The Book Boyfriend Series Box Set

by Carly Phillips

  They’d had this conversation many times before—her genuine gratitude for taking care of her over the years. It didn’t matter that Kyle insisted he’d always be there for her—something his verbally abusive, alcoholic father never had been—she was always grateful and told him so, while he knew he wouldn’t be the man he was today if it hadn’t been for her love and guidance.

  Somehow, he’d turned out the opposite of Todd, probably because he’d always been keenly aware of how much his father’s actions, and Todd’s, had hurt his mother. That emotional pain was something he never wanted to put her through, so he’d always been on his best behavior. He strove to be the kind of man who would make her proud, and he’d like to think he’d accomplished that goal.

  “Before I head out for the day, there’s a few things I’d like to talk to you about,” he said, not sure how she was going to take this next conversation that was going to shake up the normal routine she’d been used to for the past thirty years.

  “Okay,” she said, sitting across the table from him. “And I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something, too. But you go ahead first.”

  His curiosity was definitely piqued. It wasn’t often his mother had something important she wanted to say. But they needed to discuss the Piedmont building and what it was going to entail for him to get it renovated into an event center and bakery in the time frame he’d allotted.

  “So, the next couple of months are going to move fast with the remodeling, and I’m going to need your help with quite a few things to get the place done and open by the two-and-a-half-month deadline I’ve set for the project.”

  He knew it was a tight period of time, but he’d already worked out an estimate, and it was definitely doable as long as he didn’t have any major problems along the way. He had a crew with a trusted foreman scheduled to implement the work Kyle needed done during the week while he handled business in Chicago, and he’d spend the weekends in Woodmont making sure everything was up to code and precisely how it needed to be.

  “You won’t have to worry about any of the physical stuff, but this business is yours, and I want you to make it everything you’ve ever wanted,” he continued. “That means, while my crew and I are doing the interior and exterior construction and build-outs and putting everything in that’s required for a working bakery and venue business, you’re going to need to be in charge of the design and decorating of both places and hiring the people you trust to work for you.”

  “Oh.” She blinked at him, her expression suddenly overwhelmed by it all. “Well, I’m not sure where to begin.”

  He smiled, because he’d already handled that aspect of things. “First, you need a name for the place.”

  “That I’ve had for years.” Her green eyes sparkled with a glimmer of excitement that warmed Kyle’s heart. “I’d like to call it Celebrations Bakery and Events.”

  “I love it.” He sat up and folded his hands on the table. “I’ll get all the business paperwork, permits, and licenses started for you, and we’ll get a custom sign made for the place that is exactly how you’d like it to be.”

  A slight frown pulled between her eyes. “I really don’t know much about design and decorating. I do have a few ideas, but I’m not sure where to even begin to make it all happen.”

  The last thing Kyle wanted was his mother being stressed over this new venture. “I’ve already hired a design consultant, a woman I’ve known for a while who works with restaurants, hotels, and other businesses to assist with concepts, themes, furnishings. She’ll help you envision what you want both places to look like.”

  “Okay,” she said with a nod. “I really can’t believe this is happening, and so fast.”

  “It really is,” he agreed. Ten weeks would go by in a snap. “There’s one more thing I need you to do.” And he knew this wouldn’t be an easy request for her to accept.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He drew a deep breath. “Quit your job at the diner so you can focus your time on the new business.”

  Her eyes opened wide in surprise and her lips pursed ever so slightly, that rare stubborn side of hers making an appearance. “I don’t see why I can’t keep working while you’re doing the renovations.”

  “Mom,” he said, addressing her gently but firmly, trying to be sympathetic to the fact that the diner was all she’d known since getting married, that it had been the one steady, consistent thing in her life, and it was difficult for her to walk away from it after all these years. “This is why I bought the building for you, so you don’t have to work at the diner anymore. So you can do what you want to do, not what you think you have to do. You’re going to have to quit the diner at some point, and quite frankly, I can’t do this all on my own. I’m going to need you to be my eyes and ears during the week when I can’t be here, and you’ve got decisions to make about the venue and bakery that are going to need your attention.”

  He watched her take a deep, fortifying breath. “You’re right. I just . . . ”

  “I know, Mom,” he said softly, because he didn’t need her to explain what he already understood. “You’ve got this. And if there’s anything that seems too overwhelming for you, we’ll figure it out together.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it.” She sat up straighter in her chair, her green eyes turning more serious than he’d anticipated. “But there’s something I need to ask you to do for me.”

  “Anything. You know that.”

  His mother hesitated a moment, then said, “It has to do with Ella.”

  Just the mention of her name made Kyle’s chest hurt, because ever since they’d gone their separate ways last weekend, as fucking friends, he’d felt as though someone had carved out a piece of his heart that was now missing. One night with Ella, and she’d made an indelible mark on him once again, forcing him to remember all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her all those years ago. Because she was sweet and kind and selfless. She made him laugh and feel happier than he had in a long time. He wanted to protect her, care for her, and be the guy she turned to when she needed someone to lean on. Even in their short time together, she made him want to be a better man for her.

