Her Fill-In Fiancé

by Stacy Connelly

  Chapter Eight

  The moment Jake set foot out of the rental car in front of Hope’s Victorian, he heard the high-pitched yapping heading for his heels. This time, though, he’d come prepared. He grabbed a bag of jerky-like dog treats from the seat next to him and tossed a small piece a few feet away.

  The silly dog, who Jake had to admit was kind of cute in an ugly sort of way, skidded to a halt. She nosed around the treat briefly before eating it. He had to give the little beast credit. She caught on fast. The second treat, one he tossed while walking toward the house, she snatched up in midair, and by the time he reached the porch steps, her tiny, nimble steps matched his stride as he dropped the snacks along the way.

  Not that Jake took his acceptance for granted. Too sudden a movement, and he knew his pant leg would be back on the little dog’s radar.

  “Well, well, Mr. Cameron.” Hope’s voice carried from beyond the front door before she rolled onto the porch. “Looks like Sophia was wrong. Bonita isn’t immune to your charm either. Another female unable to resist.”

  After what happened the day before, Jake had never felt less charming, and he knew the one woman—the only woman—who mattered would have no trouble resisting him.

  Forcing a smile at Hope, he confessed, “I don’t think it’s my charm so much as it’s a bag of treats.” He held out the bag for Hope to see and then bit back a laugh as Bonita sprang up two feet in the air, trying to reach it.

  “We all have our weaknesses,” Hope pointed out.

  Sophia could easily be his if he hadn’t already learned his lesson the hard way. He’d tried to be a father to Josh, but he’d been the reason the little boy had gotten hurt. He refused to take that chance again with Sophia and her baby.

  He could have explained the reasons why he’d pulled away like he had, could have told her what happened with Josh so she’d realize why he couldn’t be the man for her. It might have eased the hurt he’d seen written across her vulnerable features.

  It’s better this way, Jake reminded himself. Better to hurt a little now than a lot later.

  All he had to do was remember Josh’s accident, the frantic ambulance ride to the hospital, and the agonizing hours that followed, and he knew without a doubt Sophia and her baby were better off without him.

  “You seem to have a soft spot of your own where Sophia is concerned.”

  Hope smiled, but not before Jake caught a brief shadow quickly hidden behind the benign expression. “Sophia is a wonderful girl.”

  Seeing Hope and Sophia together the previous day, Jake had his suspicions that something about the two women and the report he’d read on Sophia’s past “crimes” didn’t add up.

  Sophia’s guilt was genuine, of that Jake had no doubt, but despite whatever rebellious stage she’d gone through back then, he didn’t believe she would have had any part in robbing and ransacking Hope’s store.

  And as for Hope, even a woman willing to forgive and forget might have second thoughts about trusting a person who’d burned her in the past. Yet the woman had all but insisted Sophia take over running the store.

  “I’ll be fine, Jake,” Sophia had told him when he dropped her off that morning after a silent, tension-filled ride. “I’ve opened up for Hope plenty of times before.”

  Her words were true enough, but Jake doubted gazing up and down the street with wide, haunted eyes had ever been part of her regular routine. Yet she was determined to face down her fears because Hope had asked.

  The rumble of Drew’s truck interrupted, and Hope made what Jake recognized as a timely escape. “I’ll bring you boys out some lemonade to keep you cool while you’re working.” With a last look of longing at Jake, Bonita hopped up the stairs and followed her mistress inside.

  “Great idea to build a ramp over the steps,” Drew said to Jake by way of greeting as he climbed from the silver truck bearing the name Pirelli Construction on the side.

  Sophia had suggested Jake give her brother a call. He had some minor experience with home improvement, but nothing to compare with the craftsmanship Jake had seen when Sophia pointed out one of Drew’s custom-built homes.

  “I was laid up myself not too long ago,” Jake admitted. His leg was getting better by the day, but the memory of the helplessness, the frustration of being stuck in the hospital still played in his mind. He’d pushed himself to beat the doctor’s predictions about the long length of his recovery time and to get back on his feet within days, not weeks.

