His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) (10 page)

“Run screaming from the room?”

She winced. “I already did that once today.”

Ashley's eyes widened. “You
did?
”

“Practically, yeah. It's nothing, just that Bryan and I got into the stupidest argument. I was in a horrible mood after listening to the gossips describe my life from birth to what will be my death and then…”

“Then?”

“Then I overheard a married woman hitting on Bryan while insulting me in the same breath, and—”

“
Who?
” Ashley sat up abruptly. “Who did that?”

“It doesn't matter who.”

“But he turned her down, right?
He did turn her down?
”

“Yeah.”

Ashley fell back against the cushions in obvious relief. “So what did this woman say? How did she insult you?” She made a face. “And why don't I shut up now so you can get the story out and then ask my questions?”

“Good idea,” Melissa said, smiling because she knew Ashley wouldn't take the teasing to heart. “I'm still not telling you who, but her cleavage was out to here,” she said, lifting
her hand in front of her chest in an exaggerated description, “and she rubbed herself against him and said I wasn't ‘woman enough' for him, and he'd soon grow bored.”

“That
witch!
” Ashley was up again, her hands fisted on her lap. “
Who
was it? Did Bryan put her in her place? He better have set her straight or I'll go talk to him my—”

“I didn't stick around to find out.”

“
Melissa!
You can't pay any attention to people like that. Is that what you and Bryan fought over?”

“It's what led to the fight,” she admitted sheepishly. “Bryan accused me of lumping him into the male-jerk category when I said all men are obsessed with breasts and he'd practically dissolved into a puddle due to the cleavage she presented him, and then before I knew it I practically whined, because he—oh, I can't repeat it again.” She buried her nose in Issy's soft pink blanket. “It's too humiliating. One day and I blew it. I'll never be able to face him.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yes.” Raising her head, she found her friend looking at her with a curious expression. “What?”

“Nothing. Just wondering why you're worrying so much about what Bryan thinks. Over the last year you've outright avoided him.” Her eyes widened then narrowed, a suspicious grin forming on her full lips.

“Don't look at me like that. Ashley—no.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“I wouldn't have thought so, either, but if you could see the expression on your face right now,” Ashley drawled, her grin widening rapidly. “Melissa, you and Bryan would make—”

“Nothing. We would make
nothing!
”

“—a gorgeous couple. You're both tall, blond and—well, gorgeous.”

She snorted. “Oh, please. Since when is a woman who looks like Peter Pan considered hot?”

“I don't know, the cut is very Halle Berry.”

“Having a baby has affected your vision. That or the sleep deprivation is getting to you.”

Ashley sighed. “If your hesitation is about the past—”

“How can it not be? Bryan might be gorgeous, but the man has boinked practically every woman in town.”

“Did you just say
boinked?
”

“Even if—and there's
no way
—but even if we were to, how could I ever measure up to all those women? Ashley, after the mastectomy I didn't…I didn't have reconstructive surgery.”

“What? Why not?” Ashley's face darkened with color. “If you don't mind my asking?” She waved a hand to where Issy lay cradled against her. “You mean that's not…?”

“Real? Nope.” She inhaled and sighed. “It's a special bra. And I didn't have the surgery because I was never that big anyway and I guess I thought there'd never be a need for it because at the time all I could think about was my mom and grandmother and…”

“You thought you were going to die.” Ashley's eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Melissa, do you mean to tell me you
never
believed you had a chance?”

“Would you?” she whispered softly. “It runs in the family, remember? And neither my mom nor my grandmother made it.”

“But you did.”

“Still, the odds are stacked against me. And implants would only make it harder to detect—and I should not be telling you this.” She closed her eyes, ashamed, the sweet
baby scent of Issy reminding her that there was such a thing as sharing too much. “You just had a baby, and here I am going on and on, laying this on you.”

“I'm your friend, Melissa. You can tell me anything.”

The baby began squirming in her arms, her little face scrunching up and turning red until Isabella opened her mouth and began to cry like a pro.
Saved by the bellow again
.

