Lexy squeaked a protest. “Are you high? He’s a twenty-five-year-old who also works for me. Geez, what kind of a morally devoid lech do you think I am?” She scissored her hands in front of her. “Seriously, lay off, guys. I have to be onstage soon, and you’re stressing me out more than I’m already stressed out.”
“Fine, fine,” Faith said, as she replaced the lipstick in the little bag. “But we’ll get the goods out of you sooner or later.”
“There’s nothing to get,” Lexy said, but she knew she was blushing.
“Lex?” The ever-observant Cagney asked, her blond head tilted curiously to the side. “Is everything okay, hon?”
To her horror, Lexy’s chin quivered once, and she opened her mouth to speak—
“Hey, Lex,” Brody called out through a cupped hand, from a few feet away. Saved by the yell. Then again, maybe not. Two men and a boy loped toward them, all smiles. “Look who I ran into.”
“Miss Lexy!” she heard, just before Ian barreled toward her and hurled himself into her lap.
“Oof!” she said, laughing. Which was better than crying any day. The moment he’d settled in her lap, she felt more relaxed. Focused. Serene. “Hey, honeybunch. How’s my little hero?”
“Ian Kimball,” Drew said, rushing forward with concern clouding his eyes. He squatted before her chair, bringing him eye-to-eye with his son. “How many times do I have to tell you not to plow into people?”
“Sorry,” Ian said to Lexy, by rote, before turning back to his father. “But it’s Miss Lexy, Daddy. I haven’t seen her in a really, really, really long time.” He curled, unabashed, into the curve of her shoulder.
Drew shook his head, then smiled into her eyes. “At the risk of repeating myself, I apologize for the little monkey’s bad manners.”
“No worries.”
She swallowed, albeit with a bit of difficulty. God, she wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he was a thousand times hotter out of bed than in it.
A hospital bed, that is.
In jeans and a loose-fitting, cream-colored shirt that skimmed his shoulder muscles and hinted at taut abs, Drew Kimball was the person bringing sexy back, not her. And he would never be hers. Not in a million years. This was bad, bad, bad news. “It’s—” gulp “—good to see you again,” she said, trying not to let her inexplicable feelings come through in those six little words. Failed miserably, of course.
He wouldn’t catch it, but her nosy friends would.
“A-and, you look good,” she added, quickly. “Much better, I mean.”
“You, too. You look…wow, really great.”
“Hello?” Faith prompted, spreading her arms wide.
“Oh, sorry.” Lexy didn’t have to look at her friends to know what they were assuming. They had, after all, disappeared to her the moment she’d seen Drew, like the Tony and Maria dance scene from West Side Story. She could almost hear their brains ticking, and felt like a puzzle they were frantically piecing together. Little did they know, the puzzle was missing that warm, beating red piece directly in the center.
Bracing herself, she waved a wan hand toward the crowd. “Everyone? Drew and Ian Kimball. Drew, these are my borderline-annoying friends. I can’t be held responsible for anything they may blurt out. It’s a full pack, so I’ll leave the introductions to them.”
As everyone took their time sharing handshakes, hugs and names, Lexy slumped in her chair, enjoying the simple warmth of Ian against her shoulder, but feeling trapped and scared. Not by this sweet little boy, but by the imminent, inevitable questions her friends would pummel her with. Questions for which she had no answers.
True, she was the only one in their group who hadn’t gotten married. But, ever since Cagney and Jonas had reunited, everyone seemed to be hell-bent on a mission to remedy that. They didn’t understand….
She just prayed they wouldn’t say anything mortifying in front of Drew or Ian. It was bad enough that they’d draw conclusions and demand details when none existed.
But, ridiculously, after all she’d told herself she didn’t need—nor did she want romance, a man, love—she still wished such details existed with her and Drew.
That’s the thing.
She wished she was worthy of a man like Drew Kimball. She couldn’t deny an inexplicable pull toward him and his adorable, energetic son. Being around them soothed the restlessness inside her, but it was a dead end, and she knew it. Just her luck, being attracted to a man who seemed to be still mourning his late wife. A man whose hobby she’d never share. A man who wasn’t looking.
