Something to Prove

by Kimberly Lang

  “Well, I kind of have to now,” he grumbled halfheartedly.

  “I’m flattered.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a nice place.”

  “You’re worth it.” He leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back briefly, feeling that little flutter in her stomach again, before pulling away and placing a finger against his lips.

  “Don’t get all sappy on me. I’m only letting you buy me dinner so that we can have sex later. Consider this the foreplay.”

  Ryan shook his head again and opened her door. “You are the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But, since I have to have you home in three hours . . .”

  “We could go to your place first,” she offered, a little ashamed at the eagerness in her voice she couldn’t hide.

  Ryan looked both amused and disappointed. “Our reservations are at seven thirty.”

  She grabbed her seat belt. “Then I guess I’ll just have to eat fast so we’ll have time after. Get in.”

  He was laughing as he closed the door.

  But he wasn’t going to be laughing when he found out she wasn’t kidding.

  That gave her a laugh as well.

  * * *

  Overall, Ryan would give his date with Helena high marks.

  They’d cut it close getting Helena home on time, but they’d made it, and the early night meant he’d actually gotten some much-needed sleep. The trade-off, though, was the pulled muscle in his back, but that was only proof that he was too old to be getting hot and heavy in the cab of his truck. There wasn’t enough room, and he wasn’t nearly as flexible as the event required. He probably still had the imprint of the gear shift on his ass.

  But the sense of satisfaction this morning was unexpected. In a way, he felt like he’d accomplished something big, which was strange, because he’d never had a hard time getting women to go out with him before. But somehow, getting Helena Wheeler to put on a dress and go out with him in public—even if she did claim to do it only in order to sleep with him—was almost something he felt he should put on his résumé to prove he could accomplish the nearly impossible.

  That “I’ll only go out to dinner with you if you agree to have sex after” stereotype reversal was something he’d think about later. Or maybe never. It would only lead to headaches, as he couldn’t decide whether his ego was being stroked or dented by the idea.

  Possibly both.

  Helena wasn’t boring or typical in any way, and that was definitely part of her charm. She had plenty of other positive qualities as well—smart, funny, kind, sexy; all of which were on display last night—but she kept him on his toes, providing a challenge, as if he had to earn her company while at the same time she was offering it freely and without strings or games.

  And there was the headache. He could feel it forming behind his eyes as he tried to untangle the infinity knot that was Helena. It was far better and easier to just accept her for exactly what she was and exactly what she presented—which was also part of her charm and somehow refreshing and easy.

  It was all very strange.

  And then it got downright weird.

  Getting out of the shower, he heard his phone go off as a text came in. It went off at least twice more in the time it took him to dry off, and it was alerting him to voice mail messages before he had his clothes on.

  Figuring someone had to be dead or dying, he finally went to the kitchen and unplugged it from the charger to see.

  Every message was from Shelby in her typical concise text style—Call me. Since the missed calls were from Shelby as well, he didn’t need to listen to the voice mails. Something was up; what, exactly, was the question. He wasn’t going to panic, though; if someone really was dead or dying, he’d have messages from multiple family members—and probably at least one person banging on his door. So whatever was going on with Shelby couldn’t be that life-threatening.

  Shelby answered her phone on the first ring and skipped right past any and all of the usual pleasantries. “It’s about damn time you called me back.”

  “What’s gotten you all riled up this morning?”

  “You and Helena Wheeler? Really?”

  It seemed Shelby wasn’t going to beat around the bush. “We went to dinner. So?”

  “So?” He couldn’t see the look on her face, but he knew exactly what it was. “I thought you were just doing some work for her.”

  “I was, and I did. And then I decided to ask her to dinner.”

  “Was it just dinner, or was it a date?”

  “What difference does it make?” He remembered Helena’s comeback to his comment on her and Tate’s dinner plans and added, “Unless you have a thing for Helena, I don’t see why you’d care.”

  “I care that you might have a ‘thing’ for Helena.”

  “Why?”

  Shelby made a few noises that may or may not have been the start of sentences. Finally, she took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t get involved with her.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business either way, but I’ll go ahead and let you tell me why.”

  “She’s not right for you.”

  “You don’t even know her, Shelby.”

  “I know enough about her.”

  He’d thought the same thing, but now he knew better. “You’d be wrong.”

  She wasn’t one to back down, even though his tone had been sharper than intended. “I know she’s bad news. She’s a troublemaker.”

  “And what has she possibly done to prove that’s the case?”

  “You’re asking me for her greatest hits?”

  “What has she done recently?” He waited. “See? Nothing.”

  “I should have known. When you were championing her cause at Gran’s that day, I should have known. What are you going to tell your mother?”

  “I don’t plan to tell her anything—because there’s nothing to tell,” he added quickly. “I took a woman to dinner. We had a nice time, but I’m a long way from having to tell my mother anything.”

