supposed to compete with that?
“Would you like a drink?” he asked before waving their waitress over and requesting a wine list as if they were at a five-star establishment instead of a casual, family-friendly restaurant. She tried to ignore that it made him seem more than a little pretentious. But once she spotted that chink in his armor, she couldn’t help noticing a few more less than attractive details. Like when he mentioned for the third time that he drove a Mercedes. And that he’d graduated with honors. And that he was working with a group of investors to build an exclusive resort in the area.
Debbie supposed it would have been hard to fit all that on a name tag.
Suppressing a sigh, she smiled as the waitress returned with their drinks and took a sip of the white wine Gary had ordered for both of them. She fought to keep her attention on the man in front of her instead of on the one across the bar. But that focus only brought more details to light. Like...wasn’t Gary’s blond hair combed a little too neatly? His clothes too perfectly pressed? And she’d bet the bakery that the shine on his nails came from a manicure.
Good hygiene was one thing, but that was just...weird, she decided, reaching for her wineglass again. Drew would never—
Debbie tried to stop the hopeless comparison, but suddenly the floodgates were open. There was nothing overstated about Drew, nothing that said he was trying too hard or that he was too hung up on his own good looks. Just a quiet confidence and yes, he was gorgeous enough for Debbie to be hung up on his looks. Of course, he was more than a pretty face and a drool-worthy bod.
He was...Drew.
The boy who’d stood up for her when some of the other kids in school had teased her about her weight and the outrageous desserts her mother always packed in her lunch. Of course, he’d been thirteen at the time and helped her in typical boy fashion—by stealing huge bites out of her cupcake or éclair or torte when Debbie wasn’t watching and then flashing her a cocky grin. In typical girl fashion, Debbie had protested, calling him names and probably sticking her tongue out a time or two, even as warmth bloomed inside her.
At nine years old, she’d known he was saving her from pigging out in front of the rest of the class or from hurting Bonnie’s feelings by refusing to take those desserts to school or, heaven forbid, throwing out the food her talented mother made with such love.
And then there was the day of her mother’s funeral. Just about everyone in town had stopped by to tell her how much her mother would be missed and how they would be there for Debbie if she needed anything.
She’d smiled through it all, reminiscing about her mother, talking about how much she loved to bake and to share her gift of sweets with the town. Only later did Debbie break down in the back of the bakery, crying over a batch of éclairs that she had never, ever been able to make as well as Bonnie, as it hit her that she would never taste her mother’s baking again. It was then, after everyone else was gone and she was alone, that Drew knocked on the bakery’s back door. He hadn’t said much, simply holding her as she cried and then helped her to clean up the mess she’d made of the kitchen.
He’d told her everything would be okay, and though countless others had offered that same platitude, wrapped in Drew’s arms, breathing in the familiar scent of his aftershave and listening to the quiet confidence in his deep voice, she’d believed him. And she’d held on to that belief deep in her heart, pulling it out when life got rough and she’d had her doubts about running the business on her own or during the holidays when at times she felt so alone. And somehow she knew everything would be all right. Because Drew had told her so, and he would never go back on his word.
This time, she couldn’t keep her glance from straying over toward his booth. Her heart slammed against her rib cage when his dark-eyed gaze snared hers. His date had disappeared, and he was looking back at her without a hint of surprise. A wash of heat crept up her face. How long had he been watching her while she’d been trying so hard not to watch him? And was he really going to sit there the rest of the night, studying her as she pretended to have a good time? Because, yes, by now she was past the point of convincing herself she actually was having a good time.
She reached for her glass, surprised to find it almost empty, but thankfully the waitress quickly stopped by with reinforcements. She started when Gary reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m so glad you came to this event. It’s hard to meet the right person, isn’t it?”
The right person? Oh, good Lord, she really hoped he wasn’t talking about her! “Um, yeah. Look, Gary—”
“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were the one.”
Debbie swallowed. “Gary, that’s so...sweet of you to say. But the thing is...” Oh, jeez. She hated doing this. She’d been on the other side of the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech too many times not to feel badly about delivering it. “I’m not really looking for anything serious. I just want to meet some new people, to go out and have a good time.”
His sincere expression quickly morphed into one that was far more interested. “Well, in that case, why don’t we get out of here? I’ve booked a room in a hotel just down the street where we can really have some fun.”
“Whoa, there, Gar! I think you still have the wrong idea about me. But, you know, good luck with all that!”
Grabbing her glass, Debbie downed half the wine in a single gulp as she made her escape.
Speaking of which... Yep, Drew was still in the corner booth. Still watching...which meant as much as tonight was starting to look like a bust, she couldn’t go home yet. She didn’t want to give Drew the satisfaction of thinking that he’d run her off or worse, that he was right and that she should be spending her nights at home alone like a good girl.
She was going to have fun tonight, she thought grimly, even if it killed her.
* * *
She was killing him.
Drew’s hand tightened around the soda he’d been downing all night. He hadn’t come to the bar to drink, though that was the invitation he’d issued to Cassidy Carter. It had been strictly business, and he didn’t drink on the job. Of course, Cass had left over an hour ago, and he still hadn’t switched to anything harder than pure sugar and caffeine. He was a little afraid of what he might do if even so much as a beer went to his head. Hell, the rate the night was going, he should probably switch to diet and caffeine-free.
Every time Debbie laughed, every time she touched another guy—even if it was just to shake hands—every time she leaned closer to hear what one of them said, every damn time the guy’s gaze dropped to the rounded curves on display beneath a sweater that looked like it was made out of cotton candy, Drew had to fight to keep his butt in the booth.
He’d always considered himself a patient man, but he was quickly running out. Still, he kept waiting. Waiting for Debbie to realize none of these losers were good enough for her. He could see it at first glance. What was taking her so damn long?
He’d thought overhearing Debbie at Darcy’s bachelorette party was bad. But that had only been words, and he’d done his best to convince himself it was just talk. That she wasn’t serious about wanting some stranger to sweep her off her feet. Clearly, he was wrong. Not only had Debbie meant every word, she was backing them up with actions.
And it was killing him.
Drew didn’t want to look too closely at the reasons why. Debbie was an old family friend, and he was worried about her. That was reason enough, right? He didn’t want to think that he was jealous or that he wanted to be one of the men standing close enough to her to know if that sweater could possibly feel as soft as it looked. He certainly didn’t want to think about any of those men kissing her the way he had on the balcony last weekend because he shouldn’t have been the one kissing her, either. Tonight only drove that home more than ever. How could he be the one to protect her if he had to worry about protecting her from himself?
But when the waitress brought Debbie yet another glass of wine and when the introduction handshakes turned into nice-to-meet-you hugs, he couldn’t stand by any longer.
He was saving her from herself. When she came to her senses and forgot all about this whole adventure and excitement streak she was on, she’d realize that, too. She’d probably even thank him for it.
A burst of mocking laughter that sounded just like his brothers’ echoed in his head.
Yeah, sure she would.
* * *
Debbie wasn’t sure how long she’d been talking to the brown-haired guy standing in front of her before she realized she no longer held his full attention. His gaze kept flicking toward a point over her shoulder. She might have feared she was too boring to hold his interest, but boredom didn’t put a look of fear in a guy’s eyes.
“I think I should, um...” He was already backing away before he blurted out, “Nice meeting you, Debbie.”
She didn’t have to turn around to around to know Drew was behind her. “What are you doing, Drew?” she asked as she drained the last of her wine and motioned to the waitress for another glass.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I am here for singles’ night.” She turned to face him, feeling herself wobble slightly in her new shoes. She should have gone with the boots instead of the heels, but the pumps had the cutest bow on the toe.... “And you should be with your date.”
A frown pulled his dark brows together. “I’m not on a date.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine the brunette you were with earlier.”
“That wasn’t a date. She’s a coworker on a custom house I’m building in the area.”
“You always hold hands with your coworkers? I bet your subcontractors love that.”
“We weren’t holding hands. Cassidy was upset and I was trying to reassure her. The client we’re working for is a real nightmare, and Cass is ready to quit. None of which explains what you’re doing here.”
“I told you. It’s singles’ night, and I’m single,” she said, crossing her arms and meeting his scowl with a smirk.
He mimicked her actions, minus the smirk, folding his muscular arms over his broad chest, as he replied, “Well, so am I.”
“You’re not signed up for this event,” she protested.
Glancing over at a nearby high-top table, he spotted the clipboard and a few leftover name tags. Within seconds, he’d scrawled his name across the sign-in sheet and slapped a tag to his broad chest. His name in bold, block letters with the word contractor written beneath. “It’s not supposed to be a business card, Drew,” she said as she reached out and poked him right in the name tag.
He caught her hand and held it for a moment as his gaze dropped to her chest. Or at least to the name badge on her sweater. “Obviously.”
Debbie blinked, for a second having forgotten what she’d written on her own tag. “Oh, yeah. That.”
Hungry for the taste of adventure....
It had sounded like something fun to write down at the time, so why did she suddenly feel embarrassed, like a teenager caught by her mother making out with a boy on the front porch? She didn’t know. She couldn’t even be sure how a moment like that would have felt. She’d never dated as a teenager. She’d never had the opportunity to do so many things.
And that was why she was willing to take a chance on this singles’ group. Okay, so tonight had been a bit of a disappointment. There were other events planned. This night was only the beginning. She smiled her thanks and handed the waitress some cash in exchange for another glass of wine.
Lifting her chin, she met Drew’s gaze head on. “You’re not my big brother, Drew. I don’t need you to rescue me.”
A flash of guilt flickered across his expression, and Debbie realized she’d nailed it. He really did think of her like a little sister, someone to look out for, someone to protect. She took a swallow of wine to wash away the ache in her throat. So much for thinking he might have been jealous. So much for the foolish hope that he’d approached her because he wanted to be the guy she was talking to instead of the half a dozen or so men whose names she’d already forgotten.
Catching her by the wrist, he took the wineglass from her hand and set it aside. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“You’ve got that right,” she muttered. She’d certainly had enough of him!
Pushing past him, she headed for the exit. The cool, quiet night air brushed her heated cheeks, a welcome relief from the noisy, crowded restaurant. Her heels crunched unevenly across the asphalt, but she didn’t get far before he caught up with her again.
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I didn’t have that much to drink.”
“You had four glasses of wine.”
“You were counting?” Debbie snorted, only to realize maybe that was a good thing since she seemed to have stopped keeping track after two. No wonder the asphalt was rocking beneath her feet, and the stars were shooting like a pretty kaleidoscope overhead....
“Let me take you home.”
Oh, why did Drew’s murmured words have to sound so much better than any of the invitations she’d heard from potential dates that evening? Not that he meant anything by it. Just like he hadn’t meant anything by the kiss they’d shared. “You can’t fool me.”
He was playing the role of the white knight—offering rides home and apologizing for kisses when he should have been kissing her again.
