The Boss's Bride (The Heart of Main Street)

by Minton, Brenda

  “Dad, I’m fine. I’m not moving. I’m not putting weight on it. I’ll go home in an hour and put my foot up. Promise.”

  “Did you drive?” Mr. Wilson looked uncomfortable with the conversation. His neck turned a little red and he glanced across the yard as he spoke.

  “I walked. Go home, Dad. You need a day off. Let the guys feed cattle tonight. Let Evan clean house. Take some time off and relax.”

  The older Wilson scratched his chin and smiled at his daughter. “You have to stop taking care of us. That means don’t answer the call for help every time one of your brothers has a crisis.”

  “It’s a hard habit to break.”

  “I know it is, honey, but we’re good. We can clean. We can even cook when we have to. We have to break the habit of letting you do those things for us.”

  “I love you, Dad.” She kissed her fingers and placed them on her dad’s cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, but don’t overdo it.”

  He left. Patrick joined her at the window. “So, Gracie Wilson, who takes care of you?”

  He wished he hadn’t asked but the question slipped out and she looked at him with wide eyes.

  “I take care of myself, Patrick.”

  He let it go. He had to. He still had enough sense left to know when to walk away.

  “I’m going to check on the condition of the siding on the back of the house. I heard it’s cracked.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “When you’re ready to go home, let me know and I’ll give you a ride.”

  She dipped the brush into the paint and shot him a look. “I guess you take care of me, Patrick.”

  He got the hint. “I’m going. But I mean it about the ride.”

  “I know. And I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”

  He left, because it made good sense to walk away.

  Gracie had hoped Patrick would forget he’d offered her a ride home. It would save them both a lot of trouble. He didn’t forget. As everyone packed up to leave, he appeared at her side.

  “Ready to go?”

  She nodded and positioned the crutches under her arms again. She waved goodbye to a couple of people and walked with him to his truck.

  “I really can walk.”

  In answer his dark brows lifted and he shook his head. He opened the truck door for her and waited until she had climbed inside. His hand was on her arm and she inhaled the clean scent of him mixed with outdoors.

  As soon as she got home, she’d say her goodbyes and he would leave. Maybe she’d tell him he wasn’t responsible for her. She didn’t want that from him.

  She didn’t want him at her side because he felt as if she needed someone to take care of her. People did take care of her. Coraline and Ann had always looked out for her. Velma was a wonderful friend. She had her dad, even if he sometimes seemed uncomfortable or distracted.

  Unfortunately she didn’t make the clean break from Patrick. When they got to her place, he followed her up the sidewalk to her front door. She opened it and then turned to look up at him.

  Her heart stumbled over the protests she’d been about to make. Instead her mouth went dry and she didn’t know what to say.

  “Gracie?”

  The soft voice broke into the rush of emotions. She smiled at the man still standing on the stoop outside her house while she stood in the doorway with the screen door pushed open.

  “I’m sorry. I was thinking.”

  “That you might need some help?”

  “No, not really.” She’d been thinking that he meant something to her, even if she wasn’t quite ready to name what.

  He filled up space in her heart in a way that took her by surprise. How could she let him in that way? She steadied her gaze on his face, wanting to believe that he would be the man who accepted her as she was.

  But he wasn’t asking to be that man.

  “Let’s go in. I’ll get you an ice pack.”

  She moved and he stepped inside, motioning for her to sit down. She sank onto the old green sofa and sighed. While her eyes were closed, he moved around the room. A few minutes later, he lifted her foot and placed pillows under it. She opened her eyes and watched as he walked away.

  When he came back, he had a bag of ice. He unwrapped her foot and placed the pack on her ankle. She cringed as the cold hit.

  “Nice?” He grinned as he said it and she couldn’t find a response. She could barely breathe. Her ankle hurt. Her heart ached. Breathing seemed overrated.

  She nodded. He backed up, his hand slipping off her foot. He put distance between them, which seemed like a good idea to Gracie.

  “Can I get you something to eat?”

  Gracie grimaced at the offer. She moved her foot to a more comfortable position before answering, “I think you’ll find that there isn’t a lot to fix.”

  “I’ll run down to The Everything. I can bring back a pizza.”

  “That would be a good rumor-starter.”

  “You know that we’ve already started rumors, right?”

  Heat climbed into her cheeks and she nodded. “Yes, I know. It’s your fault. You insisted on taking me to the clinic and then you brought me home this afternoon. People are going to draw conclusions. And worse.”

  “Worse?”

  How did she tell him? Her heart hammered against her ribs.

  “They think you’re the reason I didn’t go through with the wedding.”

  He sat down on the chair opposite her. “That’s a new one.”

  “Still want to live in a small town?”

  “Sometimes I wonder.” He leaned forward. “I never thought that would be the rumor.”

  “No?”