  Shelby laughed at him. “Oh, good luck with that. If she doesn’t know already, she’ll know by lunchtime.”

  “You know, you’re quite possibly the only person who cares. And since you were just trying to set me up on a date with that woman at Dad’s clinic, I would think you’d be happy that I’m dating at all.”

  “So it was a date.”

  Helena might give him headaches, but no one could bring on a full-on migraine like Shelby. “Let it go, Shelby. It’s not a big deal. She’s only here for a short while, anyway.” That truth actually pinged him in a different place than it had before. A not-nice place. He wasn’t quite prepared for that.

  “Well, there is that, I guess,” she conceded. “I can’t believe it, though.”

  “You’ve made that quite clear. Now, can I go to work?”

  “Sure. Just be careful, okay?”

  “I’m going to the office and then to the Millers’ to install their cabinets. There’s nothing remotely dangerous on my agenda today.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice lost its indignant edge. “You’re a good guy, Ryan. I want you to be happy. And I don’t want someone like Helena Wheeler to hurt you.”

  As irritating and wrong as Shelby might be, he had to appreciate the sentiment. It was hard to get mad over someone’s good intentions—not impossible, of course, but hard. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You should.”

  Now running late, Ryan grabbed his stuff and his coffee and headed to his truck, only to see that Helena had left footprints on the inside of the windshield last night.

  He had to go back inside to get something to clean it off with. He didn’t have time, but he’d never hear the end of it if someone noticed.

  It was a good thing
he did, because his mother was waiting for him at city hall.

  * * *

  Grannie was up fixing coffee when Helena came downstairs the next morning. “Grannie! What are you doing? Why didn’t you call for me?”

  “I’m not an invalid,” she snapped.

  “Actually, you kind of are.” Helena took Grannie’s elbow and led her to a chair. “Sit. I’ll get it.”

  “I’m going crazy having people hover over me.”

  “Well, if you don’t take it easy, you’ll end up back at the New Day Center.” She took Grannie a cup of coffee, poured one for herself, then stuck bread into the toaster. Fortunately, Grannie wasn’t much of a breakfast eater, so Helena didn’t have to attempt eggs or anything, but she got butter and jam and one of Grannie’s pretty china plates ready. “I’ll make you a tray.”

  “I’m going to eat at the table like a human being. And I might just slap the next person who brings me a tray,” she warned.

  “So, I guess we’re feeling better today, then.” Helena had her doubts Grannie was really as better as she claimed—there were already signs of strain around her eyes just from getting herself out of bed and to the kitchen—but it was a good sign of progress, nonetheless. Grannie wasn’t a fan of idleness, so the chafing against restrictions was to be expected. “Promise me that you won’t overdo it. Slow and steady, okay?”

  “I don’t think I can promise anything. Thank you,” she added as Helena served her some toast. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night after you got home. Did you have a good time?”

  Helena refrained from mentioning that last night’s exhaustion might be a sign she wasn’t really as recovered as she might hope, but she kept those words behind her teeth, taking the chair opposite her and cuddling her coffee instead. “I did. What about you? Did you and Cal have a nice evening?”

  A little smile tugged at the corner of Grannie’s mouth. That, plus the fact Grannie had been a little disheveled upon her return last night, told Helena that Cal was more than just a platonic friend. She still didn’t want to explore that too much, but it was nice to see Grannie in the flush of a flirtation.

  “We did. We had a light dinner, watched a movie. . . . You?”

  “Dinner was fantastic. The chef at Bodine’s is a genius.”

  “Did you try the crab cakes?”

  “I did. They were amazing. Then we drove around for a little while so I could see some of the changes in town, the places I haven’t been in ages.” That was basically true. They’d passed several new things on their way to the back side of Bayside Park, and she hadn’t been to that lover’s lane since high school. Now she was fighting back her own little smile. She’d thought the pleasures to be found in the cab of a pickup truck were long in her past, that her tastes and standards had evolved beyond that, but she had been proven wrong quite quickly last night. Who knew that hard, fast, and stealthy could be so good? Thank God the police hadn’t cruised by and decided to investigate.

  “Well, I’m so glad to see you with a nice young man like Ryan Tanner for once.”

  Helena pressed imaginary pearls in wide-eyed mock shock. “Are you saying you didn’t like the boys I went out with in high school?”

  That earned her a frown. “You are well aware I didn’t. I always knew you could do so much better.”

  She fought back a smile. “Like Ryan Tanner?”

  Grannie shook her head. “Not specifically Ryan, but a polite boy from a nice family, one with a good future ahead of him. Someone who’d treat you right, take care of you—”

  “Take care of me? How very medieval, Grannie. I can take care of myself quite well—in fact, I already do.”

  “I know you can, but it’s nice to have someone else on the team, too. And Ryan Tanner is that kind of man. No offense, sweetheart, but you tended to drag the net when you went fishing.”

  “Grannie . . .”