“What?”
“What, what?” She hadn’t said anything. Oh, crap, what had she said?
Frowning, Drew asked, “How is asking to give you a ride home trying to fool you?”
Relieved she hadn’t spilled anything too embarrassing, yet still annoyed, she snapped, “You didn’t offer to drive me home. You asked to take me home. As in, ‘Let’s go back to your place.’ You think I don’t know a come-on when I hear one, Drew Pirelli?”
Just like she knew very well when she hadn’t heard one, but she found herself entirely unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.
“That’s not— I didn’t—” A pained expression crossed his face, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Blowing out a breath, he started again, “Debbie, I—”
Feeling another apology coming on, she threw up a dismissing hand and started walking. Not that she would risk driving home, but she had a coat in her car and if she had to wait who knew how long for a cab, she’d rather not have to stand around shivering.
But she only made it a few steps before the ground slipped out from beneath her feet. And not because she’d fallen. Her startled gasp ended in a mousy squeak as Drew swept her up into his arms. The stars spun wildly overhead, and without thought she clung to his shoulders. Their gazes collided for a heat-filled second before his mouth crashed down on hers in a stunning kiss.
If that night on the balcony had been wedding fever, this was a different level of heat altogether. The kiss tasted of frustration and passion, a fight-fire-with-fire kind of burn that promised so much more—
The earth may well have moved, but Debbie didn’t realize Drew had until he plopped her into the passenger seat of his car. His breathing still ragged from the kiss, he repeated, “You’re not driving home.”
Despite the way the world was still tilting around her, every ounce of independent woman roared inside her. Realizing her hands were still fisted in his shirt, she pushed him away. “I cannot believe you just did that!”
Drew’s jaw tightened as he leaned closer, until she could catch a hint of his aftershave mixed with the woodsy night air. “Believe it.”
The vehicle’s dome light wasn’t very bright, but in its faint glow, she saw something in his hardened expression. Something that made her pulse pound even harder. Something that made her wonder if she was seeing Drew in a different light...or if something had changed in the way he was seeing her.
And she had the feeling that as surprised as she was by his actions, he’d surprised himself even more.
Chapter Four (#ulink_d0501ace-77c8-541f-9e85-1c14d6abf729)
I cannot believe you just did that!
Debbie’s outraged words rang in his head on the silent drive back home. Drew couldn’t believe it himself. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he glanced over at Debbie. She was looking out the side window, giving him little more than a view of the back of her head, but he could imagine the fire in her blue eyes. She had every right to be pissed and to give him the cold shoulder, but her silence at least allowed him the time to get his emotions back under control.
Damn if he couldn’t hear Angie laughing at him now.
His former girlfriend had accused him more than once of not having emotions. If I walk out this door right now, you won’t even try to stop me, will you? she’d demanded during the fight that led to their breakup. Truth was, he had tried to stop her. He’d talked about how good they were together, how much they had in common. He brought up the time they’d both invested in the relationship and asked if she really wanted to throw that away.
But even as the words were coming out of his mouth—logical, sensible words—he’d known it wasn’t enough. Whatever Angie wanted, he didn’t have it within himself to give it to her. And that was the reason why he hadn’t stopped her when she did finally walk out that door.
Never once had it occurred to him to physically pick Angie up and kiss her to try to convince her to stay. Watching Debbie walk away...that instinct had been undeniable.
And it didn’t make sense! Debbie wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend. And while he wouldn’t have let her drive home even if he hadn’t known her her entire life, he could have stopped her another way. Hell, all he’d had to do was take her purse and the keys inside. Simple, easy, logical. And yet that solution had never occurred to him.
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Stacy Connelly
CHECKLIST FOR THE PERFECT PRINCE CHARMING:• Tall, dark and handsome• Passionate• Thoroughly devoted• Capable of spontaneity• Someone who is not Drew Pirelli!After years of putting other people first, Debbie Mattson is ready to look for her own happily-ever-after. Clearville’s favourite baker is determined to leave her small home town and find her perfect man – someplace far away. The last person she would ever consider dating is her childhood friend Drew Pirelli. He’s a homebody, loves small-town life and is ready to settle down. She’s convinced he is Mr Wrong. And then one magical kiss changes everything…
“I thought you might be cold out here.” He held up the shawl.
“Well, thank you,” she said as she reached for the pink material, “but I can take care of myself.”
Drew didn’t doubt it. Debbie had been on her own since her mother died. “I know you can. But once in a while, it’s nice to have someone take care of you.”
Sliding the shawl from her hands, he draped the material over her shoulders, keeping hold of both ends. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But I don’t need—”
“This isn’t about need,” he interrupted. “It’s about want.”
Debbie swallowed. “Want?”
“It’s like … dessert. Not something you need but certainly something you crave.”
“And let me guess. You’re craving something sweet.” The sardonic twist on the word told Drew what Debbie thought of that description—one he’d been guilty of using in the past.
“I was thinking more along the lines of something rich, decadent, a little sinful even.”
Debbie’s eyes widened, huge and sparkling in the faint light streaming through the French doors. He’d gone too far, he thought.
* * *
The Pirelli Brothers: These California boys know what love is all about!
Small-Town
Cinderella
Stacy Connelly
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
STACY CONNELLY has dreamed of publishing books since she was a kid, writing stories about a girl and her horse. Eventually, boys made it onto the page as she discovered a love of romance and the promise of happily ever after.
When she is not lost in the land of make-believe, Stacy lives in Arizona with her two spoiled dogs. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at stacyconnelly@cox.net (mailto:stacyconnelly@cox.net) or www.stacyconnelly.com (http://www.stacyconnelly.com).
To the staff at The Red Garter Bed & Breakfast in Williams, Arizona. Thanks for answering my questions about running a small-town bakery.
Contents
Cover (#u5414fcae-669c-5e68-bdf5-1c1159dc0c0a)
Introduction (#u55c30b53-55ad-544b-82b1-c4994666d47d)
Title Page (#u01fb1dde-cfa9-592b-a1e3-1f8c0d718659)
About the Author (#uddd94c1e-b363-5312-91b4-256a88e116e0)
Dedication (#ua3995e9a-3551-5644-8b2a-e76e8058cf1e)
Chapter One (#uc4b17971-07ee-50fb-8dda-ddc645faf864)
Chapter Two (#u4ad3f2f6-a96c-5a46-9345-d34b945fd03b)
Chapter Three (#u0d335d72-ad89-5da9-90e6-7370d311171a)
Chapter Four (#u3d3c17a0-b188-5bf9-8c03-156cca82a7aa)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_91735ff3-4f99-5d77-b7fe-84fb979eacb1)
“To the newlywed and the two brides-to-be,” Debbie Mattson said as she raised her margarita to her friends. “May you always be as lucky in life as you have been in love.”
Darcy Dawson, the bachelorette of their party, lifted her green-apple martini. “To luck and life and love,” she echoed.
The four women—Debbie, Darcy, Sophia Pirelli Cameron and the newest member of the group, Kara Starling—had gathered at The Clearville Bar and Grille for Darcy’s final send-off as a single woman. The rustic bar was a favorite locale for tourists and townies alike with its flat-screen televisions for the sports lovers and small dance floor for music lovers. Had Debbie been in charge of the bachelorette party, she might have tried for something a little more exciting than dinner and drinks, but Darcy was clearly having a good time, and that was all that mattered.
Six months pregnant, dark-haired Sophia sipped at her own cranberry juice. If Debbie had ever seen a woman with a pregnancy glow, it was her friend, who looked adorable in a floral skirt and long-sleeved pink peasant blouse draped over her round belly. Of course, it just as easily could have been a newlywed glow, as Sophia had married Jake Cameron the previous summer.
Love clearly agreed with Sophia and seemed to be first and foremost on her mind as she exchanged a glance with Darcy and Kara before looking over at Debbie. “With the three of us already finding our guys, you know what that means, right? It’s your turn now.”
Debbie held on to her smile even though she groaned inside. How many times had she heard that over the past few months? Ever since her friends had met their soul mates, they’d set their sights on the only single member left in their circle. At times, she felt very much the lone sheep about to be set upon by wolves. Cunning, devious, matchmaking wolves.
Show no fear, she thought to herself, knowing if she wavered even slightly she was dead meat.
“I’m happy for all of you, I really am. But I’m nowhere near ready to settle down. I’m finally at a place in my life where I have time to look for a little adventure and excitement.”
“And romance?” Darcy chimed in slyly.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to having, oh, say...a red-hot fling.” Debbie took another sip of her margarita, the salty, tart combination making her taste buds tingle while the alcohol warmed her to her subject. “With a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll take me completely by surprise and keep me on my toes.”
“Now you’re talking,” the gorgeous redhead said with a grin.
“Excuse me?” Kara protested, using a look her friends had dubbed her “professor glare.” “Need I remind you that you’re getting married this weekend?”
Lifting up her hands in an innocent gesture she couldn’t quite pull off while still holding her martini glass, the bride-to-be retorted, “All the more reason to live vicariously through Debbie’s escapades. So tell us more about this mystery man.”
Feeling heat rush to her face, Debbie set aside her margarita. “Well, I can tell you one thing. I’m certainly not going to find him here,” she said wryly.
“At the bar?” Kara asked.
“Not here at the bar. Not here in Clearville.” A quick glance around their section of the restaurant confirmed what Debbie already expected.
She knew every single guy in the place. More than that, even; she’d known them all for years. If she thought back, she could picture any number of their embarrassing, awkward moments that were part and parcel of growing up in a small town.
Billy Cummings, the sheriff’s son, had gone on a football kick after seeing his first professional game and had worn a miniature helmet 24/7 for weeks on end. Mark Thompson had had the biggest crush on their freshman English teacher, and his brother, Bruce, swore the garage band he was in would make it big even though none of the members could actually play an instrument. Then there was Darrell Nelson and the cruel pranks he used to play, bullying anyone who was smaller and weaker than he was.
She remembered it all, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she was well aware they remembered all the awkward growing pains she’d gone through, too.
Mystery? Romance? Excitement?
Not a chance, she thought with a sigh.
“Look, just forget everything I said. This is what happens when a milk-and-cookies girl starts hitting the tequila and lime,” she joked, hoping her friends would be as willing to laugh off her comments.
She should have known she wouldn’t be so lucky.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting some romance in your life,” Kara told her.
At first, Debbie had wondered about the quietly serious college professor marrying Sophia’s fun-loving, outgoing brother Sam. But over the past few weeks, Debbie had gotten to know Kara and to see the warm heart behind the classy blonde’s cool exterior.
“And I highly recommend having a gorgeous guy sweep you off your feet.” Darcy grinned. “But why are you totally discounting the whole Clearville male population? I speak from personal experience when I say my guy is anything but boring.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Kara said as she lifted her glass of chardonnay to tap against Darcy’s appletini.
