Her Second Chance Dream Groom

by Emma St Clair

  But last night he struggled to sleep with his thoughts swirling around everything that happened the day before. He slipped on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before walking into the hall. The smell of bacon was even stronger out here and his stomach growled loudly. He made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He wasn’t going to see Amy for the first time today sporting morning breath. Even if he didn’t get close enough for her to notice. After last night, she seemed to want to keep her distance.

  Sy gripped the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection. He needed to shave, and his eyes had dark circles under them. He had always been the kind of guy who needed a lot of sleep and it clearly showed in his face this morning.

  He should feel more at peace, or at least relieved. Two more apologies down. Mrs. Winters had been gracious, which surprised him. The incident at prom had been such a poor display. Parents weren’t always so forgiving when it came to their children being hurt. Sy leaving Delia dateless for her senior prom should have been cause for Sy to be blacklisted. Instead, the whole family welcomed him.

  Then there was Delia.

  Sy had been completely unprepared for her reaction to him. In a hot minute she went from furious to fawning. It felt fake. Whatever he had felt for Delia back in the day had clearly faded. He knew that the moment he saw her face. Her behavior only made the whole thing more uncomfortable.

  What Sy hated the most was the tension it set up between him and Amy. As he lumbered down the stairs, following the smell of bacon to the kitchen, he hoped that he could clear the air with Amy. She hadn’t let him explain that he had no desire to be with Delia. The fact that Amy seemed to care so much gave him a sliver of hope that she might return his feelings. Or would the fact that her sister had thrown herself at him be a deal-breaker?

  When he pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, Amy didn’t hear or see him. She stood at the counter off to the right, barefoot and with her hair in a low ponytail. Sy stood watching her profile for a few moments. Humming along to music, Amy’s hips swayed as she whisked eggs in a bowl.

  An ache formed in Sy’s chest. This moment was so simple, so real, so beautiful. Amy was beautiful.

  Sy constantly had attractive women surrounding him. From the cheerleaders that were a near-constant fixture around the team to the women who showed up at events, hoping to land a player, Sy had seen his fair share of women who could grace a runway or a magazine cover. None of those women could hold a candle to the raw beauty that Amy held without even trying. It was like she had something inside that radiated out of her, lighting up her features and drawing Sy toward her in a way he couldn’t resist. He sucked in a breath.

  Amy jumped, and the eggs sloshed in the bowl. She fumbled with it but did not drop it as she spun to face him. “Sy! You scared me! How long have you been standing there?” She set down the bowl and put a hand to her heart.

  “Long enough to work up an appetite.” Sy grinned, waiting to see if any of the tension from the night before had eased.

  After a moment, she smiled back. Sy perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Okay if I watch? Or is that against the rules of a bed and breakfast?”

  “Usually the kitchen is a no-guest zone, hence the door. But since you rented out the whole place, you get special privileges.”

  “Like an all-access pass?”

  “Almost.” She gave him another smile as she dumped the bowl of eggs into a pan. “Everywhere but my bedroom. Um, not that you’d try to go into my bedroom.”

  It shouldn’t have, but somehow the mention of her bedroom filled the kitchen with a totally different kind of tension. Amy’s cheeks flushed. She turned her back to Sy, pulling out a cutting board and a few other items from the fridge. He searched for something to say but couldn’t drag his mind away from curiosity about her bedroom.

  He had peeked into the other rooms upstairs the day before and each had its own personality. What would Amy’s reveal about her? For a brief moment, he could almost picture Amy, sleepy with tousled hair, tangled in a comforter in the soft light of morning.

  Sy swallowed hard.

  “What do you like in your omelets? You do like omelets, I hope.”

  “Love them. Pretty much everything. Except raw onions.” Sy made a face. “I really only like cooked onions, but even cooked they’re a little too … something for the morning.”

  “Aggressive. The flavor is a little too aggressive for morning.”

