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Something to Prove

Page 15

by Kimberly Lang


  “And judged by Hugh Jackman.”

  “You gave me high marks, though, so Hugh’s opinion doesn’t really matter.” Setting the glass on the nightstand, he lay back down with a sigh.

  It was a small opening, but she’d have to take it. “But the neighbors’ do.”

  “What?”

  Perching on the foot of the bed, safely far enough from Ryan’s impressive chest to resist temptation, she said, “Your truck is still in my driveway, and you know half the neighborhood has made note of that. People will start to talk because there’s no good non-naked reason for you to be here past midnight.”

  “I don’t really care.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since now. It’s nobody’s business who I sleep with.”

  “You think I’m going to go bragging or confirming any rumors?” he asked.

  “No,” she admitted, “but I’d rather it not even be an issue.”

  “You do know how hard it is to keep a secret in this town, right?”

  “I do. Which is all the more reason to get on top of this before anyone gets suspicious.”

  “It’s not their business.”

  “Oh, like that’s actually ever mattered to anyone.” She rolled her eyes. “And since you’re Magnolia Beach’s favorite son, this will be front-page news. I can see the headline now. ‘Mayor of Magnolia Beach Seduced by—’” A chill ran down her spine. “Oh, shit. You’re the mayor.” She got up and started to pace as she realized the ramifications of this.

  Ryan looked at her like she was a little slow. “Yes,” he said carefully, “but you knew that already.”

  “I knew it in theory, but it wasn’t real. Christ. Magnolia Beach will lose its collective mind if they find out Mayor Tanner had sex with Hell-on-Wheels.” She tossed him his clothes. “You need to get out of here.”

  “I’d think I’d remember if celibacy had been part of my oath of office.” He laughed, but Helena didn’t find any of this funny. “I’m allowed to have sex.”

  “Not with me.” The look on Ryan’s face questioned her sanity. She leaned against her dresser to explain. “I will destroy your career.”

  “Intentionally?” Ryan laughed again. “Jeez, Helena, I didn’t know you were so displeased with my performance.”

  “Be serious. Think about it for a second, will you? I’m Magnolia Beach’s reigning Bad Girl and Poor Example. Sleeping with me shows pretty poor judgment on your part.”

  “I disagree—”

  She didn’t let him finish. “Your image, your credibility, will be damaged by any association with me. People will lose respect for you. If you like your job as mayor, I’m a bad choice for recreational activities.”

  “I think you’re overreacting. And, not to burst your bubble, but I don’t think you’re so bad that your reputation could harm mine.” She started to interrupt, but he didn’t let her. “And anyway, if you think I care what small-minded busybodies think, you’re mistaken.”

  “Those small-minded busybodies voted you into office,” she reminded him.

  “And if they think my personal life is adversely affecting my mayoral duties, they are welcome to elect someone else to the job.”

  It sounded very logical, and it was a bit flattering, but if she’d learned anything about Ryan in the last few weeks, it was that he loved being mayor and took the position seriously.

  “I’m not ashamed of myself,” he continued, “but it sounds like you are.”

  “I’m trying to be realistic here.” She motioned to his clothes. “If you don’t care about your reputation, that’s fine, but I still think it’s best that you get dressed and go. I don’t want Grannie to have to face another round of people gossiping about her granddaughter.”

  He finally started to get dressed. “So you’re worried about me and Ms. Louise, but not yourself. How altruistic.”

  “I am thinking of myself, too. I don’t need that crap on top of everything else. And Tate doesn’t—”

  “Tate?”

  “You think the fact I chose to sleep with you but not him won’t hurt his feelings? And if, as you say, everyone knows he ‘always had a thing for me,’ then that would be doubly hurtful and embarrassing for him.”

  “Ah, well, we wouldn’t want Tate to be embarrassed.” He pulled on his shirt and reached for his shoes. “Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

  This conversation had not gone as planned, but it had been effective. Ryan was getting dressed and leaving, and that had been the whole point. She should be glad. They could sort the rest of it out later—in daylight hours, when it wouldn’t look questionable for him to be there at all.

  The tension and ill mood radiating off him bothered her, though, and left her feeling conflicted.

  But that wasn’t something she wanted to examine too closely right now.

  Chapter 10

  “What did you do last night? You look like hell.”

  Ryan looked up from his phone as Shelby flopped into the seat across from him. He’d landed on the front step of Latte Dah at one minute past opening time so Molly could load him up on her high-octane coffee in hopes that he might be able to face the day. He was bone-tired from lack of sleep, sore in muscles he’d forgotten he had, and more than a little pissed off about the way Helena had all but hustled him out the door. He had every reason to look like hell, but that didn’t mean he was going to tell his cousin about it. “Well, we all can’t be as naturally gorgeous as you first thing in the morning.”

  “Don’t be an ass.”

  “Learn to take a compliment.”

  Molly materialized with a coffeepot and topped up his cup, scolding them at the same time. “No bickering in my shop, y’all. Especially this early in the morning.” She then turned a bright smile on Shelby. “The usual? Or do you want to try something different?”