Their smiles shone with newfound love, though Debbie had a hard time picturing Nick and Sam Pirelli as romantic, sweep-a-girl-off-her-feet types. They’d always been more like big brothers to her—sometimes sweet, sometimes annoying, always overprotective big brothers.
That was something Sophia as the youngest Pirelli and only girl could certainly understand. After exchanging a look with her friend, Debbie argued, “It’s different for the two of you. Neither of you grew up here, so to you, Clearville guys are mysterious and exciting. But for me, these are the guys I’ve known forever. The boys next door. No mystery, no excitement, no sparks.”
All that was bad enough. Worse was knowing the male population of the town viewed her the same way. The girl next door. The buddy, the pal, the friend whose shoulder they cried on when the popular, pretty girls turned them down.
She winced at the memory when she thought of the name that had followed her since her days at Redwood Elementary School, thanks in part to the bakery her mother owned and the sweets that had filled her lunches and helped fill out her waistline. She’d never been “little” anything, and while she’d known the nickname was mostly a lighthearted tease, it had hurt all the same.
Now she was the owner of Bonnie’s Bakery, and the years of taking care of her mother after she’d fallen ill and spending all her free time at the bakery had toughened her like overkneaded dough. Her feelings weren’t so easily injured anymore, though she’d suffered a setback thanks to her last boyfriend.
She and Robert Watkins had dated casually for several months earlier in the year, and things had finally started to get serious over the summer. Serious enough for them to sleep together.
Debbie still wasn’t sure which was worse, the pain of heartbreak or the pain of humiliation as she remembered that fateful weekend, and how he’d picked the very next day to tell her he thought they’d be better off just being friends.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the breakup hadn’t dragged her back to her high school insecurities. To being every guy’s friend, the buddy they could talk to about the prettier, more popular girls they liked. She thought she’d gotten over that. She was over it. But Debbie couldn’t pretend the split with Robert hadn’t brought back a lot of bad memories.
Memories she was determined to overcome. She was woman enough to have confidence in herself, to know what she wanted and to go after it.
“I’m not sure you’re giving these guys enough credit,” Darcy argued. “There are some nice men around here who’d be thrilled to know you’re looking for a boyfriend.” Her eyes lit suddenly. “What about Jarrett Deeks? He and Nick have gotten to be friends working together at Jarrett’s horse rescue. We could set up a double date if you want.”
Debbie cringed slightly at the thought. “No, thank you, Darcy. I’m sure Jarrett’s great and all, but a double date isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Her friend’s brow furrowed. “But if you’re looking for a relationship—”
“I’m not,” she interrupted. “Not really.”
“A not-really relationship?” Kara echoed.
“I’m not looking for anything that serious.” Debbie stabbed her straw at the ice cubes lingering at the bottom of her glass. “I just want to have some fun.” Leaning back against the padded booth, she said, “I feel like I missed out on so much growing up, you know?”
“Actually, we don’t.” Kara leaned forward, her expression open and interested. “You talk a lot without saying much about yourself.”
Debbie blinked, startled by her friend’s comment. “I don’t do that...do I?” She knew she liked to talk, and the more nervous she became, the more she said—often without saying much at all. But she didn’t like to think she fell into that pattern even with her friends. It sounded...selfish. Like she expected them to open their hearts and spill their guts while she kept all her emotions inside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“Sweetie, it’s not a criticism. Just a comment.”
“And I do know what you mean, Deb,” Sophia interjected as she shifted forward in the booth as far as her pregnant belly would allow. “So many of us grew up together that we don’t go around talking about past history because everyone knows everything.”
“But we’re new.” Darcy’s nod included Kara as she added, “So you can tell us all your old stories without worrying that we’ve heard them before.”
“Well, okay, but just because you haven’t heard it all before doesn’t mean it isn’t still boring. My dad was in the military and was killed overseas when I was really young, so growing up, it was just me and my mom. I was still in high school when she was diagnosed with cancer.”
Debbie could still remember walking into the bakery after school that day, the scent of vanilla and chocolate strong in the air. She’d been so excited. Posters had decorated the hall for the homecoming dance, and she’d been so sure that that year someone would ask her to go. She even had the perfect dress picked out, her teenage head filled with plans for the future.
“I could tell right away something was wrong, and when she told me— It was like a nightmare. Something that couldn’t be true. But it was.”
Clearing her throat, she said, “Anyway, my mom always was a fighter, so she went through all the tests and surgeries and treatments, all while still trying to run the bakery. For a while, I thought about dropping out of school, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I took as few classes as I could to get by, quit all extracurricular activities, and I worked in the bakery every spare second I had. A few hours before school and then from the minute I got out until close.”
She’d never bought that dress. Had never attended that homecoming dance or any other dance in high school. The bakery became Debbie’s life the way it had always been her mother’s before that.
“It was all I could do.... I couldn’t make her better, but I could make the cupcakes,” she concluded with a watery laugh.
Shaking off the sorrows of the past, she protested, “This is not the conversation for a bachelorette party! Here I’m talking about wanting to have fun, and yet I’m the one bringing everyone down.”
“You aren’t. I think what you did was amazing, and I know a little of what you went through,” Darcy confided.
Debbie knew her friend had lost her mother a few years ago. It was that loss that had prompted Darcy to move to her mother’s hometown and open the beauty shop the two of them had always dreamed of owning. Darcy had shared that with Debbie not long after they met, and yet she hadn’t thought to confide in her friend about her own past, despite what the two of them had in common. Was it like Sophia said, and Debbie simply expected everyone to already know her life story, or was there more to it?
Saving that thought for another time, Debbie said, “Thank you, but it didn’t feel like much. Still, I knew how much the bakery meant to my mom, and I did all I could to keep the doors open so she could concentrate on getting better. And for a while, she did. The cancer went into remission for a few years before it came back, but the second time there was no fighting it.”
And after her mother had passed away, it was just Debbie and the bakery. Working long hours to numb the sense of loss and to slowly accept the bakery now was her future. The dreams she’d had in high school of attending culinary school and becoming a chef had slipped way as she’d kneaded dough and rolled out cookies and decorated cupcakes. But somehow, as those hours turned into days and weeks and years, a minor miracle had taken place.
The reputation of the small-town shop had grown.
Business had increased thanks to Debbie establishing an online presence. Now her loyal customers didn’t have to wait for their yearly trip to the tourist town to order her desserts. They could cater to their craving for something sweet with a few clicks of a mouse, and Debbie could ship her cookies and cheesecakes straight to their door.
She’d even gained the attention of Just Desserts magazine. The article had praised her double-chocolate cake and strawberry-filled vanilla cupcakes. As pleased as she was with the recognition, Debbie couldn’t help feeling like, well, a fraud. Those were her mother’s recipes, and Bonnie should have been the one to bask in the glow of the reporter’s praise.
But the article, along with the increase in business, had inspired Debbie to hire on more help. Over the years, she’d frequently paid local teens to run the front register. But Kayla Walker, a young mother who’d moved to Clearville with her boyfriend after she’d inherited a house from her late grandfather, was the first employee Debbie had trained to do the actual baking.
Thanks to Kayla, Debbie now had the chance to expand the menu a bit. To offer her mother’s tried-and-true recipes as well as some not-so-vanilla recipes of her own. And with the rush of engagements lately, she was also getting the opportunity to shift her attention from everyday cupcakes and muffins to once-in-a-lifetime wedding cakes.
Working with the bride and groom to find the perfect flavor and filling combinations was a challenge she enjoyed. And then there was the decorating—the literal icing on the cake. The creativity and artistry of building the multiple layers, of designing the perfect flowers and ribbons and scrollwork... She loved every step of the detailed work.
And while she might be a complete flop when it came to love and romance, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a believer in other couples’ happily ever afters. Her friends were all proof that loves of a lifetime did exist, and while Debbie couldn’t be more pleased, she wasn’t looking to join them.
For the first time in nearly a decade, she had time. Time to think, to breathe, to hang up her apron and have some fun. And if her mother’s death had taught her anything, it was that life was short, and Debbie was determined to make the most of it.
“So maybe that’s why I’m not looking to settle down,” she concluded. “I’ve been too settled already, too serious and dedicated throughout what should have been the best years of my life. I know the three of you have found the guys of your dreams, and I’m happy for you all, but that’s just not what I’m looking for.”
“Debbie wants Mr. Excitement,” Sophia said with a wink.
“Mr. Mysterious,” Darcy seconded.
“Here’s to finding Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome,” Kara added.
Still feeling a little ridiculous for spelling out her dream man to her friends, Debbie lifted her glass. “I will definitely drink to that.”
Draining the last of her margarita, she admitted finding an exciting and mysterious man was only half the wish. Finding a man who thought she was exciting and mysterious...now, that would be a fantasy come true.
* * *
Drew Pirelli was not a man given to eavesdropping. Living in Clearville his whole life, he was very familiar with its grapevine and the wildfire spread of small-town gossip. He preferred to mind his own business with the somewhat vain hope others would do the same. Neither was he the type to spy on his sister and future sisters-in-law.
If he’d known drinks at the bar and grill were part of the plan for Darcy’s bachelorette party, he would have stayed away. Far away. But he’d been somewhat out of the Pirelli family loop recently, something his parents had commented on more than once. He’d used work as a handy excuse, and he was busy running his construction company, but that was only part of the reason why he’d avoided family gatherings recently.
How was it, he wondered, that he was the last unattached Pirelli sibling?
Ever since the custom-home side of his business had taken off, Drew had started each project with his own future family in mind. He pictured his wife and family gathered together in the kitchen. His kids watching television or playing games in the den. The woman he loved welcoming him to bed in the spacious master suite.
And yet at the end of each project, he turned the keys over to some other man who would live with his wife and children in the house Drew had painstakingly built.
The nagging dissatisfaction of giving away a piece of himself in each of his houses had convinced him to start building his own place. But that had created another frustration. His attention to detail, the dream of making a house into his home, had helped Drew cement his reputation as one of the most sought-after contractors in Northern California. Because of that, he was having trouble finding time to work on his own project while managing the custom-home business as well as the rental cabins he was currently building for Jarrett Deeks.
Not that it was all bad. Professionally, he was as rock solid as the houses he built. On a personal level, though, he couldn’t seem to find his footing.
And that was the real reason he’d been keeping his distance from his family. He was tired of being the third, fifth, heck, even the ninth wheel, depending on how many of his relatives showed up.
Which was how he’d ended up completely out of the loop when it came to Darcy’s bachelorette party.
When he’d first recognized the female voices coming from the other side of the half wall separating the two rows of booths, he’d slid across the padded seat, ready to slip away unnoticed. Though no expert at bachelorette parties, he knew enough to realize guys weren’t allowed.
But before he could push to his feet, the words drifting over from the other side of the booth nailed him to the spot.
I wouldn’t be opposed to having a red-hot fling with a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll take completely by surprise and keep me on my toes.
