Debbie supposed it would have been hard to fit all that on a name tag.
Suppressing a sigh, she smiled as the waitress returned with their drinks and took a sip of the white wine Gary had ordered for both of them. She fought to keep her attention on the man in front of her instead of on the one across the bar. But that focus only brought more details to light. Like...wasn’t Gary’s blond hair combed a little too neatly? His clothes too perfectly pressed? And she’d bet the bakery that the shine on his nails came from a manicure.
Good hygiene was one thing, but that was just...weird, she decided, reaching for her wineglass again. Drew would never—
Debbie tried to stop the hopeless comparison, but suddenly the floodgates were open. There was nothing overstated about Drew, nothing that said he was trying too hard or that he was too hung up on his own good looks. Just a quiet confidence and yes, he was gorgeous enough for Debbie to be hung up on his looks. Of course, he was more than a pretty face and a drool-worthy bod.
He was...Drew.
The boy who’d stood up for her when some of the other kids in school had teased her about her weight and the outrageous desserts her mother always packed in her lunch. Of course, he’d been thirteen at the time and helped her in typical boy fashion—by stealing huge bites out of her cupcake or éclair or torte when Debbie wasn’t watching and then flashing her a cocky grin. In typical girl fashion, Debbie had protested, calling him names and probably sticking her tongue out a time or two, even as warmth bloomed inside her.
At nine years old, she’d known he was saving her from pigging out in front of the rest of the class or from hurting Bonnie’s feelings by refusing to take those desserts to school or, heaven forbid, throwing out the food her talented mother made with such love.
And then there was the day of her mother’s funeral. Just about everyone in town had stopped by to tell her how much her mother would be missed and how they would be there for Debbie if she needed anything.
She’d smiled through it all, reminiscing about her mother, talking about how much she loved to bake and to share her gift of sweets with the town. Only later did Debbie break down in the back of the bakery, crying over a batch of éclairs that she had never, ever been able to make as well as Bonnie, as it hit her that she would never taste her mother’s baking again. It was then, after everyone else was gone and she was alone, that Drew knocked on the bakery’s back door. He hadn’t said much, simply holding her as she cried and then helped her to clean up the mess she’d made of the kitchen.
He’d told her everything would be okay, and though countless others had offered that same platitude, wrapped in Drew’s arms, breathing in the familiar scent of his aftershave and listening to the quiet confidence in his deep voice, she’d believed him. And she’d held on to that belief deep in her heart, pulling it out when life got rough and she’d had her doubts about running the business on her own or during the holidays when at times she felt so alone. And somehow she knew everything would be all right. Because Drew had told her so, and he would never go back on his word.
This time, she couldn’t keep her glance from straying over toward his booth. Her heart slammed against her rib cage when his dark-eyed gaze snared hers. His date had disappeared, and he was looking back at her without a hint of surprise. A wash of heat crept up her face. How long had he been watching her while she’d been trying so hard not to watch him? And was he really going to sit there the rest of the night, studying her as she pretended to have a good time? Because, yes, by now she was past the point of convincing herself she actually was having a good time.
She reached for her glass, surprised to find it almost empty, but thankfully the waitress quickly stopped by with reinforcements. She started when Gary reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m so glad you came to this event. It’s hard to meet the right person, isn’t it?”
The right person? Oh, good Lord, she really hoped he wasn’t talking about her! “Um, yeah. Look, Gary—”
“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were the one.”
Debbie swallowed. “Gary, that’s so...sweet of you to say. But the thing is...” Oh, jeez. She hated doing this. She’d been on the other side of the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech too many times not to feel badly about delivering it. “I’m not really looking for anything serious. I just want to meet some new people, to go out and have a good time.”
His sincere expression quickly morphed into one that was far more interested. “Well, in that case, why don’t we get out of here? I’ve booked a room in a hotel just down the street where we can really have some fun.”
“Whoa, there, Gar! I think you still have the wrong idea about me. But, you know, good luck with all that!”
Grabbing her glass, Debbie downed half the wine in a single gulp as she made her escape.
Speaking of which... Yep, Drew was still in the corner booth. Still watching...which meant as much as tonight was starting to look like a bust, she couldn’t go home yet. She didn’t want to give Drew the satisfaction of thinking that he’d run her off or worse, that he was right and that she should be spending her nights at home alone like a good girl.
She was going to have fun tonight, she thought grimly, even if it killed her.
* * *
She was killing him.
Drew’s hand tightened around the soda he’d been downing all night. He hadn’t come to the bar to drink, though that was the invitation he’d issued to Cassidy Carter. It had been strictly business, and he didn’t drink on the job. Of course, Cass had left over an hour ago, and he still hadn’t switched to anything harder than pure sugar and caffeine. He was a little afraid of what he might do if even so much as a beer went to his head. Hell, the rate the night was going, he should probably switch to diet and caffeine-free.
