Small-Town Cinderella (The Pirelli Brothers) (10 page)

“The uniform?”

Her echoed words dragged him back from his heated thoughts, and a decade-old memory surfaced. How Debbie had complained to Sophia not long after she’d first started working behind the counter.

I look like a strawberry ice cream cone,
she’d said.
Pink on top and tan on the bottom.

Ten years on, and Drew doubted her opinion of the shirt and pants had improved, and yet she still wore them every day at work. “The uniform. Even the name,” he finished. “You haven’t changed any of it.”

“This was my mother’s dream, and keeping the name is my way of keeping that dream alive. It was her bakery long before I took over, and she loved it.”

And Debbie didn’t.

The thought startled Drew, but he realized it was true. Just because she baked like a dream and greeted every customer who walked into her shop with a smile, he’d assumed running the bakery was all she’d ever wanted to do. He’d never asked, never even considered, that she might have wanted something different—something more....

Could the excitement and adventure she was seeking in her personal life be due in part to feeling so stifled professionally? If Debbie felt free to branch out at the bakery, might she then be more willing to settle down into a relationship? Say, a relationship with him?

To Drew, it all made sense, though he couldn’t help wondering if he wasn’t twisting logic so Debbie’s vision of the future would dovetail into his own. One thing he knew was that trying to force those pieces to fit wouldn’t work. He’d have to be patient, something that had never been a problem for him in the past. So why did he already feel so restless?

Maybe because wanting Debbie, wanting that future, was so much bigger, so much more important than anything he’d wanted before....

For now, he’d settle for seeing that spark back in her eyes, one that had dimmed as they talked about her mother, so he was glad when she responded by teasing, “And when I thought about changing the name, I got stuck on the whole alliteration thing and I just couldn’t get around Debbie’s Donuts.”

“Debbie’s Donuts...Mattson’s Muffins,” he supplied.

“So you see my dilemma.”

“I do,” he agreed. But solving it would have to wait for another day. Once he’d considered how he could encourage Debbie to reach for her own dreams while still holding true to her mother’s. “I hope you understand my dilemma, too.”

“What’s that?”

“How I’m supposed to pick just one favorite,” he said as he reached for another plate.

The spark was back as Drew quickly devoured three more minicupcakes—one with chunks of toffee inside and a matching frosting, another with macadamia nuts and a white-chocolate icing and the last with a hint of orange. Though they all were delicious, none could beat the first one, but Debbie was wearing a secret smile as she reached for the final plate.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything since I don’t want to influence your opinion but...this is my favorite.” She lifted the minicupcake, stepping close enough for him to feel her body heat and to catch a hint of her scent—as delicious and tempting as anything she’d ever made in this kitchen. Did she know, he wondered, that she was doing so much more than influencing his
opinion?
From that seductive, secret smile, he’d bet she did.

And what was that old saying? If you can’t take the heat...

Well, they were already in the kitchen.

Drew raised a hand, but instead of taking the cake from Debbie, he wrapped his fingers around hers and guided her hand to his mouth. The combination of flavors—a hint of pumpkin and spice mixed with chunks of dark chocolate and a shot of coffee—was to die for. But it was the mix of emotions on her face—awareness, anticipation, desire—that had him coming back for more. He savored the tiny dessert, making it last bite after bite, until there was nothing left to do but lick the last traces of frosting from her fingers....

The tug and pull of his mouth against her skin send a rush of sweet, rich heat pouring through Debbie’s veins. The sensation pooled in her belly and sapped strength, turning her bones to molten chocolate. Her legs trembled and her head tipped back. All that from his mouth against her fingers. Just the thought of those skilled lips teasing and tormenting more intimate flesh...

A delicious shiver racked her whole body. Drew’s dark gaze held her captive—watching and knowing just what he was doing to her—and yet she couldn’t look away. “Drew.”

His name was little more than a gasp for breath and his answer little more than a wicked grin. “Looks like you were right.”

“I was?” She swallowed hard, trying to gather her scrambled wits. “Oh, good. I always like being right. What is it I’m right about again?”

His grin grew even bigger and even more wicked. “This is my favorite.”

Debbie didn’t know if he was talking about tasting the cupcakes or tasting
her,
but then he was kissing her and she couldn’t think at all. He framed her face in his hands as he deepened the kiss, his fingers splayed wide, as if he felt the same desperation to touch, to taste, to experience all he could in a stolen moment of time.

