His Plain-Jane Cinderella

by Jennie Adams

  So, you see it was obvious—Troy wasn’t thinking about anything even slightly close to memories of kisses. He probably had production schedules circulating in his head!

  Stacie told herself she could relax, and if she felt a spark of something that rather resembled disappointment she didn’t allow herself to admit it.

  ‘You’re digging in.’ She hadn’t really realised it until just now. ‘You’ve taken the future of the plant to heart, not just to see it keep going, but to make the absolute best of it that you can.’

  He was already doing the same with his orchards. ‘You’ll make your enterprises here successful, Troy. It’s in your nature to make that happen.’

  ‘No matter what the career path…’ He seemed arrested by the thought. And then he looked at her. ‘You’re doing the same. Pushing forward.’

  ‘Yes. I really want to make a success of the Bow-wow-tique as a full-time business, and I believe, now that I’ve positioned myself here at Tarrula, I’ll be able to.’

  He blew over the top of his coffee and sipped. ‘I think you will, too.’

  Will…what?

  For a moment Stacie couldn’t recall the thread of the conversation. She’d been distracted by lips that she’d thought from the start were made for kisses; now she knew…

  ‘Tell me about growing up, Troy. Or life in the army. Both.’ Anything to distract her from wanting his kisses again.

  Too late.

  And how would getting to know him more fix her problem of trying not to desire him as a man?

  ‘I left my home at seventeen.’ Troy took a spoonful of his dessert. ‘I go back for visits, but my parents are retired and travelling a lot. I can’t say we’re particularly close. Dad’s a quiet man, keeps to himself pretty much, and Mum’s always found me a bit hard to…accept, I think.’

  He was giving her a chance to get to know him, to glimpse his past world—where he’d come from and what made him tick.

  It felt right to reciprocate, at least to a degree. ‘I had a good childhood, a happy one.’ Maybe that was why, as they had all got older, she hadn’t wanted to notice when men started to gloss over her existence and only see her beautiful sisters.

  It had taken Andrew, allowing her to believe he loved her and would eventually marry her—and then falling at Gemma’s feet instead, with an engagement ring in his hand, no less—for Stacie’s hopes to tumble down.

  Stacie’s chin came up. ‘My sisters are very beautiful women.’ And that was enough about that.

  ‘Did you have a fulfilling career in the army, Troy?’ Had he reached his zenith before injury had robbed him of all of that?

  ‘I don’t know if the climb ever would have ended.’ The colour of Troy’s eyes darkened, as he seemed to consider the question. ‘But, yes, I’d reached a lot of my goals before the injury.’

  He went on to explain how he’d moved through the ranks within the armed forces, into special-ops and what he’d achieved there. When Troy told her about the mission that had resulted in his injury, he was guarded about details, but told enough of a story for Stacie to realise the relief he’d felt that the mission had been a success—that no one else on the team had been injured, that they’d all got out alive and accomplished what they had set out to do.

  Stacie met his gaze and something in it warned her not to become too sentimental about all that. ‘I’ve lived an easy life in comparison. I have supportive parents and my sisters. Now I have my farmlet to gradually bring up to standard inside and out, and my Bow-wow-tique business to grow. I’d dabbled with it for a couple of years before I moved here. I’m glad I finally got serious about it.’

  ‘I think you’ve lived more than you realize, or are perhaps letting on.’ His low words were observant. ‘And I think I’d find it interesting to meet your family.’

  Too observant; Stacie had been through pain and she didn’t want to carry all of that forward into what her life was now. She wanted to leave it behind her, and he’d just hit on the one topic Stacie didn’t want to explore—how she currently related to her family.

  ‘I want to live my own life, my own way.’ The words came on a burst of sound, and she turned her attention back to Troy to get away from the emotions they invoked. ‘With a career like yours, would you have planned to marry?’

  The moment she asked the words, she shook her head. ‘Sorry. That’s not really my business.’

