Small-Town Cinderella (The Pirelli Brothers)

by Stacy Connelly

  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 gu
ess 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?”

  “Then I’d say we should find someplace a little more private than the middle of a restaurant.”

  “Someplace like a hotel room?”

  The key for the room he’d checked into earlier was burning a hole in his pocket. All he had to do was take Debbie’s hand in his and lead her to the bank of mirrored elevator doors across the restaurant. But there was something he had to do first. Something he knew full well might ruin everything.

  Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “Debbie, there’s something I have to tell you. The night of Darcy’s bachelorette party, I overheard your conversation with the girls.”

  * * *

  As a kid, Debbie had fallen off her bike once and had the wind knocked out of her. She felt the same way—dizzy, panicked and unable to breathe—as Drew’s words reached across the table and sucker punched her. “You heard me.... So this was all some kind of joke, then? Give poor, lonely Debbie a quick thrill, right?”

  “No! No.” Reaching out, Drew grasped hold of her arm when she would have otherwise jumped up and run from the booth. His grip was firm enough to let her know he didn’t want her to leave yet not so tight that she’d have any trouble breaking away. But it was the warmth of his skin against hers rather than any amount of force that kept her seated. “It’s not like that.”

  “Then tell me how it is, Drew. Tell me how you took something I said in confidence to my friends—” she stressed the word, making it clear she no longer considered him one of that group “—and used it to play me.”

  “I wasn’t playing,” he muttered.

  “Then what were you thinking? No, let me guess. This was all some misguided effort to save me from myself, right?” Because even as angry as she was, Debbie couldn’t believe Drew would do anything purposefully cruel or hurtful. He wasn’t that kind of man, and even though he hadn’t been acting like himself lately, she still knew that to be true.

  “You heard me say that I was looking for adventure and excitement—” her face heated at the thought of what else he’d overheard “—and you thought to yourself that couldn’t possibly be good for me. Good girls are supposed to sit at home and wait for some nice boy to come calling, right? So you thought you’d step in and play superhero.”

  Drew’s jaw tightened, but she could read the truth he was trying to hide in his dark gaze. And it hurt. So much that she felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she willed the emotion away.

  “Dammit, Debbie, will you just listen for a minute?” His shoulders rose on a deep breath as if he was struggling for calm, though why he even thought he had a right to be upset was worlds beyond her. “When I overheard you talking with Sophia and the other girls, I have to admit, I didn’t like the idea of you going out and finding some stranger. The whole idea seemed—”

  “Desperate?” she supplied, hopefully with enough sarcasm to mask the fact that she’d thought so herself a time or two.

  “Dangerous,” he argued. “The thought of you and some stranger bugged the hell out of me. And then the more I thought about it, the more the idea of you and any guy—didn’t matter if it was a stranger or someone you’d known for years—started to bug me just as much.”

  “You’re trying to tell me you were jealous,” she scoffed.

  “I’m trying to tell you that if any guy was going to sweep you off your feet, I wanted it to be me.”

  “So why not just ask me out? Why this whole ruse?”

  “Because you didn’t want just some everyday, average local guy to ask you out for dinner and a movie. You said so yourself.”

  “You really expect me to believe after all these years of not asking me out, all it took was overhearing that one conversation to make you suddenly realize how much you wanted to go out with me? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.” Almost as hard to believe as the jealousy undercutting his voice earlier when he spoke about the affair she’d thoug
ht she wanted to have with her tall, dark, handsome stranger.

  “It wasn’t just what you said. It was the way you said it.”

  “How? With a drunken slur?”

  “You weren’t drunk,” Drew responded flatly. “Listening to you, I could hear the anticipation in your voice, a longing for excitement.”

  Her cheeks heated as her mind scrambled to think back to what else she might have said when she thought she’d been alone with her friends. “It was girl talk at a bachelorette party, Drew. Not something to take seriously and not something you were meant to hear.”

  “But I did,” he argued. “And it was enough to make me realize how much excitement and mystery has been missing from my own life. Is it really so hard to believe that you’re not the only one looking for something more than small-town life?”

  Was it so impossible to believe? Or did she just want to believe it so much?

  “Debbie—”

  “I need a minute,” she said as she slipped away from his touch and out of the booth.

  Drew nodded and didn’t try to stop her, but she read the disappointment in his gaze. He didn’t think she’d be back, and as she made her escape to the restrooms, she wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong. The lit sign above the exit beckoned, and she imagined herself escaping through the door and pretending this whole night had never happened.

  Instead, though, she found the ladies’ room and slipped inside. She’d told Drew she needed a minute, and she felt she at least owed him those sixty seconds to think about what he’d said. As she gazed into her reflection above the granite vanity, every instinct was still urging her to leave.

  “You’re a lucky lady, you know,” a tall brunette said as she washed her hands in the sink next to Debbie.

  “Excuse me?” She was hardly in the mood to engage in small talk, but the odd opening line captured her attention.

  “Your boyfriend,” the other woman explained. “I bumped into him at the bar earlier. I should have realized right away a guy that gorgeous had to be taken. He could barely pull his gaze away from watching the door and waiting for you to arrive.” Her assessing glance traveled from Debbie’s head to her toes. “You make a good-looking couple.”