A man. Sigh.
Face it, Lex, you’re scared.
A shudder ran through her. Sure, she was scared. Or maybe just realistic. Drew and Ian and all of Troublesome Gulch had built her up to be some kind of a superwoman. Her friends had her pegged as some sort of a catch. Frankly, she wasn’t either one. Just the opposite. The more she thought about it, the more panicky she felt. Once Drew and Ian knew the truth about her…
Couple that with the fact that she knew any man who’d even want to fall for her, with all her differences, would have to be someone special. Not that Drew wasn’t, but she didn’t know and didn’t feel ready to put herself out there, to risk that kind of possible pain. Moot point. She still felt so wholeheartedly undeserving of unconditional love.
Wimp.
The thing was, she and Drew could be friends, right? Friends worked. The whole friendship thing was all she’d allowed herself for years.
So this time why did friendship feel like…not enough?
“Stupid,” she muttered.
Ian whipped a glance at her. “Hey, that’s what Daddy kept saying on the way here.” He scrambled off her lap and bounced toward his father.
Her gaze shot to Drew’s and held for a second. Was it her imagination, or did he look as alarmed as she felt?
Faith leaned toward her ear as the men engaged Drew, and eventually Ian, in conversation. “The lipstick name makes all the sense in the world now,” she whispered, in a smug drawl. “He is hot.”
“Please stop,” Lexy said, her voice shaky. “It’s just a coincidence. I’m not interested in him. I’m not interested in anyone. And I don’t want to be forced in that direction.”
“Why not?”
A pause. “Just don’t say a word, Faith, I’m serious.”
Faith smirked as if she knew a secret, but what she didn’t realize was that Lexy wanted to bolt. She wanted the safety of her world, her job, her solitude. She didn’t want these issues of worth and guilt, need and yearning, cropping up in her life again.
Perfect match to the dress or not, Lexy vehemently regretted that lipstick purchase. The last thing she needed was a pack of matchmakers breathing down her neck when, depressingly, there wasn’t a match to be made. Not that she had a choice in the matter, knowing her friends.
She eased out a breath of tension.
Let the games begin.
Chapter Six
It wouldn’t go away.
Dammit. What was it about Drew Kimball?
That’s what she couldn’t figure out.
He was just a man, right? Like every other man. She worked with men, she had male friends. Men walked through her world on a regular basis. So why did this man make her do something crazy like buy a new dress, for God’s sake, and matching lipstick to boot? When he’d never expressed so much as one iota of interest in her? When she’d so much as told herself she wasn’t anywhere near ready to risk it?
Lexy tapped her fingertips against her lips and studied him through dark sunglasses that masked the direction of her gaze. All her friends had, thankfully, laid off the twenty questions after growing bored with her nonanswers. They’d wandered off in various directions to enjoy the post-ceremony socializing. She was finally free to observe without being observed, to brood. She needed the time to figure out the riddle that was Drew Kimball.
Phew, did she ever.
One benefit her chair provided was a semblance of invisibility
whenever she wanted it. She’d never struggled to be noticed, and the accident hadn’t changed that. The chair hadn’t stood in her way of being seen as Lexy, because she hadn’t allowed that. But when she wanted to retreat, like now, it came in super-handy.
She eased her way slightly out of the fray, adjacent to the refreshments table, and settled in to…people-watch.
You can lie to the world, but don’t lie to yourself.
Okay. Drew-watch.
It had to be Yvette and her crazy talk, but Lexy couldn’t seem to shake the ridiculous, romantic notion of Drew out of her brain, even though the realistic side of her knew it was futile. A relationship wasn’t even on her radar. Her time was consumed by work and therapy and fitness and friends and…life. The life of solitude she’d built, post-prom-night accident. But there he stood in the dappled sunlight…all golden hair and unassuming hotness, and she couldn’t just attribute this pull she felt simply to Yvette’s offhand comment. Or to the fact that she adored his precious son.
