Always My Hero (12 page)

“Nah. I’m a numbers guy, it turns out. Who knew, huh?”

“So I’ve heard.” The man set aside his clipboard for a moment. “Your dad spoke very highly of you, you know.”

“About what?” Ryan turned to face the shelf nearest him, making sure everything was tidy and pulled forward, even though it was already neat as a pin.

“His son, the accountant. Making a life for yourself on the other side of the country.”

“It’s not exactly glamorous. Certainly not compared to a career in the NFL.”

“I don’t think he cares one way or the other if you ended up in football, son. But you struck out on your own. You went to UCLA. You got a degree. Did a sight more than your pop ever did.”

“Dad never went to college? I didn’t realize.”

“His father owned this store before he did. Sure, he took a few business courses here and there, but mostly learned the ropes right at his dad’s elbow.”

Ryan paused. He’d had his eye on a career in football from the time he was about ten years old. It wasn’t something that he had ever discussed with his father. It was just a given. And his dad had been behind him one hundred percent. They never talked about him taking over the hardware store one day.

Then after his accident he’d been too ashamed to come back to Scallop Shores, to face the people that he’d let down. Thinking back, Ryan realized it was his own father he’d let down the most. In selfishly putting his own dreams first, he didn’t even think about what his father might want for him, or of the legacy that the man would have to let go because he had no one to pass it down to.

“Maybe this was a mistake. I can’t sell his store on him.” He shook his head, running a hand jerkily through his hair.

“Hey, let’s not be hasty, son. Give it a test run. You know you don’t want to run it. You know he can’t. At least get some money for it and give your old man the retirement he deserves, huh?”

He jotted a few more notes down and clipped his pen back on the sturdy board he’d been writing on.

“Give me a few weeks, see what I can come up with. If we don’t get a nibble, then we’ll try to come up with some other ideas. I’ll be in touch.” The Realtor pulled at the brim of his hat and nodded as he headed for the door.

Ryan ground his palms into his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for a decent night’s sleep! He eyed the ancient coffee maker in the office, debating whether or not it was worth the energy to make a pot. He didn’t normally need a caffeine fix at this time of day, but a little jolt sure would do wonders.

The bus would be dropping Wesley off any time now. Where had the day gone? Yeah, if he was going to help the kid with his homework, he needed a shot of something. Slapping at his cheeks, he stumbled down the aisle and into his dad’s office to start a pot.

His old man was proud of him. For being an accountant. Go figure. He supposed running the hardware store would be somewhat gratifying if he got to do his own books. That is, if he never got an offer, or one worth accepting.

“Dad, Dad! Guess what? I got invited to join the chess team at school. It meets on Tuesdays and Allen said his mom could drop me off here on their way home.”

Wesley blew in like a hurricane, tossing his backpack just inside the door of the store as he charged past the empty counter.

“Whoa, take a breath, little man. What’s this about a chess club? And who is Allen?”

“It was so cold out that they let people stay in from recess if they wanted today. So I hung out at the school library. There was a group of kids playing chess and they asked me if I wanted to play. They’re really nice. And Allen is in my class.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the drip of coffee filling the small carafe. Wesley watched him, expectantly. His eyes were shining with excitement. Ryan swallowed down the urge to shout out in victory.

His kid had made a friend. By the sound of it, a whole group of friends. Forget that it was chess, another activity that he never would have considered when he was his son’s age. The boy was stepping out of his walled off shell.

“Let’s sign you up then.”

“Sweet! I have the permission slip in my bag.” The kid’s huge grin was contagious.

Wesley ran off to retrieve his backpack, which had Ryan sighing in relief. He had been about to reach out to pull his son in for a hug, and he was fairly certain he wouldn’t have stopped until there were some touchy-feely words thrown in and maybe a tear or two. Chalking it up to being overtired, he doctored a mug of coffee with some powdered creamer and half a packet of sweetener and took a big sip.

“Bree’s here, Dad. She’s walking up the sidewalk.”