Every time Debbie laughed, every time she touched another guy—even if it was just to shake hands—every time she leaned closer to hear what one of them said, every damn time the guy’s gaze dropped to the rounded curves on display beneath a sweater that looked like it was made out of cotton candy, Drew had to fight to keep his butt in the booth.
He’d always considered himself a patient man, but he was quickly running out. Still, he kept waiting. Waiting for Debbie to realize none of these losers were good enough for her. He could see it at first glance. What was taking her so damn long?
He’d thought overhearing Debbie at Darcy’s bachelorette party was bad. But that had only been words, and he’d done his best to convince himself it was just talk. That she wasn’t serious about wanting some stranger to sweep her off her feet. Clearly, he was wrong. Not only had Debbie meant every word, she was backing them up with actions.
And it was killing him.
Drew didn’t want to look too closely at the reasons why. Debbie was an old family friend, and he was worried about her. That was reason enough, right? He didn’t want to think that he was jealous or that he wanted to be one of the men standing close enough to her to know if that sweater could possibly feel as soft as it looked. He certainly didn’t want to think about any of those men kissing her the way he had on the balcony last weekend because he shouldn’t have been the one kissing her, either. Tonight only drove that home more than ever. How could he be the one to protect her if he had to worry about protecting her from himself?
But when the waitress brought Debbie yet another glass of wine and when the introduction handshakes turned into nice-to-meet-you hugs, he couldn’t stand by any longer.
He was saving her from herself. When she came to her senses and forgot all about this whole adventure and excitement streak she was on, she’d realize that, too. She’d probably even thank him for it.
A burst of mocking laughter that sounded just like his brothers’ echoed in his head.
Yeah, sure she would.
* * *
Debbie wasn’t sure how long she’
d been talking to the brown-haired guy standing in front of her before she realized she no longer held his full attention. His gaze kept flicking toward a point over her shoulder. She might have feared she was too boring to hold his interest, but boredom didn’t put a look of fear in a guy’s eyes.
“I think I should, um...” He was already backing away before he blurted out, “Nice meeting you, Debbie.”
She didn’t have to turn around to around to know Drew was behind her. “What are you doing, Drew?” she asked as she drained the last of her wine and motioned to the waitress for another glass.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I am here for singles’ night.” She turned to face him, feeling herself wobble slightly in her new shoes. She should have gone with the boots instead of the heels, but the pumps had the cutest bow on the toe.... “And you should be with your date.”
A frown pulled his dark brows together. “I’m not on a date.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine the brunette you were with earlier.”
“That wasn’t a date. She’s a coworker on a custom house I’m building in the area.”
“You always hold hands with your coworkers? I bet your subcontractors love that.”
“We weren’t holding hands. Cassidy was upset and I was trying to reassure her. The client we’re working for is a real nightmare, and Cass is ready to quit. None of which explains what you’re doing here.”
“I told you. It’s singles’ night, and I’m single,” she said, crossing her arms and meeting his scowl with a smirk.
He mimicked her actions, minus the smirk, folding his muscular arms over his broad chest, as he replied, “Well, so am I.”
“You’re not signed up for this event,” she protested.
Glancing over at a nearby high-top table, he spotted the clipboard and a few leftover name tags. Within seconds, he’d scrawled his name across the sign-in sheet and slapped a tag to his broad chest. His name in bold, block letters with the word contractor written beneath. “It’s not supposed to be a business card, Drew,” she said as she reached out and poked him right in the name tag.
He caught her hand and held it for a moment as his gaze dropped to her chest. Or at least to the name badge on her sweater. “Obviously.”
Debbie blinked, for a second having forgotten what she’d written on her own tag. “Oh, yeah. That.”
Hungry for the taste of adventure....
It had sounded like something fun to write down at the time, so why did she suddenly feel embarrassed, like a teenager caught by her mother making out with a boy on the front porch? She didn’t know. She couldn’t even be sure how a moment like that would have felt. She’d never dated as a teenager. She’d never had the opportunity to do so many things.
And that was why she was willing to take a chance on this singles’ group. Okay, so tonight had been a bit of a disappointment. There were other events planned. This night was only the beginning. She smiled her thanks and handed the waitress some cash in exchange for another glass of wine.
Lifting her chin, she met Drew’s gaze head on. “You’re not my big brother, Drew. I don’t need you to rescue me.”
A flash of guilt flickered across his expression, and Debbie realized she’d nailed it. He really did think of her like a little sister, someone to look out for, someone to protect. She took a swallow of wine to wash away the ache in her throat. So much for thinking he might have been jealous. So much for the foolish hope that he’d approached her because he wanted to be the guy she was talking to instead of the half a dozen or so men whose names she’d already forgotten.
Catching her by the wrist, he took the wineglass from her hand and set it aside. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“You’ve got that right,” she muttered. She’d certainly had enough of him!
Pushing past him, she headed for the exit. The cool, quiet night air brushed her heated cheeks, a welcome relief from the noisy, crowded restaurant. Her heels crunched unevenly across the asphalt, but she didn’t get far before he caught up with her again.
