Small-Town Cinderella

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.