She slid her hands up his back, the material of his shirt denying the skin-against-skin friction she craved. She fisted her hands, but warm cotton was no substitute for hot skin. He pulled her tight, and she no longer cared that her bones were melting because it made it so much easier for him to meld her body to his. Her curves met the hardened planes and angles of his masculine form—softening, conforming, blending with a sense of perfection she’d never experienced before.

The panicked feeling came out of nowhere, a cold splash of reality. She didn’t want perfect or permanent or lasting. She wanted— Drew’s mouth trailed across her cheek, his breathing as ragged and gasping as her when she moaned his name.

She wanted Drew.

No.
Well, yes, she wanted him. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—fall for him. Not because it would be hard, but because it would be all too easy.

“This is crazy,” she breathed, knowing it wouldn’t take much more for her whole body to break from the sheer pleasure. She was barely aware of speaking the words. She certainly hadn’t meant them as a criticism, but Drew stilled, caught on the razor’s edge that gripped them both.

Oh, please, let this be happening to both of them.

His breath was hot, rasping, against her shoulder. The tension held his body tight to hers, but Debbie’s awareness gradually expanded from the circle of Drew’s arms to their surroundings—the batches of cupcakes she still needed to frost, the icing likely hardening in the bowls, the kitchen Bonnie had treated like sacred ground. Her mother would be scandalized.

Drew slowly straightened away from her, humor banking some of the heat in his gaze. “I’m starting to think crazy is a good thing.”

The so un-Drewlike statement startled a laugh from her. “Since when?” she asked as the moment of levity eased the pressure on her chest and cooled some of the raging desire.

At least until he answered, “Since I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. Since I can’t stop thinking about the next time I’ll have you in my arms again.”

A hint of a question lingered in his words. Asking for a next time? Or was it a subtle proposition that they find someplace to better continue
this
time? Her tiny apartment, a dozen steps away up the staircase...

Her heart pounded so loudly, she wondered if Drew could hear it beating its way out of her chest. “We could—”

The ring of the phone cut off whatever Debbie might have said, and she exhaled a dizzying breath—half relief, half disappointment—as she didn’t even know what her answer might have been. The machine picked up almost immediately, and Sophia’s voice filled the space.

“Hey, Deb!”

And just like that, Debbie’s awareness reached even further, far beyond the intimate circle she and Drew still created, beyond the kitchen and bakery, to Clearville and the outside world. A world that included loving and nosy friends and, in Drew’s case, family who would have their own ideas of what her next step with Drew should be. And the step after that and the step after that, all the way to a walk down the aisle.

“Just wanted to let you know we’re having a get-together this weekend and you have to come,” Sophia’s happy voice continued. “I want to hear all about karaoke night! Did your amazing voice knock some gorgeous guy’s socks off—or maybe some other article of clothing?” Her teasing laughter ended with “Call me!”

Judging by Drew’s frown, he wasn’t amused. “I think I need to have a talk with Jake about my little sister. Married life is supposed to be settling her down.”

“It has. Now she’s trying to live vicariously through me. She’s the one who sent me the info on the singles’ group.”

The frown darkened to a scowl. “Definitely going to have a talk.”

“I doubt it will do much good. I keep telling her I’m not interested in a serious relationship, but your sister is on a mission. Ever since she got married, she’s been pushing me to find someone of my own. It’s that whole happy-couple-in-love thing where they want everyone else to be part of a happy couple in love, too.”

“You think I haven’t had my share of that? We’re going to have three weddings in my family within a year. My mother would like nothing more than to see me matched up. The odd number is playing hell with her seating chart at family dinners.”

Debbie could easily picture Vanessa Pirelli’s exasperation. “Well, there’s always Maddie.”

“Ah, you’re forgetting about Timmy. My niece and nephew are the cute couple at the kiddie table. I’m surprised my mom hasn’t kicked me out onto the back porch.”

His words brought Sophia’s invitation to mind, along with memories of dozens of other Pirelli gatherings Debbie had attended over the years. They were as close to family as she had and Sophia was her best friend. If things didn’t work out with Drew and if it ended up costing her that connection, that friendship...

“All of which makes this thing between us that much more complicated. If your family finds out about us—”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Debbie.”

“Still, it’s not too late, you know.”

