Blind-Date Bride (9 page)

“Uh, need I remind you how we met?” A hint of humor flickered in his perfectly blue eyes. He drained his cup. “I distinctly remember it was one of your date-failure moments.”

“Okay, so it
was
doom. That doesn’t mean I can’t hold out hope that eventually I will have the perfect date with the absolutely right guy.”

“Hope is risky. It might work out, or you might be disappointed.” Still that smirk and that glint of amusement on his chiseled granite face. “I personally avoid hope of any kind. I’m not a risk-taking guy.”

“I won’t let go of my hope. Nothing can make me. God said His purpose was to give us hope.”

“Yes, He did.”

Being this near to him was like being in a gravity vortex. If she was precariously balancing on the edge of a cracking glacier, then he was the gravity ready to grab her feet and pull her down into a ten-thousand-foot
free fall. She pushed away from the wall, trying to get distance from him and finished the dregs of tea in her cup. “I have to keep hoping that maybe next time it will be the right guy. The one who will sweep me off my feet and will be my lifelong true love.”

“And carry you off to his castle?”

“Well, after the wedding. Sure. I’m a traditional girl.” She tossed her empty cup into the garbage can, doing her best not seem as if she wasn’t falling down that mountainside. “I suppose you don’t believe in true love, either?”

“No, but I wish you luck finding it.” He strolled over to her, gravity vortex and all. He tossed the cup into the can. “I hope he comes with a fancy castle and a happily-ever-after just for you.”

“I’m not interested in a fancy castle, but I do hope you’re right.” She thought about her past, her turbulent childhood and the endless string of men parading through her mother’s life. She wanted something better. If that were possible. So, why did it feel as if gravity had won, the glacier had crumbled apart and she was falling through midair?

Max is not right for you, Bree. She began to switch off the hot plate for the tea water and the coffee pot, needing something constructive to do. Something real, because she was having an emotional vertigo moment. She’d lost balance, she’d lost perspective, beginning to pine after this amazing man who was wrong for her in every way. Sure, at first glance he had been her dream man come to life. Aside from the fact that he wasn’t interested in her, there were plenty of reasons it couldn’t work.

She grabbed the stack of unused cups and stuffed them back into the box under the cloth-covered table.
Reason number one: too cynical. Reason number two: doesn’t believe in true love. Reason number three: being near him is like an emotional free fall. Reason number four: he’s everything I want and everything I’m afraid of all at the same time.

“You never told me how it’s working out with the car situation.” Did he move away? No, he came closer, apparently unaware of the effect he had on her. “Have you received your check yet?”

Her spirit seemed to brighten and lean toward him, another proof of his force-field effect. She stacked up the unused paper napkins, hoping he didn’t notice that her fingers kept fumbling. “It came in yesterday’s mail, but I’m still car-less. Face it. My car wasn’t worth that much, so the check isn’t extravagantly high. What can I get for that kind of money? I need a vehicle that is in good condition, but not a breakdown waiting to happen. What are the chances of finding it?”

“So you haven’t started looking?”

“Oh, I’ve looked. Online mostly. I’m not liking what I see. The right thing will come along, I’m sure of it.” She wrapped up the napkins and slipped the package into the box. “It’s going to take time.”

“Your hope is showing.”

“Yes, I know.” She felt his magnetism; she didn’t have to look up to know he was leaning against the wall again, dangerously close, his gaze zeroed in on her like she was a crime he was trying to solve. Great. He was probably thinking she was a negotiating wimp—and he wouldn’t be wrong. “I’m praying on it, and I’m sure it will work out.”

“Until then you’ve got your bike, right?”

“Right, when I can’t borrow Brandi’s truck.” Could she resist looking at him?

No, of course not. Mostly because she wanted to see the stretch of his smile, the carve of his dimples and the stalwart, solid look of him, the kind of man who did no wrong, a man who faced his responsibilities, who stood tall for what was right.

Okay, she wasn’t just falling for him. She
had
fallen, hard and fast at terminal velocity. Oops. Why else was she singing his praises? This was a serious disaster in the making. She focused on putting away the paper plates next and concentrating on the task, when all she wanted was to bask in his smile and make him laugh so she could hear the low-throated rumble. Yep, she was in serious trouble.