  ‘I was engaged to a woman who also had a career in the army.’ Troy’s words held a calm inflection that didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.

  Somewhere in their depths, Stacie saw turbulence: anger at fate, perhaps, for robbing him of his dreams, not only in terms of work, but personally as well?

  Why had the engagement ended?

  ‘Linda couldn’t move forward with me. I’d have held her back.’ Troy spoke the words flatly. ‘If she hadn’t made that decision, I’d have made it for her.’

  ‘She agreed to this because you were injured?’ Shock made her words sharp; disapproval honed them even more. He didn’t need to confirm it. The truth was in his steady gaze. ‘That’s wrong.’

  It hadn’t been love! This Linda should have been at his side, seeing him through!

  A deep anger filled Stacie. Hadn’t Troy faced enough, without such a loss being added at a time when he must have been able to accept it least? Yet he was saying he’d have instigated the break up if his fiancée hadn’t!

  ‘I have no emotion for a second attempt at a relationship.’

  His words made it clear that he believed that he had a lack of emotion deep down within himself. Stacie had looked into his eyes; she’d seen the hardness.

  But he’d held her gently, kissed her softly as well as with passion.

  Had she imagined those emotions in Troy because she wanted them to be there?

  Just as you did with Andrew, Stacie? Except in his case those emotions weren’t truly there for you but could be found and handed to your sister.

  ‘I understand, Troy.’ In the end, she did. He wanted to be her neighbour and employer and that was all. Whatever she felt about anything else, that was Troy’s expectation.

  ‘I wonder if the rain has eased at all?’ Stacie glanced towards the door. ‘We should maybe go.’

  The getting-to-know you mission had certainly been accomplished. Whether the results felt particularly palatable just now or not was another thing. Well, they could be friends and colleagues, couldn’t they? That was what she’d felt would be sensible from the start. Stacie got to her feet and made the choice then and there to prove they could be exactly that.

  It might take all the pride and determination she had, but she would make it happen.

  After all she’d been through with Andrew, she wasn’t about to pine over Troy!

  Troy escorted Stacie from the restaurant. He’d imparted more about himself than he’d planned to. Stacie had admitted to a broken relationship, and he’d drawn his conclusions about that: one of her sisters had stolen her man.

  The hard knot in his chest must be disapproval of that sister. She’d treated Stacie badly.

  Just as Linda treated you badly.

  What was he thinking? Linda had done exactly what he’d expected of her.

  He led Stacie through the rainy night to his four-wheel-drive. It was time to take her home and forget about swapping confidences, and too much examination of himself, when he was already quite clear just who he was!

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘FANG won’t like these high winds.’ Stacie glanced towards her darkened house. She took pride in the normalcy of her tone and delivery, just a colleague who happened also to be a neighbour, making an observation about the weather as Troy drove her back to her house. ‘He’s not all that keen on rain, and stormy weather makes him tense
unless he’s inside the house with me. Hopefully it won’t be upsetting Houdini either. Don’t get out, Troy. There’s no point both of us getting wet.’

  Troy got out anyway. He took her arm to help her to the house. The wind tried to pull them over. When they got under the porch he tipped his head to the side and listened. ‘That sounds like a sheet of tin flapping on your roof.’

  It was hard to hear anything over the rain and he hadn’t bothered with an umbrella. It would have turned inside out in an instant, anyway.

  Stacie had left her porch light on. She stepped back out into the open and looked up. Even in the dark and through the rain she could make out a large piece of roof-sheeting flapping crazily.

  ‘Come inside. We’d better see the damage,’ Troy suggested. ‘There’s going to be a mess.’

  For ten seconds as she unlocked her front door and drew a breath to deal with what she might find on the other side, Stacie heard all the doubts. Had this been a good decision? Could she really make a go of things here without this place being just a money pit?

