Always My Hero (11 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Decuir

BOOK: Always My Hero
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Chapter 8

Skirting the bucket parked below the biggest leak in the roof, Bree put away the books she had chosen for story time for the three-year-old crowd. She gathered up the puppets and the felt board. Grinning, she gave the cap on the bubble solution an extra twist before replacing it in her desk drawer. It was hard to sit still for so long when you were three. They deserved the little dance party she threw at the end of story time.

It was getting close to lunchtime and Bree was meeting Cady at the coffee shop to drive around and visit the last few potential recruits for the calendar. She stopped off in the stacks to pick up a book she and Wesley had been discussing the other day.

On impulse, she also grabbed a copy of
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
for Ryan. She’d told him he couldn’t expect to connect with Wesley by watching the abbreviated movie-versions of the books, but she was still doing him a disservice by offering him the Cliff Notes version in her lessons. It was high time he give the series a try. And from there, she had a few more she thought they both would enjoy.

She put the books for both Wesley and Ryan in her large tote bag that held all her notes for the fundraiser. She’d been up late the night before, inputting schedules for everyone who had gotten back to her so far, including the photographer, who had put his own project on hold to work on the calendar. Bree had tried to insist that they could wait, or work around his own schedule, but she seemed to have had him at ‘shirtless male models’.

Waving to Martha and promising to be in touch via text, Bree headed down the library steps to the rock salt crusted sidewalk. She’d try to sneak in a few minutes of work at Cady’s Dream, before they left to meet with another potential model. Her spreadsheet of calendar details was filling up exponentially.

Calves bared to the biting chill of the late January air, Bree burrowed further into her wool coat. Her old peasant skirts had covered her to the ankle and swirled when she walked. These new pencil skirts, though stylish, took a bit to get used to in the maneuvering department. Sitting on the floor with the children during story time was...interesting, to say the least.

The new skinny jeans that Cady had insisted she buy were her secret favorite. Not a single man at Ryan’s football party had passed up an opportunity to look their fill. While she wasn’t used to the attention, she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. And if Ryan’s attention, in particular, caused her stomach to do backflips, who was she to argue?

Ryan. Bree was proud of herself for gathering her nerve and confronting him with the question that had bothered her ever since he’d taken her heart with him to California. Though the answer she received was not one she’d expected, nor was his request for a second chance.

All of the changes she’d made, all of the progress. It was supposed to have been a means of moving forward, getting on with her life and leaving the past behind. She wanted her happy ever after, just like her friends. The more time she spent with Ryan and Wesley, the more she understood that no one else would do. Her love for Ryan Pettridge was her past, her present, and would continue to be her future. But would he stay in Scallop Shores for her?

They couldn’t hope to have any kind of honest relationship unless she was willing to tell him the whole truth about that night. About the baby they had made and she had eventually lost. And Bree had vowed never to burden Ryan with the kind of pain she’d carried alone all these years. Oh, it would have been so easy to tell him yesterday. The opportunity had been right there. But she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready.

“Hey there. Grab a seat. Have you eaten?” Cady waved from behind the cash register as Bree stepped into the coffee shop.

“Aren’t we headed out?” Maybe she had time to match models to background ideas, tab number three of her ever-expanding spreadsheet.

“Yeah, but I’m waiting for my slave labor to arrive to finish out my shift. And I repeat, have you eaten?” Hands on her hips, Cady lifted a perfectly shaped brow.

“Not since early this morning. But don’t worry about it. I’ll have seconds for dinner, okay, Mother?” She stuck out her tongue.

“Sit. Eat.”

The timing was eerie as Cady swept around the counter with a flourish, depositing a toasted ham and cheese panini on a table near the window. She pulled the chair out for her friend and refused to budge until Bree was settled. The smell of the wheat toast and the thickly sliced Vermont cheddar had her mouth watering and, to her embarrassment, her stomach rumbling.

“Uh huh. Exactly what I thought. Bree, I swear you need a keeper.”

“And I suppose you know just the man?”

“Man? Who said the keeper had to be a man?” Cady turned her back, but not before Bree caught the twinkle in her eye.