This felt like more. And that terrified her.
She needed to…understand her uncharacteristic fear. To embrace it, remember why she lived the way she did. So she watched. Simply watched.
Sitting next to him and Ian during the ceremony had been a perfect distance to secretly indulge in that omnipresent zing of awareness that shallowed her breathing. But, horrifically, she’d been up on that stage on display, too, with a whole group of nosy, albeit well-meaning, friends—not to mention the entire nosy, albeit well-meaning, town—watching her closely. She couldn’t very well have let her curiosity about Drew show then. Nightmare.
Now, though, she wanted to really study him. To see him. To figure out what it was that tangled her up in unfamiliar feelings of shyness and doubt, that left her distracted, disconcerted, dreaming, distraught.
How had he managed to crack her protective shell, when no other man had in all these years? No one since…Randy.
I’m not ready for this.
I’ll never be ready for this.
She smacked a lock of hair out of her face.
She’d pegged Drew as shy when they’d met in the hospital, but perhaps she’d been wrong. Sure, he hadn’t injected himself into Troublesome Gulch “society,” such as it was, but he seemed at ease now. The light breeze fluttered his shirt, outlining his lean torso for a moment before the air shifted, teasing the fabric away from his body. Lexy’s chest tightened.
He stood, just in front of Ian, shaking hands and conversing jovially with one of the cops and a couple of paramedics. As he spoke, his hand drifted back and touched Ian’s head, as if making sure he was there—absentminded affection, a daddy’s instinctual protection.
Damn. Lexy melted. Such a sweet gesture, really. A long sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it. Seriously, was there anything sexier in the world than a devoted father?
And when had she started thinking that way?
As if knowing she needed a distraction, Ian crept up to the table and, with a single guilty glance flickered toward his daddy, grabbed a second piece of cake. He was so intent on getting that corner piece, Ian didn’t see her. But her eyes tightened with worry as she watched him.
The ceremony had been stimulation enough. Now, after copious doses of sugar and sunshine, Ian looked so wound up, even Lexy could sense an impending meltdown. If he didn’t get a nap and some decent food in his belly, not necessarily in that order, the storm was imminent.
He was three bites into his second piece of cake, the hero medal around his neck glinting in the sun as he spun around like little kids hyped on sugar often do. His expression, while animated enough, was tinged with exhaustion, his eyes doggedly glazed. Part of her yearned to call out to him, ask how he was feeling, settle him down on her lap, but she was in no position, nor had she any right, to mother anyone. Another part wanted to alert Drew, in case he hadn’t noticed. Not her place.
Instead, she forced herself to keep her nose out of it and know it would be fine. Fine, fine, fine. She wasn’t Ian’s watcher and didn’t even want to start down that mental track. That way lay danger, the kind she couldn’t bear to touch. They’d probably leave soon, the grand hero adventure would be over and all the town residents would return to their regularly scheduled lives.
Including her.
Including Drew.
As well it should be.
But, for today…she yearned to be near them. Nearer than she’d managed. Drew and Ian had held full court with most of the Gulch’s residents throughout the reception. She’d hardly had any time alone with them.
She stopped just short of a pout, because she wasn’t exactly inserting herself into the mix, but it was a combination of relief and letdown to think that this whole stupid fantasy was ending. She was fully aware of how fickle that made her sound. Still…so anticlimactic. Then again, what had she expected?
She pondered the question.
Truth? She wanted more. More…what? More time?
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
This sucked. She simply wasn’t used to feeling so off-kilter. She was the steady one in her circle of friends, dammit. Ask any of them. But there were parts of her life that set her apart, no getting around it. She’d adapted to them just fine, but she’d never considered…romance. She’d never had to come clean about the wounds of her past, because most everyone in the Gulch already knew.
And even if that wasn’t an issue, other obstacles stood in her way. She had plenty of friends with spinal cord injuries who had healthy, loving relationships. But what experience did she have? A high-school romance and the pall of what she’d done hanging over her head? Not a very strong bedrock on which to build anything.
