Small-Town Cinderella (The Pirelli Brothers) (2 page)

Working with the bride and groom to find the perfect flavor and filling combinations was a challenge she enjoyed. And then there was the decorating—the literal icing on the cake. The creativity and artistry of building the multiple layers, of designing the perfect flowers and ribbons and scrollwork... She loved every step of the detailed work.

And while she might be a complete flop when it came to love and romance, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a believer in other couples’ happily ever afters. Her friends were all proof that loves of a lifetime did exist, and while Debbie couldn’t be more pleased, she wasn’t looking to join them.

For the first time in nearly a decade, she had time. Time to think, to breathe, to hang up her apron and have some fun. And if her mother’s death had taught her anything, it was that life was short, and Debbie was determined to make the most of it.

“So maybe that’s why I’m not looking to settle down,” she concluded. “I’ve been too settled already, too serious and dedicated throughout what should have been the best years of my life. I know the three of you have found the guys of your dreams, and I’m happy for you all, but that’s just not what I’m looking for.”

“Debbie wants Mr. Excitement,” Sophia said with a wink.

“Mr. Mysterious,” Darcy seconded.

“Here’s to finding Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome,” Kara added.

Still feeling a little ridiculous for spelling out her dream man to her friends, Debbie lifted her glass. “I will definitely drink to that.”

Draining the last of her margarita, she admitted finding an exciting and mysterious man was only half the wish. Finding a man who thought
she
was exciting and mysterious...now,
that
would be a fantasy come true.

* * *

Drew Pirelli was not a man given to eavesdropping. Living in Clearville his whole life, he was very familiar with its grapevine and the wildfire spread of small-town gossip. He preferred to mind his own business with the somewhat vain hope others would do the same. Neither was he the type to spy on his sister and future sisters-in-law.

If he’d known drinks at the bar and grill were part of the plan for Darcy’s bachelorette party, he would have stayed away. Far away. But he’d been somewhat out of the Pirelli family loop recently, something his parents had commented on more than once. He’d used work as a handy excuse, and he
was
busy running his construction company, but that was only part of the reason why he’d avoided family gatherings recently.

How was it, he wondered, that he was the last unattached Pirelli sibling?

Ever since the custom-home side of his business had taken off, Drew had started each project with his own future family in mind. He pictured his wife and family gathered together in the kitchen. His kids watching television or playing games in the den. The woman he loved welcoming him to bed in the spacious master suite.

And yet at the end of each project, he turned the keys over to some other man who would live with his wife and children in the house Drew had painstakingly built.

The nagging dissatisfaction of giving away a piece of himself in each of his houses had convinced him to start building his own place. But that had created another frustration. His attention to detail, the dream of making a house into
his
home, had helped Drew cement his reputation as one of the most sought-after contractors in Northern California. Because of that, he was having trouble finding time to work on his own project while managing the custom-home business as well as the rental cabins he was currently building for Jarrett Deeks.

Not that it was all bad. Professionally, he was as rock solid as the houses he built. On a personal level, though, he couldn’t seem to find his footing.

And that was the real reason he’d been keeping his distance from his family. He was tired of being the third, fifth, heck, even the ninth wheel, depending on how many of his relatives showed up.

Which was how he’d ended up completely out of the loop when it came to Darcy’s bachelorette party.

When he’d first recognized the female voices coming from the other side of the half wall separating the two rows of booths, he’d slid across the padded seat, ready to slip away unnoticed. Though no expert at bachelorette parties, he knew enough to realize guys weren’t allowed.

But before he could push to his feet, the words drifting over from the other side of the booth nailed him to the spot.

I wouldn’t be opposed to having a red-hot fling with a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll take completely by surprise and keep me on my toes.

It wasn’t the words that had knocked his feet out from under him. It was shock at the swift, unexpected kick of desire he felt when he heard them.