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I didn’t have that much to drink.”
“You had four glasses of wine.”
“You were counting?” Debbie snorted, only to realize maybe that was a good thing since she seemed to have stopped keeping track after two. No wonder the asphalt was rocking beneath her feet, and the stars were shooting like a pretty kaleidoscope overhead....
“Let me take you home.”
Oh, why did Drew’s murmured words have to sound so much better than any of the invitations she’d heard from potential dates that evening? Not that he meant anything by it. Just like he hadn’t meant anything by the kiss they’d shared. “You can’t fool me.”
He was playing the role of the white knight—offering rides home and apologizing for kisses when he should have been kissing her again.
“What?”
“What, what?” She hadn’t said anything. Oh, crap, what had she said?
Frowning, Drew asked, “How is asking to give you a ride home trying to fool you?”
Relieved she hadn’t spilled anything too embarrassing, yet still annoyed, she snapped, “You didn’t offer to drive me home. You asked to take me home. As in, ‘Let’s go back to your place.’ You think I don’t know a come-on when I hear one, Drew Pirelli?”
Just like she knew very well when she hadn’t heard one, but she found herself entirely unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.
“That’s not— I didn’t—” A pained expression crossed his face, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Blowing out a breath, he started again, “Debbie, I—”
Feeling another apology coming on, she threw up a dismissing hand and started walking. Not that she would risk driving home, but she had a coat in her car and if she had to wait who knew how long for a cab, she’d rather not have to stand around shivering.
But she only made it a few steps before the ground slipped out from beneath her feet. And not because she’d fallen. Her startled gasp ended in a mousy squeak as Drew swept her up into his arms. The stars spun wildly overhead, and without thought she clung to his shoulders. Their gazes collided for a heat-filled second before his mouth crashed down on hers in a stunning kiss.
If that night on the balcony had been wedding fever, this was a different level of heat altogether. The kiss tasted of frustration and passion, a fight-fire-with-fire kind of burn that promised so much more—
The earth may well have moved, but Debbie didn’t realize Drew had until he plopped her into the passenger seat of his car. His breathing still ragged from the kiss, he repeated, “You’re not driving home.”
Despite the way the world was still tilting around her, every ounce of independent woman roared inside her. Realizing her hands were still fisted in his shirt, she pushed him away. “I cannot believe you just did that!”
Drew’s jaw tightened as he leaned closer, until she could catch a hint of his aftershave mixed with the woodsy night air. “Believe it.”
The vehicle’s dome light wasn’t very bright, but in its faint glow, she saw something in his hardened expression. Something that made her pulse pound even harder. Something that made her wonder if she was seeing Drew in a different light...or if something had changed in the way he was seeing her.
And she had the feeling that as surprised as she was by his actions, he’d surprised himself even more.
Chapter Four
I cannot believe you just did that!
Debbie’s outraged words rang in his head on the silent drive back home. Drew couldn’t believe it himself. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he glanced over at Debbie. She was looking out the side window, giving him little more than a view of the back of her head, but he could imagine the fire in her blue
eyes. She had every right to be pissed and to give him the cold shoulder, but her silence at least allowed him the time to get his emotions back under control.
Damn if he couldn’t hear Angie laughing at him now.
His former girlfriend had accused him more than once of not having emotions. If I walk out this door right now, you won’t even try to stop me, will you? she’d demanded during the fight that led to their breakup. Truth was, he had tried to stop her. He’d talked about how good they were together, how much they had in common. He brought up the time they’d both invested in the relationship and asked if she really wanted to throw that away.
But even as the words were coming out of his mouth—logical, sensible words—he’d known it wasn’t enough. Whatever Angie wanted, he didn’t have it within himself to give it to her. And that was the reason why he hadn’t stopped her when she did finally walk out that door.
Never once had it occurred to him to physically pick Angie up and kiss her to try to convince her to stay. Watching Debbie walk away...that instinct had been undeniable.
And it didn’t make sense! Debbie wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend. And while he wouldn’t have let her drive home even if he hadn’t known her her entire life, he could have stopped her another way. Hell, all he’d had to do was take her purse and the keys inside. Simple, easy, logical. And yet that solution had never occurred to him.
Drew shifted in the driver’s seat. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like it. He wanted things to go back to the way they used to be when he didn’t know how it felt to have Debbie’s soft sweater and softer curves pressed against him. When he didn’t have the memory of her kiss replaying again and again through his mind. When he didn’t have to fight his imagination to keep the kiss from becoming more than a kiss as his lips moved lower to taste the curves of her breasts....
He’d stopped, or if he were totally honest with himself, he’d been interrupted, that night on the balcony before he could take things further. And yet his fingertips tingled with the thought of tracing the soft, pale skin beneath the burgundy dress she’d worn. He could hear her trembling sighs as his touch became more intimate, more arousing.
Small-Town Cinderella (The Pirelli Brothers) Page 5
