Always My Hero (13 page)

Wesley started to brush past the adults then turned back and wrapped his arms around Bree. He was so slight, but he had a tight grip. Looking at Ryan over the top of the boy’s head, her eyes misted. She hadn’t thought, or expected to mean so much to him. Though it was little wonder, as he’d come to mean just as much to her.

“Thank you for dinner and the game,” he mumbled against her stomach before hurrying off to the apartment next door.

“You lock your door when you leave, even just to come over here?” She teased Ryan once they were alone.

“Old habits. Scallop Shores is so different from our condo in California. I’ve missed this laid back lifestyle. It killed me having to coach Wes to be suspicious of strangers, to assume that people meant him harm and wouldn’t think twice about stealing his stuff.” He shot one last protective glance toward his own apartment before gently shutting the door. They were alone again, in her crowded entry hall.

She didn’t want to get her hopes up. But his words gave her pause. Did he not want to go back to his old life? Would he stay and make a life here? Could they finally be together?

“Wes seems to be settling in quite nicely here.” She ventured.

“He’s making friends, Bree.” He grabbed her hands and gripped them tightly, his eyes a bit too bright. “This is so big.”

“He didn’t have many friends in California?”

“He was always a loner. And because it meant I didn’t have to interact with other parents on awkward play dates, I was cool with it. I never realized he was lonely. Not until I saw the excitement on his face after school today. He actually wants to be a part of something. He’s seeking out friends and companionship.”

Ryan let go of her hands, gripping her shoulders instead, pulling her to him in a spontaneous hug that had them both laughing from pure joy.

“And it’s all because of you. You gave him the attention he needed, you listened to him and knew exactly what to say.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t—” Her words were cut off with a kiss.

His hands cupped her cheeks, fingers fanning out into her hair. His lips were gentle but insistent, encouraging her to let go, open up. She did, gasping as his tongue swept into her mouth, conquering, exploring. She leaned into him, her legs suddenly wobbly.

As quickly as he’d initiated the kiss, Ryan stepped away. His dark eyes were so full of emotion that she had a hard time breathing. He rubbed a thumb along her cheekbone, not saying a word. Bree turned into the caress, finding it difficult not to embarrass herself by climbing all over him.

“I want ... ” he began.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Was he asking her ... ? Did he want to pick up where they’d left off all those long, lonely years ago?

“ ... to stay. I was going to sell the hardware store. I put it on the market today, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“You can sell the hardware store and still stay, Ryan. Start your own accounting business from home. Find something else altogether. There are no limits.”

“See? You always know just the right thing to say.”

Her heart was still thudding from her hope that he was going to tell her he wanted her. But if he wanted to stay in Scallop Shores, that was a start. A very good start.

“I need to go make sure Wes brushed his teeth before bed. We’ve been having a little battle of wills over that particular issue lately.”

He put a hand on the doorknob but stopped, resting his forehead against the wood. Turning around, he didn’t bother to hide the raw need that pulled the skin tight against his cheekbones, drew his breath from his lungs in rasping shudders. An answering need filled her with the overwhelming urge to step into his arms, whisper to him to stay a little longer, appease the ache that had her clenching her thighs together so hard they shook. But now was not the time. She gave her head a little shake and stepped back instead of forward.

“Soon, Bree. Soon.” His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he opened them again and fixed her with a look that had her gripping the wall to keep upright.

Then he was gone.

• • •

“You have a lot in common with Sam,” Bree told Ryan on the way to recruit the last two models for her calendar.

She’d asked him to come along with her this morning, and given that she’d been doing most of this on her own so far, it clearly meant something for him to be there today. Though now that she’d started this particular thread of conversation, he couldn’t help but wonder if his presence wasn’t needed for the calendar but for another reason altogether. Both hands on the steering wheel, he studied her profile, trying to figure out what she was plotting.

Ryan had asked his mom if she wouldn’t mind holding down the store for the morning. She was the one who’d trained him on the updates to the cash register and credit card system when he’d reopened the store, so she’d be fine for a few hours. He made her promise not to lift anything heavy, but Anne Pettridge could charm anyone into helping her, so he knew if she needed help she’d ask.

