And then he did. His lips were soft, the hint of a bristling mustache on his upper lip adding an exciting roughness. Only their mouths touched, and only for the briefest of moments. Before she could acknowledge that this was truly happening, he was already stepping back. He looked as stunned as she felt. Without a word, Ryan spun on his heel and jogged off, down the hall to the locker room. Bree brought a shaky hand to her lips as she watched him go.
A mixture of old hurts and sexual frustration had her snapping at him, “It wasn’t my idea. In fact, if it were up to me, you wouldn’t even have to do this stupid calendar.” Was it hot in here?
She might as well have slapped him. Ryan looked ... wounded. Oh, for crying out loud! First he doesn’t want to have anything to do with the project, then he’s hurt when she agrees with him. There was no pleasing this man!
“It had already been decided, among the board members, that you would be the calendar cover. The piece de resistance.” He only glowered at her so she elaborated. “The whole ‘hometown hero’ thing.”
“And there it is.” Ryan faced forward, slapping his hand against his thigh and biting his lip as though he had a lot more to say.
“You don’t like being put into that position.” She reached out a hand, barely touching his bicep with her fingertips.
“Ya think?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and tunneled his fingers through his hair.
“Ryan, talk to me. I want to understand.”
He used to thrive on the limelight. Back in high school he was proud of the attention. He couldn’t go anywhere in town without a slap on the back, a handshake, and a hearty wave. And it wasn’t just praise. Bree could remember the free sodas they’d offer Ryan at the mini mart. The two gas stations in town vying for his business with free gas and car washes. He’d loved it all.
“You know what a hometown hero is? It’s someone who has made a sacrifice for their town. Someone who has given their life or a limb or something in service to their country. Something important.
“But Scallop Shores is so damned tiny that they don’t have one of those. So they make do. They pick a high school kid who was pretty talented with a football. He gave them some good memories, something to be proud of all these years later. And they put him up on this pedestal. Where he doesn’t belong.” He spit the last words out on a snarl, his hands curled into fists in his lap.
“You said it yourself. You made them proud. If they want to honor that, what’s the harm?”
“I was supposed to make them proud. I was on my way. I tried.” His anguished expression focused on his worn denim-clad thighs.
Bree bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t used to grown men showing their emotions. Ryan was bitterly upset and it killed her to see him like this. If it were one of her little brothers, she would have taken him on her lap and held him close until he calmed down. But Ryan was an adult, way too big to put on her lap. Her cheeks grew hot.
“No ‘tried’ about it. You did make them proud, Ryan. We’re a simple town. You worked hard to get us to State and we won. You deserve the accolades.”
“Aw hell, that’s all I did. The recognition was for what I was supposed to do. I was on my way to a career in the NFL. I was supposed to be a pro football player. Then they could have called me a celebrity. But not now. Not when I failed them.”
“What are you talking about? Because you aren’t a football player now? You honestly think they care, Ryan? You don’t know for a fact that you would have gone pro. Sure, it would have been great. But it certainly wasn’t a given.”
“I got a full ride to UCLA on a football scholarship and I ended up a bean counter. And why? Because I got injured during a game? At practice? No! Because I slipped on the wet tile in the friggin’ dorm bathroom and messed up my knee bad enough to end my career before it even started. I’m not the town hero. I’m the town joke.”
Okay, this part she didn’t know. Word got back to Scallop Shores that Ryan had gotten hurt, that he’d torn his knee and needed surgery to correct it. It had just been assumed that he’d received the injury during a game. But it didn’t matter. The only person who cared about the specifics was Ryan.
The silence that followed told her he’d revealed more than he meant to. He was embarrassed. Again, she was torn between the desire to get up, give him the space to compose himself and the urge to take him in her arms and comfort him. She’d made the hard choice to let go of her own difficult past and it looked like Ryan needed to do the same thing.
“I’ll do it for you. The calendar.” He finally spoke, looking over at her, his warm brown eyes full of pain and regret. “Not for the town. Not for the notoriety. Just you. But I ask one thing in return.”
“Name it.” She didn’t need to ask first. She knew she could trust him.
“Help me connect with Wes.”
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you do. Don’t pretend you don’t see it. Bree, the kid is like a miniature version of you. He’d much rather be by himself, nose in a book. He has a hard time making friends. But he’s happy. I don’t want to change him. I just want to understand him and find some way to relate to him.”
“I’m not sure how to help with that.” She wrinkled her nose, her head tilted to the side.
“You two were discussing books. Series, right? Teach me about those books. Give me the Cliff’s Notes version so I can have the same talks with him. Help me keep up. Help me be able to recommend something I think he’d like.”
The man was a jock, through and through. He probably hadn’t read a book for pleasure since ... well, probably never. But in Bree’s eyes he’d just made Father of the Year. It would have been far easier to force his own interests on his son, teach the kid football, baseball, anything he felt comfortable with. But he chose to support Wesley’s interests. And how could she say no to that?
Chapter 5
“So … how did your date with Foster go? Have I told you how proud I am that you took the initiative and asked him first?” Cady set a big mug of coffee in front of Bree and sat down across from her.