Drew had known Debbie Mattson her entire life. His earliest memories of her were of her standing on tiptoe to peek up over the counter at her mother’s bakery, her big blue eyes sparkling as she flashed her dimples at every customer to walk through the door. She was the typical girl next door. Sweet, friendly, cute. She was his kid sister’s friend, but her words pointed out a truth he’d been denying for the past several months.

Debbie wasn’t a kid anymore.

His knuckles whitened around the cool glass bottle, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to fight so hard not to follow his first instinct. An instinct logic told him was completely irrational. If he did what he longed to do, opened his mouth and spouted off like some kind of idiot about nice girls staying home and waiting for the right kind of guy to come along, Debbie would likely knock his block off, and he’d deserve it.

Debbie was a grown woman now. A beautiful woman, he was reminded as he thought back to Sophia’s wedding a few months earlier.

The wedding had been a small affair, with the reception held in their parents’ backyard. Already a few months pregnant at the time, his sister had wanted to keep things quiet and low-key. She’d still felt a little insecure about returning home after leaving town five years before following a break-in at The Hope Chest, the local antiques shop she now managed. Though Sophia hadn’t been involved in the burglary and vandalism, she’d taken the blame. Feelings of guilt had kept her away until their parents’ anniversary party brought her back—with her former boyfriend, Jake Cameron, hot on her heels.

Like the rest of the family, Drew had been happy his sister had fallen in love with a good man who was clearly in love with her. The day of the wedding, Sophia had looked beautiful in her off-white gown with pale pink roses woven into her dark hair, and her new husband hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.

But it was Debbie, Sophia’s maid of honor, who kept drawing Drew’s attention. Something she’d evidently noticed as their gazes met before she made her way across lush green lawn. The pale pink gown hugged her curves and left the fair skin of her shoulders and arms bare. Her blond hair was caught up in a cascade of ringlets, and her blue eyes glittered in the white lights strung between the trees. “You should know, Drew, my money’s on you.”

“Excuse me?”

“The bet on whether you or Sam will be the next to fall,” Debbie said, referring to his younger, footloose brother.

“Seriously? People are placing bets?”

“You better believe it,” she retorted. “And my money’s on you all the way. Sam’s not the type to settle down while you, well, you’re about as settled as any guy I’ve ever met.”

“Sorry, Debbie, I couldn’t tell. Was that an insult or a compliment?”

Tipping her head back, she gave a boisterous laugh guaranteed to turn every male head her way. “Oh, that was a compliment. If I decide to insult you, trust me when I say you’ll feel it.”

“So you think I’m settled?” he asked, falling back on the teasing, brotherly attitude that had long marked their relationship, even as he felt that balance start to shift in a way he couldn’t explain.

“You’re as grounded as a man can be and still manage to move both feet.”

At the time, her teasing comments hadn’t bothered him. Much. But now Debbie’s voice reached inside him and threatened to shake something loose. The excitement, the anticipation, the “what if” underscoring her words struck a chord inside him that had been still and silent far too long.

But Debbie wasn’t the woman who should be striking those notes. She was a friend, a good friend, and thinking of her in any other way just seemed...wrong. For Drew, dating had always been something of a game, a battle of the sexes he only engaged in on a level playing field. He liked women who were sophisticated and experienced and not the type to have their hearts easily broken. Women very unlike Debbie, who, despite the girl talk going on one booth over, had a tender and innocent heart she hid behind a smart mouth and sassy smile.

The hell of it was that he liked her. A lot. Too much, maybe, for him to ask her out and risk Debbie getting hurt. And getting hurt was exactly what might happen if she was serious about going after her mysterious stranger.

Judging from the sounds coming from the other booth, the women were getting ready to leave. Drew set his beer aside and half rose, ready to circle around to the other side of the restaurant and tell Debbie—what, exactly? That she shouldn’t—couldn’t—go after the adventure and excitement she was looking for?

She was young, beautiful, single. After the years of caring for her mother and running the bakery, she had every right to go after what she wanted. Any man would jump at the chance to fulfill the longing he’d heard in Debbie’s voice.

