Awakening Beauty

“The U.S. postal system is fine, Mr. McKay. It works for most people.”

Half out the door, Tyler grinned back at her. “I’m not most people, Miss Douglas.”

He shut the door and trotted down the steps, hailing a cab and leaving behind his wrecked car.

And Lane felt as if she’d just been warned. This wasn’t the end for Tyler McKay. And that, for her, was dangerous.

Two

Tyler leaned against the kitchen counter in his parents’ house and bit into a sandwich. Since the accident hadn’t left him bleeding on the side of the road, his mom allowed him to snitch it from her kitchen.

Good thing, because his own fridge didn’t have anything in it that wasn’t growing fuzz. He really should remember to shop and then actually stay home long enough to eat it.

“I can’t believe that you haven’t been in that bookstore before today.” His mother poured herself some hot tea.

“Have you?”

“Once, with Diana.”

His mother and her friend Diana Ashbury had known each other since they were in high school and were as close now as they’d been then. Tyler had grown up with Diana’s children and her son, Jace, was a good friend of his.

“So…what did you think of the owner. Diana shops there all the time. She adores Miss Douglas.”

“Adores?” Tyler almost choked on a sip of soda. He couldn’t imagine anyone adoring the Lane he knew. The woman was witty, yes, but she was very cool. And she had eyes that said, “Don’t even think about it,” and that just made him want to think about it.

“Oh, yes, Di says she can find any book and doesn’t charge extra for getting it.”

That was good business sense and Tyler appreciated that. Too bad Lane didn’t spend more effort on charm. Then again, maybe it was just him she didn’t like. “She isn’t participating in the Winter Festival.”

His mother looked up from stirring her tea. “Oh? How come?”

Tyler finished off the sandwich, and when he grabbed a dish towel to wipe his mouth, his mother tossed him a napkin and muttered, “I swear, Tyler McKay, your manners are terrible sometimes. I know I taught you better.”

“You did. Sorry.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I don’t know why she’s not joining in. I got the feeling she just wanted to be left alone.”

“Well, she’s fairly new to town and she should meet the other shopkeepers. Everyone talks about what a wonderful job she did restoring that house. And as a member of the historical society, I’m delighted. If she hadn’t restored it, the town council would have torn down that lovely old place.”

Tyler admitted the two-story house did look spectacular. Painted soft yellow with green shutters and door, it had a white wraparound porch with some curly fretwork in the eaves. But what killed him was that he hadn’t noticed it until today.

Had he had his face that deep in work not to see the simple things going on around him? He’d been working long hours lately. Getting McKay Enterprises into the big-league competition with larger construction companies had been his father’s dream before he died. His father had taken the business regional last year, and in another year Tyler would take the company statewide.

“Yes, I agree Ms. Douglas should join in,” his mother said, breaking into his thoughts. “Perhaps I’ll ask her myself. Diana is the festival chairperson, you know.”

“When is she not?” His mother and her friend headed nearly every committee that existed in Bradford, South Carolina.

“I’d rather you two didn’t march over there and instigate something.” Lane would blame him for it, he thought.

“Really? Why?” When he didn’t jump in with a response, his mother eyed him for a second, then her face lit up.

Oh, man.

Before he could stop her, she blurted, “You’re attracted to her!”

“No, of course not. Well, maybe. It’s hard to say.” Heck. He rubbed his face for a second. It was plain strange. Lane was definitely not his type, whatever his type was. But this was something he sure didn’t want to speculate about with his mother. “I don’t know her at all, but she doesn’t let anyone get close, that’s for sure.”

“Anyone—or you?”

Tyler hadn’t seen her with anyone else but Davis and to the kid she was kind. But to him…well, she’d practically kicked him out the door. “Me.”

“Oh, nonsense. You’re making assumptions, Tyler. You just met her. And let’s remember, you met her after wrecking her car. Not exactly the best first impression, son. But as I recall, she isn’t like the women I’ve seen you date before.”

“It wouldn’t matter. I’m not looking for a wife, so get that gleam out of your eye, okay?”

His mom made a face. “Clarice was never the woman for you. Can’t you get beyond it?”

“No, and you liked her.” It sounded like an accusation, even to him.

His mother frowned distastefully. “I tolerated her because you loved her.”

Well, this was news. “Good grief, Mom, why didn’t you say anything before?”

“It’s a mother’s duty to accept and love the woman her son loves.”

There was no doubt in his mind that she believed that bunk. And no doubt she’d meant well. “In the future, I’d like to hear your opinion.”

She blinked, obviously taken aback. “Why?”

“Because you’re a good judge of character, and besides, it might have saved me the humiliation of learning the truth when I did.”

The week of his wedding. Literally just hours before people were getting on planes to come witness the event. He’d been at a party that some friends were giving them when he heard Clarice say to one of her bridesmaids that she could “put up with anything, even him, for McKay money.” Tyler had ended his engagement in the middle of the party, taken back his grandmother’s ring and left on his honeymoon trip, alone. It still hadn’t been easy coming back to gossip. And he hadn’t told a soul what had happened except his best man—his brother Kyle—and his parents. They had a right to know the truth, but no one else.

He hadn’t cared what Clarice had told anyone. He’d heard enough of her lies to last an eternity, and he wasn’t rising to the bait to defend himself, either. As far as he was concerned, the door was closed on that part of his life. He wasn’t about to repeat the mistake by opening it again. Ever.

“It’s been nearly three years, Tyler.”

“Who’s counting? I’m enjoying myself, Mom, so leave it alone,” he said, then kissed the top of her head and was out the door before she had a chance to hunt him down and reopen the wound.

And just the reminder of that staggering humiliation told him he couldn’t trust his own judgment. Especially when his heart was in for the ride.

Lane curled up in an overstuffed chair, setting the teacup on the end table and wrapping herself in an afghan she didn’t really need. It was a process, she thought, preparing for a ritual evening of reading. Tea, blanket, soft lights and music. The scent of cinnamon cookies on the plate beside her teacup from the bakery next door. Simple pleasures.

She’d never had rituals before moving to Bradford. Never thought she wanted them, never thought how lonely she was, only how alone she wanted to be. In her old life she’d be getting ready for a late dinner and the theater. And turning away from flashbulbs, and microphones shoved in her face.

She shivered and pulled the afghan closer. Her apartment, above the bookshop, had four rooms with a small kitchen. Another kitchen was still downstairs, and she’d had its old breakfast area retooled for moments just like this. A place out of the store traffic where her customers could curl up and read for a bit, chat with friends, discuss a new book.

A small sound broke the silence.

She glanced over her shoulder toward her bedroom. “Hello, Ramses. Too wet outside to prowl?”