  He chuckled. “That’s a good way to put it. So, do you get your cooking skills from your mom?”

  Amy threw back her head and laughed. She had to set the knife down that she was using to chop mushrooms. “No, definitely not. Thankfully.”

  “Why? Dinner last night was great. Didn’t she make it?”

  “Yes, she did. And yes, dinner was great. But that’s literally the only thing Mom makes. When we come to dinner, either Delia or I handle dinner, or Mom makes a roast. She’s a one-hit-wonder in the kitchen.”

  “Huh. That’s wild. How many hits do you have in the kitchen?”

  “I’ve got a pretty solid best hits album.”

  “Will I get to taste any besides breakfast this week?”

  “We’re a bed and breakfast, not a bed and dinner. But … maybe we can work something out.”

  Sy tapped a finger to his chin. “Maybe you could add dinner tonight to my tab.”

  “You’re racking up quite the list of charges there, Sy. But I think that could be arranged. I’ll just need to know what you like and don’t like.”

  “Or just share the list of your greatest hits and I can pick one or two.”

  “I draw the line at one dinner. You’re not a hobbit.”

  Sy laughed long and loudly, then gestured to his body. “Definitely not a hobbit. But I am a pro football player. We take in a lot of calories.”

  Amy tilted her head to the side, studying him. “Let’s see. With your height and weight, you should probably be taking in around 5,000 per day. Am I close?”

  “Shockingly close. My trainer recommends 5,600 for me during the season. During the off-season, it’s more like 3,500-4,000. How did you know that?”

  She tapped her temple. “I told you—I’m a stats girl.”

  Amy sprinkled cheese inside the omelet cooking in the pan, then put in chopped mushrooms, pieces of bacon she had broken up with her hands, and what looked like fresh spinach. She expertly flipped the omelet in the pan. A little egg leaked out of the omelet, sizzling against the pan. It looked and smelled amazing.

  Again, Sy’s stomach growled and he reached across to steal a piece of bacon from the plate. Amy smacked the back of his hand with her spatula. “Ow! You aren’t allowed to hit guests!”

  “I can when they’re stealing bacon. Maybe if you ask nicely …”

  Sy made his best pleading face, blinking up at Amy. “Please, could I have some bacon?”

  “Do you prefer crispy or still a little soft?”

  “Definitely crispy. Though I won’t turn away bacon of any kind.” Amy looked through the bacon strips, selecting a piece that looked well-done, just shy of burned, which was exactly how Sy liked it. She held it out and rather than taking it from her fingers, Sy grasped her wrist and then pulled the bacon directly from her hand with his teeth.

  Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks turned a little pink. She giggled, and Sy let go of her wrist, though he would have loved to hold on for just a little longer. The feel of her skin under his fingertips got his heart moving.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It’s perfect.”

  “You said it yourself—it’s hard to ruin bacon. Let’s see how I did with this omelet.” Amy plated the omelet, adding a few more strips of bacon to his plate for good measure. She passed it to him with a fork, smiling. “How do you take your coffee?”

  “Just black is fine. Are we eating here?”

  “We? Oh, you want me to eat with you?” Amy looked a little flustered.

  “Wasn’t that a perk of renti
ng out the whole place—breakfast with the owner?”

  Amy smiled. “If you want it to be, I’m sure I could arrange that.”

  “Please.” He patted the stool next to him. She only hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a mug of coffee and a few strips of bacon. She sat down beside him and again that scent of wildflowers wafted over to him. Their thighs brushed under the countertop. The moment suddenly started to feel very intimate.

  “Should we say a blessing? Or is that just something you do with your family?”

  Amy fidgeted. “I’m usually eating alone, so I do a silent one. If I remember. Do you want to say one?”

  Sy couldn’t remember the last time he said grace before a meal, especially not out loud. But he had loved it the night before, and not just because he got to hold Amy’s hand. It reminded him of his faith, something that he had long let slide into almost disuse. He hadn’t walked away so much as let it gather dust in a back closet of his heart.