“Here, give her to me. Would you mind going down to the kitchen to get a bottle while I change her? Dara will show you.”

Melissa shook her head, more than ready to escape. “Not at all.” She handed Isabella over to her mother and had made it to the door when Ashley stopped her by saying her name. “Need something else?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Melissa, Bryan might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he's not like other guys.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so. Bryan's a lot of things, but he'd never make a woman feel inferior. Take the married woman, for example. You said he turned her down, but did Bryan ever come out and say anything horrible to her?”

She replayed the afternoon in her head. “No. Not really.”

“I thought not. And he wouldn't, because that's not him. But anyway, what I referred to earlier when I mentioned the past was what happened with Josie and how Bryan was the one to find out the truth.”

“Oh.” Now she felt foolish. Why hadn't she kept her mouth shut? “What about it?”

“You've avoided Bryan since then.”

“I have not.”

“You don't come to any of our cookouts or dinners if he's going to be here.”

“I've been busy. It's just coincidence.”
But was it?
Her cheeks heated, and she hoped Ashley didn't notice. After that day at her house when Bryan had seen her breakdown—

“You might like to know that whenever the subject has come up, Bryan has repeatedly told everyone who'll listen that you weren't to blame, that Josie's reaction to the medicine could've happened to any parent under the circumstances.”

He had? She gripped the painted doorjamb, her fingers hurting because she squeezed so tight. “Thank you for telling me.” The whisper came out hoarse, choked. She'd always wondered what Bryan really thought. Wondered if he'd ever hinted to anyone that she should've done more. Should've been more aware or been the person sentenced to prison instead of Joe.

“Melissa?”

She blinked, shoving her pain-filled thoughts away. “Yeah?”

“Issy and I would like one of the hot-pink bottles,” Ashley said with a perfectly straight face. “To match her outfit.”

Melissa laughed softly. “Got it. One hot-pink bottle coming up!”

 

“A
RE YOU ALMOST
ready for the big day?” Hal watched Ellen closely, noting how she bit her lower lip in anxiety.

“Are you sure we're doing the right thing?”

He tried to remember when Maggie had been pregnant with Melissa. The mood swings, the tears. “I'm positive.”

“Has Melissa said if she's coming?”

His arm tightened around Ellen's shoulders and he pulled her closer, his lips brushing her forehead. “Not yet. We've been busy and haven't talked much these past couple days.”

A sniffle sounded a moment before he felt the hot warmth of a tear hit his chest. “I hate that it's going to be this way.”

“She'll come around, just give her time.”

“But you're not talking!”

“We've both been working a lot.” It sounded like a lame excuse and he knew it. He didn't like it, either, but his daughter wasn't going to ruin the best thing that had happened to him in a long time.

“I…I invited Bryan to the wedding. I hope you don't mind.”

“If you want him to come, that's fine.”

“He's a decent guy, and I think deep down you know it.”

He scowled. “At least I can keep an eye on her since she's right next door.”

“See? You're focusing on the positive,” she drawled, her tone revealing only a slight trace of sarcasm.

Hal rubbed her back and shoulders, feeling the tension slowly subside. They sat side by side on her couch, snuggled close. “You go to the doctor today?”

She nodded and her chin bumped his chest. “They did an ultrasound. I couldn't make anything of it, but the doctor said the baby looks fine.”

Thank God
. “Any worries about its mama?” His voice emerged husky and anxious, not what he wanted. Ellen squeezed him in response and Hal relished her strength, the lush feel of her pressed against him.

“I'm fine. Stop worrying.”

His chuckle lacked humor. “I'll stop if you stop,” he murmured, wincing when he realized how similar it sounded to the challenge Melissa had issued to him.

“I love you, Hal. I'm sorry for upsetting Melissa, but…I love you. Too much to let you go.”

He smoothed his knuckles over her cheek. “Good thing. You'd have a hard time getting me to go anywhere. Better remember that if you ever decide you want a younger man.”

“Who'd want a younger man when an older one has only gotten better with age?” Her eyes were sparkling, her grin seductive.

Chuckling, he kissed her, determined he'd show her just how much better an older man could be.