  And she’d insisted they be nothing more than fucking friends. Yeah, he was still more than a little peeved about her ultimatum, because when she’d issued her “friends or nothing” deal, there was no way in hell he would have chosen nothing. Having Ella in his life, even as a fucking friend, was better than not having her at all.

  He knew the odds were stacked against them. That the smart thing to do was to be friends as she’d requested and let the idea of them go. But what he’d realized this past week was that he’d never let her go in the first place. Not in his mind and not in his heart. For ten years, he’d lived with the pain and regret of losing her, of wishing that things had ended differently, of comparing every woman he’d been with to her, only to find each and every one lacking.

  He might have tried to bury the heartache as deep as possible so he could get on with his life, but after last weekend with her, there was no doubt in his mind that Ella was the one and always would be. He just had no idea what he was going to do about them when she was so adamant that any kind of future between them was impossible—for valid reasons. And right now, he was stuck in the fucking friend zone anyway, he thought grumpily.

  “Kyle Coleman, wipe that scowl off your face,” his mother chastised, misconstruing his emotions and whatever expression he was currently wearing as a result of his frustrating thoughts. “That girl has been through a lot in the past ten years, and there is one thing I know that she’s always wanted . . . that she no longer believes is possible . . . ”

  “The building,” he murmured, already knowing what his mother was referring to.

  “Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “I’ve gone into the market over the years and she’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me, while her father won’t even sit in my section at the diner. Not that I care, because I did nothing wrong that night . . . a
nd neither did you.”

  Her tone was adamant, and a bit angry, too—not that he could blame her.

  He had no idea how their discussion had veered off track to that night, but he attempted to steer it back in place because, for one, he didn’t want to talk about the past, and two, he needed to leave in ten minutes to go and meet his guys to get started gutting the building.

  “Mom, what did you need to ask me?” And more importantly, what did it have to do with Ella?

  She patted her graying brown hair a bit nervously. “I want you to make a section of Celebrations that’s closest to the market a storefront for Ella, so she can have a place to sell those handcrafted items that people in town are trying to make a living on. Think of it as a service to the community and helping those small businesses to grow.”

  His mom, always thinking about someone else. Someone in need, in this case Ella. And the little guy, like the vendors who would benefit from Ella carrying and distributing their goods and getting their items into the hands of customers. This past week, the same thought had crossed Kyle’s mind, but he wasn’t sure how to make it happen. The building could be compartmentalized by storefronts, but since it was all one property, there wasn’t any way to sell off a section to Ella, even if he wanted to.

  “It’s one piece of property,” he tried to explain to his mother. “I can’t sell just a portion of it to her, and she’s not going to just take it.” No, his Ella was too proud, obstinate, and independent for that. She’d want to earn it and know that it was hers without owing anything to anyone.

  His mother merely smiled, seemingly unconcerned as she stood up, grabbed the cooler filled with food, and handed it to him. “You’re a smart man, Kyle,” she said, giving his cheek a gentle, loving pat. “I know you’ll figure something out.”

  He hadn’t agreed but his mother didn’t seem to care about that. She trusted him not only to do what she’d asked but to make it work despite the obstacles. He let out a low groan, wishing that Ella, the other woman in his life, had the same faith in his abilities to fix things that were wrong and reshape the future.

  * * *

  “Damn, how in the world are we supposed to get any work done with those gorgeous, hot, sweaty, and supremely muscular men distracting us next door?”

  Ella laughed at Claire’s comment because it was the truth. Ever since Kyle had arrived with his crew of men to start hauling junk out of the Piedmont building, it had been difficult not to glance out the store’s front windows—okay, stare in blatant appreciation was a more accurate description—when one or more of them were lifting heavy items out to the dumpsters they’d rented for the day. There was a crew of about eight guys, but the only one who captured Ella’s attention was Kyle. He was wearing a pair of old, faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt, but she’d come to the conclusion that nothing could detract from his perfectly sculpted body and those biceps and forearms that flexed as he effortlessly carried old furniture and boxes of stuff out of the building.

  She and Kyle might have agreed to remain friends, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look and enjoy what great eye candy he was. She just wished it didn’t make her feel so hot and bothered . . . and too damn wistful.

  “Break time is over,” Ella said, injecting humor into her tone as she forced herself to walk away from the window to get back to work. “I’m not paying you to ogle the studs next door. Besides, I don’t think Nolan would approve of you drooling over those guys, either.”

  Claire made a dismissive pfft sound as she reluctantly turned her back on the exceptional view outside. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with looking over the menu somewhere else, so long as I eat at home.”

  Ella shook her head at her friend’s amusing quip. It had only been a week since Nolan and Claire had gone out on their first date, and things between them were already hot and heavy. They weren’t dating exclusively yet, but in a small town like Woodmont, where single, intelligent, and good-looking men were limited, Claire had decided that Nolan would do just fine. Which meant she was getting laid on a regular basis and quite happy about it since, according to her, Nolan wasn’t a slouch in the bedroom. Lucky her.

