Small-Town Bachelor

by Jill Kemerer

  “I don’t know.” His eyes shimmered. “You did all the work.”

  “Go ahead.” She grinned, waving the mallet toward him.

  He ripped the sheet off and read the sign out loud. “Help rebuild Lake Endwell. Celebrate the restoration on Memorial Weekend!” A drawing of a thermometer with black lines leading up to one hundred thousand dollars filled the sign. The first ten thousand was already filled in red. “How did you raise ten grand already?”

  She shrugged. “Dad. He’s passionate.”

  “And generous.”

  “Well, the town means a lot to us.”

  Reed took her hand in his. Her heartbeat pounded. “It means a lot to me too.”

  She wanted to lean in, to kiss him, but she covered his hand with her other one and stepped back. A good friend. “Thanks for everything, Reed.”

  The intensity in his eyes was not helping her racing pulse.

  She pulled her hand free. “What do you have planned for this afternoon? We could watch a movie or something.”

  “I can’t,” he said, his voice raspy. “I promised John I’d review the hospital bid.”

  “Okay.”

  But it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay that one minute she tried to convince herself he was a good friend, and the next she wanted more. Needed more.

  This relationship would end.

  With Reed hours away and her here. Alone.

  * * *

  Why had Claire caved in to Aunt Sally’s demands for a shopping trip? On a Sunday, no less?

  After Claire dropped Reed off at the cottage, Libby came over, and they’d been happy watching You’ve Got Mail and eating their body weight in nachos and ice cream. But no, Aunt Sally forced them from the couch to the mall.

  “Three more weeks! The restaurant will be open.” Aunt Sally rubbed her hands together so rapidly she could start a fire right there in Macy’s women’s department. Claire scanned the wall for a fire extinguisher.

  “Really?” Claire asked. “I didn’t realize the restaurant would be done so soon.”

  “Reed’s been keeping on the contractors and they are flying! Flying, I tell you. I think we’d still be staring at the same pile of rubble if he hadn’t stepped in when he did.” Sally clutched her purse to her chest. “We’ll finally be ready for Friday fish fry again.”

  Claire’s pulse tripped at the mention of Reed, but she doused it with another round of admonitions. He was reviewing the hospital bid right now. The project he would be lining up as vice president. In Chicago. And she should be purchasing sandals or something. Anything to get her mind off him.

  “I’m happy for you and Uncle Joe.” Libby seized a hot-pink scoop-necked shirt from the rack. “The town isn’t the same without the restaurant. I’m ready to sip lemonade from the outdoor patio and listen to Jimmy Buffett.”

  “We all can’t wait to get our hands around one of your bacon cheeseburgers.” Claire poked through the shorts, but none caught her eye.

  “Too bad Reed will be back in Chicago soon. He fits right in here. But that job of his sure sounds impressive.” Aunt Sally held up a white blouse, then hung it back on the rack. Her lashes, thick with mascara, reached for her eyebrows. “Later this summer, girls, we should plan a road trip. I’ve always wanted to see Shedd Aquarium, Miracle Mile, Navy Pier. Eat Chicago pizza...”

  Libby lowered her chin and stabbed Aunt Sally with a lethal glare. “Um, that’s in Chicago, Aunt Sally.”

  “I know.”

  Libby hitched her chin to Claire. “By the way, thanks a lot for bringing Jake’s brother to church. Where is your loyalty? You know how I feel right now.”

  “We’re not in second grade, Libs. Reed’s become a good friend. And he hasn’t had the easiest of times.” It still bothered her he hadn’t spent much time with his dad. The ice cream outing had loosened them up, but they needed more time together if they were ever going to work through their issues.

  “Well, I haven’t either,” Libby said. “First the tornado, and then we couldn’t reschedule the wedding and now my former fiancé hates me. I wish you’d be more supportive.”

  A fifty-pound weight landed in Claire’s gut. “I am supportive. I love you, and it’s eating me up that you’re miserable. I want nothing more than for you and Jake to get back together.”