 

A
N HOUR LATER
Melissa stared across the table at her father, on the verge of jumping up to run from the room screaming as Ashley had suggested. He looked…calm. And considering he'd just come from Ellen's house—

Eww, eww, eww!
When would the day
end?

“I'll put your orders in and be out with your drinks.” Dara, the woman Ashley had hired about a year after opening, gave them a quick smile and walked away.

Melissa fiddled with her napkin, unwrapped her utensils and arranged them, and then smoothed the napkin over her lap, well aware of her father's scrutiny the entire time.

“You've been avoiding me.”

“I was at work and it was my first day on the job. I couldn't exactly talk to my father about his personal life every time he chose to call.”

“Mel, can we drop the attitude and just talk? I need that right now.”

“Ellen putting pressure on you again?”

“No, she's not. You are.” He leaned across the table. “Why can't you be happy for me? Accept that I want to be with her?”

“You
know
why.” The muscles in her shoulders tensed painfully. “You don't have to marry the first woman who comes along. Ellen might be nice, she might be great, but—”

“She's pregnant.”

M
ELISSA BLINKED
,
unable to comprehend what he'd just said because of the blood rushing to leave her head. “That's
not
funny.” Her dad stared at her, his gaze, his expression, dead serious. Remembering her comment to Ashley about her dad meeting her in public to drop yet another bomb, she laughed, the sound high-pitched. “I don't believe this— I don't believe
her!
”

“Stop right there and lower your voice.” His cheeks took on a ruddy hue.

She was too shocked to care that her outburst had gained the other diners' attention. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her stomach, unable to stop the near-hysterical laughter bubbling up and out of her chest. No doubt she sounded manic.

“Melissa.”

“Oh, the irony!” She snickered, earning an even deeper scowl from her father. “This is just too good. I mean, she arranged for Bryan to hire me so she could get me out of the way and marry you sooner, but as a
backup plan,
she got herself knocked
up!
” Her father's face was awash with angry color, his eyes glittering dangerously, but it didn't keep her from saying what had to be said. “What, she didn't tell you about coercing Bryan into hiring me? Why am I not sur
prised? I wouldn't have found out myself if Bryan hadn't slipped. For the record, he defended her, too.”

“You didn't have an interview set up with Booker that day at the station?”

Guilt stirred, but she clamped it down. She would not feel guilty. “No, I didn't. I was stunned when I heard you talking about your
old age
and how I was holding you back so I…fibbed and hoped for the best. Then Bryan appeared behind me, courtesy of Ellen, and the rest is history.”

“I can't believe you thought lying would solve anything.”

Leave it to her father to focus on that. “Yeah, well, despite everything, I guess I have some pride left, and being discussed like a
child
left me a little wobbly. Besides, you can't honestly blame me, can you? I mean, you can thank Ellen for all the time I'm spending with—” she leaned toward him and lowered her voice “—
Bang 'em Booker,
right?”

Her father shifted in his seat, unable to sit still. She heard his teeth grind together, felt the frustration rolling off him in waves and identified with it.

A baby? The air left her lungs. Growing up, she'd always wanted a little brother or sister, but not
now
. And certainly not like this when it meant her dad would have a new life with a new wife and a new kid to replace the old one, the sick one who'd caused so many problems over the years. How could she possibly fit into a situation like that?

Her father released his breath in a rush, a slow nod turning into two, three. “You needed a job,” he murmured finally, “and Ellen thinks of Booker as a friend. She was trying to help you. That's why she did it. That's why he hired you, too. You played together way back when, were friends even though he got you into more trouble than not.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Because personally, after what you just said about her being—”

“I've been around thieves and crooks too long to not be able to tell when I'm being played. Booker gets my back up because of the way he treats women, but I'm not his judge or jury, and the man does have a way with patients. He treated that girl Anna with respect, gave her the help she needed and he helped Ellen quite a bit before I came into the picture, too. Just like he helped you by giving you a job.” He ran a hand over his face. “I don't care for his antics, but I see the good in him, too. Just like you need to see the good in Ellen.”