  And then she threw her shoulders back. She hadn’t made the wrong decision. She’d made one that was what she’d wanted. She could make a wonderful home out of this farmlet, a great viable business of the Bow-wow-tique—and she would! ‘I guess the roofing contractor didn’t factor in weather like this when he said the rest of the work could wait.’

  ‘Nobody could have anticipated this. Hopefully the wind won’t have done too much—’ Troy broke off as Stacie turned lights on inside her house.

  She took one look and excused herself to change into jeans and a sweater.

  ‘Well, technically,’ Stacie said, in an attempt to be judicious as she strode towards the rear door of her home past a large puddle of water in the hallway, ‘The wind hasn’t done all the damage. The rain it’s let through has done most of it. I’ve got a ladder out the back.’

  I like a good challenge.

  The thought whirled in Stacie’s head as she carried the ladder inside the back door. Fang was out there, of course, and barged into the house at the first opportunity, demanding at least some sympathy for the fact he’d been left to endure a wet, windy night while Stacie was out partying in town. Houdini was right on the larger dog’s heels.

  ‘I’ll take the ladder. You take care of the dogs.’ Troy glanced at both animals before he took the ladder from Stacie’s hands.

  Stacie fed the dogs and she did it fast, with a quick pat for each. By that time Troy had climbed the ladder. ‘A torch would be helpful, Stace.’

  Stacie already had it in her hand. She held it up and his hand closed around it, their fingers brushing lightly for a moment as he took it. It wasn’t only that which made Stacie’s heart skip a beat: Troy had called her Stace. It was just a shortening of the name; the guys at work did it all the time. But with Troy it felt different. Intimate…

  ‘How bad is the damage up there? I should get up and look myself, Troy.’ She would rather focus on immediate concerns than think about only being a friend to him.

  Just as Stacie looked up and Troy glanced down, a dribble of water splashed onto her forehead and did its best to drown her left eye before tracking down the side of her nose.

  ‘Oh!’ She shook her head, blinking rapidly. Troy was descending the ladder, using the strength in the rest of his body to compensate for the limits of his shattered knee. It was an awkward descent, and halfway down his leg buckled.

  ‘Careful.’ Stacie gasped the warning and lunged forward.

  ‘I’m fine.’ He growled the words.

  And he was fine. His reflexes were lightning-fast, and, though he still wore his dinner clothes, the shoes had a decent grip on them. He’d already caught himself, compensated. His strong arms flexed as he regained movement and completed his descent.

  Oh, Troy.

  How could he truly do all the work at his orchards when he had this degree of difficulty with ladders and the like?

  Of course he can, Stacie. He’d get it done if that happened to him a hundred times a day, and she knew it didn’t. She’d watched him often enough. Too often!

  Stacie brushed the water out of her eye. ‘I’m a bit concerned about fixing this loose sheeting. It’s not a good time to be out on the roof.’ They’d have to be creative to work out how to deal with the problem and not put themselves at risk. If they could do that, Stacie could creatively resist wanting to kiss him—and resist feeling as though all her earlier self-talk to that effect had fallen on her own deaf ears!

  Now she wanted to offer a comforting hug to him as well. As if he’d welcome that right now! ‘The combination of wind—’

  ‘And rain are risky.’ Troy’s hands came to rest loosely on his hips. He, too, seemed to be pushing the earlier incident aside.

  His frustration hadn’t been directed towards her; Stacie understood that. But he had every right to feel it. She had underestimated what he must have been through emotionally thanks to his injury: the loss of his fiancée and career, as well as having to move forward and reinvent himself.

  Troy went on. ‘We’ll have to do the work from inside the roof cavity.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’ She embraced the change of focus. She just couldn’t help a sense of fellow feeling towards him at the same time. ‘I’m not sure how to make that work.’

  As possible solutions came to her, a wave of anticipation washed through Stacie. She’d chosen a house that needed doing up for a reason and, though a leak thanks to high winds and rain hadn’t been anticipated, she wanted to fix the problem.