  He held out his hand on the counter, palm up, just as he had the night before. And just like the night before, when Amy put her hand in his, Sy felt his skin heat where it connected with hers. A surge of attraction moved through his body, but also a sense of warm peace, like coming back somewhere that’s familiar.

  “Let’s pray. Lord, I, uh, thank you for this time. For old friends and omelets. Amen.”

  Sy felt his cheeks redden at the short and simple prayer. But the smile Amy gave him was brilliant. She squeezed his hand once before letting it go to pick up a strip of bacon. The first bite of his omelet had Sy wanting to moan. The melted cheese pulled together all the ingredients inside. It was seasoned perfectly and had that light, fluffy texture that he could never pull off when he tried cooking breakfast at home.

  “Amy, this is amazing. Thank you. I can’t wait for dinner.”

  She beamed. “Really? Good. I wanted it to be—” She stopped suddenly, and her face fell. “Oh. I forgot. I’ve got plans for dinner tonight.”

  The memory of the night before flooded Sy. “Right. You have a date?”

  She nodded, not looking at Sy. An irrational sense of jealousy made him feel like any moment, his eyes were going to start twitching.

  “Yeah. Not like I want to go.” Amy sighed.

  “So, why are you?”

  “Delia signed me up for this dating app.”

  A chill moved through him at Delia’s name and he could see the way Amy visibly started to stiffen.

  “I didn’t want to do it, but she insisted, so here I am. Delia tends to get what she wants.” She shrugged and looked down at her coffee.

  “I’ve seen how persuasive she can be.” Pushy is what he wanted to say. Delia was more than just persuasive. Amy’s mouth dipped down and she continued staring into her coffee mug. Sy put down his fork and touched Amy’s arm. “Hey, Ames.”

  “Yeah?”

  Sy drew in a deep breath. He didn’t know if Amy even cared, but if he was going to have any chance with her, she needed to understand that he wasn’t into her sister. At all.

  “Just to clear the air—I’m not dating Delia and I don’t plan on it. Last night? That was all her. I was trying to politely shut it down, but it was hard to do without being rude. Any feelings on my side are all in the past.”

  “Oh, okay.” She fidgeted with her coffee cup, but Sy thought he caught a small smile on her face. It disappeared quickly. “As long as Delia knows that.”

  Sy definitely needed to take care of that. Otherwise, Delia might be picking out engagement rings or something. “I’ll make sure she does. My subtle hints didn’t go over so well last night.”

  Amy giggled. “Nope. I missed them too. Maybe a little too subtle. Delia on the other hand—subtlety is not her jam.”

  “No, it’s not. Guess I should learn something there. I’ll work on that next time.”

  Sy didn’t want to work on his subtlety to let Delia know he wasn’t interested. He wanted to tell Amy that he was. He wanted to ask her to cancel her date tonight and go out with him instead. The idea of her going out with another guy sent scorching waves of jealousy through him. She hadn’t seemed interested in these dates. Maybe if he asked her to dinner, she’d cancel the plans.

  The words were almost on his tongue, but then he chickened out. It felt like too much, too far, too soon. He got another idea instead. Yeah, it was more in that subtle category. But that was more his speed.

  “If you’re going to go on dates this week, you need someone to vet your prospects. Clearly—and no offense here—Delia cannot be trusted.”

  “Clearly.” She rolled her eyes but was smiling.

  “I volunteer to be your blind-date vetter. Were you meeting these guys somewhere or were they coming here?”

  “I was planning to meet them. That way, if things didn’t go well, I could always run out to my car and make a grand escape.”

  Sy laughed. “That’s genius. But how about we switch it up? Have them meet you here. Only, I’ll meet them first.” He shot her a wicked grin and now she laughed, knocking her shoulder into his.

  “You’ll scare them off! They’ll take one look at you and go running.”

