Small-Town Cinderella (The Pirelli Brothers) (9 page)

Drew’s gut tightened at the wistful smile tilting her lips. Was she wishing she’d met someone tonight? That some new, not-Clearville guy was walking her to her car, getting her number and making plans to see her again?

She noticed him watching her and glanced away, her expression somewhat guilty. Was she embarrassed that he’d caught her daydreaming about the kind of guy she had yet to find?

Debbie had complained that the guys in town only saw her as a little sister. Could it be that she only saw him in that same platonic light? Every masculine muscle in his body tensed at the idea. Yes, she’d returned his kiss tonight and at the wedding, but both times he’d caught her off guard, ambushing her even. He knew he was the exact opposite of everything she said she wanted—but could he change her mind?

“Do you ever wonder,” she began, only to send her blond hair tumbling back over her shoulders as she shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Wonder what?” he pressed.

“Do you ever wonder what might have happened if we’d met on a night like tonight? If we hadn’t practically grown up together but instead were brought together by singles’ night like Marcy and Kurt. Two strangers whose eyes meet across a crowded bar.” Debbie laughed at the cliché, but the question lingered in her expression.

Strangers meeting in a bar... That was the fantasy she’d described during Darcy’s bachelorette party. On that night, he wasn’t supposed to have heard her wish, but tonight— Drew’s heartbeat quickened. Did he dare see her words as encouragement, that she was putting
him
in the role? Taking a chance, he said, “I don’t have to wonder.”

“You don’t?”

“I know what would have happened.”

“You do?” Debbie made a face as if acknowledging the way she’d taken to echoing everything he was saying.

“First I would tell you how amazing you were on stage tonight and what a great voice you have.”

Her lips twitched a smile she gave him a sideways glance. “You already did that.”

“Good. That means I’m right on track.”

“And what comes next?”

“Well, I’d offer to walk you to your car, of course,” he said just as they reached her lime-green VW Bug.

“Very chivalrous of you.”

He made a soft sound of agreement. “See, if you knew me better and if I wasn’t a total stranger, you’d realize that I am very much a gentleman.”

Her smile glowed even brighter as he played along with the game of pretend she’d established. “And once we reached my car...” She placed a hand on the shiny hood as she turned to face him. “What would you do then? Would you ask for my phone number? Would you kiss me good-night?”

Drew stepped close and then closer until he could feel the heat from Debbie’s body calling out to his. “Oh, yeah,” he answered, his voice dropping an octave as his gaze fell to her lips, parted and waiting beneath his. “I would definitely want to see you again. And only an idiot wouldn’t kiss you if he had the chance.”

Her eyes widened at his reference to the weekend before when he hadn’t kissed her and had turned away instead. But that was then and this was now. Tonight Debbie hadn’t had anything stronger to drink than iced tea. And after tonight, he better understood what was motivating her to go down this path.

This wasn’t some whim that had struck Debbie during the bachelorette party, even if that was when she’d first given voice to her longing for something more. This was important to her, and for reasons Drew couldn’t completely understand, it was important to him to help her fulfill that wish. He didn’t bother trying to fool himself into believing he was simply trying to look out for her, and though that protective instinct was still on guard inside him, somehow the feeling had changed...grown.

Keeping Debbie safe wasn’t as important as making her happy.

Drew’s conscience gave a snort of laughter. All the logic and reasoning he came up with might help justify his actions and keep him from feeling too guilty about coming on to a woman he’d always treated like family, but logic and reason carried little weight against one simple fact.

He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to draw his next breath.

But despite her bold and flirty words, the moonlight touched on the hesitation in her expression, and Drew could have kicked himself for the way he’d rejected her before. He’d had his reasons, good ones he’d thought, but he’d hurt her, and that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

Settling his hands on her shoulders, he bent his head and put his whole heart in making this kiss everything their first should have been. A slow study as he experienced the warmth and sweetness of her mouth. A learning curve as he discovered the shape of her lips with his own and sought to determine what she liked—but then slow and sweet seemed to slip from his fingers along with his control, and he found himself wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

They were both breathless by the time he stepped back. He might have felt a sense of masculine satisfaction at the unfocused look in her eyes if he wasn’t having so much trouble seeing straight himself. Blinking, she lifted a hand to touch her lips. “That, um, that was some first kiss.”

He tried to answer, barely managing a grunt in response.