  She smiled as he thought about it. She enjoyed watching him think. She enjoyed the strength of his face and the way his dark eyes sometimes sought hers. There were times at work when something funny happened and he would turn to look at her with those eyes of his. It connected them.

  Dangerous thoughts. She must be going through a time in her life when she felt a need to have someone, anyone, to lean on, to connect with. It wasn’t about him or needing him.

  Needing people hurt. She closed her eyes against a wave of emotion that was more than a decade old. Needing someone. She had needed her mom so much and so many times. She had needed her dad to see that she was hurting. Now, looking back, she realized he tried. He just hadn’t been equipped to be a single dad with a houseful of boys and a lone daughter. He hadn’t understood her emotions. Or her stubbornness that was so much like his own.

  “You okay?” Patrick’s voice was soft but husky. It skimmed across her, sending shivers up her arms.

  “I’m good.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Yes, pizza is good. But you don’t have to.”

  “I know that.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called The Everything to order pizza.

  After the call, he stood and Gracie felt small and suddenly self-conscious. She looked up at him, watching as he pulled the afghan off the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. He settled it over her and she didn’t know what to feel in that strange moment that could have been awkward but wasn’t.

  She reached for his hand and drew it to her cheek, holding it, strong and warm, against her skin. “Thank you.”

  He exhaled sharply. “Gracie.”

  Her name sounded drawn from deep down in his chest. He leaned down, the movement taking her by surprise. His hand slipped through her hair and he hovered then claimed her lips in a kiss that didn’t surprise her. It tore loose the emotions she’d been holding so tight, so secret. It shredded her last defenses.

  Somehow he was sitting next to her and she was leaning into the kiss as her arms went around his neck. Her hand
s settled in his soft, dark hair as he continued to hold her close, his lips firm and warm, his hands on her back strong.

  Finally he pulled back but she didn’t want to lose the moment. Her hands remained on his shoulders and she rested her head against his chest. She heard the strong, steady beat of his heart.

  “I should go.” He moved a little and she released him.

  “I know.” Her voice shook and she didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to need him this much. She didn’t want him to know she needed him.

  This wasn’t the right time, not now when she was just getting her life back. She was just starting to find herself.

  She didn’t think it was the right time for him, either. She saw that in his eyes and in the way he drew back from her.

  “I’m coming back.” His hand held hers and he looked down at their intertwined fingers. She followed his gaze, wondering where his thoughts had gone and wishing she could ask.

  “Patrick, I don’t know what to do.”

  He stood, his fingers sliding loose from hers. “Me, neither.”

  “I don’t want things to be awkward between us. I don’t want to lose our friendship.”

  She wanted him to tell her they would always be friends and that he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t go back to Michigan. She didn’t want to lose the person she drank coffee with in the mornings while they waited for customers or the man she discussed her crazy ideas with. She didn’t want to lose the man who didn’t laugh at the plans she made for the town, for his store.

  She couldn’t remember ever having someone in her life who listened to her the way he did. She couldn’t imagine life in Bygones without him. Or her life without him.

  The thought took her breath away.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He walked out the door and left her alone to sift through the wild thoughts tumbling through her mind.

  She whispered an okay as he left, but she didn’t know if he heard. After he was gone, she cried. She didn’t know why she cried. Maybe because of the pain. Or because Patrick’s kiss had changed everything. She needed him in her life. With Patrick, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to smile and pretend everything was okay.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Monday morning Gracie hobbled into the store, crutches gone. Patrick watched as she stored her purse in a cubby under a worktable and grabbed the green utility apron that hung on her tiny frame, well past her knees. He really needed to get one made that would fit her. He smiled and shook his head, knowing better than to say she should be at home.

  “Good morning, Gracie.” He finished attaching an armrest to the rocking chair he was working on.

  “Patrick.”

  “You know you should be at home.” He looked up only briefly. So much for not saying anything.

  Should he bring up yesterday and the kiss that had left them eating dinner in silence when he returned?

  “You know that I do what I want.” She smiled and leaned against the worktable. Her dark hair framed her elfin face, and her mouth turned up in that ever-present smile.

  “Yes, I know you do what you want. Crutches for a week?”

  “It’s been almost a week.”

  “Half.”

  “Over a half.” She stepped away from the worktable and finished wrapping the apron strings around her waist. He thought about his hands on her waist and kissing her.

  Big mistake because he nearly hammered his thumb. It was time to put down the tools and get a cup of coffee.

  “Want coffee?” he asked as he stepped toward the door.

  “No, you go ahead. I’m going to clean up in here a little and then stock shelves.”

  “Gracie, you should really take it easy. At least for a few days.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He knew she wouldn’t. As he started out the door, he glanced at the calendar and frowned. Great, he had a lunch date today. Just what he didn’t need—another fix-up. Pastor Garman had arranged this one, with a nice young woman raised in church.

  “What’s wrong?” Gracie now stood next to him.