The bell over the door to the coffee shop cut their conversation short. Burke Sanders, Cady’s new husband, walked in, not stopping until he had scooped his wife up in a fiery kiss that had the shop regulars hooting their approval. A light bulb went off in Bree’s head and she let out a startled laugh.

“Hey Burke, before you don that gorgeous pink apron, would you join me for a minute?” She patted the chair beside her.

“Omigosh, why did I not even think of him?” Cady looked from her husband to Bree and back again.

“Quiet, missy. You get him all to yourself most of the time. Now is my turn to borrow him.”

Burke looked decidedly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking. Sitting down beside Bree, he reached out and snatched a potato chip from her plate. The look on his face was unrepentant and she narrowed her eyes. Fine, let’s see how cocky he felt when stripped down to his abs in an embarrassing photo shoot.

“I need your body. Well, at least I think I do. Kind of hard to tell beneath that jacket.” She didn’t normally talk like this, but the man was starting to blush.

“Oh yeah, you want his body. Trust me.” Cady licked her lips and widened her eyes.

“Call 911. I think someone has kidnapped Bree and left an imposter in her place.” Burke pushed his chair back from the table and gave his wife a hard look. “And you? What the hell? I’m not into threesomes.”

At that the women could no longer contain their mirth. Cady laughed so hard she snorted, which made her laugh even more. Eyes streaming and stomach cramping from her own laughter, Bree tried not to fall out of her chair as Burke eyed them both like they were a couple of escaped lunatics.

Once she could finally breathe again, she explained the fundraiser and why, exactly, she needed Burke’s body. He’d drawn in on himself and she knew he wanted to tell her no. Interesting. While the ex-football players in Ryan’s living room had preened and postured, Burke looked very ill at ease. Who knew Cady’s man was such a shy guy?

“I don’t really have a choice in this, do I?”

“You know it’s the right thing to do.” Her lips curled up at the corners as she reminded him, with only a look, of all the things she did to help him win Cady over.

“Fine. But I get to choose the background and it’s not going to be lewd or lascivious.”

“I promise it will be tasteful and aboveboard. Or as much as that can be when one is half-clothed.” Bree stood up and carried her half-eaten sandwich to the small kitchen behind the counter.

As Burke wrapped a Cady’s Dream apron around his waist, both women snuck up and left a different colored lipstick kiss on each cheek.

“Oh, that would be perfect! The lipstick is just the right touch. Minus the shirt, I’m thinking. How about you?” Bree turned to Cady for her opinion.

“Just the apron. And if you want to sell extra copies, a view from the back too.”

“Out! Both of you, get out of here before I change my mind.”

They took Cady’s pickup truck to their first stop. Bree had actually never been out to her friend Shannon’s place before. While Shannon and her triplets had been frequent visitors to story time at the library, they weren’t as close as Cady and Bree were. Shannon and the children used to live in the caretaker’s cottage next door, but once she married Dean Patterson, she moved into the ex-boy band singer’s stunning showplace overlooking the harbor.

It was the middle of the week and Dean should have been at the elementary school, where he was now the music teacher. They had planned to drop by his classroom during a free period but Shannon had texted to let her know he was home with a cold. Armed with a container of Cady’s homemade chicken noodle soup, the friends rang the doorbell.

Dean answered the door in a pair of navy blue sweatpants and nothing else. His blond hair was adorably rumpled and his poor nose was red and chapped. Eyeing them blearily, he stepped back to let them in. Before he could say a word, he was wracked with a nasty coughing fit.

Pressing the back of her hand against his forehead, Bree tsked. They shouldn’t have come.

“You poor baby. Shannon told us you weren’t feeling well. We should have rescheduled. Since we’re already here, why don’t we get you settled on the couch with some of Cady’s amazing chicken soup? Then we’ll get out of your hair. You can give me a call when you feel better.”

“It’s just a stupid cold. I’ll be fine. Though I won’t say no to a little spoiling, since Shannon isn’t here to make me feel better.” He was going for cheerful, Bree was sure, but the poor guy looked purely miserable.

She directed Cady to heat up some of the soup and ushered Dean through the marble foyer and back to his little nest on the couch. She lifted the trash can, overflowing with used tissues, and carried it into the kitchen.

