Stacy Connelly – Small-Town Cinderella (страница 5)

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—