Romancing the Wallflower

by Michelle Major

  “Mission accomplished on the couch.”

  “I want you to understand how special you are. I wish you saw yourself the way I see you.” He straightened, shook his head. “I have to admit I didn’t think you’d accept my apology tonight, and I wouldn’t have blamed you in the least.”

  “I’ll find another way to get funding,” she said, but he could hear the hesitation in her voice. He wanted to kick himself for how he’d acted earlier. He’d spent his whole life dealing with losers like Joel Martin, and had been in more than his share of fights to defend his sister. But he was older now, and he should be smarter. He had Rhett to think about.

  And now Erin.

  More than anything, David wanted to be the type of man who would deserve her.

  “I’ll help you,” he told her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Let me help you.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “Okay.”

  “And let me take you out on a real date.” When she didn’t respond immediately, he added a soft, “Please.”

  “You’re pretty good with manners,” she told him, rolling her eyes.

  “I’m good with a lot of things.” He leaned in and gave her one last lingering kiss. “I plan to demonstrate every one of my skills for you.”

  To his surprise, she laughed. The sound loosened the invisible band that stretched tight around his heart. “Are you sure you don’t read romance novels? Because that sounds like the perfect hero line to me.”

  “No hero here,” he told her. “But I hope you have some sweet dreams tonight.”

  “Good night, David,” she whispered.

  “Good night, Erin.”

  * * *

  By the beginning of the following week, Erin wondered if she’d dreamed her whole encounter with David.

  A sweet dream, indeed, but disappointing to think she’d made the whole thing up in her head.

  What other explanation could there be for the fact that she hadn’t seen or heard from him in five days? She might not be an expert on courting, but there was no doubt that’s not how it typically went.

  Each day, regret plagued her. The more plausible explanations for David’s silence were a lot harder to take. Maybe she shouldn’t have let things go so far on her couch. It felt like he put her up on some pedestal she wasn’t interested in standing on, so could it be possible that he’d lost respect for her? The more logical reason was simply that he wasn’t interested yet didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  Which hurt her more than if he’d been honest in the first place.

  She’d thought he might ask her out for the previous weekend, and she’d been fool enough to check her cell phone compulsively most of Saturday, waiting for a call that never came. In the end, she’d ordered pizza and binge-watched Pride and Prejudice—both the BBC and Hollywood versions. Then she’d thrown in Bridget Jones’s Diary for an extra Colin Firth fix.

  She told herself she should get in the habit of keeping her books on her nightstand instead of the other side of the bed. But really, why bother when Sugar was the one sharing it?

  Rhett had been making progress with his social skills, playing with Elaina during recess and interacting with the other kids in the after-school program.

  Joel Martin hadn’t been back to see her, but Isaac’s mother, Danielle, had signed him up for the program on the two days when she worked until five at the Hair Nation salon outside of town. Other than a subtle side-eye toward Rhett, the woman had been polite and grateful to have a place for her son to go after school.

  Isaac and Rhett had seemed to silently agree to a truce. The funny thing was the boys had a lot in common. Both were slow to make friends but craved social interactions. They liked building things and games of any sort. She’d managed to engage them both in a puzzle Monday afternoon and wished their parents could handle things so maturely.

  It was nearly five on Tuesday when an older woman with thick blond hair piled high on her head and makeup applied to make her look ten years younger sauntered into the room.

  “Rhett, baby,” she called, “get your things. Nana’s taking you out for a special treat.”

  Rhett looked up from where he was making a race car out of modeling clay. “I’m ’posed to stay here until Uncle David comes to get me. He’s picking me up.”

  “Change of plans,” the woman said. She moved forward and adjusted her oversize purse on her shoulder. “I’m Angela McCay, Rhett’s grandma.”

  Erin felt color rush to her face at the way Angela’s gaze seemed to take her in and automatically dismiss her. “David mentioned you arrived in town.”

  Angela’s blue eyes turned assessing. “Oh, did he now?” She shrugged. “I don’t think he talked about you. Are you and my son close?”

  “Um...we know each other because of Rhett.” If David hadn’t mentioned her, she wasn’t going to give this woman any details of her relationship—if she could even call it that.

  Rhett came to stand next to Erin. “I told you Ms. MacDonald is my favorite teacher.”

  “You’re in kindergarten,” Angela said, reaching out a hand to tousle Rhett’s blond hair. “There isn’t a lot to compare her to.”

  “She’s still my favorite,” Rhett said, his small chin jutting out.

  Erin felt a flood of gratitude for the boy and his innocent loyalty.

  “Do I need to sign something to check him out?” Angela asked, ignoring Rhett’s comment.

  “Each parent or guardian submits a form naming the people approved to pick up their child from the program.” Erin tried not to fidget under Angela’s stare. She could see where David and his sister got their looks.

  Angela might be a little rough around the edges, but it was clear she must have been a traffic-stopping beauty in her day. Lines snaked out from the edges of her eyes and around her mouth, but she still had high cheekbones, bee-stung lips and the kind of figure that seemed out of place on a woman with a five-year-old grandson.