  “We aren’t getting back together, and I’d appreciate it if you thought about my feelings once in a while. When I look at Reed, I see all the things about Jake I miss.”

  Sally snapped her gum. “Maybe that’s a good thing, toots.”

  Claire suppressed a smile at Aunt Sally’s fearlessness. “Have you talked to Jake at all?”

  “No.” Libby’s chin rose as her lower lip wobbled. “I called him yesterday and left a message. He didn’t call back. It’s obvious he’s moved on. I must not be very important to him.”

  Moved on? Based on one unreturned message? Claire focused on a summery dress in cornflower blue. Short sleeves, full skirt, not too long.

  A twinge of jealousy pierced her. All she had with Reed was one kiss and a shared desire to rebuild the town. Not the same as what Libby had with Jake. Not by miles.

  “I’ve been replaying the last months over and over in my mind—” Libby pointed to her head “—it’s like a DVD on autoplay up there. You know the truck Jake bought in March? Didn’t even discuss it with me. Our honeymoon? Slapped the plans together—honestly, I wouldn’t have minded Maine—it just hurt he didn’t bother to find out my opinion. And then his relentless pushing to get married on Labor Day...ugh.”

  “I didn’t know that.” A dull ache spread over Claire’s chest. Why had she put most of the blame on Libby for the breakup? Shouldn’t sisters give each other the benefit of the doubt?

  “I...” Libby’s throat worked. “I tried to overcompensate by demanding what I wanted, but now he thinks I’m a spoiled brat. Maybe I am. I’m not the right girl for him.”

  “Sounds to me like you need to clear things up,” Aunt Sally said. “Go over and talk to the boy.”

  “I can’t, Aunt Sally.” Libby slung four shirts over her arm.

  “Do you love him?” Sally rested her hand on a display.

  “Yes,” Libby said.

  “Did he beat you?”

  Libby pursed her lips. “Come on, you know Jake better than that. He would never lay a hand on me.”

  “Did you catch him cheating?”

  Now Libby looked dumbfounded. “No! He would never cheat on me.”

  “He swore at you.” Sally lifted her index finger. “Got rip-roaring drunk, didn’t he?”

  “No and no.”

  “Doesn’t want kids? Already has a wife? Doesn’t believe in God anymore?”

  “Stop.” Libby straightened her free arm with her palm out. The hangers dangling from her other arm jingled. “You know none of that is true.”

  Aunt Sally raised herself to her full height. “Then get the wedding back on. Apologize. Talk like adults.”

  Claire didn’t try to hide her fascination with the scene playing out before her. She’d always admired Aunt Sally, but the woman had risen to heroic proportions just now.

  Libby wilted, and she switched the hangers to her other arm. “I don’t think I can.”

  “You’re one of the gutsiest girls I know, Libby Sheffield. You have it in you to get Jake back.” Aunt Sally folded her arms over her chest.

  “What if I make him miserable?” Her watery eyes widened. “What if marrying him makes me miserable?”

  Aunt Sally took a step toward Libby. “Honey, you’re already miserable. I think you’re making a mistake. Marry the boy. He loves you. We all know it. He’s not always going to do things your way—no man does. And if you found one who would, well, he wouldn’t make you happy. Jake’s your equal. Let him be
the man you need him to be, and everything else will fall into place.”

  Claire held her breath, trying to memorize the words, stunned by her aunt’s perception. The shirts slipped from Libby’s hands to the floor.

  “I know you’re hurting and confused, Libby, but think about it.” Aunt Sally drew Libby to her and they held each other a minute.

  Claire waited until they stepped apart, and she put her arm around Aunt Sally’s shoulder. “What would we do without you?”

  Sally’s eyes grew misty. “Aw, I love you girls. You’re like my own. I always wanted a girl, although I love my boys too. I’m glad you never mind me shopping with you.”

  Libby sniffled, her face blotchy. “You’re our favorite shopping partner, right, Claire?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Look at us, a bunch of teary sad sacks.” Sally sniffled, then patted Libby’s cheek. “The only time we cry in a store is during bathing suit season, and we already did that last month.”

