His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) (5 page)

She'd never been offered a ring.

The thought sliced through Melissa's overstressed brain. It might be mean, maybe even catty, but how fair was it that she'd never had a chance to walk down the aisle and probably never would?

“Melissa, I'm so glad you could join us. Please make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” Her voice emerged raspy, earning a suspicious glance from Bryan that she ignored.

Ellen's hands fluttered at her waist. “Your father just arrived. He's in the bathroom washing up and will be in shortly.”

Silence filled the air and they stood in the kitchen staring at each other. Seconds ticked by and still no one spoke.

Finally Bryan looked back and forth between the two of them and cleared his throat.

“Uh, why don't Melissa and I help you set the table or something? The sooner it's done, the sooner we eat.” He rubbed his hands together as though he couldn't wait, and the act drew a soft, high-pitched laugh from Ellen along with a touch to his arm.

Melissa wondered at their familiarity and studied the woman more closely. Ellen's short hair framed a face gently
lined but youthful. She wore a light dusting of makeup that enhanced her features, stylish glasses, a rust-colored shirt and a denim jumper with fall leaves and scarecrows stitched on the pockets. Men might not be scrambling to do a surgery-mutilated woman, but there was something homey about Ellen that put her in the do-able category.

“Thank you, Bryan, but everything is almost ready. Why don't you go sit down? Melissa, maybe you'd give me a hand?”

Bryan disappeared in a flash and Melissa glared at his back, wondering why she'd thought for a moment he'd stick around as a buffer. He was obviously on Ellen's side.

From somewhere in the interior of the house a door opened and familiar footfalls sounded across the old wood floors. She heard her father greet Bryan and the two of them began talking, the walls muting their deep voices.

“I guess we'd better get this on the table so you can all get back to work.” Ellen set to work dishing the food into large bowls and platters, and Melissa watched for a moment to see where things were kept before stepping forward to help. They performed the chore in tense silence, but when everything was ready to carry into the dining room, Ellen stilled and Melissa knew the moment had come. Her heart picked up speed and sweat beaded her forehead.
Why had she let Bryan talk her into this?

“Melissa, before we go in there I—I'd like to say something. I—I love your father very much. We never meant to hurt you by keeping our relationship private.”

Private, not secret. Melissa's grip tightened around the lip of the bowl she held, and she faced the woman who would become her stepmother at this late date in her life. Unless she made her father see that dating was one thing, and perfectly okay, but
marriage—

“Well that's all I wanted to say. I guess we'd better get this in there before it gets cold.”

Melissa nodded readily at the excuse to escape and started toward the dining room where Bryan and her father waited.

“Melissa?”

She should've known she couldn't get away so easily. She paused in the doorway.

“I don't expect you to like me right away, but please try to understand that we just want to be together. Hal needs to be loved for the man he is, not because he's your father or the chief or anyone else, but as a man. Surely you understand that?”

Melissa ignored Ellen's question and forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. The best thing to do was get the luncheon over with as quickly as possible and get out of there.

And she intended to do just that.

 

T
HE NEXT HOUR CONFIRMED
Melissa's fear that she had to work fast if anything she said or did was going to change her father's plans. The problem was exacerbated by the fact she still couldn't decide if Ellen's behavior was an act or not. Her dad was handsome, yes, but Ellen couldn't seem take her eyes off him. She touched her hair and smoothed it away from her cheek, listened with rapt attention to every word her dad spoke. She waited on him, refilled his iced-tea glass and smiled nonstop albeit shakily when she caught Melissa watching.

The woman displayed all the classic signs of being in love, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. Ellen was taking advantage of her father's loneliness. His pain. Why couldn't he see that? Melissa shoved her food around on her plate, not the least bit hungry.

“Anna was gone this morning when Ellen got up,” her father informed Bryan. The statement brought Melissa out of her daze.

“I just hope the poor girl called someone to come get her and didn't walk all the way home. She was hurting pretty bad when she went upstairs to lie down last night,” Ellen murmured.

Bryan sat with his head down, his gaze unfocused. He'd been devouring Ellen's cuisine seconds ago but now set his fork aside and shifted in his chair. “Sometimes no matter how much you want to help there's only so much you can do.” Bryan lifted his glass of tea but paused when the mug neared his lips. “Accepting it isn't easy, but you can't let that stop you from helping others.”