  “If that’s the case, they didn’t deserve you anyway. But if they stay, that’s a point for them. But they’ll know that you have a very protective guy looking out for you and it will keep them on their best behavior.”

  Amy got quiet and Sy sensed a shift in her mood. He leaned closer, trying to gauge the expression on her face. She was looking down, her short hair forming a curtain that blocked her features from him.

  “Ames?”

  She looked up and her tear-streaked face sent a heavy wave of emotion through her. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Hey, you okay? I’m sorry—forget my idea. It was stupid.”

  “No, it wasn’t stupid.”

  She sniffed and buried her face in his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. Sy loved the feel of her in his arms, but hated the tears that she was clearly fighting as she shuddered against him.

  “What is it? You can tell me.”

  “It’s just …” Her hands clutched at the material of his shirt and Sy settled his chin on her head, drawing her even closer. “This is something my dad would have done if he were still here. He always wanted to get the chance.”

  Sy knew she had lost her father in the past few years, but he didn’t know the details or even how he’d heard. Maybe from Elton or Easton?

  “Oh, Ames. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. He’d be glad that you’re here to do it.”

  “Are you sure about that? I didn’t have the greatest track record with your parents.”

  “They were never really mad. None of us knew what Derek did, but knowing him, he probably deserved it. Dad always loved you.”

  That thought warmed Sy’s heart, even as it broke a little for Amy. He didn’t get to see his family as often as he liked now, but he couldn’t imagine losing his dad. Amy had been through so much with the years of cancer treatments. It didn’t seem fair that she’d lost her father so young too. Sy didn’t have any words, so he didn’t offer any. Instead, he just held her close until he felt her hands release his shirt and her body start to relax. He loosened his grip on her, but kept a steadying hand on her back as she leaned back over to her stool.

  Amy looked up at him, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. Things usually don’t get this heavy over breakfast here at the B&B. I’m being a terrible hostess.”

  “Are you kidding? You made the best omelet I’ve ever had! Actually, I don’t remember the last time someone else made me breakfast.”

  Her eyes went wide and he could see a teasing glint in them. “You cook?”

  “Oh, no. I don’t make my own food. We eat a lot at the training center during the season. And I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I have a personal chef.”

  “Hey, you can be a diva all you want. Your body cuts your paychecks and you’ve got to keep
that thing fed.” She patted his biceps and Sy couldn’t help the urge to flex. She giggled and drew her hand back. “But you said you didn’t remember someone making you breakfast. Does your chef not make you breakfast too?”

  “He does. I mean, normally, he just makes food for the week and then labels things and leaves them in the fridge. Technically, a person does make my food. I just don’t see him. And it’s different having a breakfast that someone you … um, know makes it. So, thank you.”

  What Sy wanted to say was “someone you like.” The word almost fell from his lips. And maybe it would have sounded innocent to her. But it felt anything but. Because Sy really did like Amy. More and more every minute he spent with her.

  “You’re welcome. What I didn’t tell you was that here at the B&B, the person who doesn’t make breakfast does the dishes.”

  “Really?”

  She laughed and again, slapped a palm over his arm. He had the urge to place his hand over hers, holding her there, but he fought it off.

  “No, dummy. I wouldn’t make guests do dishes. Why don’t you get out of here and go about your business for the day? Any big plans?”

  Amy tried to grab his plate, but Sy was too fast. He took her plate as well and zipped over to the sink. “No plans. Can you put me to work around here? After I finish these dishes, I mean.”

  “Sy, you don’t have to do that. I can’t let you. Scoot.”

  She joined him at the sink and tried to bump him out of the way with her hip. With her height, her hipbone landed on his upper thigh. He didn’t budge and she stumbled back a little. Sy laughed.

  “You think you can take me on, Short Stuff? No way, no how.”

  “Ugh. Fine. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You bring me the dishes and I’ll wash. Then maybe just sit down and enjoy your coffee. You look like you could use a break. Tell me more about running this place.”