  Shelby looked over at the menu board like she might be considering it, although Ryan knew it was just an act. It was a good act, though, perfected through years of practice until even the family could sometimes forget that it was just a cover. “The usual.” Molly nodded and went behind the counter, and Shelby eased back in her chair. “Seriously, you look exhausted. Are you getting sick? I could run you over to the clinic.”

  There was an almost hopeful lilt in her voice that he sincerely hoped he was imagining. “I’m just tired. I was up late.”

  She smirked. “Doing something fun, I hope.”

  He nearly spit his coffee, earning him a strange look from Shelby. “I was working. Trying to finish up at Ms. Louise’s,” he added, getting ahead of the gossip. If people had noticed his truck in Helena’s driveway that late, it would be better to go ahead and proclaim the information far and wide before any type of innuendo could become attached to it.

  “Are you almost done there?”

  It was hard to say, considering how things had changed so dramatically last night, but also not something to discuss with Shelby. “I think so.”

  “Good.” She smiled at Molly as she set coffee and a bagel on the table in front of her.

  “Why?” he asked carefully.

  “Because it’s been eating up what little free time you have.”

  There was no way Shelby would be concerned about his free time unless she had another idea in mind of how he should fill it. He was almost afraid to ask because he was afraid he knew. “And?”

  “Have you met Kathryn Kendall? The new physician’s assistant at the clinic?”

  Christ, he was not in the mood for Shelby’s attempts at matchmaking. But it explained why she’d been so eager to take him to the clinic. “Can’t say that I have. I haven’t been sick lately.”

  “I told your daddy that he needed to do something to introduce her around and make her feel welcome. All of her family is up north somewhere, and she doesn’t r
eally know anyone here yet.”

  “She obviously knows you, so there’s that.”

  Shelby ignored him. “I was thinking of getting a group together, maybe at my place, for a little potluck or something, just to introduce her to some folks.”

  Be vague. “That’s very nice of you.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  Okay, try noncommittal. “If I’m available.”

  “Ryan . . .”

  Direct, then. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person, but I’m not going to let you set me up with her just because you feel like playing at matchmaking.”

  Shelby pouted. It was a fake pout—not that it would have worked on him even if it were genuine—and it looked a little silly on the normally straightforward Shelby. “She is lovely,” she insisted, “inside and out, and you’d probably have a lot in common.”

  “Such as . . .”

  “Such as . . .” She thought for a minute, then shrugged it away. “I’m sure you’d find something.”

  Shelby might like to consider herself a bit of a matchmaker, but she wasn’t very good at it. Mostly because it was hard to make matches in a town where almost everyone knew everyone else and would have made their own connections if the chemistry was there. “Thanks, Shel, but no.”

  “When was the last time you went on a date with a woman?”

  Did last night count as a date? He hadn’t been planning on proposing marriage or anything, but he’d considered it something like a date until Helena had brushed it off so easily.

  Shelby misinterpreted his silence. “See? This is what I mean. You’re good-looking, successful, charming. . . . There’s no reason for you to be single.”

  “Your brother is single. Hell, so are both of mine. Why are you not setting them up?”

  “One Tanner boy at a time.” She grinned. “You’re the oldest, so I’m starting with you.”

  “What about you?”

  She licked cream cheese off her fingers. “What about me?”

  “You’re single, too. We seem to have an entire generation of single Tanners, much to our mothers’ dismay over the lack of grandchildren.”

  “That’s a completely different situation.” She tried to sound flippant about it, but he noticed her squirming a little in her seat. “The pickings are rather slim since I’m related to most of the single men around here.”

  “Surely there’s someone we could invite to your little Love Connection potluck.” As Shelby got increasingly uncomfortable, Ryan realized he should have turned that table years ago.

  “Well, let me know if you happen to come across an eligible bachelor.”

  “How about Tate Harris?”

  “Oh, I wish.” Shelby sighed, making him regret he’d even brought it up. “He’s definitely a hottie. But I think if he had any interest in me, he’d have made a move long ago.”

  Well, he’s been too busy carrying a torch for Helena.

  Shelby shrugged. “But you, on the other hand, are an all-around good-looking, genuinely nice guy—at least as far as anyone not in the bloodline knows,” she added cheekily. “You’ll be much easier to pair off than I’ll ever be.”

  “Not true. Who in his right mind wouldn’t adore you?”

  Shelby made a face at him. “You’re real funny.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You have to love me. Your mother would kill you if you didn’t.”

  Poor Shelby. She was so used to being dismissed as “sweet, but not too bright” that she believed it. That, coupled with her natural tomboy leanings, made her socially awkward outside her small group of friends. It probably was hard for her to date, and he was rather ashamed of himself for not realizing it sooner.

  Not that he was going to let her get by with this stunt just because of that. Paybacks were hell. “Hmm, I think my next official act as mayor will be to declare a Shelby Tanner Appreciation Day—” He had to dodge the coffee Shelby spit in shock across the table at his words. “We’ll have a parade, with you riding in a convertible in front, showing you off. We’ll get kids with clipboards along the route as you pass to sign up eligible men to compete for a date with you.”