“I agree. And she'll be back,” her dad said with a nod. “Once the abuse starts it only escalates. I have a feeling we'll be getting more calls about that girl.”

The mood around the room darkened even more, but thankfully Bryan changed the topic by asking about the toy drive. From then on Bryan and her dad kept the conversation on lighter subjects and ignored her poor manners and silence. While they discussed town politics, gas prices and upcoming events, she felt the gap between her and her dad widening.

Finally an hour had gone by, and Melissa pushed herself to her feet. “Um, you know, lunch was great, but I've—we've got to get going.” Her dad shot her a disappointed look she ignored. “Sorry, but we've got a lot of files to go through and put away before I leave to get ready for Ashley's baby shower. Right now they're covering the entire reception area.”

“She's right,” Bryan agreed, scooting his chair back to stand. “I'm Joe's entertainment while the ladies are partying, so if I don't show up to get him, Ashley'll have my head. Ellen, lunch was phenomenal as always. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. I'll be sure to save some leftovers for you. Come get them this evening for dinner if you like.”

Melissa watched the exchange, noting her dad didn't look particularly happy at the thought of Bryan dropping by. Why? Did he know something about the two of them? Had Bryan and Ellen had a thing? If the rumors of his conquests were true…

Bryan picked up his plate. “How about we help you carry in the dishes?”

Melissa glanced at her father and flushed when she read his expression. She should've been the one to offer, not Bryan. She should've thanked her hostess, should've been more friendly. Should've eaten her food and not been the first to jump to her feet to leave. “The least we can do is clear the table for you.”

“No, no, don't worry about that.” Ellen looked as relieved as she was that the gathering had come to an end. “I'll take care of them, you two go on. The last time I was in that office, it looked like a hurricane had blown through.” Ellen shooed them again. “Leave those dishes alone, and go get your work done so you can have some fun later.”

Melissa avoided her father and followed Bryan to the dining-room door, adding her goodbyes to his. They made their way through the kitchen and out into the afternoon sun before she could comfortably breathe a sigh. “Thank you so much for talking me into that.”

Bryan winced. “The claws came out, huh? I thought we'd have to leave when you came into the dining room looking ready for battle. You barely spoke at all and didn't eat a thing.”

“Trust me, I wasn't hungry after Ellen pulled me aside for a little talk in the kitchen.”

“Are you that upset that Ellen called me to help you find a job?”

She nearly stumbled going up the steps.
Ellen had called him to
—

Bryan unlocked and opened the door. “She cares for your father, Melissa, no doubt about it. Like I said— What?”

“You
hired
me because of
her?
” Anger surged through her, propelled by hurt and embarrassment. “How could you— Let go!”

Bryan had grasped her upper arm and was looking over her shoulder toward Ellen's home before he maneuvered her inside.

“Let
go!
”

He did. But only after he'd shut the door and placed his broad palm against the metal panel by her head, trapping her. The hair on his forearm teased her cheek and all her senses reacted, leaving her no room to escape.

“What do you think you're doing?” Her breathing became gasping pants she tried to control, every inhalation bringing with it the tantalizing scent of his cologne. Bryan used to smell like boy and dog and peanut butter sandwiches.

“I'm setting the record straight before you embarrass all of us.” His head lowered until he was at eye level with her. “You and Ellen didn't talk about that in the kitchen, did you?”

She almost smirked, would've if she'd found the situation the slightest bit funny. But Bryan admitting he'd only hired her because of Ellen… She couldn't laugh about that. “Nope.”

He swore softly. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have opened my big mouth and—”

“Don't be sorry. I'm glad I know. It makes things a lot easier.”

He stilled. “What things?”

“I quit.”

“Oh no, you don't. Melissa, it isn't what you think,” he murmured huskily.

“How do you get that? Because what I
think
is that Ellen somehow convinced you to hire me, which gets you the help you need, me out of the way and Ellen the marriage she wants.”

“I admit Ellen was the person who told me you were looking for work, but she didn't make me hire you and to insinuate she has that power implies a deeper relationship than friendship. Something I'm certain your father wouldn't appreciate.”

Meaning they were more than friends—or had been—and her dad suspected? Was that why her dad hadn't liked the idea of Bryan returning for leftovers? “If not because of her then why
did
you hire me?”