  What did he say to her? So much for that less complicated, small-town life. So far he’d found nothing uncomplicated about living in Bygones. Well, maybe the lack of traffic. It was definitely easier to find a parking space. He didn’t have to think long about where to eat lunch. He smiled at the run of thoughts.

  “Nothing, just complications. Pastor Garman insisted I meet a nice young woman for lunch. We’re meeting at Josh’s for coffee and a sandwich.”

  “I thought I was the only one trying to find a woman for you.”

  “Obviously not.” He pushed the door open. “I’m not sure how to convince you all that I recently turned thirty-five and I’m pretty capable of handling my own social life.”

  “I’m turning twenty-five at the end of the month and no one trusts me in that department.”

  He grinned and let the door close. “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Funny.” She brushed her hair back from her face. “But really, I think getting you married to a local girl is their way of keeping you here. If we can get all of the new shop owners married off…”

  “Oh, so that’s how it works?”

  She nodded and her smile spread across her face. “That’s how it works.”

  “I’m glad I know so I can avoid future attempts.”

  Her head cocked to the side and her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. “Do you always avoid relationships, Mr. Fogerty?”

  “Do you always play the part of the Runaway Bride of Bygones, Ms. Wilson?”

  “Ouch.” But she smiled and he knew that in the weeks since the failed wedding, she’d managed to get to the place where she could joke about the situation.

  “I don’t avoid relationships.” He preferred to think of it as avoiding guilt because he’d never been able to put the time into relationships that they required.

  Maybe it had been about finding a woman who made him want to put more time into a relationship.

  She looked at the big clock on the wall. “Time to open. I have a workshop today.”

  “Oh, good, more single women.”

  They both laughed this time. He pushed the door open and she walked through, still limping, but obviously not listening to his advice or the doctor’s.

  “I’ll turn the sign to Open,” she offered.

  “Thank you. And then you can sit behind the counter and look at sales for the month. I’d like to see if the discounts or your workshops are bringing in customers.”

  “You’re taking it easy on me?” She unlocked the door and turned the sign. As she limped back to the counter, he saw a slight grimace that she quickly covered with a smile.

  “Not at all. It’s important to see what is working to bring in customers and what isn’t. And I’d like to get prepared for the block party. I’m giving away a rocking chair. And by Saturday I’d like to have that website up and running so I can promote it to people who show up.”

  “Good idea.” She took a seat on the stool behind the counter. “Where do I start?”

  He reached next to her and pulled out the daily-sales logs. He placed it in front of her, leaning too close. His shoulder brushed hers and a faint tropical scent swirled up to greet him. He opened the book and pointed at the figures. Her dark hair fell forward in a softly scented curtain. She pushed it back with her hand.

  “This is what I’ve been logging.” He pointed to the different dates and the special events or promotions on that day. “I want to see if our sales figures are random or directly linked to any of the promotions we’ve tried. Advertising, special events, workshops, whatever.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll go through and see what I can find. And really, I’m not going to sit here for the
next week. I’ve got to talk to the different store owners about the block party. It’s five days away.”

  “I know it’s coming up. I’ve got to run out later. I’ll go by and make sure the advertisement is going in the paper on Thursday. If you want, I can run errands and talk to the other shop owners. The ones I can’t see in person, you can call.”

  She moved her finger across the ledger he’d been keeping sales totals written in. “Okay, that’s good.”

  “That should keep you busy for a while. And when I go to lunch, I don’t want you up trying to see how much you can get done while I’m gone.”

  She smiled at that. “I would never…”

  “You would.”

  “I can’t wait to hear how the date goes.”

  He ignored her teasing. “It isn’t a date.”

  “Fine, it isn’t a date.” She hopped down from the stool and hobbled over to the coffeepot. She lifted it and he nodded. She poured two cups and handed him one.

  “You never know, Patrick. The right woman is out there somewhere.” She looked away, going back to the counter and the sales figures. But not before he saw a flash in her dark eyes. Why?

  “Do you want to cancel your class for today?”

  She glanced his way and shook her head. “No, I can teach it. Stop worrying about me.”

  Stop worrying. He agreed. She had been taking care of herself for a long time. Fortunately the customer that had come in was heading his way with a look on his face that said he needed assistance.

  Patrick would gladly give the help needed if it got him out of the conversation that shouldn’t have become so tense. But it had.

  Gracie tried to pretend she didn’t care when Patrick left for his lunch date. It shouldn’t matter. He was her boss. He had a right to his privacy, and really, he didn’t owe her any explanations. He told her he might not be back for a few hours. He had the list of people to talk to about the block party. All of the loose ends she’d planned to wrap up and hadn’t been able to.

  The Workshop for Women started two hours after he left. Gracie looked around the small group, smiling at the disappointed faces. Phyllis, present at the three previous workshops, appeared to be the most disappointed by his absence.