  ‘Usually I’d go to my DIY books, Troy, and maybe research on the Internet if I couldn’t find what I needed in the books. I have a sheet of tarpaulin, but I don’t think it would be enough to fix that on from the inside. If it kept raining, the weight of the water would push through it.’

  ‘We can fix the sheet of tin itself from inside the roof cavity without getting out on the roof—if you’re happy for me to help you? I understand you might prefer to take care of everything here by yourself.’

  ‘But sometimes an extra set of hands is just what’s needed.’ Stacie wouldn’t mind his help at all. She rather thought she would enjoy it, even if that fact was a bit of a worry!

  Even so, she said, ‘I’d appreciate the help.’

  Troy nodded. ‘We can manage a temporary measure. It’ll do until you can get your roof man out here. I have the right tools at my place.’

  Troy drove to his place to collect his tools. Stacie had a toolbox, too, a tiered affair with matching pink cordless-drill, screwdriver set and other items tucked inside. By the time Troy returned she was up in the roof cavity, had a battery-operated floodlight positioned so they could see and her tool kit at the ready in case Troy was missing anything they might need.

  Rain pelted onto the roof; water ran through the hole left by the flapping sheet of tin, and Stacie was in full home-renovator mode.

  ‘I didn’t know they made tool kits in pink.’ Troy’s dry words came as he joined her with a very manly set of tools on a sensible belt fixed around his lean hips, and a couple of other items in a bag slung over his shoulder.

  He’d changed into jeans and a jumper, and sturdier boots.

  He looked ruggedly gorgeous.

  Hardly the point, is it, Stacie?

  ‘The dogs are in front of the heater in your living room. I had to dry Houdini off when we got back.’ He didn’t seem to notice the rough affection in his voice as he said the little dog’s name. ‘He slipped outside with me so I took him along for the drive.’

  He gave a gruff cough. ‘Stupid dog would have run around in the rain all night otherwise.’

  ‘He seems to like your company.’ And Stacie certainly didn’t mind the sight of Troy looking very businesslike and ready to sort this p
roblem out with her. She bit back an appreciative sigh. On top of that manliness, he’d just been mushy about taking care of the dog.

  It wasn’t fair. Just when a girl was trying to pull herself together over such temptations, Troy became even more appealing than ever. And Stacie realised that home renovations, whilst fun to do by herself, were possibly even more fun with his company.

  Well, she would just take this bit of fun while it lasted, but keep it in perspective.

  Stacie glanced at her pink tools and half wished she’d put pink nail-polish on, rather than peach.

  ‘Your eyes are shining like stars right now.’ Troy’s low words held an edge of consciousness that he perhaps didn’t realise was detectable. ‘Not every woman looks forward to the thrill of fixing a leaky roof.’

  ‘On an old doer-upper house in the middle of a windy rainstorm? No. I guess in that respect there’s an inner Valkyrie there somewhere, looking for expression. One with mis-matching nail decorations, as it turns out.’ She grinned. ‘There’s a particular kind of satisfaction in bringing something rundown back to life, even when it causes problems like this one along the way.’

  Troy listened to Stacie’s enthusiastic words and watched those stars dance around in her eyes. He glanced again at the pink toolbox and accepted that she wasn’t going to stand back and let him fix this for her by himself.

  He could have felt defensive about that. He’d expected to feel that way about dragging his busted knee up the ladder to get into the roof cavity. Yet, even with that near slide to the ground earlier, Stacie hadn’t made a fuss, so Troy hadn’t felt the need to care about it either.

  He carried the knowledge of his limitations with him everywhere, felt it in every step. Yet now…

  Well, this fix was easily within his abilities, busted knee or not. Maybe it was that certainty that ensured it didn’t bother him. Or maybe it was Stacie beaming herself silly over the chance to get her hands grubby that put him in a different headspace with no relation to his physical limits at all.