Did it matter why? Melissa tried to sink into the unyielding door to escape, but it didn't work. And it did matter. She might be desperate to reestablish her independence, but she couldn't handle being thought of as a charity case by her childhood
friend.

“Didn't we go over this last night? I hired you because I figured—” Bryan's voice lowered to a gravelly pitch “—you'd want to prove everyone who thinks you're too fragile or ill or unemployable wrong. I hired you because a long time ago, we were friends.” His eyes glittered in the dimness, the Exit sign above their heads giving his sandy-golden hair and body an orangish cast. “We're both in a predicament here. I have an opening, you need a job. If you've changed your mind, tell me now and let's be done with this, but don't blame Ellen or me because you're not up to the challenge of working for me.”

Not up to the— “It's not that simple and you know it.” She shook her head, thankful the movement had him taking note of the lack of space separating them and drawing back. For
once he appeared as uncomfortable as she felt, but she was too angry to appreciate the fact. “I don't like Ellen or you or anyone else thinking I can't find a job on my own.”

“Then prove you're up to keeping it.”

“Prove I'm up to—You think I can't do it?” Melissa shoved a finger hard into his chest. “Back off, Booger Boy,” she said, using the nickname he'd earned long ago, “and watch me.”

M
ELISSA FITTED
the floppy hat more firmly to her head and tried not to notice the surprised glances sent her way. She opened the back door of her car and retrieved Ashley's baby-shower gifts, resisting the urge to dive inside and hide.

How she had wound up here in the first place was still a mystery. At least to her. The party was being held by Mrs. H. and the garden club that Ashley belonged to, and while Melissa had always adored Mrs. H., she wasn't quite sure she was ready to face the townspeople at so public a function. Attending the B and B's opening-day celebration was one thing, but Ashley's
baby shower?

But she couldn't decline. Not when the news would spread and cause more gossip. So she had to attend the baby shower with a smile on her face and pretend it didn't hurt to think of Joe becoming a parent again.

She wanted her ex to be happy. He deserved to be happy after all he'd been through because of her and the town that had judged him so unjustly—but wanting him happy and dealing with it while oohing and aahing over tiny diapers and baby outfits was just too much. Or maybe just punishment?

After coming to the house with Bryan to tell her the truth about Josie's death, Ashley had periodically called to check on her. Short conversations about nothing and everything. As
Melissa's recovery had progressed so had their relationship. Now she considered Ashley a friend, but still… Did Ashley realize what kind of attention and gossip Melissa's attendance would bring?

Melissa stepped onto the carefully laid stepping-stone path leading around the house and pulled at the neckline of her dress. Several women passed, touring the grounds, and Melissa managed a strained smile in response to their polite nods. Realizing she still tugged at her dress, she forced her hand to her side as she approached the bricked patio off the back porch of the B and B, noticing her reflection in a nearby window. She grimaced when she saw how her wide-brimmed hat covered her short hair and made her look bald. Compared to the tiny, ribboned concoctions the other women wore, her hat was close kin to a sombrero.

Panicked, Melissa yanked the hat from her head. Short hair did have some advantages after all—it didn't mess easily. Hat in hand, she discreetly checked her reflection again. Her loose, A-line dress looked more matronly and old-fashioned than anything the other guests wore. Filmy, halter-style sheaths with cleavage-baring Vs and split hems were the items of choice. Unease filled her and she struggled to maintain her composure. This was such a mistake. Maybe she could go in, leave her gift and sneak out the front?

“Melissa! Hello, dear! I just heard your wonderful news.”

Mrs. Hilliard, known as Mrs. H. by most everyone under the age of forty due to the woman's many years of teaching high school English, held out both her hands in greeting. Smiling shakily, Melissa allowed the woman to draw her close for a hug.

“What news?” she asked, smiling at the older woman's cherry-red hat and fifties-style purple dress. On Mrs. H. the look was perfect.

“Your job, dear. Working for Dr. Booker will put you on the right track for earning some money to go back to college. You'll finish your teaching degree in no time.”

Melissa blinked. “Oh, but I'm not going back to school.”

Mrs. H.'s gaze narrowed shrewdly. “I see. And why not?”

Melissa faltered beneath the other woman's stare. “Um…”

“You had nearly completed your course work when you got sick, correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then you must return and get your degree.” The older woman peered intensely through the wide black rims of her glasses. “My dear, you were a wonderful student and one of the brightest, most courageous young women I know.”