Still partially hidden by her fingers, Debbie’s mouth curved into a smile. A confident smile, one that erased any sign of the vulnerability he’d sensed in her earlier. The sight was almost enough to make Drew overlook that she’d recovered faster than he had from that mind-blowing kiss. Who exactly, he wondered, was seducing whom?

“You know, if we had met tonight for the first time, I think I just might give you my number.”

“Might?” he bit out in a disbelieving laugh. “You
might
give it to me?”

“Yep,” she answered with a saucy wink as she opened her car door and slid behind the wheel.

Reaching out, Drew caught the edge of the door and leaned down until they were face-to-face. “And what if I gave you mine?”

Her husky laughter hit like a sucker punch to his gut. “Oh, I think we both know I’ve already got that.”

Chapter Seven

T
he knock at the bakery’s back door was the answer to her prayer, and Debbie let the soaking-wet mop fall into a pile of soggy towels as she rushed across the kitchen. “Thank goodness you’re here!”

Drew greeted her with a cocky grin, one hand braced against the jamb, the other carrying a toolbox. “You know, when you said you had my number, I didn’t really think you’d be using it so soon.”

Her face heating, she tried to act cool and knew she was failing miserably as he stepped inside the disaster that was now her kitchen. “Trust me, neither did I.”

At least not like this. She’d had a nightmare of an afternoon and Drew—Drew looked like every red-blooded woman’s fantasy man come true. He could have stepped right out from a “Men at Work” calendar. A leather tool belt hung low on his lean, denim-clad hips and a faded green henley T-shirt embraced his broad shoulders and flat abs. But Drew was the real deal, and the scarred belt and work-worn boots were more than simple props.

So unfair, when she was almost as big of a mess as her bakery kitchen.

“I just went to adjust the sprayer on the faucet,” she said, waving at the double-bowl industrial sink, “and the whole thing came off in my hand and water started shooting out all over the place! I tried the shutoff valve but it was too tight to move, and by the time I’d grabbed a wrench, water was everywhere, and it was all I could do to move the flour and sugar out of the way to keep it from getting ruined.”

The fifty-pound bags were hard enough to lift under the best of conditions. Hauling them out from the pantry during a sudden flood had left Debbie a tired, sweaty,
soggy
mess. Her first thought that didn’t involve a dozen or so swear words had been to call Drew.

Only now that he was here, she wished she’d called someone—anyone—else. She wanted him to see her as the woman she’d been the other night. Confident, bold, sensual. Instead she felt like reality had once again come crashing down on her dreams, reminding her that this—the bakery, life in Clearville and her role as Drew’s kid sister’s friend—was all there’d ever be.

“You didn’t have to come over. I thought you’d just recommend someone,” she said finally. “I’m sure you have bigger projects to bother checking on my faulty plumbing.”

“No job is too small, and I still like getting my hands dirty.”

Okay, that should not have sounded so sexy, but feeling like she did, she couldn’t come up with a witty comeback. His teasing grin faded at her silence, and Drew set the toolbox down before stepping closer. He cupped her face in his hands, and it was all Debbie could do not to duck away from his searching gaze.

She didn’t want him seeing her looking like this. Didn’t want to watch the realization
she’d
just had steal across his features. And his expression did change—but not into one of pity or regret. A warmth and caring filled his dark eyes, so strong she could feel it in the brush of his thumbs against her cheeks, in the massaging fingers that tunneled into her hair.

“And I didn’t want to send someone else. I wanted to be here. To be the one to play the white knight and ride in to save the day.”

Debbie managed a smile as he turned the words she used the night of the meet and greet against her. “Sorry, Drew, but I’m not exactly feeling like a fairy-tale princess right now.”

“And I can’t think of a better moment to come to your rescue.”

She knew she was a total mess, and yet the look in his eyes— He’d looked at her the same way the night before—when she’d spent an hour on her hair and makeup. Desire and awareness swirled through his eyes....

This time she did duck away, too afraid Drew would see the tears in her eyes at his murmured words. But that only made it easier for him to pull her into his arms and tuck her head beneath his chin. She felt the brush of his lips against her hair, but the sweetness of the kiss only made her feel cherished. She didn’t know how long he held her. All she knew was that she could have stayed in his arms forever.

“So are you going to let me help you clean up this place? Please?”