  Drew circled around to the back of the truck, which was loaded with two-by-fours, sheets of plywood and a collection of power tools. Dropping the tailgate, he added, “I should have thought of it myself, but I didn’t realize Hope was in a wheelchair.”

  “She told Sophia yesterday she didn’t feel comfortable using crutches.”

  Her exact words had been, If I try walking with those silly little sticks, I’ll end up breaking something worse than my ankle.

  “Knowing Hope, she’s already hell on wheels in that chair. I can’t imagine a busted ankle will slow her down.” He slanted Jake a look. “She tell you she’s been married five times?”

  “She might have mentioned it.”

  Shaking his head with a rueful smile, Drew said, “I almost hope she finds double-oh-six soon. Past few years, she’s turned her romantic eye toward the rest of the town and made it her mission to try and match up every available man and woman.”

  Jake wondered if Sophia would feel any better if she realized Hope hadn’t singled out the two of them.

  Grabbing a few two-by-fours and hoisting them on his shoulder, Drew grinned. “Bet she went after you and Sophia big time.”

  “Wedding plans were discussed,” Jake said wryly as he reached for the nail gun.

  Drew clasped Jake on the shoulder with his free hand. “Way to take one for the team, man. Sam’s stopping by in a little while, and I guarantee he’ll be as relieved as I am to have you share some of the heat.”

  “Sam? So he can rebuild car engines and build houses?”

  “We all know enough to help each other out if we need to. You know how it is.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Jake agreed. No way was he going to tell the other man he didn’t have clue what it was like to have family he could depend on.

  During those months of waiting for information from Cliff, Jake had wondered if the PI might find even more than Jake’s father. Was it possible he had half siblings out in the world?

  Cliff had done his best to warn Jake not to get his hopes up. With twenty years’ experience, Cliff had seen his share of people looking to reconnect—estranged family members, adopted children, biological parents.

  “They’re not all happy endings,” he’d warned.

  As it turned out, his father didn’t have any other children, and in the years since learning of his father’s death, Jake had concluded it was just as well. He’d already spent far too many years trying to fit in where he didn’t belong.

  But working side by side with Drew, Jake didn’t feel like an outsider. After they unloaded the supplies, Drew talked out a design that Jake could practically see coming together piece by piece in the other man’s head. But when Drew stopped for a moment to sketch out what he had in mind, he asked Jake’s opinion on the details, including him with the same openness the family had shown in welcoming him into their home.

  When Sam arrived a while later, he fit seamlessly into the mix. The easy affection and friendly competition the Pirelli brothers shared was completely foreign to Jake, and yet it was something he thought he could get used to, something he wouldn’t mind being a part of.

  He and Connor McClane were friends, and Jake respected Cliff and appreciated all the older man had taught him, but in both cases, much of their contact revolved around work, making it easier for Jake to think of them more as professional relationships.

  Stop fighting so hard. It’s okay to let someone close enough to care about you.

  Was that really all it would take? For him to let
his guard down enough to let people inside?

  “You do good work, Jake,” Drew said as they finished up the ramp by gluing down a piece of indoor/outdoor carpet for added traction.

  “Thanks, but the design was all your idea.”

  “Hey, it was a team effort all around,” Sam added.

  It was the second time one of the Pirellis had included Jake as part of their team. For a brief moment, he thought of what it would be like if his relationship with Sophia was real, if the wedding plans were more than simple conjecture. Drew and Sam would be his brothers-in-law, the elder Pirellis his in-laws, and Sophia…Sophia would be his wife.

  An image formed in his mind, one of Sophia gazing up at him, her beautiful smile lighting her features, as she cradled a baby—their baby—in her arms. Longing pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe, and he ruthlessly shoved the impossible dream from his mind.

  He wasn’t doing this again, dammit! He wasn’t going to build his world around a dream of love and family and fatherhood only to have that life pulled out from underneath him once Sophia realized he didn’t have what it took to be a husband or a father.