  “So I think it’s wonderful to see you with someone like Ryan. Will you be going out with him again?”

  “He hasn’t asked, but I kind of assume he will.” She hadn’t agreed to more than one date, but Ryan had been right about one thing: She’d gotten a bit of a kick out of the rather shocked looks on people’s faces last night. “And, before you ask, yes, I probably will go if he does.”

  “Good.”

  Uh-oh, she didn’t like that smile. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Grannie,” she warned.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”

  Yeah, right. She was an over-thirty single woman who’d caught the eye of Magnolia Beach’s favorite son—if Grannie wasn’t already planning the wedding, Helena needed to call the doctor and make sure that concussion hadn’t caused permanent brain damage.

  She was saved, though, when her phone rang and Molly’s name popped up, so she left Grannie with her newspaper—and her imaginary wedding bells—and took her coffee with her to the other room to answer it. “Hey.”

  “Did everything go okay on your date last night?” Molly sounded genuinely concerned.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Then why was Shelby Tanner just in here trying to set me up on a date with Ryan?”

  Helena nearly spit her coffee out. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Hand to God. I just got an earful about all his good qualities and how it’s just so hard for him to go out with women because of his schedule and his position in the community, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Wait. Shelby said what? Why?”

  “Shelby thinks she’s Magnolia Beach’s yenta or something these days, so that’s not really the weird part,” Molly said dismissively. “But, I mean, he went out with you just last night. So unless something bad happened . . .”

  “Everything was great. Maybe she just doesn’t know that we went out.”

  “Oh, honey, she knows. Everyone knows.”

  “Everyone?” Jeez. But then, she really shouldn’t be that surprised. The sheer speed at which the news had spread was pretty impressive, though. “Was there a press release or something?”

  “Not that I saw. All I know is plenty of people are talking about it this morning. I mean, I got the news at six thirty with my pastry delivery.”

  Helena leaned her head against the couch and groaned.

  “But,” Molly added cheerfully, “I heard you looked great, if that makes you feel any better.”

  “Oh, that makes it much better, thank you.”

  “Look, I just wanted to make sure nothing bad had happened on your date. If you think it went fine, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “But Shelby—”

  “Is a busybody.” Molly dismissed it easily. “She’s sweet, and I like her a lot, but she’s a bit of a meddler.”

  “Who doesn’t want me going out with her cousin, it seems.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing she doesn’t get a vote, then, isn’t it?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Okay, enough of this. We’re moving on now. So . . . ? How was it?”

  She was constantly amazed at Molly’s ability to just move past things. She, on the other hand, needed a second to shift gears. “Great. We went to dinner at Bodine’s. . . .”

  “Ooh, fancy.”

  “And then we went for a drive. I had to be home by ten to look after Grannie, so it was a short evening.”

  “But fun, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she answered honestly, but she could feel her smirk, and she was glad Molly couldn’t see it.

  “You had sex with him,” Molly declared flatly.

  “Uh, what?” Was Molly clairvoyant?

  “Oh my God, I’m right. It was wild guess, but I was right!” she crowed.

  Damn it. “Um . . .” Great, now I sound like a slut. As far as everyone knew, last night had been their first “date,” and there was no way to defend herself from what was the truth. Even if
it wasn’t really like that at all.

  “Oh, honey, I’m not judging you for it. Well, actually I am,” she amended, “but in a good way, because it shows you have excellent taste. I won’t ask for details because you’ve already said everything went great, so that answers the most important one. I am slightly jealous, though.”

  Helena was slightly dizzy from trying to keep up, but she did catch that last bit. Now was her chance. “Maybe you should give—”

  “Oops. I gotta go. Bible study at Grace Baptist just let out, and here they all come. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Oh, okay, bye.” But Molly had already hung up.

  Helena leaned back and rubbed her eyes. So the entire town knew. It was interesting that while Molly said everyone was talking about it, she hadn’t reported the tone or content of those conversations. That fact alone spoke volumes.

  Shelby’s reaction, though, was just strange. Matchmaker wannabe or not, why would she be trying to set Ryan up on a date just hours after he’d had one? Try as she might, Helena couldn’t think of a reason for Shelby to dislike her. Shelby had been too young—and if anything, she’d have been merely adjacent to any happenings that occurred, not in the middle of them. Shelby hadn’t done anything to her; therefore it was very unlikely she could have done something to Shelby. Unless Shelby was acting out of solidarity with her brother, Jamie, who was still holding a grudge.

  It was weird, sure. But what was even weirder was that she found it more amusing than insulting.

  Either she was completely twisted or remarkably mature.

  Oddly, she felt she might be both.

  The slide of chair legs across linoleum had her on her feet and headed back to the kitchen to get to Grannie before she overdid it and hurt herself.

  Mature Helena had things to do today. She’d worry about what Shelby and the rest of Magnolia Beach thought later.

  Chapter 14