  “Shut up.”

  He leaned back in his chair, warming up to the topic now as Shelby’s face turned amazing shades of red. “We can test their skills at rebuilding engines and cleaning fish, their familiarity with tidal schedules, maritime laws, Game and Fish regulations. . . .”

  Shelby started wrapping up her bagel. “I kinda hate you,” she said as she stood. “Stay single. See if I care.”

  “Oh, if only any of that were true. Bye, Shelby,” he called at her back as she walked away. She stopped at the counter to speak to Molly, then stuck her tongue out at him before backing out the door.

  That was fun. Of course, if she told either of their mothers about it, he was in for a chewing out for teasing her, but it might be worth it.

  Molly came over a minute later. “Shelby told me to give this to you.”

  It was the bill for Shelby’s breakfast.

  Leveling a look at him, Molly added, “And that was a paraphrase. I won’t tell you which unflattering adjectives she used to describe you.”

  He laughed and reached for his wallet. “I can imagine. I seem to be bringing that out in a lot of women these days.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’ve certainly put a smile on Helena’s face.”

  He fumbled his wallet. “What?”

  Molly picked it up and handed it to him. “She’s singing your praises. Says you’re amazing. Much faster than she expected and she’s more than satisfied.”

  The world went a little cock-eyed. What the . . . ? Molly knew already? And from Helena? Faster?

  Seemingly unaware of his brain melting down, Molly kept talking. “I figured as much, of course, but now I can’t wait to see it with my own eyes.” Then she winked at him, and his last brain cell misfired.

  “What did she . . .” No, he wasn’t going to ask that. “When did you talk to Helena?” he managed to ask.

  “Yesterday. We were making plans for me to go over there Saturday and help with the last bits of painting, hanging some curtains, and moving some furniture.”

  Okay, things made sense now. He just had a dirty mind. Or too much Helena on the brain. “The house.”

  “She’s so impressed with the work and how quickly you’ve gotten it all done. I know it’s a big relief for her.” Her brows pulled together. “You okay, Ryan?”

  “I’m fine. Just tired and the brain isn’t quite awake yet.”

  Molly was instantly sympathetic. “More coffee?”

  “Please. To go.” He had to get his head screwed on straight before anyone else noticed.

  She frowned as she handed over a steaming to-go cup. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  That was a loaded question.

  But all things considered, it was easier just to say yes.

  * * *

  Having a friend who owned a coffee shop might just be the best thing ever, Helena decided, because when Molly showed up bright and early Saturday morning, she brought an enormous carafe of coffee and a selection of pastries fresh from the Miller’s Bakery delivery to Latte Dah that morning.

  It certainly made facing a day of manual labor a bit easier—even if she did immediately delay the start of any such labor to properly enjoy the goodies while sitting on Grannie’s front porch.

  Molly, it seemed, was well liked, as everyone who walked past had a smile and a wave for her, and a couple of people even ventured all the way up to the porch to chat. Helena did her part, even if it boiled down to the same three sentences: “She’s much better; thanks”; “She hopes to come home very soon”; and “I’ll tell her you said hello.”

  Molly finally stood and brushed the croissant crumbs off her shorts. “We should bolt insi
de before anyone else shows up. We’ll never get finished if we have to have the same conversation with every person on the block.”

  Helena swallowed the last bite of her bagel. “That might be the most conversation I’ve had with people since I got here—barring the chitchat with the checker at the grocery store. It’s a little freaky, actually.”

  “See, people are coming around.”

  “Only because you were sitting here.”

  “Nah. They just needed to get used to the idea of your being back and get over who you used to be. It takes time, but it does happen. You just have to give people a chance to give you a chance.”

  “Oh yeah?” So far, she was zero-for-two, as both Ryan and Tate seemed to be avoiding her.

  “Yeah, you need to be more positive, Helena.”

  Helena leaned against the porch railing and crossed her arms. “And exactly how often do you go home for a visit?”

  Molly made a face. “Hush.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “We’re not talking about me,” she said primly.

  “Oh, but let’s do.”

  Molly opened the screen door and pushed her inside. “Let’s not and say we did.”

  Serious now, Helena looked at her. “Was it bad?”

  Molly hesitated for a second. “It wasn’t great, that’s for sure.”

  Helena didn’t want to pry too much, but at the same time, she needed to know how bad the scars were so she didn’t poke them too hard accidentally. “Like ‘burn it and salt the earth on your way out of town’ bad?”

  Molly seemed to be weighing that as she eyeballed the curtains waiting to be hung in Grannie’s new bedroom. “More like therapy-approved burning of bridges for the sake of my mental health.”

  “Fair enough.” It somehow seemed easier to have this kind of conversation if they were busy doing something else, so Helena climbed the stepstool so Molly could pass up the curtain rods. “You know, I can actually relate to that. ‘We have permission to let go of that which hurts us, even if we mourn what might have been,’” she quoted from memory.

  “That’s from Exorcising Your Own Demons. I have that book, too!” Molly said. “Although I think Finding Your Path to Happiness is much better. It really helped me come to terms with my mother.”

 

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