  Ella was both happy for and envious of her friend because after one extremely hot and erotic night with Kyle last weekend, her battery-operated boyfriend didn’t even come close to satisfying the ache that pulsed between her legs when she thought of Kyle’s talented hands and mouth on her body and all the decadent ways he’d made her come. Her bed was cold and lonely, and unfortunately, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

  With a sigh, Ella finished clearing off a row of shelves near one of the cash registers in her mission to make room where she could to carry a few select specialty items for now. She was forced to be extra discerning about what products to offer at the market, and she hated that she had to pick and choose from the great list of local artisans, when she’d thought she’d have space galore to showcase all the different and unique goods she knew her customers would enjoy.

  “So, I was thinking,” Claire said as she dusted off the shelves with a rag. “It’s been a while since you and I have had some girl time, and you’ve been a little, okay, a lot down in the dumps after everything that happened with Kyle last weekend, so what do you say we head over to the Roadhouse after work tonight? Have a few drinks and dance and just have a good time?”

  The Roadhouse was on the outskirts of town and was a known pickup joint. It had been years since Ella had been there, but their only other option would be going to the movies at their one and only theater that was currently showing an outdated action-adventure flick or spending a few hours at the small bowling alley.

  “What about Nolan?” Ella asked as she opened up a box containing jars of the most delicious handcrafted strawberry-rhubarb jam that she’d ever tasted, which Marylou Weber made from the fruits she grew in her own garden. “It’s Saturday night, which is prime time for hooking up. Hard to imagine you giving up the opportunity to get laid.”

  “Meh, Nolan will survive without me for the evening.” Claire thought about that for a moment, then grinned. “Or I can always make a booty call when you and I are done having our girls’ night.” She waggled her brows.

  Great. So Claire would finish the night with a few orgasms, and she’d go home and . . . Ella shook her head of the depressing thought. She didn’t even want to think about how pathetically her evening would end.

  The last thing she wanted to do was go to the local bar, but staying at home and wallowing over things she couldn’t change wasn’t helping her mood any, either. At the very least, a drink or two would help her fall asleep easier when she finally fell into bed—by herself.

  “Okay, I’ll give Betsy a call and see if she can stay a few extra hours tonight with my dad.” Which was never a problem. Ella honestly believed that the two of them, despite their occasional squabbles or disagreements, actually enjoyed each other’s company.

  For the next few hours, Ella worked on product placement at the front of the store. She added jars of raw honey from a local gentleman who raised honeybees on his farm. Her two favorite flavors were the lavender and orange blossom honeys, and she’d promised the older man that she’d carry more of a variety if they sold well.

  After a while, she noticed that everything next door had grown quiet. No more jarring sounds of thumping and banging and clattering coming through the adjoining wall as they knocked down partitions and old beams and dragged debris out of the building. Claire had gone back to the office to work on payroll, and Ella cast a curious glance back out the front windows and saw that the guys had stopped working to eat lunch. Four of the men were sitting beneath a shade tree on the grass, while four other guys, including Kyle, were hanging out at the tailgate of his truck.

  It was a warm day out, and as Claire had mentioned earlier, the men were hot and sweaty. They were drinking from water bottles as they ate what looked like sandwiches that someone had made and packed for them, while talking and laughing an
d relaxing for a short bit before they got back to work.

  When Kyle had arrived early this morning, she’d been outside the store watering the pots of flowers on the sidewalk. He hadn’t come over, had just given a quick wave in her direction to acknowledge her before getting to work with his crew. Unlike Ella, who’d stolen surreptitious glances at Kyle through the window as the hours passed, not once had she caught him looking over at the store for her. And as stupid as it was, she was ridiculously annoyed by the ease with which he seemed to be able to avoid her. Then again, what did she expect after insisting they be just friends?

  She wasn’t spontaneous by nature, but in that moment, she decided to do something impulsive. Heading to the coolers where the drinks were kept to chill, she grabbed two six-packs of butterscotch beer, a non-alcoholic soda handcrafted by a guy the next town over. It was one of the market’s bestsellers, along with the delicious cream soda he made.

  She grabbed a few of the guy’s business cards and slipped them into her back pocket, then walked out of the store with her peace offering and headed toward Kyle’s truck. As she neared, Kyle and the three other men glanced in her direction, and she put on a nice, hospitable, welcoming smile.

  “Hey, Ella,” Kyle said, his tone polite but irritatingly reserved—and she hated that he was being so cordial. As if he hadn’t seen her naked or spent hours touching every single inch of her body or heard her shamelessly scream his name when she’d climaxed from the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever experienced.

  She exhaled and reminded herself that Kyle’s lack of enthusiasm was her own doing. That he was merely abiding by the friendship rules she’d established between them before leaving the city a week ago. It was difficult to fault him for that, yet she couldn’t deny that it made her feel more than a little disheartened.

  “Hey, guys. Thought you’d like something other than water to drink with your lunch.” She lifted up the two six-packs and explained what the bottles of soda were and set the two cartons down on the tailgate next to where Kyle was sitting, then added the business cards from her pocket. “And just in case you like it, here’s the vendor’s information. He makes weekly deliveries into the city.”