“If you need car-shopping advice, let me know.” Everything about him shouted “casual” as he jammed his hands into his bomber jacket pockets. His tone, his gestures, his face, it was all impartial, as if he were a cop offering a lost driver directions. “I know a few people.”

“A few people?” She curled her slender fingers around the back of a wooden chair and peered at him, as if trying to see deep inside him. “Who are you, and just who do you know, Detective Decker?”

“People.” He adopted a Jimmy Stewart accent. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Hold on to your heart, Bree. And do it now. If she didn’t, she was going to start making a list of all the ways Max
was
right for her. That would only lead to total romantic disaster. She might not be the most worldly girl in the world, but she knew that no way was Max offering to help her because he was falling for her.
No, this was purely platonic. A gesture of friendship and because he was that kind of a man. He made a difference. He helped others. He did the right thing.

So, why was she nodding? Why couldn’t she hold back the fateful words? “Sure. If you have the time.”

“I do. Great. Give me your cell number.”

She rattled it off, watching as he punched keys on his phone, adding her to his electronic phone book.

Should she do the same? What had become of her phone? She checked both skirt pockets. Empty. Where was her purse? She must have lost all common sense when Max had strolled into the bookstore because she’d obviously left it somewhere. He dominated her view, and it took effort to turn away from him. She was shocked to realize the store was nearly empty. That Marcus and a few other guys were folding up and stacking the chairs, and Lil was wheeling closer with a bag in her lap—her handbag, thank heavens.

“I hate to interrupt.” Lil rolled closer. “It’s always nice to see young people getting acquainted.”

By getting acquainted, Bree knew what Lil meant. She had a mother’s glimmering hope that shone from her like the bold rays around an eclipse. Lil didn’t stop there. “I have to confess I was doing a little detective work on my own. I learned from Marcus—what a nice young man—that you and Bree have been out to pizza together. The things I have to learn second hand.”

“Did Marcus mention that he was there, too?” Max interjected before she could explain, his easygoing manner and charm flawlessly dazzled as he took Lil’s offered hand in his own. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. It’s
been a long while since I was in the company of so many lovely ladies.”

“If you’re trying to get on my good side, it’s working.” The older woman dimpled, pleasure chasing away the lines on her face. “I also hear that you’re raising your brother. That kind of commitment to family can be hard to find these days.”

“I don’t think you can call it commitment.” He looked uncomfortable with the praise. He was a modest sort, Bree realized. And that was another thing for her reasons-to-like-Max list that she
wasn’t
compiling.

Or at least, trying not to.

“Mostly no one else would take Marcus, so I got stuck. Couldn’t help it. It was unavoidable. Now I’ve grown fond of the kid, so it’s hard to get rid of him.”

She was
so
not fooled. She could see what Max didn’t say, what he was uncomfortable saying. This was a man who had scars, too. Who had learned, just like she had, that it was safer not to let your feelings show. Safer not to let anything or anyone appear to mean too much to you.

“Here’s your bag, sweetie.” Lil handed it over with a smile. “Now, never mind me, you two. I’ve got to track down my daughter. I don’t know where she’s gotten off to. Go back to your talking. Nice to meet you, Max.”

“And you, ma’am.” He nodded once, perhaps a sign of respect, as Lil rolled her wheelchair in the direction of the checkout counter. “I can see why you’ve adopted her.”

“She’s the best.” Her phone was right where it belonged, lost in the bottom of her bag. She handed it over.

“I’ll send you a text sometime tomorrow. I’ll have a bead on a car for you by then.” Max didn’t bat an eye,
there was no hint of his emotion as he punched in his phone number. From the thick dark hair swirling over his strong forehead, to his deep-set eyes and the stoic expression and stubbornly set jaw, he simply made a girl want to sigh.

“Are you sure you’re good with this? You’ve played the shining knight a few times now.”

“My armor isn’t shining. Never was. It’s tarnished and dinged, trust me. But I’d like to help you.” Impossible to read the glance of emotion as he pressed the phone into her palm. His touch was callused and a few moments too long, almost as if he didn’t want to move away. “Here comes Marcus. I’d better drag him away. It’s past his curfew.”

“It’s nine o’clock.”

“Yep. I look forward to seeing you again.” Max strolled away, wide shoulders set, back straight, warrior strong.