“Seeing the good doesn't explain how Ellen got
pregnant.
”

“Mel, Ellen isn't old by any means, but a baby at thirty-eight isn't something she'd do lightly. It just happened.”

Could it really be an accident?
Like she could judge?
“You'll be fifty in three years. Do you want to be a dad now?”

“I planned on marrying Ellen months ago. This is just—”

“Rushing things even
more,
” she declared, her throat closing up at the thought of the inevitable days ahead. “I didn't care for the idea before, but now I really don't like it. Dad, you can't marry her, pregnant or not.”

His expression closed in an instant. “Your blessing would be nice, but I'm
not
asking for your permission. I wanted to sit down and talk to you, to tell you myself with the hope that we could settle things between us before word got out. It's important for a family to stick together, and like it or not, Ellen is your family now. I expect you to stand by her in this.”

Melissa realized in that moment that she'd said the one thing she shouldn't have said. No one gave Hal York orders, and if they did, it was in preparation of being proved wrong. But she wasn't fighting against him, she was fighting
for
him, for her place in his life. And that angered her even more. “This is crazy. You know it is.”

“Why?” His gaze was searching, hard. “Because I want a life with a woman I love? Because I refuse to live with one foot in your mother's grave the way you do? You look so much like your mama, Mel, but she wasn't a coward.”

Shocked silence filled the void between them and Melissa stared at him, her body, her mind, reeling, her sharp gasp the only indication of her pain. The father who'd always supported her, stood by her and held her during the worst moments of her life, had broken her heart. He thought her a
coward?

Her dad leaned over the table, hands clasped together atop the pristine tablecloth, his knuckles white. She focused on them, remembering when they'd felt like the strongest hands in the world. Now they were letting go. No, they'd
let
go.

“You're not living, Melissa Ann, you're existing. You don't want me to marry Ellen. Don't want me to have another child, but the truth is you don't want to live because you're afraid to. You're afraid to move on,
afraid
to be happy. Too damned afraid despite the second chance you've been given. I want you to have what your mother and I had. What Ellen and I
have
. I don't want to bury another person I love because
you're too afraid
to take life by the horns and live while you can for as long as you can.”

Pain engulfed her. Her muscles ached and her stomach rolled, physical pain caused by overwhelming anguish that took her breath and left her gasping. She stared at him, lips parted, too angry to release the tears burning her eyes, too angry to do much more than hurt. “I'm not afraid. When the cancer comes back—”

“Not when, if!” His fist slammed down on the table.
“If!”

She swallowed tightly then tried to wet her dry lips. Her chest hurt, and it took every ounce of pride she had to remain
in the chair whispering over the table as if the topic of conversation held no more importance than the weather for the upcoming Little Miss Fall Parade.

“If you feel s-so strongly that you have to marry her, fine. Do it. But don't attack me or tell me how I should feel when you know
nothing
about losing a part of yourself. You don't
know
what it's like to have something in your body that's
killing
you and there's nothing you can do about it. I have every right to be afraid!”

His lashes lowered over his eyes, fuming yet full of tears. “Don't you sit there and tell me I don't know fear. I lost part of myself the day I lost your mother and don't you ever forget it or insinuate otherwise. Do not throw our marriage and the love we felt for each other in my face just so you can play the martyr.”

“I'm just trying to get you to
understand!
”

“I do. Better than you think. But unlike you, I'm not done with my life. Almost fifty or not, I'm marrying Ellen, I'm going to be a father again—and I'm going to enjoy every minute God allows me. Mel, I want the same for you, but you're not ever going to find happiness when you don't choose to try.”

“Things are different for me, and you know it. What guy wants to tie himself to a woman who's already got the scars to prove things aren't going to end happily? You can't compare my situation to yours and Mom's, and you certainly can't blame me for not wanting you to marry a woman who got herself pregnant to
trap
you!”

“Dammit, Mel, she isn't trapping me! And don't talk like that. We don't know how things will end.”

“Some of us do.”