“I'm no one special, Mrs. H.”

She patted her hand. “Nonsense. You are a fighter, child. The fact you're standing here proves it, and that ability and insight is something children need. Now I insist you go to the college the very next chance you get and pick up a course listing.”

Melissa stared at her, wondering why everyone seemed to have more faith in her and her recovery than she did. “Mrs. H., the cancer might come back.”

“Of course it might,” Mrs. H. confirmed, “but it might not, and then what will you have to show for yourself? You won't have lived up to your potential.” Mrs. H. patted her hand again and nodded firmly before she walked away to greet another guest.

Melissa mulled over her former teacher's comments during the next hour as the party moved inside out of the heat. She'd always dreamed of following in Mrs. H.'s footsteps and becoming a teacher. So why not return and get her degree?

Investing in college, applying and fighting for a position
meant she planned to
have
a future. But the one thing she'd promised herself from the moment she'd been diagnosed with cancer was that she wouldn't lie to herself. Treatments had advanced so that the survival rate was excellent, but how could she be sure?

She studied the women occupying Ashley's large parlor room, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation. Nearly all talked of kids and grandkids and activities, husbands and weddings in the works. The only thing she could think about was Mrs. H.'s words.

“Melissa? You okay?” Ashley murmured, returning from the bathroom for the third time.

She blinked and focused on her friend, her smile weak. She was supposed to be writing down the gifts and who'd given them, not people watching or feeling sorry for herself. “I'm fine.”

“You look really distracted.” Ashley glanced around at her guests, a frown pulling at her lips. She leaned down and lowered her voice. “I've heard the talk, too, but you have to ignore it and let the old busybodies eat their words later when we don't wind up in a catfight over Joe.”

Melissa laughed. Leave it to Ashley.

“That's more like it. See? If it doesn't bother me, it shouldn't bother you. Did someone say something insensitive to you? Because if they did—”

“I'm
fine,
” she insisted with another small laugh, seeing Ashley's protectiveness surfacing and appreciating it because it was directed at her. Having grown up in a group home for children, Ashley was very protective of those she considered friends. “I'm just…thinking about something that's going on with my dad. I'll tell you about it later.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sit down and open your presents,” she ordered with a smile. “If you keep going to the bathroom every two minutes, you're never going to finish unwrapping all your gifts.”

Ashley smiled, but for the first time since her friend had returned, Melissa noticed a difference in Ashley. A big difference. Her posture, her expression. “Ashley?” Her eyes widened. “Ashley, are you in—”

“Yes.”

“Then shouldn't you—”

“No.” Ashley gave her a
keep quiet
glare, inhaled deeply and locked her jaw. A moment passed and then Ashley smiled, but it was tense. “I want to stay home as long as possible. I went to the hospital way too early with Max and hated it, all the waiting and being stuck in bed. I want to be home and comfortable. Please, don't say anything. I have plenty of time. My contractions only just started.”

“Ready for more gifts, Ashley?”

Ashley seated herself beside Melissa and turned to face Mrs. H. The older woman set a gift bag on Ashley's knees, but when Ashley gasped from the onset of another, obviously harder, contraction, Mrs. H. removed the bag, and then clapped her hands together in rapid succession much like she had in high school.

“Ladies! Congratulations
are
in order today. Ashley is in labor!”

Melissa smiled at her red-faced friend. “So much for keeping it quiet.”

 

B
RYAN WATCHED
while Joe dribbled the basketball and prepared to make his move. Before he could, Bryan charged forward and stole the ball from Joe with a taunting grin.

“Think you're something, huh, pretty boy?”

Bryan pivoted, careful to keep the ball out of Joe's reach. His heart raced from exertion and he dripped with sweat, but since discovering sex with greedy, manipulative, superficial women had lost its appeal, this was the next best thing. “Voted Number-one Doctor by my patients,” he drawled smugly, using the one title he didn't mind receiving from the
Tribune
's contest.

Joe snickered. “That newspaper contest is rigged. Number-one Bozo is more like it.” He made a grab for the ball.

Bryan spun away, feinted, took a shot and made it. “
Yeah!
We're tied!”

“I've been taking it easy on you.”

“Bull.” Bryan used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and jogged over to retrieve the ball. “Since Ashley fell, you haven't made love to your wife and it shows. No wonder she asked me to get you out of the house for the baby shower. She didn't want you hanging around scaring away the guests.”