The pang of emotion in her heart resonated through her, radiating out like waves in a pond as she watched him open the door for his brother. The chimes overhead jingled cheerfully and he stood before the threshold, framed by light. He lifted one hand in a brief wave, his last farewell. Affection deepened his true-blue eyes and zinged through the air between them. Something had changed. Everything had changed.

He strode through the threshold and into the dark, leaving an image in her heart that did not fade.

T
he chimes over the bakery’s front door tinkled a merry welcome as the door flew open, bringing with it blustery wind and tenacious sunshine. Brianna turned from her work at the back counter to greet the new customer. It was Colbie, looking fresh and lovely in an olive-green coat, white cable-knit sweater, jeans and suede boots.

“Hey, stranger.” She abandoned folding boxes. “Good to see you.”

“I love Saturdays. Errands and not having to go to work, although I do love my job.” Colbie strode to the counter with a smile and an agenda. “I’ve got Mom in the car, so I can’t be long. How about a half dozen banana muffins? They’re her favorite.”

“Sure. Do you want to pick out the faces?” Bree donned a plastic glove and grabbed a small bakery box from the stack she’d already made. “I got to decorate the muffins this morning. A total blast.”

“Mom will adore the smiling monster. I like the ones with the snaggletooth. How about three of each?”

“You got it.” She carefully loaded the box with the enormous muffins sporting iced monster faces. “How’s your day off going?”

“Good. We just finished battling the grocery store. Mom wanted to come. She misses doing it herself.” Colbie opened her purse and dug through her wallet. She dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter. “She’s lost so much of her freedom, I want her to feel like she can still do some things. Like pick out what type of potato chips she wants.”

“She looked good at the bookstore last night.” Bree moved over to the register and caught sight of Lil in the car, parked at the curb in front of the windows. She waved. Lil waved back, cheerful as always in spite of her infirmity. Bree punched in the sale at the discounted rate the owner, their cousin Ava, insisted on. She knew how hard things were for Colbie and her mom. “It was good to see Lil chatting with everyone. A social butterfly.”

“She gets lonely these days. She always was a people person. I’m grateful for our church’s home-care circle. Having church members visit on a weekly basis has been a lifesaver for her. She doesn’t always feel up to going out.”

“I’m going to try to make it by after church tomorrow.” Brianna counted back the change. “I need to study, but at least you can get out for a while.”

“I’d appreciate it. I’ll probably tackle the yard work. The leaves are still in the yard from last October. It’s scary, that’s what it is.” Colbie took her change and her bakery box with a mischievous glint. “I noticed you getting along quite well with a certain handsome man.”

She cringed. Yep, she knew this was coming. The shocker was that Colbie hadn’t called earlier wanting to
know the dish. She pushed the cash drawer shut and went back to folding boxes. “You have romance on the brain, Cole.”

“I do. It’s a fatal flaw.” If she looked momentarily sad, it was only for an instant and in a flash it was gone. But the truth of it remained unsaid between them. Colbie wanted romance for others because of the simple fact she could not have it for herself. No man in his twenties was looking to get saddled down with a disabled mother-in-law and more medical debt than most folks could shoulder.

“Still, I see God’s hand in this.” Undeterred, Colbie tucked the box under her arm. “Your car could have gotten stolen any time, right? So maybe it is God turning misfortune into victory. Perhaps you were supposed to say yes to the guy when he offered to drive you home. Hel-
lo.
”

If only. Just because she knew he was faithful, compassionate, honorable and a dedicated cop didn’t mean she had to start hoping. No, she would stay neutral and refuse to see Colbie’s take on things. At least this way she didn’t have to be afraid of getting hurt, of opening herself up. Of finally meeting someone perfect and finding out she wasn’t meant to be loved. That was what she was really afraid of.

Old patterns, her counselor would say.

“Perhaps Billy was the man God meant for me, but he decided not to show up.” Equally undeterred, Brianna finished the box and slid it beneath the counter with the others. Deciding she’d done enough to last awhile, she grabbed a clean rag from beneath the counter and the waiting pail of sudsy water. “Unfortunately, that’s how free will goes. Now I’m tragically never going to meet my one true love.”

“Sorry, I’m not buying it. Which reminds me, I got a text message from Billy.”

“Groan.” She set the bucket down on the floor and knelt to rinse the cloth in the bleach water. How was she going to convince her sister that the path to true love probably could not start with a blind date? At least, judging by her precious experience. “Billy chickened out.”