It wasn’t the words that had knocked his feet out from under him. It was shock at the swift, unexpected kick of desire he felt when he heard them.
Drew had known Debbie Mattson her entire life. His earliest memories of her were of her standing on tiptoe to peek up over the counter at her mother’s bakery, her big blue eyes sparkling as she flashed her dimples at every customer to walk through the door. She was the typical girl next door. Sweet, friendly, cute. She was his kid sister’s friend, but her words pointed out a truth he’d been denying for the past several months.
Debbie wasn’t a kid anymore.
His knuckles whitened around the cool glass bottle, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to fight so hard not to follow his first instinct. An instinct logic told him was completely irrational. If he did what he longed to do, opened his mouth and spouted off like some kind of idiot about nice girls staying home and waiting for the right kind of guy to come along, Debbie would likely knock his block off, and he’d deserve it.
Debbie was a grown woman now. A beautiful woman, he was reminded as he thought back to Sophia’s wedding a few months earlier.
The wedding had been a small affair, with the reception held in their parents’ backyard. Already a few months pregnant at the time, his sister had wanted to keep things quiet and low-key. She’d still felt a little insecure about returning home after leaving town five years before following a break-in at The Hope Chest, the local antiques shop she now managed. Though Sophia hadn’t been involved in the burglary and vandalism, she’d taken the blame. Feelings of guilt had kept her away until their parents’ anniversary party brought her back—with her former boyfriend, Jake Cameron, hot on her heels.
Like the rest of the family, Drew had been happy his sister had fallen in love with a good man who was clearly in love with her. The day of the wedding, Sophia had looked beautiful in her off-white gown with pale pink roses woven into her dark hair, and her new husband hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.
But it was Debbie, Sophia’s maid of honor, who kept drawing Drew’s attention. Something she’d evidently noticed as their gazes met before she made her way across lush green lawn. The pale pink gown hugged her curves and left the fair skin of her shoulders and arms bare. Her blond hair was caught up in a cascade of ringlets, and her blue eyes glittered in the white lights strung between the trees. “You should know, Drew, my money’s on you.”
“Excuse me?”
“The bet on whether you or Sam will be the next to fall,” Debbie said, referring to his younger, footloose brother.
“Seriously? People are placing bets?”
“You better believe it,” she retorted. “And my money’s on you all the way. Sam’s not the type to settle down while you, well, you’re about as settled as any guy I’ve ever met.”
“Sorry, Debbie, I couldn’t tell. Was that an insult or a compliment?”
Tipping her head back, she gave a boisterous laugh guaranteed to turn every male head her way. “Oh, that was a compliment. If I decide to insult you, trust me when I say you’ll feel it.”
“So you think I’m settled?” he asked, falling back on the teasing, brotherly attitude that had long marked their relationship, even as he felt that balance start to shift in a way he couldn’t explain.
“You’re as grounded as a man can be and still manage to move both feet.”
At the time, her teasing comments hadn’t bothered him. Much. But now Debbie’s voice reached inside him and threatened to shake something loose. The excitement, the anticipation, the “what if” underscoring her words struck a chord inside him that had been still and silent far too long.
But Debbie wasn’t the woman who should be striking those notes. She was a friend, a good friend, and thinking of her in any other way just seemed...wrong. For Drew, dating had always been something of a game, a battle of the sexes he only engaged in on a level playing field. He liked women who were sophisticated and experienced and not the type to have their hearts easily broken. Women very unlike Debbie, who, despite the girl talk going on one booth over, had a tender and innocent heart she hid behind a smart mouth and sassy smile.
The hell of it was that he liked her. A lot. Too much, maybe, for him to ask her out and risk Debbie getting hurt. And getting hurt was exactly what might happen if she was serious about going after her mysterious stranger.
Judging from the sounds coming from the other booth, the women were getting ready to leave. Drew set his beer aside and half rose, ready to circle around to the other side of the restaurant and tell Debbie—what, exactly? That she shouldn’t—couldn’t—go after the adventure and excitement she was looking for?
She was young, beautiful, single. After the years of caring for her mother and running the bakery, she had every right to go after what she wanted. Any man would jump at the chance to fulfill the longing he’d heard in Debbie’s voice.
Or more like any other man because Drew just didn’t think of Debbie that way.
Did he?
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t want us to give you a ride?” Sophia asked as the four women stepped out of the bar onto the quiet street. For obvious reasons, she was the designated driver and was in charge of seeing Darcy and Kara safely home.
“I only live five minutes away.” She’d lived her entire life in a small apartment above the bakery. As a teenager, she’d longed for more space and room of her own, but after her mother passed away, the two-bedroom unit had been more than large enough, at times seeming far too empty. “The night air will help clear my head.”
Debbie knew her limit and had stopped after her second margarita. The first had loosened her tongue more than she wanted to admit. She could only hope the drinks the other women had enjoyed would help them forget some of the foolish things she’d said.
“All right. But if you meet up with any dark handsome strangers on the way home, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
No such luck with her perfectly sober best friend. “Can you please forget I said anything?”
Sophia grinned impishly, reminding Debbie of when they’d been kids, always looking for some kind of trouble. “Not a chance.”
With a put-upon sigh, Debbie looked over at the bride-to-be. “Have a good night, Darcy, and just think, the next time we’re all together, you’ll be a few hours away from becoming Mrs. Nick Pirelli.”
The redhead’s beaming smile could have lit the sky. “I can’t wait!”
Leaving her friends with a wave goodbye, Debbie walked the quiet street toward the bakery. The night was cold with a definite hint of fall in the air, along with woodsmoke drifting from a nearby chimney. Halloween decorations lurked in the shadows behind the darkened windows, reminding Debbie the holiday was less than a month away.
She wasn’t sure when she first noticed the sound of footsteps behind her. With the bar only a few doors back, it wasn’t that unusual to think someone else had decided to walk off a beer or two. But the late hour and emptiness of the stores around her was enough to quicken her pace. Most nights she would have circled around to the alleyway behind the bakery and the outside staircase that led directly to her apartment. But tonight, the security lights inside the shop beckoned with the promise of safety.
Reaching inside her oversize bag, she fumbled for her keys. Why couldn’t she be one of those women who carried a purse the size of a cell phone case? Instead she’d fallen in love with a tapestry-style tote and stuffed it to the zipper with every item she might ever need. Her finger brushed a metal ring, but her relief was short-lived as she identified the extra set of measuring spoons she’d somehow misplaced. Swearing beneath her breath, she looked inside her bag and spotted the pink enamel cupcake-shaped key ring Sophia had given for her last birthday.
Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a sound behind her—
“Debbie! Wait up!”
Stumbling, she glanced back over her shoulder toward the familiar voice. “Drew? What do you think you’re doing!” she demanded as he jogged toward her. Her heart still pounding, she reached out and socked him on the arm. The muscled bicep felt rock solid against her knuckles, and he didn’t even flinch. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
The dim lighting from the shop windows illuminated his frown. “I called your name like three times.”
He had? “Oh, sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“And that’s the problem. You should be paying attention. Walking home by yourself—”
Swallowing a sigh, she tuned out the rest of what he was saying. Clearly with Sophia now married with a husband to take care of her, Drew had decided to move his big-brother act down the road and to her door.
Debbie had long thought Sophia’s middle brother was the most handsome of the three very good-looking men. She’d even had a crush on him once upon a time when she’d been a starry-eyed kid experiencing her first rush of romance. Or hormones, she thought ruefully, still slightly embarrassed by the tongue-tied, blushing preteen she’d once been. But that was a long time ago, and she was over him.
Still, that didn’t stop a few of those long-buried feelings from shaking off a bit of dust as she gazed up at him in the moonlight. Even casually dressed like just about every local guy, in a gray henley shirt tucked into faded jeans and a denim jacket to ward off the chill stretched across his broad shoulders, something about Drew made him stand out from the crowd. It was more than looks—although he was...so...good-looking. Totally unfair, in fact, for a man to be that gorgeous.
How many times had she imagined running her fingers through the waves in his dark hair? Pictured how his brown eyes would darken with passion in the seconds before he kissed her? Wondered what it would be like to feel his body pressed against hers?
How many hours had she wasted, her mind taunted her, since Drew would never think of her in the same way?
Slapping those old memories aside, Debbie cut off the rest of his lecture, insisting, “I can take care of myself, Drew. I’m a big girl now.”
Was it her imagination or had his gaze dropped slightly at her words, giving her a subtle once-over? She didn’t have many opportunities to dress up, and the bachelorette party had given her an excuse to wear her new cream slacks and the wide-necked gold sweater that hugged her curves and, yes, she’d admit it, showed off a fair amount of cleavage. She’d pulled on her leather jacket before leaving the bar, but the blazer style only had a single button, which emphasized rather than hid her figure.
Not that Drew would notice. Her heart skipped a beat. Would he?
“All the more reason to be careful,” he warned, his voice gruffer than a moment before. Enough to make her wonder. “A woman like you—”
“A woman like me?”
“A beautiful woman like you needs to be careful. There are guys out there who would take advantage.”
Debbie’s mind was too caught up on his first words—Drew thought she was beautiful?—to pay attention to whatever else it was he was so intent on telling her. And as he walked her the rest of the way home, a solid masculine presence at her side, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if Drew was one of those guys. The kind to take advantage at the end of a date by pushing for a good-night kiss and maybe even more.
Her skin heated, and she could only bless the moonlight for hiding her reaction to the thought. Because of course this wasn’t a date, and as they reached the bakery door, she reminded him, “This is Clearville, Drew. I know pretty much all the guys ‘out there.’”
His jaw clenched as if holding back whatever else he wanted to say. And despite her claim of knowing all there was to know about Clearville guys, his dark eyes were glittering in a way that was completely...unfamiliar.
“Maybe,” he finally conceded as he reached out for her keys, “but you never know what might happen...even in a small town like this.”
His hand closed over hers, and Debbie’s breath caught in her chest. The stroke of his thumb against her skin combined with the deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Surely not what he intended. He was warning her, wasn’t he? Trying to scare her...not trying to seduce her.
Heart pounding, her mouth was suddenly too dry to swallow and her tongue snuck out to dampen her lips. Drew tracked the movement, the small amount of moisture evaporating as he leaned closer...
Turning the key in the lock, he pushed the door open and stepped back. “Good night, Debbie. Sweet dreams.”
His parting words stayed with her long after she’d climbed the stairs to the safety of her apartment and locked the door behind her. Sweet dreams? With her hand still tingling from his touch, Debbie knew Drew had just about guaranteed he would play a starring role in hers!
Chapter Two (#ulink_42616c28-0239-525a-b2c1-8d839c5b1fd3)
“Don’t they make such a lovely couple?”