“Well, since you did say please,” she said with a watery laugh. She pulled out of his embrace, blinking back tears, and glanced around at the mess in the kitchen that suddenly didn’t seem so bad. With Drew working by her side, they had the wet towels spinning in the washer and the last of the water mopped up from the floor within minutes.

“How badly do you need water right now? Are you right in the middle of anything?”

“No, actually. I was just cleaning up when the faucet broke.” She waved a hand at the covered bowls of batter waiting to be poured into muffin tins and baked. “Those are all ready to go.”

“Uh-oh.” Drew warily eyed the orange batter. “Those aren’t the same cupcakes from the other day, are they?”

“No. I told you those weren’t ready yet.”

Before the broken faucet and minor flood, she’d been elbow deep in fixing the recipe she’d tried out the other day. With the disaster averted and her breakdown under control, anticipation surged through her as she thought of the cupcakes waiting to be baked. Waiting to be tasted. Her pulse picked up its pace as she anticipated Drew’s reaction.

Building on the base foundation of the recipe, she’d taken it in a half a dozen different directions. She couldn’t wait for him to sample them all, couldn’t wait to see his expression as she teased his taste buds with minicupcakes that were little more than a bite and guaranteed to leave him wanting more....

“Okay, then. I’ll replace the faucet while you throw those cupcakes in the oven, and when they’re done...”

“I’ll let you try them,” she promised even as she wondered at the excitement brewing inside her. Was this the spark, then, that had been missing from the bakery these past few years? Simply having someone to share it with?

Debbie wished the answer could be so simple. But she and Kayla had sampled plenty of recipes, new ones and old favorites as she taught her young apprentice, and it hadn’t been enough to light this kind of fire in her oven. The idea that only Drew could stoke the flames of passion in her was too troubling to contemplate, so she shoved the thought aside.

“But I want you to tell me the truth. These are still new recipes, and if you don’t like them, I want you to say so. I would never expect you to love everything I make. And I’d much rather you tell me the truth than convince me those cupcakes were wonderful when they’re not.”

“Really?”

“Really. If you’re honest about what you don’t like, then I know I can trust you when you say you do like something. It might sound funny, but that means a lot to me, Drew.”

She’d been on her own for so long she’d learned to trust her own judgment, but would it really be so bad to have someone else to count on? Not all the time, but just every now and then?

Drew broke her gaze, and Debbie wondered if she’d embarrassed him with her praise. “Debbie, I—” Cutting himself off, he shook his head. “I’m gonna go grab a faucet. I’ll have the old one replaced in no time.”

“Okay, you go do your job while I do mine.”

“I should warn you, I tend to work up an appetite doing hard, manly labor like this.”

Debbie grinned. “I’m counting on it.”

* * *

I know I can trust you... That means a lot to me, Drew.

After making a run to the hardware store, Drew returned to the bakery and tried staying focused on the job. But the hardest part was maneuvering his large frame into the cramped space beneath the sink. The work itself wasn’t nearly challenging enough to keep his mind off Debbie—or to keep the guilt from burning away inside him.

The trust shining in her eyes as she gazed up at him hit hard. Not that he was lying to her, exactly. He was just— Drew swore as the wrench slipped off the bolt and his knuckles scraped against the plaster wall. Who was he trying to kid? He was lying to her. By omission, but lying all the same.

He should have come clean by now about overhearing her the night of the bachelorette party. He
would
tell her, before they took things any further, or the guilt would eat him alive. But he had to find the right moment when she’d be open to listening to his explanation and not jump to the conclusion that he’d manipulated the situation. That he’d used her own words against her or—even worse—used her.

A mouthwatering, fresh-from-the-oven smell—a hint of spice and sweetness that reminded him of Debbie’s own scent—filled the kitchen. She’d finished baking the cupcakes while he was at the store and had stuck them in the freezer to cool quickly while she made the frosting.

“These are just about ready,” she said as she drizzled something across the top of the cupcakes. “Are you at a stopping point?”

“Nope. I’m all finished.” He turned on the new faucet with a flick of the handle.

“Oh, perfect timing!”

She flashed a smile at him, and Drew had the thought that his timing wasn’t the only thing that was perfect—
she
was. He knew she hated the girl-next-door image, but there was a sweetness and friendliness about her that couldn’t be denied. And for too long, that was all he had seen. But beyond the blond hair, blue eyes and bubbly laughter, Debbie was tough. Resilient, a fighter who’d battled through life’s hardships and hidden so much of what she was feeling behind a smile. Maybe too much. She was right when she said she could take care of herself, but he wanted to be the one to take care of
her
.