  She wore a long-sleeved white T-shirt, low-slung jeans and boots. Around her neck were several strands of turquoise layered on top of a couple of heavy silver chains.

  “I’m his nana,” the woman said, her tone icy. “Of course I have permission to pick him up.”

  Erin pressed her fingers to the place on her chest where a knot of nerves was forming. “If you’d wait a minute, I’ll call David to confirm.”

  Just then one of the third-grade boys lobbed a purple crayon across the table at one of his friends. Instead of its intended target, the crayon hit the water cup a threesome of girls was sharing as they painted. The dirty water spilled across the table, sending the girls into a screaming panic.

  “It’s okay, girls,” Erin said, holding up a finger to ask Rhett’s grandmother to wait a moment. “We can clean things up.”

  “Are you in charge of all these kids?” Angela asked over the din.

  “I have help,” Erin answered, trying not to sound defensive, “but she went down to the office to make copies.”

  “Looks like you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew.”

  Embarrassment rushed through Erin. The old adage was one of her mother’s favorite reminders from when Erin was a girl. Every time Erin wanted to sign up for a new activity or try out for a team, her mother had said, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

  She hurried over to the side table and grabbed a roll of paper towels. “I’ve got it under control.”

  “While you deal with—” Angela waved her hands at the mess “—I’m going to take Rhett.”

  “I really need to talk to—”

  “My new shirt,” one of the girls screeched. “Paint water’s ruining my new shirt.”

  “Honey, let me make this easy on you.” Angela reached out and took Rhett’s hand. “I�
��ll text my son and let him know the boy’s with me. You take care of your mess.”

  “It’s not a mess,” Erin muttered at the same moment one of the girls, Ava Elliott, punched the boy who’d thrown the crayon in the stomach.

  Erin hurried to them as the boy doubled over in pain.

  By the time she looked up again, Angela and Rhett were gone.

  Claire Travers, the teenager who was assisting her with the program, came back in the room, her eyes growing wide at the chaos and commotion. “I was gone for like five minutes,” she said.

  “It’s fine,” Erin called. “Get Ava and Paige cleaned up, okay?”

  She helped the boy who’d been punched, Fletcher, to a seat on the beanbag.

  “Can’t breathe,” he whispered on a gasp.

  “She knocked the wind out of you.” Erin smoothed his hair away from his face. “Look at me and concentrate on moving air in—” she took a breath “—and out,” she said on an exhale.

  Fletcher swiped a hand over his eyes and did what she said. After a few minutes he was breathing normally.

  Claire managed to calm the girls and soon everything was back under control. Erin grabbed her phone to text David about his mother just at the same time parents started arriving to pick up kids. She meant to get back to the text, but as the last child walked out with her mother, Sara Travers poked her head into the room.

  “So this is where the child-wrangling magic happens?” she asked.

  “I helped manage a full-blown meltdown today with a couple of the girls,” Claire proudly told her stepmother.

  “She was brilliant,” Erin confirmed, feeling slightly awkward under Sara’s gorgeous blue gaze. Sara had been a famous child actor before her career got derailed in her teens. She’d come to Crimson a few years ago, fallen in love with Josh Travers and helped him open the Crimson Ranch guest ranch. Since then, her career had made a resurgence and now she balanced her Hollywood life with her life in the mountains.

  Although Erin didn’t know her personally, she’d seen Sara around town quite a bit. With Crimson’s proximity to Aspen, she should be used to movie star sightings, but it felt different with Sara. She was an integral part of the community after having lived in Crimson only a few years. Erin was still skirting the sidelines even though she’d spent most of her life in town.

  Olivia, who was Claire’s aunt by marriage, had arranged for the girl to assist Erin in the afternoons. Erin still hoped to receive funding to expand the program and her staff. Until then, Claire was a huge help. The girl was only fifteen but already had an instinctive talent for connecting with young kids.

  “Way to go, Claire-bear,” Sara said, giving the girl a quick hug. Although she wore a casual pair of distressed jeans with an oversize sweater, she still managed to project a look of subtle glamour. “You’re amazing.”

  The girl rolled her eyes like a typical teenager, but Erin could tell the simple praise meant a lot to her. It seemed to come so easily, and not for the first time Erin wondered what it would have been like to grow up in a household where she’d been valued instead of constantly found lacking.

  “Your dad is waiting downstairs,” Sara told Claire. “The truck is parked at the curb. We thought we’d grab dinner in town. Why don’t you head on down?”

  Claire smiled at Erin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “I count on it,” Erin answered. “I really appreciate your help, Claire.”

  The girl disappeared through the open doorway.

  “She’s special,” Erin said to Sara.

  “I wanted to tell you how much Josh and I appreciate you giving her this opportunity. She loves kids, and has plenty of experience babysitting, but this is different.”

  Erin gave a small laugh. “Not too different some days.”

  Sara inclined her head. “When did you know you wanted to be a teacher?”