Debbie looked away from the just-married couple in question to meet Vanessa Pirelli’s smiling expression. Nick and Darcy were supposed to be posing for pictures beside the three-tiered wedding cake, but from what Debbie could see, the two of them appeared completely oblivious as they gazed into each other’s eyes. The love between them radiated as brightly as the antique chandelier glowing overhead.
The bride and groom had decided on a small wedding, and friends and family had gathered at Hillcrest House for their reception. The sprawling Victorian with its peaked turrets and dormer windows sat elegantly atop a bluff overlooking the ocean. The upper two floors had been converted into hotel rooms while the first-floor dining room was now a high-class, intimate restaurant. The ballroom had mostly remained untouched, still in use after 125 years. With its intricate mahogany wainscot, hand-carved moldings and coffered ceilings, the location added to the romance of Nick and Darcy’s wedding reception.
Debbie nodded at the older woman’s words. “They do,” she agreed. “It was a beautiful wedding.”
“Mmm-hmm. It’s always a pleasure to see young people in love. Nick and Darcy, Sophia and Jake, Sam and Kara...” The mother of the groom’s gaze turned speculative. “And you and Drew certainly make a good-looking couple.”
Debbie should have seen it coming. This was the second wedding where she and Drew had walked down the aisle together as part of a wedding party. The matchup made perfect sense, as they were both single. What didn’t make as much sense was the rush of heat to her face as she fought to squirm beneath his mother’s speculative gaze. Praying her cheeks weren’t as bright as the burgundy bridesmaid’s dress she wore, Debbie shook her head.
“Mrs. Pirelli—”
“Now, how many times have I asked you to call me Vanessa? You know you’re practically family.”
“You’re exactly right, Vanessa. All of your sons have always been like big brothers to me. There’s never been anything romantic between any of us. Including me and Drew.”
Not even the night of Darcy’s bachelorette party.
In the days since, Debbie convinced herself whatever she thought had happened between her and Drew within the faint glow of her shop windows...hadn’t. Drew had simply been looking out for her, same as always, his parting words a brotherly warning and not a sensual promise.
With that in mind, she’d gone out of her way to treat him the same as always. She’d met his gaze with a big smile and had taken his arm for their walk down the aisle with a friendly tug. She had not noticed the strength of the bicep linked with her own any more than she’d felt a shiver race across her shoulders when that muscled arm brushed against her. And she most certainly did not keep sneaking looks at him out of the corner of her eye to see if he was sneaking looks at her.
Because he wasn’t, and that was that.
Vanessa sighed. “You can’t blame a mother for trying to find the right girl for her son. After all, you’re a beautiful, strong, confident woman.”
Though the trim brunette with sparkling green eyes didn’t have any resemblance to Debbie’s own well-rounded, blond-haired, blue-eyed mother, the warmth and kindness of the words surrounded Debbie like one of her mother’s vanilla-scented hugs. “Thank you, Vanessa. That means a lot to me.”
“And, if I do say so myself, my son is not such a bad catch, either.”
Tipping her head back with a laugh, Debbie couldn’t help but agree, and not just because she was talking to Drew’s mother. “You’re absolutely right. Drew is a good man. One of the best, which makes him a wonderful friend.”
But not the man for her. Drew was as grounded and stable as the houses he built. Not at all the type to rush headlong into adventure and excitement. Worse, Debbie thought as pinpricks of heat stabbed at her, he had known her for her entire life. He’d probably be able to recall every fashion disaster, every bad hair day, every extra pound that haunted her past. She wanted a man who would look at her and see her now, as the strong, confident woman Vanessa described and not as the chubby, awkward girl she’d once been.
Debbie glanced over her shoulder at Drew, knowing right where he was standing even while pretending not to. Her breath caught as their gazes met and held. He wasn’t looking at her like he was remembering her fashion disaster/bad hair days. If she didn’t know better—
A flush started at her painted toes and made a slow, sensual climb. If she didn’t know better she might have thought he was looking at her the same way a dieting man always looked at her buns—her sugar-glazed cinnamon buns, that was—like he wanted to devour her and not stop until they were both satisfied. But that was crazy, wasn’t it?
After all, this was Drew she was thinking about. Even-keel, think-things-through Drew Pirelli. He wasn’t the kind of man to devour desserts. More the type to savor a meal, to take things slow and—
How exactly is this helping? she demanded of herself even as she tore her gaze away.
“Well, it’s not unheard of for friendship to turn to something more,” Vanessa remarked. “If you keep an open heart, you never know what might happen.”
The echo of the words Drew had spoken the other night spurred Debbie into action. This was not happening. After asking Vanessa to excuse her, she grabbed a glass of champagne on her way across the floral-patterned carpet. If she decided to have some kind of reckless affair—and she had to admit, that was way more talk than action on her part so far—she had the right kind of man in mind. That was not Drew Pirelli.
Drew was the kind of man a woman committed to wholeheartedly and for her entire life. Debbie wasn’t ready for that. Just the thought sent a suffocating panic pressing down on her chest. She was ready for fun. So no matter how great of a guy Drew was, and he was the greatest, he was her friend. And the sooner they got back on friendly terms, the...safer she would feel.
And how’s that kind of thinking fit a daring woman out for reckless affair?
Ignoring the mocking voice in her head, Debbie smiled as she reached Drew’s side. It was what she called her Bonnie’s Best smile, the one she’d put on for her mother all those years ago to show Bonnie she could focus entirely on her own health because her daughter was doing just fine. The same smile she’d used to greet neighbors and friends when they asked about her mother’s health and later when they inquired about Debbie in the weeks and months after Bonnie’s death.
Doing just fine! Thanks so much for asking.
The smile had gotten her through much tougher times than a sudden and inappropriate infatuation with Drew Pirelli.
Pointing her champagne flute at him, Debbie spoke before Drew had the chance. “I have a bone to pick with you!” Her smile felt a little less forced as she went on the offensive. The teasing, confrontational tone was just right for their relationship. It was as comfortable and familiar as Drew himself, and only their surroundings at the posh hotel ballroom kept her from giving a lighthearted pop on the shoulder. “You cost me fifty bucks.”
His dark brows rose, and he met her mock anger with a smile. But was there something different there? Something other than his usual, almost patronizing expression? He waited, biding his time, until she reached his side. His breath teased the bare skin of her neck as he leaned close and asked, “How did I do that?”
Debbie fought off a shiver threatening to shake her down to her shoes. “The bet, remember? I thought for sure you would be the next Pirelli to fall and yet Sam’s already engaged. How the heck did that happen?”
He frowned as if seriously weighing her words. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
His espresso eyes challenged her, and Debbie’s confidence started to tremble right along with her suddenly weak knees. Swallowing, she countered, “More like I don’t know Sam. After all, he’s the one who got engaged when I never thought he would.”
“And I’m the one who’s still single. Maybe I’m not as settled as you seem to think.”
If anyone was unsettled, Debbie decided, it was definitely her. She should walk away now, while she still could, while she still had any hope of getting back on equal footing with Drew again. But that was ridiculous because she did know him. She knew him well enough to realize he was messing with her, giving her a hard time, same as always. She was the one who was overreacting thanks to her foolish decision to give voice to her fantasies. She was the one who’d let the crazy thoughts out, and it was going to be up to her to put them back where they belonged.
“Come on, Drew. Tell me you don’t see yourself married with a couple of kids.” A look of admission flashed in his eyes, and Debbie pressed her point. Nodding in Nick and Darcy’s direction, she said, “Tell me you don’t want that.”
He glanced over at the happy couple, who were busy staring into each other’s eyes. “Sure, I do,” he agreed readily enough for Debbie to think she’d been right all along about him playing her. “Someday. But there’s something else I want right now.”
She didn’t realize what Drew meant until he took the slim flute from her, set it aside on a nearby table and pulled her onto the dance floor. Her hand rose automatically to rest on his shoulder and her feet quickly found the rhythm of the slow, romantic ballad. It was hardly the first time she and Drew had danced together, and as he pulled her closer, she caught scent of his cologne. The woody fragrance with its hint of cedar was the same brand he’d worn for years—a yearly Christmas gift from his sister. Sophia knew her brother wouldn’t bother to buy something he’d consider unnecessary. Debbie knew it, too. She knew Drew. He was as comforting and familiar as the smell of his cologne, except—
The trip in her pulse as he spun her beneath the crystal chandelier wasn’t the slow, steady pace of comfort, and she found no familiarity in the tingle of goose bumps chasing across her chest when her breasts brushed the starched front of Drew’s tuxedo shirt. His eyes darkened—whether as a result of the intimate contact or in reaction to her own, Debbie didn’t know, but there was no denying the heat in his gaze.
The rush of unexpected and unwanted desire took Debbie back to her teenage years and her helpless, overwhelming crush on Drew. To the unrequited longing mixed with the heartbreaking knowledge that he would never see her as anything more than his kid sister’s friend. A part of her, that small part that had never lost hope even in the most hopeless of situations, longed to believe everything she was seeing in Drew’s expression, longed to believe that maybe, just maybe, he did view her as more than the girl next door.
A decade-old memory drifted through her thoughts. The door to the bakery had been open, letting in the warm summer air and allowing the scents of fresh-baked breads and muffins to drift out onto the sidewalk, to lure tourists and locals inside. Standing behind the counter, she’d caught sight of Drew through the front window. He’d been away at college, but her pulse had taken that same familiar leap as if he’d never been gone a day. He’d smiled at her as he’d stepped inside and the warmth in his gaze had threatened to reach inside and pull her heart straight from her chest.
She’d cut her hair since she’d seen him last, straightening the life out of the curls she hated and taming the locks into a more sophisticated style. She’d been on yet another diet and had dropped to a smaller size. Was this the day when Drew would finally see her for who she really was? Anticipation hammered through her veins until she’d caught sight of the tall, leggy brunette on Drew’s arm.
Debbie had kept her smile firmly in place as he introduced her to the girlfriend he’d met at school. She asked all the appropriate questions, showed just the right amount of friendly interest until the moment the couple said goodbye. As the two of them walked out of the shop, Debbie had heard the other girl teasingly ask if she was one of Drew’s ex-girlfriends.
Nah, that’s just Debbie.
She could still feel the ache of a broken heart as her dreams of Drew being her boyfriend slipped from her fingers and into the gorgeous brunette’s hands. But she’d wised up after that, too, forcing herself to get over her pointless crush. She didn’t want to be “just Debbie,” and she refused to follow the vain hope that Drew might see her any other way.
Lifting her chin, she met his gaze head on. “If this is wedding fever, you should know I’m immune.”
“Wedding fever?”
“You know,” she answered. “Sympathy pains brought on by too much contact with the crazy-in-love bride and groom.”
“I wouldn’t call anything I’m feeling right now pain.”
Debbie stumbled slightly at his words only to have Drew pull her even tighter against his chest. How many times had she dreamed of a moment like this? A moment when Drew would hold her close and finally, finally claim her mouth with his own? If he kissed her now—
Oh, if he did, Debbie had no doubt she’d fall for him all over again, wrapping herself in foolish hopes and dreams that had no place in the real world. Gazing up into his eyes beneath the chandelier’s glittering lights, the promise of the longed for kiss made the risk almost, almost seem worth it....