Which is why she remained alone.
Alone was best.
And then Drew had come along and filled her head with crazy thoughts.
Drew was laughing in that deep, rumbling tone she’d begun to recognize in a crowd, when he did a double take toward Ian. The boy was in midreach for cake slice number three, mouth still full of the final bite of piece two.
“Hey, hey. Enough cake, pal.” Drew’s biceps bulged as he scooped Ian up, just as the boy licked the last bit of frosting off his tiny thumb.
Ian was adorable. Lexy was kind of stuck on Drew’s biceps, though. Her throat tightened on a swallow. As an athlete herself, she appreciated a well-toned body. Clearly the man used his own gym. But that wasn’t the problem here.
She knew a lot of men with great physiques, and none of them affected her like Drew had. So…what was it? She was honest enough to admit she was attracted to this man. Like a woman is to a man. She just didn’t know how to make it go away, because she sure as hell didn’t plan on pursuing it.
“Let’s get some real food in your tummy and a nap before I live to regret it,” Drew said to his son.
Great minds think alike. Lexy snickered softly, and Drew turned and cocked an eyebrow at her.
She shook her head, lifted the sunglasses to the top of her head. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s nothing. I’d just thought the same thing—food and downtime in short order, or else—”
“Meltdown?”
“Exactly.”
“You have good kid instincts,” he said. They shared a conspiratorial smile that held just a little longer than necessary. Changed into something that made Lexy’s pulse tick at her throat. No, no, no. This attraction couldn’t possibly be mutual. That would kill her.
Maybe it was just her overactive imagination.
Thanks, Yvette.
A sniffle dragged them back to the matter at hand: Ian, overstimulated, oversugared, over-tired and really just a little boy at the end of the day. His chin quivered.
“Daddy, I don’t wanna leave. Everybody’s here. I’m havin’ fun.”
“I know, pal,” Drew said gently, cradling the boy’s cheek against his shoulder. “But it’s past lunchtime.”
“I ate.”
“The cake doesn’t count. Might as w
ell have injected you with pure cane sugar.”
Ian’s bottom lip sucked in and out, as if he were about to bust into sobs. Drew chucked his chin. “Hey now, you’re the hero here. Superman doesn’t cry, right?”
“R-right.” Ian visibly tried to rein it in.
“How about we go out for lunch?”
“Where?”
Drew pressed his lips into a line, clearly thinking.
“I don’t know if you’ve been there, but the Pinecone’s got a great lunch menu,” Lexy suggested, gesturing to the far end of the square. “I mean, if you’re looking for options. I’m sure they’d love to have a real live hero dining there.”
Ian tucked his head deeper into his father’s shoulder. “I won’t go unless Miss Lexy comes with us,” he muttered.
Lexy’s heart jumped. She didn’t want to look too eager, but lunch with the two of them would be the perfect opportunity for some explainable alone time with Drew. To figure out this unsettling emotional onslaught and release it, once and for all.
Drew rested his cheek on his son’s head, rocking him gently. His gaze met Lexy’s, and he smiled softly. “Here’s a tip for the future of your success with girls, kiddo. You can’t demand that a lady eat with you. You have to invite her politely.”
Ian raised his head. “Miss Lexy? Come to lunch.”
Lexy and Drew laughed. “Good start for now. We’ll work on your delivery when you’re a little older,” Drew told him. He glanced at Lexy. “Don’t feel obligated, but we’d love to have you.”
Was it her imagination, or had his voice gone husky on that last part? Her lips opened. Nothing emerged.
“Our treat,” Drew quickly added. “As a token of our gratitude for all your help.”
Ah. A payback lunch. Okay, fair enough. That seemed safe. Better, actually. A little of the spark dimmed inside her, but she was the one determined to fight this attraction. She bestowed as serene a smile as she could. “I’d love to come along.” She flicked a glance toward the courthouse lot. “Can I meet you there? I’d like to drive over and park a little closer.”
Lexy’s Little Matchmaker Page 7