His brow furrowed as his eyebrows pulled together. “For what?”

“To forget all of this and pretend none of it ever happened.”

“Oh, yes it is. I’m going to remember your kiss for the rest of my life.”

Her breath caught at his roughly murmured words. Words that said exactly what she was thinking, how she was feeling. Years from now, when she did look back, did she really only want to have kisses to remember?

Not a chance!

Drew was right. It was too late to go back. Too late to do anything but go forward.

“We’re really going to do this? Have a fling?” Her face heated as she blurted out the word. It sounded so silly, but
affair
had too much of a negative ring to it, and Debbie just couldn’t bring herself to ask if he wanted to have sex with her. “So...how are we going to do this?”

A sexy glint entered his gaze. “Oh, I figure the usual way.”

Judging by the way he could jump-start her heart with something as simple as a smile, Debbie doubted there’d be anything
usual
about it. Still... “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” That killer grin was back. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Not exactly an answer. At least not one she could blindly accept after taking care of herself for so long. “But—”

He silenced her with another quick kiss. “No questions or you’ll ruin the surprise. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Adventure, excitement, mystery... Wasn’t that exactly what she’d wished for at Darcy’s bachelorette party? Drew was offering all that and more. She’d never imagined he would be the man to sweep her off her feet, but now that he had, all she could do was hold on tight and enjoy the ride...for as long as it lasted.

Chapter Eight

D
rew had never claimed to be an over-the-top romantic. If he had, he was sure his former girlfriends would have quickly disabused him of that notion. In all honesty, he’d never put himself totally on the line when it came to women. Oh, sure, he’d asked out plenty, but he’d always been relatively assured of a positive response. Pursuing an uninterested woman had always struck him as a waste of time and, well, somewhat unnecessary when far more receptive members of the opposite sex could be found.

Not that Debbie was uninterested. He had no doubts about the chemistry between them. But he wanted more than a physical relationship. He wanted
Debbie
to want more than a physical relationship. More than the secret “fling” she’d proposed. Sure, he’d agreed. What red-blooded man in his right mind wouldn’t? And he’d admit he wasn’t ready to put his feelings on display for all of Clearville to see, especially when he knew Debbie didn’t feel the same way. At least, not yet.

He’d always been one to keep his emotions close to the vest, to play things safe. But safe wouldn’t do in the relationship he wanted with Debbie. He wanted the scary, reckless, no-holds-barred kind of love he used to think was out of his grasp. She’d pushed him out of his comfort zone, made him question everything he thought he knew when it came to the line between friendship and love.

After his breakup with Angie, he’d realized their relationship lacked that intrinsic connection he sensed bound his parents together. A connection Nick had found with Darcy, Jake with Sophia and Sam with Kara. He’d been ready to believe his ex was right, and he simply didn’t have the necessary depth of emotion inside. But Angie had been wrong. His feelings for Debbie were beyond anything he’d felt for another woman, and going there was a giant leap for Drew, one he was ready to take.

He’d made reservations at an upscale restaurant located inside a newly built five-star hotel in Redfield. He thought he might hear from Debbie after sending her his “invitation” but she hadn’t called, leaving him to wonder if she would show.

Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a beer but barely raised the bottle for than a few swallows. His attention and his cravings were all focused on the door to the restaurant as he waited.

He hadn’t realized exactly how nervous he was that Debbie might not show until the moment she walked into the restaurant. His breath escaped in a rush and he sank back against the padded back of the leather bar stool. From his vantage point in the bar, he had a perfect chance to study her unnoticed. She looked...breathtaking.

The restaurant’s décor was a combination of rustic and elegant with its rough-hewn, exposed-beam ceiling and river-rock fireplace illuminated by bronze sconces and blown-glass chandeliers. Her blond hair glinted in the ambient lighting, and her soft skin was awash in a golden glow. His blood heated at just how much of that skin was revealed by her pale blue strapless dress. Black lace outlined the bodice and flirted with the hem, splitting his gaze between the curves of her breasts and shapely legs. She walked with confidence despite the spiky black heels she wore, but Drew could see a hint of nerves as she pushed her hair back behind one ear.

After thanking the hostess and taking a seat at the table, she glanced around the restaurant, but her gaze didn’t travel toward his corner of bar. Seeming to come to the conclusion that she’d arrived first, Debbie glanced at the leather-bound menu. The waiter stopped by, and though Drew was too far away to hear the conversation, he watched her wave to the opposite side of the booth and figured she’d told the waiter she would wait for the rest of her party to arrive before ordering.