“It’s funny you should ask. See, I don’t remember telling you that I even asked him, let alone that we’d already gone out on a date.” Apparently the slice of banana bread she had ordered was considered community property, because Cady was already nibbling on a corner she’d pinched off.
“Silly Bree. I see all. Okay, I am told all.”
“Amanda?” She’d forgotten that Cady was best friends with Foster’s sister.
“Nope. Heard it from the man himself. You shocked him. In a good way, mind you.”
Bree groaned. This wasn’t good. She still hadn’t talked to Foster since their date several nights ago. He’d called a couple of times but, like the coward she was, she had let it go to voicemail.
“I’m guessing that means it didn’t go so well.” Cady’s frown was sympathetic. She leaned across the table. “Was he a bad kisser? I’ve always pictured him as a good kisser, but I could be wrong.”
“What were you doing picturing Foster and kissing, anyway?” Bree slapped at Cady’s hand when the woman reached for another bite of her banana bread.
This was getting distracting. She’d come here to get some work done on the fundraiser, work out a contact list and a budget. Cady was not making that easy.
“And speaking of kissing, shouldn’t you be off on your honeymoon? Generally that follows a wedding, such as you had.”
“It’s the middle of winter, in case you haven’t noticed.” Cady grinned broadly. “Burke has promised to take me to Paris in the spring.”
Bree let out a long sigh. Paris. Such a romantic city. The setting for so many incredible literary classics.
“All right, already! You aren’t going to bring it up on your own and I am dying to hear all about it.” Cady bounced in her seat.
“The date with Foster?” Why was she still on about that?
“No, the calendar!”
�
��Shh!” Bree hissed across the table. “How on Earth did you hear about that one?” Cady was good, but she wasn’t that good.
Her friend beamed from ear to ear. Her gaze swept the counter, where all the coffee shop regulars were busy with their own conversations. Turning back to Bree, she didn’t bother to hide the mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Martha was in the other day,” she began.
“She told you!”
“You didn’t let me finish. She came in for some pastries for a board meeting. Said they were having trouble coming up with a fundraising idea for a new roof for the library.” Cady paused to let her words sink in.
“This was your idea? So I suppose you were the one to suggest I be put in charge, too?”
“Hey, you were the one who had the big New Year’s resolution to find your own happily ever after.”
“Do I dare ask what organizing a calendar shoot of half-naked men has to do with my finding true love?”
“If you have to ask, sweetheart, it has been far too long,” Cady winked.
“Oh, good lord ... ” Bree threw her hands up in surrender. “What if I told you that the date with Foster was amazing and we realized we’re soul mates and can’t believe it took us so long to figure it out?”
“Then I’d say you were lying.”
“Because Foster already told you about the date,” Bree finished for her.
“Back to the drawing board, right?” Cady gestured to the notebook on the table. “So who do you have on your list so far?”
“Your brother, for one. Do you think he’d do it?” Bree hunched down into the cowl neckline of her sweater, as if she could hide from the crazy fiasco that had become her life.
“Oh, please. In a heartbeat. Next?”
“Foster. Or is that too awkward? What if he won’t speak to me? I’ve kind of been avoiding him.”
“He’ll do it because you need him. And have you ever known Foster to be angry at anyone? I don’t think it’s physically possible. Talk to the guy. If you’re on the same page about the date, great. If not, he deserves to know the truth. Who else ya got?”
“Ryan Pettridge. I asked him last night. The board wants him on the cover.”
“Great idea! Love the hometown hero angle.”
Bree forked up a bite of banana bread and simply nodded.
“Okay, you’ve got the ones you’re comfortable with. Now it’s time to step outside your comfort zone and ask some men you aren’t as familiar with.”
“We’re still talking about the calendar, right?” Bree’s laughter betrayed her nerves.
“Who says you can’t pull double duty? You have been given an amazing opportunity here. Why waste it?”
“You mean, you arranged for this amazing opportunity. But finding someone to fall in love with is really something I need to do on my own.”
“I totally understand that. But tell me the truth, when were you planning to get up the nerve to ask someone new out? Things didn’t work out with Foster, but he’s not the only single guy in Scallop Shores. You need to put yourself out there. And if you happen to choose some men for the calendar that you’d like to get to know better ... Again, amazing opportunity.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bree stood up, comfortable enough in her friend’s coffee shop that she didn’t think twice about heading behind the counter and refilling her own coffee mug.
“I can’t believe you aren’t more excited about it.” Cady tagged along behind her.
“Come on, look at me. I’m a librarian. A dowdy librarian. And I am tasked with finding twelve hot guys to sell enough copies of a calendar to fund a library roof.”
“You are far more beautiful than you realize, hon. But if that’s what has you worried, let’s do something about it.”
“Like what?” Bree turned around, coffee carafe in her hand.
“A makeover. Oooh, it will be fun!”
“You mean like doing each other’s nails and stuff?” She shuddered at the thought.