Fortunately, the song came to an end, giving her the excuse to step back and take a sanity-saving breath. “That’s the fever talking. You’re delirious, but don’t worry, it won’t last.”
“Debbie—”
“I need to check if Darcy needs anything. Bridesmaid’s duty and all.”
Quickly slipping away, Debbie ducked between the guests gathered along the edges of the dance floor, but she didn’t stop to look for the bride amid the crowd. She escaped through the first doorway she found. The sound of music and laughter faded as she stepped out onto a secluded balcony overlooking the historic bed-and-breakfast’s manicured grounds. The cool, ocean-scented night air touched her warm cheeks, and as Debbie gazed up at the night sky, she couldn’t help thinking all the stars she’d wished upon for all those years were laughing down at her now.
As her mother had often warned her... “Be careful what you wish for,” she whispered.
* * *
Drew quickly lost sight of Debbie as she darted out the French doors at the back of the ballroom. Forcing himself to let her go, he headed over to the bar and ordered a beer. He clenched the cold bottle in his hand and took a long swallow of the malty brew. She had every reason to run away from him, and he had no right to go after her until he figured out what the hell was going on.
Was Debbie right? Was he suffering from some kind of wedding fever? The explanation made as much sense as anything he could come up with to justify why he was suddenly tempted to throw caution aside when he was with her. Which was crazy, since reason had always trumped emotion in every hand he’d ever played. His head always ruled his heart. How many times had his last girlfriend, Angie, told him to stop thinking and start feeling whenever the inevitable “where is this relationship going?” talk came up?
He’d tried telling her how he felt—he found her attractive, he enjoyed spending time with her, their common interests made a good foundation for a relationship—but none of those explanations satisfied her. She’d wanted something more...just like Debbie did.
He’d overheard the words from her himself. Debbie wanted adventure, excitement, mystery—not a guy she’d known her whole life.
You’re as grounded as a man can be and still manage to move both feet.
The memory of the accusation she’d made at his sister’s wedding grated on his nerves, and he didn’t even know why. The truth was, he prided himself on making solid decisions, on not rushing into situations without being able to predict the outcome. If he crossed the line from friendship to something more with Debbie, he had no idea where that might lead.
Yet knowing all that hadn’t stopped him from asking her to dance, or from wanting more than a dance....
She was right about one thing. If their names ended up linked by the local grapevine, assumptions would immediately be made.
Drew snorted. With the rate his siblings were getting hitched, his parents would be sending out wedding invitations within a week.
He hadn’t missed the little conversation between his mother and Debbie earlier. He could only hope his mother had been a little more subtle than she’d been after the rehearsal dinner a few nights before. A dinner he’d attended alone. He’d made excuses about work and the custom house he was building keeping him too busy for a relationship, but his mother had quickly called him out on it.
“Do you think I haven’t noticed how many family dinners you’ve missed recently?” she’d demanded. And then softer, she questioned, “And do you think I don’t know the real reason why?”
Okay, so maybe he had been feeling like the odd man out, but he wasn’t about to admit that to his mother. “I’ve been busy. That’s the only reason.”
His mother sighed, giving him the look that could still make him feel like he was six years old. “I have to say, I never thought you would be the child I would have to worry about.”
Drew winced in memory.
His mother would love nothing more than to see him settle down.
All the more reason not to follow Debbie out onto the secluded balcony. He almost had himself convinced when he spotted her shawl draped across the back of the chair she’d abandoned. Leaving the half-finished bottle of beer at the bar, he crossed the room to the table that had been reserved for the wedding party. And just as he’d been unable to stop himself from pulling her onto the dance floor, he reached for the softly woven shawl. The scent of her perfume, a mix of spicy and sweet that perfectly captured Debbie’s personality, drifted over him. Pulling him in when he knew he should be walking away.
As he moved toward the balcony doors, he was stopped several times along the way by friends and neighbors. He took their ribbing about being the only unattached Pirelli with good humor even if the phrase “last man standing” was already getting old. He knew it would get worse after Sam’s wedding. Still, he pushed the thought aside. He was a man on a mission, out to find a certain bridesmaid.
She turned as he opened the door, her arms crossed tightly to ward off the night air. For Drew, the chill was a relief after the ballroom’s crowded interior. But it wasn’t exactly a cold shower, and not nearly cold enough to keep his body from heating when he noticed the swell of flesh above her dress’s neckline.
All brides were supposed to be beautiful, and Darcy was undeniably gorgeous. But it was Debbie who had knocked the breath from Drew’s lungs when he’d caught sight of her walking down the aisle.
He should have been better prepared, seeing her now, but maybe he hadn’t recovered from that first blow. Her blond hair was caught to one side, her golden curls tumbling over her shoulder. The bridesmaids’ gowns reflected Darcy’s taste, and Debbie looked amazing in the halter-style burgundy dress. Tiny beads highlighted the bodice, and the rich fabric fell to the tops of her strappy sandals with a slit in the side guaranteed to blow his mind with revealing flashes of her shapely calf and thigh.
Her blue eyes gazed at him warily. “Drew...”
He heard the protest in her voice and held up the shawl. “I thought you might be cold out here.”
“Oh.”
Was it his imagination or did she sound disappointed that he’d followed her for such an innocent reason? “Well, thank you,” she said as she reached for the pink material, “but I can take care of myself.”
Drew didn’t doubt it. Debbie had been on her own since her mother died. Before that, really, with the care Bonnie Mattson had needed during her illness. He’d long admired Debbie’s independence and the way she’d scoffed at the idea of needing a man. But for the first time, that toughness seemed to soften something inside his chest. He held on to the shawl, keeping their hands tangled together in the wispy fabric. “I know you can. But once in a while, it’s nice to have someone take care of you.”
Sliding the shawl from her hands, he draped the material over her shoulders, keeping hold of both ends. “Maybe,” she conceded, though her slightly stiff posture wasn’t giving an inch. “But I don’t need—”
“This isn’t about need,” he interrupted. “It’s about want.”
Debbie swallowed. “Want?”
“It’s like...dessert. Not something you need, but certainly something you crave.”
“And let me guess. You’re craving something sweet.” The sardonic twist on the word told Drew what Debbie thought of that description—one he’d been guilty of using in the past. She’d nailed it when she complained to Darcy and her fellow bridesmaids about the local guys treating her like a little sister or a platonic buddy.
Standing so close to her now, feeling the heat from her body and breathing in the vanilla-and-spice scent of her skin, he wondered how the male population—himself included—could have been so deaf, blind and stupid. He had no doubt Debbie would taste sweet and yet— Suddenly he thought of the sheer temptation of her chocolate-raspberry cake. “I was thinking more along the lines of something rich, decadent, a little sinful even.”
Debbie’s eyes widened, huge and sparkling in the faint light streaming through the French doors. He’d gone too far, he thought. Pushed too hard for something he shouldn’t even let himself want. The smart thing, the logical thing to do was to walk away now while they still could. “Debbie—”
“Seriously, Drew, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
“Uh—” Before he had a chance to say anything else, she reached up, clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled his head toward hers. At the first touch of her lips, Drew was lost. Walk away? How could he when a single kiss had knocked him off his feet?
He’d been right about the sweetness, but had seriously underestimated just how rich, just how decadent she would taste, with just a hint of champagne and the piña colada wedding cake she’d made flavoring the kiss. The combination was addictive, but it was a taste uniquely her own. His tongue hungrily traced her full upper lip from corner to corner, spending an extra second at the enticing peak in the center. Diving deeper when she made a soft, indistinct sound that still managed to convey the intoxicating blend of demand and desire.
Drew might have smiled at the demand—Debbie had never been shy when it came to speaking her mind—but the desire overrode all else. He pulled her closer, her softness and curves melding against his body in a perfect fit. Blood pounded through his veins, and his hands tightened on her hips. The thin, slippery material of her dress hardly seemed like much of a barrier. With a few deft moves to push it out of the way—
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he froze at the sound of voices drifting over from the parking lot on the other side of the evergreen hedge. The night chill seeped in as Debbie broke the kiss and slipped from his arms.
“You sure about this? Your brother is going to kill you for messing with his ride.”
“I know. Great, isn’t it?”
“You know what they say about payback, and your wedding is less than two months away.”
Drew immediately recognized Sam’s voice along with his friend Billy Cummings’s. The three of them were supposed to decorate Nick’s truck. Even though the newlyweds were spending their first night together at the bed-and-breakfast, their vehicle would proudly announce their just-married status for the trip home. Sam had gathered the appropriate mix of tin cans and shaving cream along with some leashes and dog toys as an homage to Nick’s profession.
It wouldn’t be long before—
“So where is Drew anyway? Are we doing this without him?”
“No way! He has to be part of this so I can tell Nick it was all his idea.” The faint crunch of gravel followed Sam’s words. “You go get the stuff, and I’ll track him down.”
Nick might have been the veterinarian, but Sam could be like a dog with a bone. He wasn’t going to give up until he found Drew.
His looked over at Debbie, who’d already taken a few steps back. Her arms were once again crossed over her chest, but Drew didn’t think this time was because of the cold. “Debbie, I’m sorry. I— That was—”
The awkwardness of the moment grew in rhythm with the silence as he tried to put the kiss and the past few minutes into words. But she clearly had her own ideas about what had taken place. “Wedding fever,” she stated flatly. “But don’t worry. You’ll forget all about it by morning.”
Then she turned and went back into the reception, leaving him alone on the balcony.
Chapter Three (#ulink_7b22429c-0390-51e3-b1cc-db6fd9109e69)
Debbie took one look at the bold black letters on the whiteboard in front of The High Tide restaurant and immediately wanted to turn around and make the forty-minute drive back home from Redfield.
Singles’ Night—Meet and Greet!
Nerves somersaulted through her stomach, whirling fast enough to make her feel sick. This was what she got for opening her big mouth in front of her friends. Ever since making that silly claim about wanting someone to sweep her off her feet, Sophia and Kara had been bombarding her—in person and via phone calls and emails—with ways to meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome.
She’d escaped a three-way tag team only because Darcy was in Paris on her honeymoon with Nick. Though if her friend did come across any possibilities, Debbie wouldn’t be surprised to receive a message touting Monsieur Tall, Dark and Handsome.
Sophia had been the one to send her the info on the singles’ night. Debbie wondered what her friend would think of the sign—one she was sure normally listed the catch of the day. As if she could just order up the perfect guy to go.
Not that she was looking for the perfect guy. But she’d told Sophia she’d give it a try. She had nothing to lose, right?