“Sam was on the baseball team my freshman year. I think he was a senior? Oh, man! I remember now. Wasn’t it his parents that died together in their house? Carbon monoxide poisoning or something.”

Bree nodded. “And he hid away from Scallop Shores for years and years.”

“Well, clearly he came back, so maybe he wasn’t hiding. Could have been taking a break.”

She snorted at this.

“Listen to yourself, Ryan. Taking a break,” she muttered under her breath as she shook her head.

“Okay, so we both left town for a number of years between visits. I totally get how coming home would remind him of his parents’ death and how incredibly painful that would be to dredge it all up again.”

“But he did it. He came home and he stayed home. He faced his demons and he never looked back.”

Now Ryan rolled his eyes. To her, everything played out like it would in a book. Her favorite, he would guess, was a good love story. Because everyone always got their happy ending. Bree was a sucker for happy endings. He loved that about her.

“And the reason he came home, against all odds, was true love. Am I right?” He flashed her a grin.

“Don’t tease me, Ryan Pettridge. Yes, as it happens, Sam did fall in love and his wife wanted to come back home to Scallop Shores. The only way to hang on to her was to follow her.”

“I’m not teasing. Really. You just have this way of seeing the good in every situation.” He turned to stare at the road, unable to meet her eyes as he continued. “You should have found your own happy ending a long time ago. You deserve it.”

“It’s just taking a little longer than usual, that’s all. It will happen.” She plucked imaginary lint off her skirt and studied the scenery passing on her side of the pickup truck.

They pulled up to a duplex not too different from their own, except this one had a wheelchair ramp where the front steps would have been. Sam was in a wheelchair? Ryan furrowed his brow as he hurried around to help Bree down from the truck.

“I haven’t met Riley yet, but I’ve heard he can be a bit prickly. Cross your fingers we can get them both on board.”

“Riley?”

“Sam’s best friend. Afghanistan vet and paraplegic.”

Ah. They climbed the ramp and knocked on the front door. It was opened by a woman with short, spiky red hair like fire. Ryan remembered her from high school. What was her name? It was a month. No, a season?

“Summer?” he tried.

She laughed even as Bree thumped him soundly on the shoulder.

“It’s Wynter, actually—with a y. I know, it’d be easier to remember if my hair were white as snow. Come on in. Sam and Riley are expecting you.”

Ignoring Bree’s scowl, he stepped into the duplex. It was much more open and inviting than theirs. Looking around, he realized it was because the walls between the two apartments had been torn down to make one large residence. He liked it.

“Hiya.” A tugging on his jeans alerted Ryan to an adorable toddler.

Her jet-black hair was pulled to the sides in little pigtails. Sam and Wynter’s daughter? She didn’t look like either one of them. He bent down to her eye level and smiled wide.

“Well, hello gorgeous. What’s your name?”

“Charlotte.” She gave him a shy grin and shoved her two middle fingers into her mouth, backwards. Oh, that was cute.

“Ah, the fickleness of youth. A new man steps into her life and she forgets all about her favorite uncle.” The man seated in the wheelchair beside the couch could only be Riley.

Ryan ruffled the tot’s head before getting up and approaching the adults. He shook hands with each man as they were introduced and then was waved toward the couch along with Bree.

“I’m Bree. You’ve probably seen me around town a time or two. And this is Ryan Pettridge. His parents own the hardware store. We’re here to ask you probably the most bizarre favor you’ve ever been asked.”

“Well, before you get down to business, can I get anyone a drink? I have a pot of coffee going. Or I can make tea,” Wynter offered.

“I make tea.” Charlotte raced off excitedly to a pint-sized toy kitchen in the corner.

“Our little hostess-in-the-making.” Sam chuckled as she rushed back with a pink plastic cup and saucer, dumping it in Bree’s lap before hurrying off to get one for Ryan as well.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee if you have it already made. In addition to this fabulous tea. You must give me your recipe.” Ryan addressed both mother and daughter, receiving a nod from one and a delighted giggle from the other.