Joe lifted both hands, fingers making a
bring it on
gesture. “At least my celibacy makes sense. Yours makes me wonder if you've decided you like guys. You and Holly broke up a long time ago—”

“We were never dating exclusively.”

“—and Ashley didn't want me around because she felt ridiculous in the getup she had to wear. Who's ever heard of a tea party for a baby shower?”

Bryan shrugged and the game began again. He started with the ball, Joe took it, but Bryan blocked his shot.

“You won't hurt her, Joe. If her OB says she's fine, she is. Sex might actually help the process along.
And,
” he continued, waving his arms high, “if I want sex I can get it. Anywhere, anytime. That's not the problem. I've just…de
cided to be more selective. I like a challenge.” Bryan didn't follow Joe's lunge to one side as expected and when Joe swung around to shoot again, Bryan was ready for him, the ball his.

Sweat dripped off Joe's nose and he positioned himself to guard Bryan. “So long as that challenge isn't a short-haired blonde who wouldn't give you the time of day
despite
the way you kept staring at her.”

Bryan stumbled before quickly regaining his balance, but it gave Joe the advantage he needed to steal the ball and score.

“Twenty-nineteen,” Joe crowed. “The pretty boy's goin' down!”

“I wasn't staring,” Bryan groused. “And if I learned anything from getting involved with Holly, it's what a disaster it is to mix business with pleasure.”

Joe gave him a befuddled look. “What's work got to do with Melissa?”

He grabbed a water bottle to rinse his dry mouth and spit. “If you haven't heard the gossip you're probably the only one. I hired her yesterday.” Bryan regretted his words when Joe's eyes widened.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he murmured uneasily, aware that Joe wasn't thrilled by the idea. “What?”

“Nothing. Just keep it on the up-and-up. Mel's a sweet girl.”

“She isn't a girl.”

“As her boss you shouldn't be noticing that.”

But how could he not notice? He'd arrived at the B and B to pick Joe up and found himself surrounded by women in floaty, ultrafeminine dresses and hats, Melissa included. The wide brim of her hat had drawn attention to her delicate face
and wide, full mouth. The dark blue of her dress had highlighted her eyes, deepening the color to cobalt, and the sight of her had stunned him because while the majority of the women's blatantly skimpy dresses were fashionable, Melissa's modest choice had affected him more.

Not notice? Despite unearthing that nightmare of a nickname she'd taunted him with as a child, seeing her had almost sent him over the edge with lust. He'd actually wanted to stay, to watch while Melissa smiled and chatted. She'd looked…fresh. Different from the other women and infinitely more appealing. Enough to make a man want to kiss the protest from her lips and slip his hands beneath the simple skirt and—

“She looked nice,” he muttered, yanking himself away from his fantasy before it got too out of hand. Melissa was his
friend
. “Big deal. It doesn't change the fact that in a couple hours at the office she did more than all the others combined. Why would I do anything to screw that up?”

“Who said you were thinking about it?” Joe countered, bouncing the ball with irritating ease. “Wait—
you
just did. I'm warning you, B., back off. She doesn't need you messing with her the way you did the others.”

Bryan tossed the water bottle aside and rejoined the game, closing the distance in three long, running strides and ignoring the arm Joe stretched out to hold him back. “She's an
employee
.”

“But you were just thinking about her as more, weren't you?”

“Talk or play, Brody.”

Joe lunged to one side, dribbling the ball with him. “She's a nice girl.”

“I never said she wasn't,” Bryan snapped, wanting Joe to drop the subject…and the ball.

“Too nice for you. But Ashley claims you're a decent guy—”

“Your wife talks about me, eh?”

Joe's already dark expression turned thunderous. “Not that way—and if you hadn't kept your hands to yourself when you two went out that night, you'd be choking on this ball, so get that look off your face.”

Bryan grinned, the advantage his once more. “Uh-huh. Have to admit, Joe, she is a good kisser.”

Instead of egging him on, Joe abruptly tossed his head back and laughed, the hand possessing the ball unwavering. “Nice try, pretty boy. Ashley ended your date by kissing you
on the cheek,
but I guess a loser who's gone so long without gettin' any would look back at that and consider it a kiss.”

Bryan prepared to make his move. “Maybe I've just been hanging around you too much and become addle brained by your endless musings about how great marriage is.”