Memories of the moonlit balcony swarmed her senses—the brush of Drew’s lips, the subtle hint of champagne, the murmur of her name spoken against her skin. Okay, maybe she’d caught him off guard, kissing him the way she had, but he’d done a heck of a job kissing her back. It had been enough to make Debbie think that maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d always thought. Then he’d deepened the kiss, and she’d stopped thinking at all....
Debbie slammed that mental door shut. As far as she was concerned, those were all reasons to go to the singles’ night. Drew had gotten caught up in the moment only to immediately regret it. She knew it by the what-the-hell-am-I-doing-kissing-her look in his dark gaze and the apology that had followed. And in his total absence over the past week. Not that they normally saw each other every day, but it was a small town. You couldn’t avoid running into someone unless you were avoiding running into someone.
Not that she expected him to seek her out, but that he hadn’t... Well, it only showed that she was right. Temporary insanity brought on by wedding fever and nothing more.
So, fine. She wasn’t interested in Drew anyway. She wanted adventure, excitement. She wanted to meet someone new, and she was going to check out the daily specials on offer tonight at The High Tide.
Breathing in a deep, hopeful breath, Debbie climbed from the car and headed toward the restaurant. Redfield also catered to the tourist crowd, and the restaurant had a quaint bait-and-tackle-shop vibe—weathered wood exterior, netting and fishing rods hanging below the sign.
The scent of fried seafood was enough to make her stomach grumble even as she mentally calculated the number of calories. And while she wasn’t positive her willpower would persevere, it was a sure bet that her fashion sense would win hands down.
The waistband on her floral skirt didn’t have nearly enough give for her to even think about fish and chips. She’d be lucky to squeeze in a salad, but the fitted skirt was the perfect match for her favorite pale pink cashmere sweater. The purchase had been a splurge even on sale, but the savvy saleswoman had told her she looked like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield in the figure-hugging, sinfully soft top, and Debbie had been sold.
You can do this. Sophia’s voice echoed in her mind. Just think, tonight you might meet your own Prince Charming!
Debbie hadn’t tried to explain, again, that she wasn’t interested in some love of a lifetime. A relationship would only be another commitment when most days she already felt stretched too thin. Another responsibility when she already longed for more freedom. Another potential for loss when fate had already stolen so much....
But she couldn’t expect Sophia, still basking in the glow of her own happily ever after, to understand that. So she’d agreed that yes, tonight might be the night.
As she stepped inside the restaurant, Debbie wondered if she hadn’t underestimated the possibilities. She’d feared everyone who would go to such lengths to meet someone—herself included—would reek of desperation. But the good-looking guy standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the reserved section of the bar met her gaze with a friendly and confident smile. He shifted the clipboard he was casually holding and held out his right hand.
“Welcome to The High Tide. Are you here for the meet and greet?” His green eyes sparkled beneath shaggy blond hair, and deep dimples bracketed his smile.
Definitely cute, and while the touch of his hand against hers didn’t set off any fireworks, his grip was strong and warm. Maybe tonight could be the beginning of something after all.
“I am,” she agreed, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.
After taking her name and email to keep her up to date with future events, he said, “Here’s a badge. We’d like you to write your name and an interesting or fun fact about yourself on it.”
Debbie reached out but her gaze locked on his hand. His left hand and the shiny gold band on the fourth finger. “You’re married?” she blurted out, the words escaping before she had time to call them back.
He glanced down at his wedding ring and flushed slightly. “Oh, yeah. I’m, um, not part of the singles’ group,” he explained. “I manage the restaurant and like to be here to make sure everything runs smoothly when we have events like this. Sorry if I—”
She waved his words aside. “No need to apologize.” After all, it wasn’t like he’d kissed her or anything. Withholding a sigh, she asked, “I don’t suppose you and your wife met at one of these events, did you?”
His eyes lit in memory. “No, we met while backpacking along the California coastline. We were supposed to travel all the way up to Canada and at the end of the trip go our separate ways. But we realized we’d fallen in love and decided to stay together. Just goes to show that you can find love anywhere along the way. Good luck tonight.”
Backpacking across the country. Now, that was a fun and interesting fact, Debbie thought as she filled out her name badge. She got the first part done okay, but then came to a complete halt. The whole point of going to an event like this was to break out of a rut. She’d lived in the same town, in the same apartment, worked the same job and had known the same people her whole life. If her world was filled with fun and interesting facts, she doubted she’d be at a singles’ event. No, she’d be backpacking along the coast or jetting off to Paris....
Sighing, she glanced over to the other side of the bar. She’d be sitting across the table from a good-looking guy who looked a lot like— Who looked exactly like— Oh, good grief, it was Drew Pirelli!
Sitting in a secluded booth, Drew and a beautiful brunette were engaged in an intense conversation, their heads bent so close together the table between them almost disappeared. As she watched, he reached over and stroked the woman’s arm, and a layer of goose bumps rose along her own skin....
Abruptly turning away, Debbie nearly crumpled the name tag in her hand. She had to leave now before he saw her and— And what exactly? Who cared if he saw her out tonight?
She wasn’t going to sit at home, waiting for Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. She was taking charge and going after what she wanted. She wanted to go out, to escape the pressure of duty and responsibility for once in her life. She wanted some fun and interesting facts to write down on her stupid name badge!
Picking up the pen, she printed a few words beneath her name, capping them off with an exclamation point before slapping the sticky tag to the front of her sweater. Now, time to actually meet a single guy at this singles’ event.
Within minutes, she’d done just that. Gary Tronston was in his early thirties by her guess. He had blond hair and wore wire-framed glasses. He was a dentist, and while Debbie wasn’t sure how interesting that fact was, he had added on his name tag that he was a dentist with a sweet tooth, which at least showed an attempt at a sense of humor.
But talking to him, Debbie couldn’t help feeling he’d somehow slipped her a shot of Novocain.
“I like helping people. Seeing them smile,” he added with a smile of his own. “It’s not saving the world, but I like to think I’ve made a difference.”
“That’s great, Gary. Really.”
Debbie might not have always been the best judge of men, but he seemed like a nice guy. If only she felt even the slightest spark...
She didn’t, though, and it was all Drew’s fault. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep from glancing over poor Gary’s shoulder at Drew on the other side of the bar.
His dark hair gleamed even in the bar’s muted lighting, and the red T-shirt he wore, the long sleeves pushed back to reveal his tanned, muscular arms, was the perfect contrast. His eyebrows were pulled together in a frown, and though she was too far away, she knew just how rich and warm his eyes were. After a moment, his features relaxed, the lines around his eyes crinkling slightly as he flashed his perfect white teeth in a smile at his date. Debbie tore her gaze away, but it was too late. He looked so vibrant, so virile, that Gary with his blond hair and somewhat pasty skin seemed ready to simply fade away.
Not that Gary was to blame. When she and Drew had kissed, the whole world had faded away. How was the poor guy supposed to compete with that?
“Would you like a drink?” he asked before waving their waitress over and requesting a wine list as if they were at a five-star establishment instead of a casual, family-friendly restaurant. She tried to ignore that it made him seem more than a little pretentious. But once she spotted that chink in his armor, she couldn’t help noticing a few more less than attractive details. Like when he mentioned for the third time that he drove a Mercedes. And that he’d graduated with honors. And that he was working with a group of investors to build an exclusive resort in the area.
Debbie supposed it would have been hard to fit all that on a name tag.
Suppressing a sigh, she smiled as the waitress returned with their drinks and took a sip of the white wine Gary had ordered for both of them. She fought to keep her attention on the man in front of her instead of on the one across the bar. But that focus only brought more details to light. Like...wasn’t Gary’s blond hair combed a little too neatly? His clothes too perfectly pressed? And she’d bet the bakery that the shine on his nails came from a manicure.
Good hygiene was one thing, but that was just...weird, she decided, reaching for her wineglass again. Drew would never—
Debbie tried to stop the hopeless comparison, but suddenly the floodgates were open. There was nothing overstated about Drew, nothing that said he was trying too hard or that he was too hung up on his own good looks. Just a quiet confidence and yes, he was gorgeous enough for Debbie to be hung up on his looks. Of course, he was more than a pretty face and a drool-worthy bod.
He was...Drew.
The boy who’d stood up for her when some of the other kids in school had teased her about her weight and the outrageous desserts her mother always packed in her lunch. Of course, he’d been thirteen at the time and helped her in typical boy fashion—by stealing huge bites out of her cupcake or éclair or torte when Debbie wasn’t watching and then flashing her a cocky grin. In typical girl fashion, Debbie had protested, calling him names and probably sticking her tongue out a time or two, even as warmth bloomed inside her.
At nine years old, she’d known he was saving her from pigging out in front of the rest of the class or from hurting Bonnie’s feelings by refusing to take those desserts to school or, heaven forbid, throwing out the food her talented mother made with such love.
And then there was the day of her mother’s funeral. Just about everyone in town had stopped by to tell her how much her mother would be missed and how they would be there for Debbie if she needed anything.
She’d smiled through it all, reminiscing about her mother, talking about how much she loved to bake and to share her gift of sweets with the town. Only later did Debbie break down in the back of the bakery, crying over a batch of éclairs that she had never, ever been able to make as well as Bonnie, as it hit her that she would never taste her mother’s baking again. It was then, after everyone else was gone and she was alone, that Drew knocked on the bakery’s back door. He hadn’t said much, simply holding her as she cried and then helped her to clean up the mess she’d made of the kitchen.
He’d told her everything would be okay, and though countless others had offered that same platitude, wrapped in Drew’s arms, breathing in the familiar scent of his aftershave and listening to the quiet confidence in his deep voice, she’d believed him. And she’d held on to that belief deep in her heart, pulling it out when life got rough and she’d had her doubts about running the business on her own or during the holidays when at times she felt so alone. And somehow she knew everything would be all right. Because Drew had told her so, and he would never go back on his word.
This time, she couldn’t keep her glance from straying over toward his booth. Her heart slammed against her rib cage when his dark-eyed gaze snared hers. His date had disappeared, and he was looking back at her without a hint of surprise. A wash of heat crept up her face. How long had he been watching her while she’d been trying so hard not to watch him? And was he really going to sit there the rest of the night, studying her as she pretended to have a good time? Because, yes, by now she was past the point of convincing herself she actually was having a good time.
She reached for her glass, surprised to find it almost empty, but thankfully the waitress quickly stopped by with reinforcements. She started when Gary reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m so glad you came to this event. It’s hard to meet the right person, isn’t it?”
The right person? Oh, good Lord, she really hoped he wasn’t talking about her! “Um, yeah. Look, Gary—”
“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were the one.”
Debbie swallowed. “Gary, that’s so...sweet of you to say. But the thing is...” Oh, jeez. She hated doing this. She’d been on the other side of the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech too many times not to feel badly about delivering it. “I’m not really looking for anything serious. I just want to meet some new people, to go out and have a good time.”