Aw shit. The source of his sleep deprivation, and while he was having a particularly emotional day to boot. Ryan pasted on a smile and carried his mug with him to the counter in the center of the store just as Bree pushed open the door and breezed in. A sweet floral scent teased his nostrils and he stifled a groan.

“Hey, Wes, how was school?” She put an arm around the boy’s slight shoulders and gave him a quick hug.

“Awesome. I’m joining Chess Club. Dad said I could.”

“That’s great!” She looked over the boy’s head at Ryan, the smile on her face showing just how huge she realized this was.

The things just her smile could do to a man.

Wesley continued to chatter on about school as he gathered his homework materials without being asked. Ryan had set up a second stool behind the counter for him to work, just as he’d done when he was the same age. Sucking down another fortifying sip of coffee, he finally addressed Bree.

“So what brings you in today? Any more luck with filling slots for the calendar?”

“I got two more, thank you very much. I’m hoping I’ll fill the last two tomorrow. Come with me?”

Anywhere.

She reached into a tote bag and pulled out a book. Sliding it across the counter, she stopped when it reached him. Ryan looked at Bree then at Wesley, before finally looking down at the book. Ah.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
.

“For me?”

Nodding, she waited for his reaction. He picked up the book, leafed through the pages.

“I suppose there are enough pictures that I can muddle through. Or would that be ‘muggle’ through?”

Bree clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. “Wes, your dad just made a Harry Potter joke!”

“It’s a miracle!” his son chortled.

“Maybe I’ll give it a try tonight, when I’m having trouble sleeping.” He didn’t mean that to come out as snotty as it had.

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping?” Instead of looking offended, her eyes held a touch of concern.

That would change in a heartbeat if she knew the reason he couldn’t sleep was because she had been dancing through his thoughts wearing nothing but the thick eyeglasses she’d worn back in high school. Old memories blended with new ones he’d like to make. The combination was distracting, to say the least.

“Well, then I’m glad I stopped by. I’m inviting you both over for dinner. I put on a crock-pot of chili before I left today and it’s going to be amazing. I’m even making some cornbread muffins to go with it. How hard can it be to screw those up? It’s the box stuff.”

“I’ve never had chili. Will I like it?” Wesley frowned.

“You’ll love it.” She winked. “Especially when it comes with ice cream sundaes after.”

“Way to negate the warm, cozy meal thing you had going there,” Ryan grinned.

“Maybe you won’t get any ice cream then, Mister.” She stuck out the tip of her pert little tongue.

If Wesley wasn’t there to chaperone, Ryan would have tasted that delicious looking tongue with his own.

Bree leaned over the counter and rested a hand on top of the one holding his cup of coffee. Her warm breath tickled his ear as she spoke.

“Perhaps you’d have better luck sleeping at night if you laid off the coffee in the late afternoon.” She patted his hand and flounced out the door.

Flounced. There was no other way to describe it. The Bree he’d known in high school did not flirt. She had no clue how attractive she was. That’s what drew him to her to begin with. This new Bree was far different, and Ryan was falling even harder and faster than he did back in high school. He watched the sway of her hips as she stepped off the sidewalk and marched toward her car. He was starting to want Bree Adams more than he’d wanted a career in football. And that was saying a lot.

The sound of laughter and conversation floated to her from the living room. A man and his son bonding. It felt good to know she had some small role in that, even if she knew they would have found their way to each other eventually. After all, it was the high school quarterback who drew a lonely bookworm out of her shell and convinced her that she was worthy of someone’s time and attention.

Bree slipped an oven mitt onto her hand and pulled the cornbread muffins out to set on top of the stove. Golden on the top. Cady would be proud. She reached into the cupboard beside the sink and snagged some ceramic bowls for the chili.

Calling the two in for dinner, her smile was a little dreamy, a little hopeful. Sure, Ryan still planned to sell the hardware store and move back to California. But a lot had happened since he’d come back to Scallop Shores. Part of that being her newly gained sense of confidence.