  Libby bent to pick up the hangers and shirts. “I’m going to try these on.”

  “Retail therapy,” Sally said. “Works every time.”

  As Libby headed to the dressing rooms, Aunt Sally turned to Claire. “So, what do you say about that road trip?”

  Claire pretended to be enamored with a display of socks. Long socks. Ankle socks. Striped...

  “Well?” Aunt Sally drew the word out.

  Claire groaned and raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Maybe next year.”

  “Next year?” she asked. “How about soon? Before fall.”

  “He hasn’t even left.” Claire shrugged. “He’ll want to get back to his life.”

  “Have you ever thought about fitting into his life?”

  Claire squirmed. It was great when Aunt Sally leveled Libby with the truth, but having her intuition skewer her? “I don’t see that happening.”

  “Just because you took a chance once and it didn’t work out the way you planned doesn’t mean you have to live here forever. If you love him, you can make it work. Now I’m going to the petite section. The apple-green top over there is calling my name.”

  Love him? Love? Aunt Sally must have started watching the afternoon soap operas again. Claire didn’t love Reed.

  She liked him. Enjoyed their conversations. Thought he was attractive in a “get the heart paddles, women are collapsing” sort of way. Might be tempted to kiss him again.

  Stop thinking about him!

  She pushed a sweatshirt out of the way.

  And not live in Lake Endwell? That was crazy talk. Claire wasn’t leaving. Couldn’t leave. Who would be there for Libby? Her brothers? The otters? They were her life. She wasn’t moving away from them. Not for anything.

  Especially not for the flightiest thing of all.

  Love.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Reed slowly progressed to the dock, where the entire Sheffield clan busied themselves erecting a white tent and setting up tables, chairs and coolers. The pristine green lawn surrounded by shrubs and flowers—big purple and blue hydrangeas, Sally called them—could have been a photograph in a magazine. Yesterday morning while he and Dale checked on the restaurant’s tile installation, Claire had planted red, white and blue pinwheels all around his yard.

  Well, it wasn’t his yard—just his for another week or so. But the infamous Fourth of July party had arrived, which meant he had to share Claire today. With her family. Half the town.

  But not Jake.

  At church on Sunday, Libby had made it clear she resented any Hamilton presence in her vicinity. Reed’s skin had practically burned from the scorching glares she’d sent him. He doubted Jake would be invited to the festivities. Reed hadn’t had the heart to ask him about it, though.

  Last night, at Reed’s request, Jake had stopped by. The short sentences Reed got out of him weren’t much better than the sorrowful sag of his face. Jake had to snap out of it, and soon.

  Maybe he should support his brother and skip the Sheffield shindig. Go over to Jake’s instead.

  But he’d miss Claire.

  At some point, he’d have to get used to the sensation.

  Problem was, he didn’t want to. In fact, everything inside him wanted to stay. To flirt. To see her smile, eat barbecue next to her, sneak a kiss under the fireworks.

  “What do you think of the tile we picked out, Reed?” Sally bustled to him, wiping her hands on the back of her tight denim shorts. She wore long star-shaped earrings that sparkled as she moved. Naturally, she gave him a hug.

  “Looks great.” He tried not to sneeze at her overpowering floral body spray. “You’ll have no trouble meeting your reopening date. You throwing a party for it?”

  She looked at him as if he’d grown an extra arm. “What kind of question is that? Of course we’re throwing a party! And we expect you to be there. Two weeks from Saturday.”

  “I might be in Denver.”

  “You can make it back. We’ll dish up the best fish fry you ever tasted.” She scanned the yard. “Oh, Claire, Claire! Look who’s here. Reed!”

  “It’s not a surprise, Aunt Sally. He is staying at the cottage.” Claire approached, her arms laden with bags of plastic silverware and napkins. He tried not to stare but couldn’t help himself.

  “I know,” Sally said. “But he’s on those doggone crutches and needs someone to keep him company. Come over here.”

  “I am over here.”