“No, he said something came up and he had to go out of town on family business. I have a call into him to find out what’s going on. I’ve got to get going.” Colbie backed toward the door. “But if you don’t think things will work with Mr. Gorgeous Detective, then I can try to reconnect you with Billy.”

“As if that wouldn’t be a disaster to my self-esteem.” Bree rolled her eyes, joking so that Colbie was grinning as she pushed through the door. Her sister’s life was somber and filled with hard work, and duty.

Her apron pocket began to vibrate. She dried her hands on her shirt and pulled out her cell. A new text. As Brandi strolled in from the kitchen, balancing a large cake with both hands, Bree scrolled down and opened her new message.

Bree,

I’ve got a lead on a car. Runs good. Interested?

Max.

Max? She warmed from the inside out, as if she were standing in front of a roaring fire on a cold winter’s day. She felt toasty and cozy and glowing. This, from simply thinking about the man.

Max,

I’m interested.

Bree.

“You’re shining.” Brandi swished around the counter, her apron ruffling with her gait. “Something tells me it’s because of a certain detective.”

“No comment.” If her voice wobbled and she nearly dropped her phone, then it wasn’t a sign of significance. She wasn’t in love with him or anything. At least, not yet.
Almost,
sure, but not yet. “He’s going to help me find a car.”

“Whew. Talk about a relief. You need transportation, but the stuff we’ve waded through online. Scary.” That’s what Brandi said, but Bree knew she meant something else entirely. “Max is going to be a big help to you. I just know it.”

“Me, too.” It wasn’t the big help thing she was agreeing to. She loved that Brandi always understood her. No words were necessary. There were things too fragile to say out loud and too personal to talk about. Her tender feelings for Max happened to be one of those things. Hopes she didn’t dare let flourish, although they were there.

Her phone buzzed again. When she whipped it out of her pocket, there was another text from Max.

Where R U?

She tapped out an answer, aware of her twin watching her with understanding on her face. Brandi knew why Bree’s fingers were wooden and her ribs hurt with every breath. This way she felt about Max—what she was
trying not to put in words—was entirely new to her. Definitely uncertain ground. That’s why it was so terrifying.

At the bakery.

She sent her answer, pocketed her phone and wrung the dishcloth out in the soapy water. Max. She hadn’t been able to think of much else. Last night, after the singles event, visions of him interfered with her attempt at late-night studying. He was apparently no match for teaching methods in the elementary classroom. All the workday through, she’d wondered about him. Remembered the rough timbre of his voice. Felt the hurt he hid over his girlfriend’s betrayal.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Brandi hung close, her whisper loud in the hush of the empty room. “You’re afraid to care.”

“It’s a different kind of afraid.” She swiped at the tabletop, scrubbing until it squeaked. “When I was lying in the hospital with tubes and monitors, I was so grateful to be alive. I wanted to play it safe. I never wanted to be hurt like that again.”

“Totally expected. You were really hurt, Bree. We didn’t know if you would pull through.”

“I know.” She held fast against the memories trying to well up from the vault she kept them buried in. Collapsing to the kitchen floor, the tile slick and cold beneath her cheek. Charles, the dishwasher, kneeling at her side after the gunmen had left. The anxious tone of the paramedics as they checked her vitals. The tearing sound of the blood pressure cuff, the drone of the helicopter and more pain than she could endure.

“I woke up and realized two things. How gracious God was in sparing me, and how important reaching my dreams were. I’ve been marking time, too afraid to go after what I want. Afraid that it won’t be something I can have.”

“A happy life. A loving marriage.” Pure understanding, that was Brandi.

“Exactly. There’s nothing safe about the kind of relationships we’ve seen. And I thought—”

“—that a better quality relationship with a solid, decent man would be safe,” Brandi finished.

“It looks that way from where we’ve always stood.” She didn’t need to tell her twin. Brandi was already nodding as if she knew perfectly.

Bree didn’t have to talk about the sting of uncertainty and other people’s comments on them and their family before Dad left. And then the unpredictable and often volatile men their mom dated, or married, or divorced. How they would wonder about the kids in school, the ones with the pretty, put-together moms and nice, well-kept cars and their pleasant smiles of greeting and “I love you, have a good day” that seemed as routine as milk and cereal for breakfast. Those kids must have safe, secure lives. It had always looked ideal, as if there were no peril, no risks and no fear.