  Unaware of the dark turn of Jake’s thoughts, Sam suggested, “Once we finish up here, want to go get a beer?” as he coiled the extension cord for the nail gun around his forearm.

  The temptation to drown the past with something stronger than beer, someplace far, far away from Clearville, beckoned, but Jake shook his head. He’d promised Sophia he would stay until her parents’ anniversary, and he refused to break that promise.

  “I, um, can’t. Hope’s arranged for a new shipment to arrive at the store, and I wanted to be there in case Sophia needs help.” He didn’t know for sure what was being delivered, but he could easily see Sophia trying to move furniture around or climbing up on a ladder like Hope had to make sure everything was just right.

  The two brothers exchanged a glance. “We’re all glad Sophia’s got you to take care of her now.”

  Jake frowned. Sam’s words weren’t so different from his own, but he hoped he hadn’t sounded nearly so condescending. “Sophia can take care of herself. I just want to be there for her if she needs a hand.”

  He wanted to see Sophia shed the ghost of the past, and he had an idea that was exactly what Hope had in mind when she put Sophia in charge of the store.

  “Right, like I said,” Sam agreed.

  “The point is,” Drew added, “we’re glad Sophia found someone like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Yeah, for a while Mom was thinking Sophia had a thing for the son of that rich family she’s working for.” Sam slammed the tailgate shut with enough force to rock the three-quarter-ton truck.

  “Our little sister and a player like that Dunworthy guy?” Drew’s normally easygoing features twisted into a scowl. “She wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

  She didn’t, Jake silently agreed.

  “Anyway, we’re all glad Mom was wrong for once and that Sophia’s with you.”

  “Yeah. We like you, Jake,” Sam added.

  “Right,” Drew nodded.

  “But if you hurt our sister…” The brothers shared another look before simultaneously finishing, “We’ll kick your ass.”

  “I understand. Totally.”

  Hell, he’d wanted to do the same when Sophia told him she was pregnant with Todd Dunworthy’s child, only his feelings hadn’t been the least bit brotherly. Given the man’s reputation, Jake should have known, should have guessed Sophia’s secret. Instead, the news had left him feeling stunned…and jealous.

  It made no sense. Logically, Jake had understood that. He could do the math; Sophia had been pregnant before the two of them ever met. There was no question of unfaithfulness, but none of that had stopped Jake from feeling like bashing the guy’s too handsome face in.

  Much as Sam and Drew would want to do to Jake once he left town. But if accepting the blame for their breakup took some of the pressure off Sophia, she could lay it all on him. Even though his leg still wasn’t 100 percent, he’d willingly face the ass-kicking her brothers promised, although he pointed out, “Two to one odds are better than some I’ve faced. You sure you don’t need Nick to join in, too?”

  Drew scoffed. “We aren’t gonna jump you at once.”

  “Hell, no! We’ll take turns. But as for Nick…”

  “He’s the one you really need to worry about,” Drew finished, but his frown made it plain Nick was the one Drew worried about.

  Sam nodded. “Lotta anger there.”

  “I noticed,” Jake said. With too much of it aimed at Sophia for his liking. “Sophia hasn’t said anything, but it’s clear Nick hasn’t welcomed her back with open arms.”

  When Drew hesitated, Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s not some big secret. Carol, Nick’s wife, filed for divorce years ago. They’d had their problems, but Nick wanted to work things out.”

  “Instead, he came home from work one day to find out Carol had left him—and their daughter, Maddie.”

  “Okay, I get why that would make Nick angry at his ex-wife. Where does Sophia fit in?”

  “It was a few months after Sophia took off for Chicago.”

  “I don’t get the connection.”

  Sam shrugged. “Seems like maybe Carol said some things about Sophia having the right idea about leaving this town…”

  As if that was all it took to convince the woman to leave her husband and child, Jake thought, irritated that anyone could buy into that flawed logic.