His sincere expression quickly morphed into one that was far more interested. “Well, in that case, why don’t we get out of here? I’ve booked a room in a hotel just down the street where we can really have some fun.”
“Whoa, there, Gar! I think you still have the wrong idea about me. But, you know, good luck with all that!”
Grabbing her glass, Debbie downed half the wine in a single gulp as she made her escape.
Speaking of which... Yep, Drew was still in the corner booth. Still watching...which meant as much as tonight was starting to look like a bust, she couldn’t go home yet. She didn’t want to give Drew the satisfaction of thinking that he’d run her off or worse, that he was right and that she should be spending her nights at home alone like a good girl.
She was going to have fun tonight, she thought grimly, even if it killed her.
* * *
She was killing him.
Drew’s hand tightened around the soda he’d been downing all night. He hadn’t come to the bar to drink, though that was the invitation he’d issued to Cassidy Carter. It had been strictly business, and he didn’t drink on the job. Of course, Cass had left over an hour ago, and he still hadn’t switched to anything harder than pure sugar and caffeine. He was a little afraid of what he might do if even so much as a beer went to his head. Hell, the rate the night was going, he should probably switch to diet and caffeine-free.
Every time Debbie laughed, every time she touched another guy—even if it was just to shake hands—every time she leaned closer to hear what one of them said, every damn time the guy’s gaze dropped to the rounded curves on display beneath a sweater that looked like it was made out of cotton candy, Drew had to fight to keep his butt in the booth.
He’d always considered himself a patient man, but he was quickly running out. Still, he kept waiting. Waiting for Debbie to realize none of these losers were good enough for her. He could see it at first glance. What was taking her so damn long?
He’d thought overhearing Debbie at Darcy’s bachelorette party was bad. But that had only been words, and he’d done his best to convince himself it was just talk. That she wasn’t serious about wanting some stranger to sweep her off her feet. Clearly, he was wrong. Not only had Debbie meant every word, she was backing them up with actions.
And it was killing him.
Drew didn’t want to look too closely at the reasons why. Debbie was an old family friend, and he was worried about her. That was reason enough, right? He didn’t want to think that he was jealous or that he wanted to be one of the men standing close enough to her to know if that sweater could possibly feel as soft as it looked. He certainly didn’t want to think about any of those men kissing her the way he had on the balcony last weekend because he shouldn’t have been the one kissing her, either. Tonight only drove that home more than ever. How could he be the one to protect her if he had to worry about protecting her from himself?
But when the waitress brought Debbie yet another glass of wine and when the introduction handshakes turned into nice-to-meet-you hugs, he couldn’t stand by any longer.
He was saving her from herself. When she came to her senses and forgot all about this whole adventure and excitement streak she was on, she’d realize that, too. She’d probably even thank him for it.
A burst of mocking laughter that sounded just like his brothers’ echoed in his head.
Yeah, sure she would.
* * *
Debbie wasn’t sure how long she’d been talking to the brown-haired guy standing in front of her before she realized she no longer held his full attention. His gaze kept flicking toward a point over her shoulder. She might have feared she was too boring to hold his interest, but boredom didn’t put a look of fear in a guy’s eyes.
“I think I should, um...” He was already backing away before he blurted out, “Nice meeting you, Debbie.”
She didn’t have to turn around to around to know Drew was behind her. “What are you doing, Drew?” she asked as she drained the last of her wine and motioned to the waitress for another glass.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I am here for singles’ night.” She turned to face him, feeling herself wobble slightly in her new shoes. She should have gone with the boots instead of the heels, but the pumps had the cutest bow on the toe.... “And you should be with your date.”
A frown pulled his dark brows together. “I’m not on a date.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine the brunette you were with earlier.”
“That wasn’t a date. She’s a coworker on a custom house I’m building in the area.”
“You always hold hands with your coworkers? I bet your subcontractors love that.”
“We weren’t holding hands. Cassidy was upset and I was trying to reassure her. The client we’re working for is a real nightmare, and Cass is ready to quit. None of which explains what you’re doing here.”
“I told you. It’s singles’ night, and I’m single,” she said, crossing her arms and meeting his scowl with a smirk.
He mimicked her actions, minus the smirk, folding his muscular arms over his broad chest, as he replied, “Well, so am I.”
“You’re not signed up for this event,” she protested.
Glancing over at a nearby high-top table, he spotted the clipboard and a few leftover name tags. Within seconds, he’d scrawled his name across the sign-in sheet and slapped a tag to his broad chest. His name in bold, block letters with the word contractor written beneath. “It’s not supposed to be a business card, Drew,” she said as she reached out and poked him right in the name tag.
He caught her hand and held it for a moment as his gaze dropped to her chest. Or at least to the name badge on her sweater. “Obviously.”
Debbie blinked, for a second having forgotten what she’d written on her own tag. “Oh, yeah. That.”
Hungry for the taste of adventure....
It had sounded like something fun to write down at the time, so why did she suddenly feel embarrassed, like a teenager caught by her mother making out with a boy on the front porch? She didn’t know. She couldn’t even be sure how a moment like that would have felt. She’d never dated as a teenager. She’d never had the opportunity to do so many things.
And that was why she was willing to take a chance on this singles’ group. Okay, so tonight had been a bit of a disappointment. There were other events planned. This night was only the beginning. She smiled her thanks and handed the waitress some cash in exchange for another glass of wine.
Lifting her chin, she met Drew’s gaze head on. “You’re not my big brother, Drew. I don’t need you to rescue me.”
A flash of guilt flickered across his expression, and Debbie realized she’d nailed it. He really did think of her like a little sister, someone to look out for, someone to protect. She took a swallow of wine to wash away the ache in her throat. So much for thinking he might have been jealous. So much for the foolish hope that he’d approached her because he wanted to be the guy she was talking to instead of the half a dozen or so men whose names she’d already forgotten.
Catching her by the wrist, he took the wineglass from her hand and set it aside. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“You’ve got that right,” she muttered. She’d certainly had enough of him!
Pushing past him, she headed for the exit. The cool, quiet night air brushed her heated cheeks, a welcome relief from the noisy, crowded restaurant. Her heels crunched unevenly across the asphalt, but she didn’t get far before he caught up with her again.
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I didn’t have that much to drink.”
“You had four glasses of wine.”
“You were counting?” Debbie snorted, only to realize maybe that was a good thing since she seemed to have stopped keeping track after two. No wonder the asphalt was rocking beneath her feet, and the stars were shooting like a pretty kaleidoscope overhead....
“Let me take you home.”
Oh, why did Drew’s murmured words have to sound so much better than any of the invitations she’d heard from potential dates that evening? Not that he meant anything by it. Just like he hadn’t meant anything by the kiss they’d shared. “You can’t fool me.”
He was playing the role of the white knight—offering rides home and apologizing for kisses when he should have been kissing her again.
“What?”
“What, what?” She hadn’t said anything. Oh, crap, what had she said?
Frowning, Drew asked, “How is asking to give you a ride home trying to fool you?”
Relieved she hadn’t spilled anything too embarrassing, yet still annoyed, she snapped, “You didn’t offer to drive me home. You asked to take me home. As in, ‘Let’s go back to your place.’ You think I don’t know a come-on when I hear one, Drew Pirelli?”
Just like she knew very well when she hadn’t heard one, but she found herself entirely unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.
“That’s not— I didn’t—” A pained expression crossed his face, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Blowing out a breath, he started again, “Debbie, I—”
Feeling another apology coming on, she threw up a dismissing hand and started walking. Not that she would risk driving home, but she had a coat in her car and if she had to wait who knew how long for a cab, she’d rather not have to stand around shivering.
But she only made it a few steps before the ground slipped out from beneath her feet. And not because she’d fallen. Her startled gasp ended in a mousy squeak as Drew swept her up into his arms. The stars spun wildly overhead, and without thought she clung to his shoulders. Their gazes collided for a heat-filled second before his mouth crashed down on hers in a stunning kiss.
If that night on the balcony had been wedding fever, this was a different level of heat altogether. The kiss tasted of frustration and passion, a fight-fire-with-fire kind of burn that promised so much more—
The earth may well have moved, but Debbie didn’t realize Drew had until he plopped her into the passenger seat of his car. His breathing still ragged from the kiss, he repeated, “You’re not driving home.”
Despite the way the world was still tilting around her, every ounce of independent woman roared inside her. Realizing her hands were still fisted in his shirt, she pushed him away. “I cannot believe you just did that!”
Drew’s jaw tightened as he leaned closer, until she could catch a hint of his aftershave mixed with the woodsy night air. “Believe it.”
The vehicle’s dome light wasn’t very bright, but in its faint glow, she saw something in his hardened expression. Something that made her pulse pound even harder. Something that made her wonder if she was seeing Drew in a different light...or if something had changed in the way he was seeing her.
And she had the feeling that as surprised as she was by his actions, he’d surprised himself even more.
Chapter Four (#ulink_d0501ace-77c8-541f-9e85-1c14d6abf729)
I cannot believe you just did that!
Debbie’s outraged words rang in his head on the silent drive back home. Drew couldn’t believe it himself. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he glanced over at Debbie. She was looking out the side window, giving him little more than a view of the back of her head, but he could imagine the fire in her blue eyes. She had every right to be pissed and to give him the cold shoulder, but her silence at least allowed him the time to get his emotions back under control.
Damn if he couldn’t hear Angie laughing at him now.
His former girlfriend had accused him more than once of not having emotions. If I walk out this door right now, you won’t even try to stop me, will you? she’d demanded during the fight that led to their breakup. Truth was, he had tried to stop her. He’d talked about how good they were together, how much they had in common. He brought up the time they’d both invested in the relationship and asked if she really wanted to throw that away.
But even as the words were coming out of his mouth—logical, sensible words—he’d known it wasn’t enough. Whatever Angie wanted, he didn’t have it within himself to give it to her. And that was the reason why he hadn’t stopped her when she did finally walk out that door.
Never once had it occurred to him to physically pick Angie up and kiss her to try to convince her to stay. Watching Debbie walk away...that instinct had been undeniable.
And it didn’t make sense! Debbie wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend. And while he wouldn’t have let her drive home even if he hadn’t known her her entire life, he could have stopped her another way. Hell, all he’d had to do was take her purse and the keys inside. Simple, easy, logical. And yet that solution had never occurred to him.
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Stacy Connelly
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: CHECKLIST FOR THE PERFECT PRINCE CHARMING:• Tall, dark and handsome• Passionate• Thoroughly devoted• Capable of spontaneity• Someone who is not Drew Pirelli!After years of putting other people first, Debbie Mattson is ready to look for her own happily-ever-after. Clearville’s favourite baker is determined to leave her small home town and find her perfect man – someplace far away. The last person she would ever consider dating is her childhood friend Drew Pirelli. He’s a homebody, loves small-town life and is ready to settle down. She’s convinced he is Mr Wrong. And then one magical kiss changes everything…