Her patience played into his plan perfectly. Catching the bartender’s eye, he waved the younger man over. “I’d like to send a glass of champagne to the woman in the corner booth.”

The bartender grinned. “Yes, sir. Anything else for you?” he asked with a nod to his lone beer.

“No, thanks,” he responded.

When the bartender delivered the flute of champagne to Debbie, she took another look around the restaurant. This time, she spotted him in the bar. Her eyes lit up, and the smile she sent him hit his chest with the force of a sledgehammer.

Leaving some cash on the bar for the beer and champagne, Drew walked over to the small booth. His heart pounded, and he felt like a kid at his first school dance. It was crazy to feel so nervous about approaching someone he’d known almost his whole life. Then he caught sight of the tiny pendant she wore on a delicate gold chain around her neck, and some of the tightness in his chest eased.

She offered him a small smile so different from the bright grin she normally wore. “Hi.”

“Hey. I see you got my invitation.”

Her hand rose to finger the crystal slipper nestled at the hollow of her throat. “I did. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“If the glass slipper fits...”

Even in the faint lighting, he could see the blush coloring her cheeks. She glanced around the restaurant, evading his gaze, as she said, “I’ve never been here before. Have you?”

“No, but from what I hear, the food’s great and the atmosphere is...intimate and quiet. Perfect for getting to know each other.”

“Right.” She gave a soft laugh. “Because you haven’t known me since birth.”

“I’ve known you as my kid sister’s friend and as one of my friends. But this—this is different. And I bet there are hundreds of interesting things I don’t know about you.”

Doubt raised one of her eyebrows. “Like what?”

“You tell me. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“My favorite color?” she teased. “The first boy I kissed?”

“Blue,” he answered. “And no, you better not tell me about the first boy you kissed, because I probably know him, and if you told me, I’d be tempted to go kick his ass.”

“For a kiss that happened over a decade ago?” She laughed.

“Hey, you still remember it.”

“Yes, and I remember thinking it was gross. Which is not at all what I’ve been thinking about more recent kisses. But I suspect that is something you already know.” Their gazes caught and held as memories played between them of those stolen moments. “Now, for something you don’t know...”

A door at the back of the restaurant swung open, and a waiter stepped out carrying a large tray holding steaming entrees for a nearby table. She followed the waiter’s progress before looking back at Drew. “My senior year of high school, I was accepted into a culinary school in San Francisco. I wanted to study to be a chef and get a job running a kitchen in a place like this.”

He’d asked for a piece of her life, something he hadn’t known, but her response was more than that. It was the answer to the question he’d had, the something
more
that she’d longed for. This was the dream working in the bakery wasn’t enough to fulfill.

“You’re right. I had no idea.”

“When I got the news, I was so excited,” she said with a bittersweet smile. “My mom’s cancer had been in remission for a few years, and I had such big dreams....” Her voice faded away along with her smile, and even though it happened a long time ago, Drew felt like he was watching those dreams fade away, too.

Because while he might not have known Debbie had been accepted to culinary school, he knew why she hadn’t gone. Bonnie’s illness had returned. And whatever hopes, whatever dreams Debbie might have had during the time when her mother’s health was good had slipped away once more.

“I’m sorry, Debbie. I knew about your mom and how you’d taken over for her, but I wish I’d—I don’t know...been there for you somehow.”

“You were at college most of that time. Besides, there wasn’t anything you could have done.”

Drew’s jaw tightened even though he didn’t want to admit those words hurt a little. He’d known going in that Debbie had an independent streak. And while he knew he couldn’t have done anything about her mother’s illness, he still could have been there for Debbie. Because that was what you did when you lo—
Cared
about someone. You stood by their side, and he refused to believe that didn’t have some value.

Reaching over, he entwined his fingers with hers. “I could have held your hand, and let you know you weren’t alone.”

For a long time she didn’t respond. But when she looked up from their joined hands, he caught the sheen of tears in her blue eyes. “I would have liked that,” she said huskily.

“You know, it’s not too late. If there’s something else you want to do, something other than running the bakery—”

“I can’t,” she protested. “The bakery was my mother’s dream, and with her gone...it would be like losing the only part of her I have left.”