“Come on. I can’t wait for you to taste this.”

His gaze automatically dropped to her lips, and he swallowed. Hard. “Yeah, um, give me a second to clean up.” He washed his hands quickly, wincing slightly at the sting of water and soap against his scraped knuckles. Less than he deserved, his conscience berated him, for not
truly
coming clean.

But one look in her sparking blue eyes and his plan to tell the truth stalled. The words got caught behind the lump in his throat as he realized how much
he
wanted to be the one to put that spark in her eyes. The one to keep her on her toes when he wasn’t sweeping her off her feet—and no short-term fling was going to do.

“Drew? Are you okay?” Debbie asked.

A frown knit her eyebrows together, and he realized he’d been standing motionless even as the earth shifted beneath his feet. “I, um, yeah. I was just—making sure the faucet’s running right.” Reaching out, he shut off the tap. “You should probably have all the plumbing checked out.” Logic may have deserted him, but at least he still had the job to fall back on. “The wiring, too. You know how old these buildings are.”

“As long as the faucet’s no longer acting like a fountain, everything’s good. Rattling pipes and flickering lights are all part of the turn-of-the-century charm. Now come on! I can’t wait for you to try this new recipe.”

Still stunned by his realization, when Debbie reached out and grabbed his hand she could have led him straight into traffic and he wouldn’t have put up a fight. Thankfully, she simply led him to the counter where she had arranged several different plates. Each one showed off a minicupcake with carefully piped frosting swirled over the top. He’d seen her do something similar before—when she’d offered Nick and Darcy a taste test for their wedding cake.

The ground shifted beneath his feet again even though the plates held cupcakes and not slices of wedding cake. Bracing a hand against the stainless-steel counter, he sucked in a deep breath and prayed the world would quickly right itself once more. Fortunately, Debbie seemed completely unaware of the earthshaking, life-altering moments as she reached for the first plate.

“Now, the batters for all of these are mostly the same, but each one has some slight differences. I already know which one is my favorite, but I want to see what you think. And remember, be completely honest.”

At first, Drew wasn’t sure he’d be able to swallow a single bite, but that wasn’t giving Debbie nearly enough credit. With the first taste, he knew the tiny dessert would never be enough. Unlike the cupcake he’d tasted the other day, which had been heavy and dense, this one was light and moist with flavors that perfectly captured the rich flavors of an autumn day. The pumpkin-spice cupcake was filled with bits of walnut and dried fruit and topped with butterscotch icing so good that he wanted to lick the last crumb from the plate.

“That’s it. That has to be your favorite.”

Debbie shook a teasing finger at him. “No fair choosing until you’ve tasted them all.”

“I don’t know what you did with the recipe, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s perfect now.”

“Hard to tell they’re somewhat healthy, too, isn’t it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. I’ve been experimenting with an entire line of health-conscious desserts for my online menu. Did you know in some of the bigger cities, there are bakeries that sell cakes that are one-hundred-percent gluten-free? They use rice flour for people with allergies that make eating the typical desserts impossible. Some places have gone organic, too, or even vegan, using applesauce in cakes rather than eggs.”

“So why are you only offering those desserts online?”

“Oh, come on, Drew. You know what it’s like around here. No one wants to see Bonnie’s Bakery change.”

Bonnie’s Bakery.
It was odd after years of knowing one another to realize there were things about Debbie he didn’t know. Things he’d never thought to ask—like why she’d kept the name of the bakery. “Is it Clearville that doesn’t want the bakery to change,” he asked gently, “or is it you?”

“What do you mean?” Wariness and a flash of something buried deeper rippled beneath the surface of her expression.

In anyone else, Drew would have labeled the expression fear, but he’d never known Debbie to be afraid of anything. Wasn’t protecting her from charging off into adventure and excitement what started him down this road?

“The front of the bakery, the uniform...” Reaching out, he tugged on the collar, and then couldn’t resist brushing his thumb against her jaw. Her cheeks heated until the color almost matched the pink of the shirt. Her soft-as-silk skin made him forget why he’d reached out in the first place. Made him forget everything but the urge to cup her face in his hands and bring her mouth to his. To have a taste test of his own and determine once and for all what was most irresistible—the flavor of her parted lips, the delicate curve behind her jaw, the hidden valley between her breasts...