“Max is a solid guy. Even I can see it.” Brandi’s reassurance came quietly. “He might be a chance in a lifetime.”

“That’s exactly why it’s so frightening. And hopeful.” Did she dare give life to those stubborn wishes, the ones that not even her uncertain childhood or post-traumatic stress could silence?

Max. She felt his arrival like a jolt of electricity, as if jumpstarting a part of her spirit. She turned toward
him. Tenderness filled her, sweet as stardust and twice as luminous. She glowed from the inside out, drinking in his dear, dependable presence.

“I’ll be in the back. I have cookies to decorate.” Brandi slipped away, whispering one last thought. “Don’t be afraid of the good kind of love, Bree.”

Great advice, but how did she not be afraid? With every step Max took toward her, the panic returned proportionally. The sensation of falling. The vertigo. The struggle to let him close.

The door swung open, and he filled the doorway, shrinking the room, forcing the entire world to vanish. There was only him, just him, and her soul seemed to celebrate. The sunshine gleamed more brightly. The air smelled sweeter. She felt enlivened and happy, and she was no longer falling. She took a step toward him, though she couldn’t feel the ground.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He let the door swing shut behind him, looking ruggedly handsome in black. Black coat, black T-shirt, black jeans. “I had a tough morning.”

“You’ve been working?”

“On the job since six. Got a five-thirty call. Didn’t get my beauty sleep.” He winked. Strolling closer, she could read the toll the day had taken on his soul. Shadowed eyes, set jaw, a deep weariness that had nothing to do with being woken up early on a Saturday morning. The bruises under his eyes and his unshaken jaw only added proof. “Is that coffee fresh?”

“Just finished brewing.” She abandoned her table cleaning and circled around the counter. This time, retreating made no difference in the awareness she felt for
him. The bond between them continued, a powerful emotional link that seemed to burrow deep, where she was most vulnerable. She grabbed a to-go cup and filled it with steaming coffee. “Are you sure you want to go car shopping with me? Maybe you want to go home instead.”

“No, I’d rather make myself useful.” One dimple showed in his lopsided grin, but she could sense something more. He was afraid of this, too, to take a step forward into the dark unknown. There was more meaning to his words, real feeling beneath his attempt at humor. He took the cup she set on the counter and reached for his wallet.

“It’s on me. Usefulness has its rewards.” She kept her tone light, when she meant more, so much more. “Do you want anything else? A muffin? A cookie. A scone?”

“What’s with the muffins?” He frowned at the display case where the day’s baked goods were faced out, to give the customers a good view of their smiling monster faces.

“Do you like my handiwork?”

“You did this to perfectly innocent muffins?”

“And I got paid to do it. Today I decided to go with green-and-pink hair. It seemed to match the springlike day. I like the old-man face the best. It has character.” She grabbed a plastic glove with a box on the counter. “Want one?”

“No. Thanks. Too frilly for me, although I like the scowling old guy. You have talent with icing.” He tossed a couple bucks in the tip jar and sipped his coffee, keeping watch of her over the rim. “Although the goofy-eyed snaggletooth monster is a close second.”

“My job doesn’t make the city a safer place the way yours does, but it helps people to smile.” She dropped the
glove and pushed open the swinging kitchen door. She waved at someone inside the kitchen. “I’m leaving a few minutes early,” she said, and let the door brush closed.

“I don’t mind waiting if you need to finish your shift, Bree.”

“It’s been quiet today.” She untied her apron and hung it in a small closet. She gathered her coat and purse, and he couldn’t keep from cataloguing the graceful way she moved, the precious way she folded a lock of golden hair behind her ear and the luster of her quiet beauty.

“Let me help you with that.” He set down his coffee to take her coat and hold it for her.

As she slipped into it, she had to come irresistibly close. Tenderly, he let the experience wash through him. The wonder of her so near that he could see the richer highlight of platinum in her hair, inhale the sugar and icing scent of her, see the sweet vulnerability of her heart. He felt ten feet tall, to her petiteness, and an unprecedented twang of hope vibrated within him as he settled the coat on her shoulders. He wished he could pull her into the shelter of his chest instead of watch as she moved away.