When he’d left the first time, she hadn’t the courage to fight for him, to convince him that she was the one that could make him happy. She wasn’t certain she had the courage now, but Bree knew in her heart she had to try. Fate had given them a second chance and she owed it to both of them to try.

“Bree, it smells great in here.”

Ryan stepped up as though he meant to kiss her. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He stopped just shy of doing so, the look on his face slightly stunned. She imagined she wore the mirror image on her own features as they stood facing each other awkwardly.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to try it.” Wesley seemed to have missed the exchange, having gone straight to the sink to wash up before sitting down at the table to wait for the adults.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, holding her breath until Ryan moved away.

Bree filled a basket with muffins and set it in the center of the table with a plastic tub of margarine. She poured a glass of milk for everyone then spooned out bowlfuls of chili. Setting her napkin in her lap, she watched them take their first bites.

Martha Stewart she wasn’t, but every woman should have one dish that they could make in their sleep and feel good about. This was hers. With her mother working full time and three little brothers to feed, Bree had gotten a lot of practice with her chili recipe.

“This hits the spot. I love it.” Ryan’s compliment came out on a low rumble that she could feel to the tips of her toes.

“It’s not too spicy. I thought it would be like the Texas chili cook-offs I hear about,” Wesley spoke between eager bites.

“Oh, I’m afraid I’m not as adventurous as that. Maybe we can experiment next time, amp up the spice and see what we can handle, hmm?” She grinned at the little boy.

“Can I help make it?”

“Absolutely.”

“And maybe we can make the cornbread muffins from scratch,” Wesley added.

“Well, let’s not go crazy there.” One thing that had never rubbed off from hanging out with Cady was her baking skills. The less time spent baking, the better.

For a meal that had spent the better part of a day simmering in the crock-pot, it was gobbled up in less than ten minutes flat. But Bree couldn’t have been more pleased. Sitting across the table from Ryan, she watched his easy smile as he listened intently to Wesley describe a classmate’s visit to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando.

Her mom would probably find it quite ironic that she chose to move out of her childhood home in order to have her own space. A place where she didn’t have to cook for anyone else or care for children that weren’t her own. And yet she found herself doing just that for Ryan and Wesley. Volunteering it even.

Okay, so over-volunteering was something she’d intended to work on this year. But Bree decided Ryan was officially exempt from that. She enjoyed spending time with Wesley. Even more so when they were all together ... almost like a family.

“I believe I promised someone an ice cream sundae if he ate all his dinner,” she sang out during a lull in the conversation.

“I did eat it. I did!”

“But in order to earn it, you and I need to clear off the table, rinse the plates and load the dishwasher for Bree.” Ryan nodded at his son’s empty bowl and milk glass.

She gave the man points for teaching his son manners. Pushing her chair back from the table, she allowed them to take her bowl away. Clearly they had an established routine at home because they worked together seamlessly, never getting in each other’s way.

Once the table had been cleared and wiped down, Bree got out some smaller plastic bowls and spoons. She had some chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and even a jar of maraschino cherries she’d picked up on impulse at Dade’s Grocery last week. She hoped they liked Cookie Dough ice cream. It was her favorite.

After dessert, Bree suggested a board game. It wasn’t terribly late and she was suddenly reluctant to spend the rest of her evening in a quiet apartment with just a book to keep her company. She wasn’t sure if Wesley was old enough to catch on to Monopoly and she immediately ruled out Trivial Pursuit. But it turned out he kicked butt at Clue—which he did, three times before Ryan finally told him it was time to get ready for bed.

Bree returned the board game to the hall closet while Ryan and Wesley gathered their coats and put on their shoes. She’d really enjoyed herself and she hoped they had too. Joining them at the door, her mind was already racing ahead, trying to come up with another reason to have them both over again. Was that pushy? Perhaps she should wait and see if Ryan invited her over for dinner next.

“Hey, buddy, here’s the key. Let yourself in, change into your PJs and brush your teeth. I’ll let you have thirty minutes of reading time before lights out, okay?”

“Aren’t you coming home?”

“Right behind ya. I just wanted to talk to Bree for a minute.”