“Cady said she’d spoken to Wynter and thought you two might be interested in posing for the library calendar?” Bree leaned forward, obviously eager to get down to the reason they were there.

“Question is, why would you want us? A messy-haired computer geek and a half-man. The photographer would have to lie down on the floor to get a good shot of me.” Riley flung her a calculating look.

“So then he’d lie down on the floor,” Bree agreed, affably.

“But...” Riley started again.

“I thought you were Sam’s friend? So why would you sell the man short? Longer hair is in. And the scruff? Totally sexy. We’d definitely keep him in his element. Some kind of tech gadgets. Maybe just a laptop and a bear skin rug. Nice tight pair of jeans...” She tapped her chin, her eyes unfocused.

Ryan felt an unwelcome prickle of jealousy as Sam shifted uncomfortably in his recliner by the window. She found his scruff sexy? Riley hooted his amusement at the situation.

“Ooh, I like it.” Wynter’s eyes danced as she entered the room, setting a large tray on the coffee table with mugs of coffee, a carton of creamer, and a small crock of sugar. She handed her daughter a sippy cup of milk to keep her curious little hands away from the hot beverages.

“And Riley. You’re ex-military. I bet you’ve got some interesting tats.” Her probing gaze roved over the man’s flannel covered arms and chest.

All three men coughed at Bree’s assessment. Ryan sloshed a bit of his coffee over the side of his mug and hastened to wipe it up with a napkin. Where the hell was his shy little librarian now? She was going toe to ... wheel ... with the cantankerous veteran.

“You want to see my tats?” Riley leered nastily.

“The women of Scallop Shores would pay good money for a chance to put those tats up on their wall.”

“What if I told you I didn’t have any tattoos? I’m just a broken schmo that couldn’t even—”

“Yeah. Boo hoo. You’re in a wheelchair. Got it. You know what else that means? It means you have to use your arms way more than the average guy. It means you probably have the sexiest biceps in Scallop Shores. Show ’em off and I bet you’ll have the ladies lining up out the door.”

“I don’t want the ladies lining up.” He glared at her.

Bree didn’t even flinch. She doctored her coffee, watched him calmly over the top of her mug and quietly took a sip before answering.

“Yes you do. You deserve a chance at love and happiness just as much as anyone else. But you aren’t going to find it hiding out at home all the time.”

“You sound like Wynter.” Riley turned his chair to face away from the group seated around the coffee table.

“Great minds.” Bree nodded at the woman and gave her a little wink.

Ryan watched the exchange like a tennis match, only this was far more entertaining. He could see the man was intrigued. She was bending him. Riley pretended to look disinterested but Ryan could see in the way his hands gripped his chair, the way he sat up just a little straighter, he was listening. He was considering.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared!” Riley roared as he spun back to face the others, sending young Charlotte scrambling into Sam’s lap with her fingers in her mouth again.

“Really? ’Cause I am,” Sam admitted. “Definitely out of my comfort zone. But I’m learning that sometimes the best things are. And if we don’t push ourselves, we miss out on something pretty special.”

Riley slapped a hand to his forehead. Ryan took a sip of coffee as he thought over those words. Pretty profound speech for a ‘techie’. He snuck a glance at Bree, who continued to look unflustered.

“Well, you aren’t going to show me up, Scruffy. You’re in, I’m in. But the photographer is going to have to come to me. I don’t get out much.”

“We will get him to wherever you need him,” Sam spoke up.

“Why do I even bother to talk? I swear to God, no one listens to me.” Riley threw his hands up in the air and let them slap down onto his lap.

“Thank you. Both of you. I can’t tell you how much this means. We have a full calendar now. And the library is going to get a new roof.” She stood up and approached Riley’s wheelchair.

“So no tats, huh?” She’d placed a small hand on his upper arm, raising her eyebrows and nodding as she checked out the muscle hidden beneath his forest green plaid.

Ryan nearly laughed as he watched the gruff ex-military dude swallow hard as he stared at Bree’s hand on his arm. She squealed in delight as he flexed for her. All right, enough was enough.

“We’ve lined up a photographer for next week, right Bree? We’ll call you about when to come in.” He set his coffee cup back down on the tray and stood up.