  “Well...” For once, Sally was at a loss for words. “I’d better check on the food. Is Jake coming? I called him earlier and told him he’d better get his buns to the cottage or I would drag him myself.”

  Reed blinked and then frowned. Had Libby and Jake gotten back together in the wee hours of the morning or something?

  “If Libby isn’t the right girl for him, fine,” Sally continued. “But he needs to get out. Celebrating our nation’s independence will be good for him.”

  Claire nodded. “I agree.”

  Reed’s mouth dropped open as he glanced at Sally, then Claire, then back at Sally. They meant it. They wanted Jake there. Whether he and Libby were a couple or not.

  The concept didn’t add up. Like a broken circuit or a doorway without steps leading to it, he couldn’t make sense of it.

  He’d been sure Jake would be shunned. It was how the world worked.

  Or maybe...

  Maybe it was just how his world worked.

  “Come on.” Claire transferred the silverware into Sally’s hands, grabbed Reed’s shirt and tugged. “You can help me put the potato salad in bowls.”

  He set the crutches in motion to follow her up the ramp to the upper deck and inside. The kitchen remained empty except for the counter full of potato chips, buns, pickle jars and packages of sparklers.

  “I’m happy you’re here to celebrate this with us, Reed.”

  He couldn’t stop the ticker tape of questions rolling through. Such as, why was she happy? They’d spent their usual time making calls and driving to job sites each afternoon, but she’d made plans Monday night with Libby, and he’d gone to her brothers’ house on Tuesday.

  Would she still be happy when he left? Was he like a spare family member—similar to an adopted distant cousin—to be included in the picnic? Or was he more?

  He wanted to be more.

  His gaze skimmed her shiny, dark hair. The smattering of freckles the sun had coaxed to her nose. Her slim legs peeking out from underneath her shorts. The white tank top with glittery pink lettering that spelled out Peace, Love and Hipponess.

  Which reminded him...

  “Wait right here. I have something for you.” He clopped to the bedroom and rummaged through his closet until he found the box FedEx had delivered yesterday. He returned to the kitchen.

&nbs
p; “What’s this?” She accepted the package with a questioning glance.

  “Open it and see.” He grinned. She was going to love it. It was all Claire.

  She slid out the heather-gray T-shirt, unfolded it and laughed. “Otterly Adorable?”

  “I saw it and couldn’t resist.”

  Grinning, she held it to her chest, and he gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Perfect,” she said. “Or wait, ‘Otterly Adorable.’ I love it!” She closed the distance between them, wriggled her arms over his shoulders and hugged him. He inhaled coconuts and held her tightly.

  He didn’t want to let her go.

  Ever.

  Her face tipped up and he lost all thoughts except how much he wanted to kiss her. How those exotic eyes hypnotized him. How Claire Sheffield had come to dominate his thoughts. Day and night.

  He lowered his head, ready to capture her lips...

  “Oh! Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Claire lurched back, a blush rising to her cheeks. “You weren’t interrupting, Aunt Sally. Reed was just...um...look at my cute shirt.” She held the shirt up, and Sally grinned, nodding at supersonic speed.

  “Ooh, nice, it’s you. Now, let me get the matches and I’ll be out of here. Then you two can go back to...whatever you were doing.” She gave them a sly look, whisked the box of matches from the drawer and sauntered back outside.

  “Oh, my word. That was so embarrassing.” Claire slumped, resting her hand against the counter.

  “Kind of like getting caught by Mom.”

  “Exactly.” She giggled, lifting her hand to her mouth. “You and I never had the chance to get caught by our moms, though, did we?”

  Her humor ignited his, and he chuckled. “No. I guess that’s one good thing, right?”

  She grew more serious. “Aunt Sally stepped into the role for Libby and me. We’re pretty blessed.”

  He touched her hair, letting it slide through his fingers. “It’s funny, but Sally kind of stepped into the role for me since I’ve been here. She’s something.”

  “She is,” Claire said.

  The sliding door opened, and Libby stalked inside. “There you are.” She popped a hand on each hip as lasers blasted from her tired eyes. “Who invited Jake?”