“None of us do.
Some of us
just have to be in control, but it doesn't work that way. You live like you're already in a coffin. Have you ever considered that the man upstairs might
have a plan that requires you to live to be a hundred and ten? Are you going to spend the next eighty years alone and feeling sorry for yourself?”

“How do you expect me to move on when everyone tosses me back into that coffin every time I try to claw my way out of it?”

He opened his mouth to comment when his pager went off. Her dad swore, glanced at the number and swore again. Quite a day for a man who tried hard to keep his language in check and set a moral example both for his officers and his town.

“I've got to go.” He shoved himself up from the chair. “Mel, I'll pay the utilities until you draw a few checks and get on your feet. I talked to the judge today and to Joe before I came in. Ellen and I are getting married here in three weeks. If you want to come, do it with a smile on your face and acceptance in your heart, but if you can't—”

“Mind if I join you?”

Melissa turned to see Bryan standing nearby. She hadn't heard him approach. The few diners who'd been finishing up their dinners had mostly disappeared or chosen to take their desserts and coffee out on the patio. The rest openly gawked at them and she fought the urge to hide under the table. Had Bryan heard them?

“Yeah, Doc, you can.”

Her eyes widened at her father's response, then widened even more when he closed the distance between him and Bryan, not stopping until he stood nose-to-nose with him.

“Dad…
Dad?
” She was afraid her father's boiling temper and dislike of Bryan might get the best of him under the circumstances.

“I don't think it's possible you're anything other than what the gossips say, but the other night you helped that girl and I
saw the side of you Ellen keeps insisting is there. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt for the time being, but I want that man—the
doctor
—right here, right now.”

Bryan's gaze slid to her, then back to her father. “You've got me.”

“Good. In exchange for the meal I'm going to buy you,
Doc,
I want you to talk to Mel about living rather than dying.”

“Dad!”

Her father stalked off without another word, without looking back. He paused only long enough to hand money to Dara with muttered instructions and continue on his way. Melissa gaped after him, uncomfortably aware of Bryan watching her, of the
room
watching her.

“That must have been some father-daughter chat.” Bryan seated himself at the table.

She angled her head away from the other diners and fought back tears. It had been a long, mortifying day. Her emotions were threadbare and unraveling, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Bryan about her inability to—

“Melissa?”

“Enjoy dinner. I'll see you tomorrow morning—if you still want me to work for you after what I said to you today.”

“We were both out of line, and of course I want you working for me. Melissa—”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “Please, Bryan, not now. I can't do this. Not after—” she waved a hand to where her dad had disappeared “—that.”

His jaw firmed. “Fine, I'll see you tomorrow, then. But we will talk about this.”

“No, we won't. I don't want to discuss this with you.”

“Too bad.” His gaze caught hers and held. “I can't disappoint the chief of police, can I?”

Melissa grabbed her purse and headed for the door. Maybe Bryan couldn't, but she obviously did.

 

H
AL ENTERED
the dim interior of the eight-hundred-square-foot house, his gaze sharp and on the lookout for anything his officers might have missed. Like Miss Molly's, the place had been ransacked. Tables were overturned, glass shattered and broken, the bent head of the white-haired victim gaining his attention the moment Hal spotted him.

“Same as last time,” Nathan muttered, disgust heavy in his voice. “Right down to the running-out-of-gas excuse. The old man opened the door to help him out.”

“Prints?”

His officer shook his head. “Nothing yet. The perp makes such a mess we don't know what's what, and our victims aren't the best of housekeepers so when he fingers something, he's pulling away dust and leaving nothing behind.”

“What'd he get this time?”

“A VCR, a couple guns and a lot of pain pills and patches, things that'll give him an instant high.”

“Just what we need, some idiot out there high as a kite and packing. Did the old man get a description?”

“Single Caucasian male, young, probably early twenties, average build, average height, dark hair. Describes half the guys in town.”

Which left them nothing to go on. “Get the word out to the newspapers and churches. Make sure they warn people we've got a burglary scam going on, but have leads.”

Nathan raised a brow at the last statement.

“You heard me. We don't want to start a panic. Let's just warn the community and go from there.”