“I know how hard that would be, but what about
your
dreams?”

“I let them go a long time ago,” she said, as if referring to some old toys a child had outgrown or last year’s clothes that were no longer in fashion. Something meaningless and easily forgotten.

Everything inside him rebelled at the thought. Debbie was so bright, so beautiful inside and out, he couldn’t stand knowing she’d given up on her dreams. On all dreams. Was that why she was willing to settle for a temporary relationship? Because she wasn’t ready to believe they could have anything more?

“Debbie—”

“What about you?” she interrupted before he could say more. “Tell me something about Drew Pirelli I don’t already know.”

Something she didn’t know... His feelings for her tumbled around inside him, but he wasn’t any more ready to put those emotions into words than Debbie was to hear them. So he settled for something far less complicated. “I’m building a house.”

“You’re a contractor, Drew. No real secret there.”

Her teasing smile was enough to heat his blood to the point of making him want to run a finger under his collar. “No, I’m, um, building my own house.”

Sitting back in her chair, she said, “You’re right. I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve pretty much only told my family.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always felt like I put something of myself in the custom homes I build for my clients, but this is different. All the decisions, all the planning—” he gave a short laugh “—all the hard work is going into something I’m building for myself, and that’s made it all much more personal. And I guess I’d rather wait and have everyone see the finished product. The hard-work part isn’t always pretty.”

“I think I know what you mean. Wedding cakes are the same way. Even after the crumb coat—that’s a first layer of icing used to smooth out the surface of the cake—sometimes I worry that the cake’s just not going to come together. That it will be lopsided or the layers will start to sag or even break. I’d never want a bride to see a cake before it’s finished down to the last sugar pearl.” She sipped her champagne. “So this house? Did you design it yourself?”

“I did.”

“I remember at one time you were interested in studying to be an architect.”

“That’s where I started out. At first, everything was great. I loved the precision of designing a house. Of finding the right blend between a house that looks like a showplace but still feels like a home. Of seeing something I’d imagined take shape on paper.”

“So what changed?”

“A few semesters in, I started an internship at an architecture firm. The time there gave me a really good feel for what the job would be like, just how much time would be spent behind a desk, working on blueprints or on conference calls and in planning meetings. It was enough to make me realize it wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. And it wasn’t enough to just see my designs on paper. I wanted to see them come to life as I built them with my own hands.”

“Judging by how successful your company is, I’d say you made the right choice.”

“I’m glad business has taken off the way it has, but even if the company was struggling, I’d still know I made the right decision.”

Because he’d had the opportunity to follow
his
dreams. Debbie had given up her own without complaint to care for her mother.

“I think you’re incredible, you know that?”

Debbie blinked at the left-field compliment, a soft blush covering her cheeks. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, there you go—something about
you
that you didn’t know.”

He was pretty sure she also didn’t know how much he wanted to reach for her across the small table. To kiss her until they were both breathless and wanting more. But then her blush deepened even more, and he wondered if maybe she did....

The waiter cleared his throat, and Drew cursed the interruption as Debbie pulled her hand from his to smooth the napkin at her lap. After reciting the evening’s specials, the young man asked, “Can I start you off with an appetizer tonight?”

“Anything sound tempting to you?” Drew asked. The only thing he was in the mood for was room service and, with any luck, breakfast in bed, but that was pushing things.

And yet Debbie seemed willing to skip some steps as she said, “You know, the best way I’ve found to judge a restaurant is by their desserts. What do you say to splitting the raspberry cheesecake?”

Drew grinned. “I’d say life is short. Eat dessert first.”

Once the waiter left with their order, Debbie leaned closer. “Are you sure this won’t spoil your appetite?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

The hunger inside him wasn’t the least bit satisfied by the cheesecake. Especially not when they ended up not just sharing the dessert but the same fork. When Debbie fed him a bite, all he could imagine was tasting the same sweet raspberry flavor straight from her lips.

Desire swirled between them as rich and decadent as the dessert. “I can’t tell you how much I want to kiss you right now.”

Her lips parted at his murmured words, drawing even more of his heated attention as she ran her tongue over the upper arch, as if already tasting him there. “Then why aren’t you?”

“Because once I start, I won’t want to stop.”

Pulling in a deep breath that lifted her breasts against the bodice of her dress and weakened his control even more, she said, “What if I don’t want you to stop?”