  Erin thought about how to answer the question. She’d played school with her stuffed animals as a young girl, then been the one to ask teachers if she could help with the younger kids at recess as she’d gotten older. But she’d also known being a teacher wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her mom, so she’d feigned interest in a variety of more high-profile careers until she’d gone to college and immediately switched her major from premed to elementary education.

  “My mother,” she said, keeping her tone neutral, “was very much of the belief that ‘those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach.’”

  Sara groaned softly.

  “I think I knew—or at least recognized that I liked working with kids—for most of my life. All of my pretend play centered around setting up classrooms for my dolls and stuffed animals.”

  “I didn’t have much of a childhood,” Sara said, surprising Erin with her candor. “I was the breadwinner in the family, and whether or not I wanted to act, that was what I had to do.”

  “Would you have chosen something else if you’d had the chance?” Erin couldn’t help but ask.

  “Maybe,” Sara said with a shrug. “Something normal where I could just be a regular person.”

  Erin blinked. She’d spent her whole life wanting to be something other than regular. Now a famous actress stood in front of her wishing for normal.

  “I’ve got the best of both worlds now. But I don’t want Claire to go through what I did...” Sara paused, then added, “Or what you did as she tries to figure out her path in life.”

  “She’s young and obviously quite intelligent.” Erin straightened a stack of papers on the desk, then pulled her purse out of a drawer. “She’s lucky to have people in her life who want to support her. She’d be an excellent teacher, and I’m sure she’ll succeed in whatever she chooses to do with her life.”

  Sara drew in an audible breath. “Will you record that so I can play it back to her when the teenage drama and doubts get to be too much?”

  “Keep her engaged and stay involved in her life. I know you’re busy and have plenty of important things to take care of, but if you ever want to come with Claire, I can always use more hands on deck.”

  Sara’s already huge eyes widened further. She looked around the room, then back to Erin. “Would that be weird? I’m not great with kids. I mean, I was one and I have Claire and Emery, but she’s a baby. She can’t talk.”

  “My kids like to talk,” Erin said with a smile. “Especially when they have people to listen to them. You’re an actress. I’m sure you can fake it.”

  “I faked it for a lot of years,” Sara said, then laughed. “I’m an expert.”

  “Tell me about it,” Erin muttered. It was strange to feel this camaraderie with a woman whose life was so different, but comforting at the same time.

  “I’ll let you get on with your evening,” Sara said, stepping forward to envelop Erin in a quick hug. Sara’s fragrance was subtle and earthy but clearly expensive, and Erin couldn’t wait to tell her friends she’d been hugged by the A-list actress. “We should get together some time. A bunch of us have regular get-togethers—mostly for Mexican and margaritas but sometimes coffee or yoga. I’ll call you before the next one and you can join us.”

  “Thank you,” Erin whispered, feeling better than she had in a long time.

  As Sara turned to leave, David rushed into the room. “Sorry I’m late. We were having trouble with fermenting the most recent batch of the wheat beer.”

  “Hey, David.” Sara smiled. “I’m looking forward to watching you win the big prize in a couple of weeks.”

  “If we sort through the problems with this latest batch, maybe I’ll actually have a beer to enter.”

  “Good luck,” Sara said with a grin, and walked out of the room.

  “Thanks.” He ran a hand through his hair, then turned to Erin. “Where’s Rhett?”

  “With your mother,” she said, her stomach dro
pping at the way his brows drew down. “She was supposed to call you.”

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he shook his head. “No texts or calls.”

  “She told me—”

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to send him home with random people. Isn’t that why I filled out the paperwork?”

  “His grandmother isn’t random,” Erin insisted, even though she’d given the same argument to Angela. “She wanted to take him out for a fun afternoon.”

  David muttered a curse under his breath then said, “You don’t want to know my mother’s definition of fun.”

  “I thought she was here helping,” Erin said, throwing up her hands. “She’s staying with you. You don’t trust her with Rhett?”

  “I trust her.” David paced to the edge of the room. “Sort of. But she’s been talking about taking him up the mountain to see the leaves changing. I told her she had to stay in town with him, and we got in an argument about it. My mom is flighty and reckless. For all I know, she’ll start a hike with him and lose him in the woods.”

  “No,” Erin whispered. “That’s not possible.”

  “She took Jenna and me to downtown Pittsburgh one year for a Christmas parade. She got sidetracked by some sale at a department store and left us on the street with instructions not to move. Apparently, she forgot that she was doing more than a shopping trip and went home. The police finally picked us up after a street sweeper called them. According to my mom, she thought we were playing in the backyard.”

  “David.”

  “It was below freezing,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “Just like it gets cold up on the mountain at night this time of year.”

  Erin shook her head. “That can’t be what’s happened. I bet she went for an ice cream. If you said not to leave—”

  “My mom doesn’t give a—” He clamped his mouth shut. “She means well and she’s been fine this time around, but she’s not always reliable. Not when it counts.”

  “David, I’m—”