Or more like any
other
man because Drew just didn’t think of Debbie that way.

Did he?

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want us to give you a ride?” Sophia asked as the four women stepped out of the bar onto the quiet street. For obvious reasons, she was the designated driver and was in charge of seeing Darcy and Kara safely home.

“I only live five minutes away.” She’d lived her entire life in a small apartment above the bakery. As a teenager, she’d longed for more space and room of her own, but after her mother passed away, the two-bedroom unit had been more than large enough, at times seeming far too empty. “The night air will help clear my head.”

Debbie knew her limit and had stopped after her second margarita. The first had loosened her tongue more than she wanted to admit. She could only hope the drinks the other women had enjoyed would help them forget some of the foolish things she’d said.

“All right. But if you meet up with any dark handsome strangers on the way home, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

No such luck with her perfectly sober best friend. “Can you please forget I said anything?”

Sophia grinned impishly, reminding Debbie of when they’d been kids, always looking for some kind of trouble. “Not a chance.”

With a put-upon sigh, Debbie looked over at the bride-to-be. “Have a good night, Darcy, and just think, the next time we’re all together, you’ll be a few hours away from becoming Mrs. Nick Pirelli.”

The redhead’s beaming smile could have lit the sky. “I can’t wait!”

Leaving her friends with a wave goodbye, Debbie walked the quiet street toward the bakery. The night was cold with a definite hint of fall in the air, along with woodsmoke drifting from a nearby chimney. Halloween decorations lurked in the shadows behind the darkened windows, reminding Debbie the holiday was less than a month away.

She wasn’t sure when she first noticed the sound of footsteps behind her. With the bar only a few doors back, it wasn’t that unusual to think someone else had decided to walk off a beer or two. But the late hour and emptiness of the stores around her was enough to quicken her pace. Most nights she would have circled around to the alleyway behind the bakery and the outside staircase that led directly to her apartment. But tonight, the security lights inside the shop beckoned with the promise of safety.

Reaching inside her oversize bag, she fumbled for her keys. Why couldn’t she be one of those women who carried a purse the size of a cell phone case? Instead she’d fallen in love with a tapestry-style tote and stuffed it to the zipper with every item she might ever need. Her finger brushed a metal ring, but her relief was short-lived as she identified the extra set of measuring spoons she’d somehow misplaced. Swearing beneath her breath, she looked inside her bag and spotted the pink enamel cupcake-shaped key ring Sophia had given for her last birthday.

Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a sound behind her—

“Debbie! Wait up!”

Stumbling, she glanced back over her shoulder toward the familiar voice. “Drew? What do you think you’re doing!” she demanded as he jogged toward her. Her heart still pounding, she reached out and socked him on the arm. The muscled bicep felt rock solid against her knuckles, and he didn’t even flinch. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

The dim lighting from the shop windows illuminated his frown. “I called your name like three times.”

He had? “Oh, sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“And that’s the problem. You should be paying attention. Walking home by yourself—”

Swallowing a sigh, she tuned out the rest of what he was saying. Clearly with Sophia now married with a husband to take care of her, Drew had decided to move his big-brother act down the road and to her door.

Debbie had long thought Sophia’s middle brother was the most handsome of the three very good-looking men. She’d even had a crush on him once upon a time when she’d been a starry-eyed kid experiencing her first rush of romance. Or hormones, she thought ruefully, still slightly embarrassed by the tongue-tied, blushing preteen she’d once been. But that was a long time ago, and she was over him.

Still, that didn’t stop a few of those long-buried feelings from shaking off a bit of dust as she gazed up at him in the moonlight. Even casually dressed like just about every local guy, in a gray henley shirt tucked into faded jeans and a denim jacket to ward off the chill stretched across his broad shoulders, something about Drew made him stand out from the crowd. It was more than looks—although he was...so...good-looking. Totally unfair, in fact, for a man to be that gorgeous.