Small-Town Cinderella

“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

“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—”