“I feel terrible imposing on him like this. He should be asleep.”

“But did you see those abs? Sign that man up! Do it while he’s under the influence of cold meds and doesn’t know enough to say no.”

“You are positively evil.”

“Come on, Bree. The abs?”

Cady was right. Dean Patterson did have spectacular chest muscles. She would be doing the women of Scallop Shores a favor by making sure he was part of the calendar. A summer month, she was thinking. Something on the beach. With a surfboard? It’d suit his coloring.

They returned to the ailing ex-boy band singer, fawning over him since his wife couldn’t be there to take care of him herself. Bree brought him a fresh box of tissues from the hall bathroom. Cady set him up with a tray of soup, crackers, and some mint tea.

Before she could lose her nerve, Bree plunged in, telling Dean about the library roof and the board’s unorthodox method of raising the funds needed for repairs. Between coughing jags and pauses to blow his nose, he nodded his understanding.

“Well, it’s not like I’m any stranger to photo shoots. I could probably help the other guys out too. It’s actually kinda hard having people you don’t know look at you like a piece of meat. If you aren’t used to it, it can be pretty intimidating.”

Lowering her gaze to her toes, lest he believe she’d been taking another peek at his chest, she blushed. Because she hadn’t peeked. Okay, maybe just a bit. Good grief. This calendar was going to kill her. Twelve hot men with no shirts on. Bulging biceps. Rippling abs. Soulful brown eyes and a touch of stubble. Somehow twelve men had morphed into one in particular. And he looked suspiciously like the one who lived right next door to her.

“Bree? I was saying we should thank Dean for his time and let him get some rest.”

“Huh? Yes, thank you so much for helping me out, Dean. For helping us out. The library. The fundraiser.” Yeah. Time to leave.

Her cheeks felt flushed and she was fairly certain that if she used the thermometer on the coffee table beside Dean, she’d find her temperature a few degrees higher than normal. Ignoring the smirk on Cady’s face, Bree covered Dean with a light blanket (something she should have done from the beginning, in retrospect) and led the way to the front door.

“The Board thinks Ryan is the coup de grace for this calendar, and I do have to admit I’m more than a tad biased, but having Dean attached to this project is going to be a huge hit,” Bree ruminated, once they were back on the road.

“I wonder how many women in town had Five of Hearts posters hanging over their beds when they were teenagers.” The soft smile on Cady’s face was nostalgic.

“Uh huh. Don’t you mean, how many
other
women?” Bree giggled.

“I still can’t believe I served that man coffee for months and never realized he was a freakin’ celebrity!”

“And now I get to see him pose without his shirt. Have I thanked you, yet, for giving Martha such a fabulous idea?”

The two friends laughed as they drove back into town.

• • •

“Just so we’re clear, we aren’t committing to anything by putting the store up for sale, right? It’s just a trial run, to see what the market is like. My parents are on the fence right now.” More like he needed to do a little more in the way of convincing them that this was for the best.

Ryan followed the Realtor down the aisles, trying to look over the man’s shoulder as he stopped to jot down notes. He’d meant to do this days ago but had got caught up in helping Bree plan her calendar shoot. He wasn’t procrastinating … much.

“You’re looking to sell the hardware store because your father will no longer be able to run it, is that right?”

“Well, yes. But I’d have to get a damned good price for it, for them. This is their nest egg. Their future.”

“And there is absolutely no chance you’d want to run it for them?” Toby Horace had lived next door to Ryan’s folks for as long as he could remember. He was the only Realtor in town that his father would entrust to put his store on the market.

Until the other day, he wouldn’t have even given it a thought. Now, after asking Bree for another chance, the idea of selling the hardware store and rushing back to his lonely condo in California held surprisingly little appeal. Sure, he could say it was in Wesley’s best interest, but was it?

At his parents’ house last night for dinner, his mother had told him the visiting nurses reported a marked improvement in his dad’s health since he and Wesley had come home. He was happier, less irritable over things he couldn’t control. He would never be able to run his business again, but if his old man could have a quality of life that let him enjoy himself and just relax, Ryan would be happy.

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