“I mean like taking you to Kayla’s Kut and Kurl and getting you a new look. Oh, and shopping! New clothes. New shoes.”
Bree gave her friend a considering look. She’d been telling herself the same thing lately. Somehow hearing Cady say it made it easier to admit. She returned the coffee to the warmer as she thought it over.
“I want highlights.”
“Yes! That’s perfect.”
“And layers.”
“See? I’m not pushing you into this at all. You’ve clearly been giving it some thought already.”
The bell over the door sounded and the women looked up in time to see Foster stroll in.
“Excellent timing, my friend. Bree has something she wants to ask you.” Cady sashayed over, hooking her arm in his and pulling him to the counter.
“Sometimes I could cheerfully punch you in the stomach,” Bree glowered.
“Do you do crunches, Foster?” Cady tickled him in the ribs.
“Really. I hate you.” Bree folded her arms across her chest.
“Quit hiding on the other side of the counter and come out here like a good girl.” Foster held out a hand. “We need to talk.”
Oh boy. Two birds, one stone. Bree took one last swig of coffee and prepared to face the music.
Foster led her to a quieter table in the corner, where they wouldn’t be disturbed. She looked up to see if Cady was going to come over with coffee for her latest customer, perhaps bring a pastry that she’d shamelessly ‘share’. Nope. The woman had the audacity to turn her back on Bree and focus on refilling coffee cups at the counter. No backup there.
“It didn’t go quite like we were expecting, hmm?” He stretched his long legs out under the table, nudging her foot with one. Whether on purpose or not, she wasn’t sure.
“I had a very nice time, Foster. Truly.” Guilt may have forced her to sound a little more enthusiastic than she’d meant.
“Enough to go out with me again? I could cook.” The crinkling at the corners of his eyes told her he was teasing her.
“Thank you for not insisting on a goodnight kiss. I just think that would have been incredibly awkward.” She blushed, recalling the sweet hug that Foster had given her on her front porch after he’d finished his cocoa and washed both their mugs.
“Can I ask you something?” Again, his foot brushed up against hers and this time she knew it was deliberate.
“Of course.”
“If we hadn’t run into Ryan, if it had just been you and me, with no interruptions, would you have agreed to go out with me on a second date?”
Bree’s breath caught in her throat. Foster couldn’t possibly know about her and Ryan. His flirty smile still in place, but she detected just a hint of resignation in his posture, in the tightness of his jaw. He already knew the answer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, with regard to Ryan,” she answered breezily. “But, a second date? Probably not.” She bit her bottom lip, unsure whether a pat on his hand would come across as an apology, as she intended, or a brush off. To be on the safe side, she remained still.
“Well, I hope ‘new’ Bree gets up the nerve to finally go after what she wants. You deserve to be happy, sweetheart.”
And with that, Foster stood up from the table, leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek. Those deliciously carved dimples flashed as he winked at her before heading up to the counter to order his coffee. She smiled. Foster Duncan wouldn’t be single for long.
• • •
Guilt. He couldn’t seem to get away from it today. First for dropping Wesley off with Bree for the morning while he headed over to his folks. When he reluctantly told his son that it would be better if he visited alone, it had been Wesley’s idea to ask Bree if he could spend the time there. The poor kid hadn’t made any friends at school this first week. The only real friend he’d made was Ryan’s former tutor. Oh, who was he kidding? She’d been a hell of a lot more than that to him once. His heart was all for findin
g excuses to see her again. His head reminded him he’d made some really bad choices where Bree was concerned and she deserved better than the schmuck who had left her. Okay, more guilt there.
Now he’d reached his parents’ house, only to discover that their driveway and porch were perfectly snow free, meaning someone else had done it for them. More than likely his mother had hired somebody local. He’d been so focused on Wesley this week, and getting the hardware store back open that he’d completely forgotten that his father couldn’t clear off his own driveway or steps anymore. Worst son in the world.
To top it off, his mother seemed to feel obligated to feed him whenever he stopped by. So while Ryan took off his boots and ski jacket at the door, his mother hurried into the kitchen to fix him a snack. He’d love it if she could just sit down and relax, but that just wasn’t in her nature. Knowing it would make her feel better, he waited while she put together a roast beef sandwich, potato chips, and a dill pickle on the side.
“Heard you stopped by the fire station,” he mentioned between bites. “Luke says you’ve spoiled the whole department, baking them cookies like that.”
“I refuse to apologize for pushing you to spend a little free time. Wes told me you never went out while you were living in California. He wasn’t even sure you had any friends out there.”
“Little traitor. It’s not like he could talk. We Pettridge men are loners. That’s all.” There was a fine line between being a loner and being lonely, but he wasn’t going to explore that just now.
“Rubbish. So what brings you by today—without my grandson?”
“Can’t a son come check on his father without the third degree?” Ryan took a big bite of sandwich and blinked innocently as he chewed.
Anne shook her head, watching him speculatively as she puttered around her spotless kitchen.
“How’s he doing?”
She twisted the dishtowel in her hands, lowering her voice as she glanced anxiously toward the living room doorway.
Always My Hero Page 5