  “And he’s still angry. About the divorce, about how rarely Carol sees Maddie, about having to raise a daughter on his own. I don’t know…maybe part of that is hiding his feelings from Maddie. Maybe it’s easier for him to stay civil when he talks to Maddie about her mother if he can focus his anger somewhere else.”

  “You mean on someone else,” Jake corrected, anger tensing his muscles. Sam and Drew were all about defending Sophia from outside threats, but how could they ignore how hard it was for her to shoulder a guilt she had no reason to feel? “No wonder Sophia was so reluctant to come back.”

  “It’s not like that!” Drew protested. “Sophia understands how hard the divorce was on Nick.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jake challenged. “And who understands how hard all that blame has been on Sophia?”

  Sophia had never been a fan of horror movies, but she’d seen enough of them to know the stereotypes. As she moved through The Hope Chest toward the front door, she felt every bit the foolish female who leaves comfort and safety to go investigate the strange noise in the darkness…despite the axe-wielding serial killer on the loose.

  And while Clearville was axe murderer free, flipping the sign in the window to “Open” and turning the lock went against every self-preservation instinct Sophia had to pull the covers over her head and hide.

  But she’d promised Hope, and Sophia had to admit, the store offered a familiarity she found comforting. She’d enjoyed wandering around the shop before it opened and checking out the treasure trove of merchandise. Even back when Sophia had worked there nearly every day, something new always seemed to turn up, though Hope always swore the beaded purse or silver vase or mosaic stepping stone had been in the store for “ages.”

  “Shopping isn’t always about buying what you want,” Hope insisted. “Sometimes it’s about finding what you didn’t know you even needed.”

  And nothing in her shop was unsellable. Items that sat on shelves for months were, in Hope’s opinion, simply waiting for the right buyer.

  It was the idea of facing some of those buyers that had Sophia’s hands shaking as she opened the door.

  Up and down Main Street other stores were slowly awakening—lights flickering on, doors opening, displays rolling out to entice shoppers to enter. It wouldn’t take long for people to notice The Hope Chest was open again. But it was the reaction when everyone realized Hope wasn’t the one manning the store that Sophia was dreading.

  She didn’t know how many ti
mes the bell over the door rang before her heart stopped jumping at the sound. A rush of shoppers from a bus tour helped as Sophia answered questions about the store, the town, her favorite place to eat and the best place to stay.

  As she rang up sales and wrapped purchases, Sophia realized how much she’d missed working in the store. For too many years, guilt and regret had clouded her thoughts of The Hope Chest, overshadowing even the good memories. And there were good memories, enough to hold up Sophia’s spirits and keep her from flinching whenever the bell announced another customer.

  In between ringing up sales, she kept busy sweeping a feather duster over the various collectibles and wiping down the display cases. Fight the good fight, Hope had always teased. The battle against dust bunnies never ends.

  If Sophia were a betting woman, she’d lay odds on the bunnies, prolific creatures that they were. And with Hope laid up, she certainly hadn’t been able to keep up with any kind of cleaning, Sophia thought, ignoring a slight twinge of unease. To the average shopper, the store likely looked the same as always, but Sophia had once known the place inside and out. She couldn’t help noticing a hint of wear around the edges, like antique lace starting to yellow with age.

  Pushing the thought aside, she did her best to return the store to the way she remembered even if the work left her feeling a little ragged. It was a relief when noon rolled around, allowing her to take a break. Hope had always closed for a quick twenty minutes, and Sophia needed the time to run an errand.

  Bonnie’s Bakery was across the street and a few stores down, and even if she hadn’t known its direction, she could have followed the delicious scent of fresh bread right to the front door.

  Stepping inside, she inhaled the sweet, yeast-scented air. A glass case displayed an array of muffins, pastries and doughnuts almost too perfect to be real, yet Sophia knew from experience they tasted even better than they looked.

  “Sophia, it’s so good to see you!” Debbie Mattson, daughter of Bonnie and the current owner of Bonnie’s Bakery, said. “I’ve been hoping you’d stop by. I figured it wouldn’t be too long before you could no longer resist the call of my blueberry doughnuts.”