Always My Hero (28 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Decuir

BOOK: Always My Hero
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Before they could be on their way, he had to admit to calling her mother in a panic and alerting her to Bree’s vigilante mission. Her only reaction was to roll her eyes and sigh as she dug her own cell phone out to reassure her mother that she was just fine. As she spoke to her mom, her eyes never left Ryan. She looked ... amused. He sure as hell didn’t get what could be funny about this situation.

“I’m not ready to share you with anyone,” Ryan admitted as they returned to Bree’s car, parked in the visitor lot at the police station.

“We could get some dinner.” She dug her keys from her purse and dropped them in his palm.

“I was thinking more along the lines of getting a hotel for the night.” He prayed she wouldn’t see this as him taking advantage of the situation.

“Perfect. We need to talk.” Her smile was tentative, shy.

They’d swung through a fast food joint on the way to the hotel, but neither of them was very hungry and they threw most of their burger and fries away.

Tossing the key card onto the nearest night table, Ryan wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. There were only a few times that he’d been this nervous. The championship game against Gorham for the state title. When he knowingly married a woman he did not love. And the day Wesley was born—from the moment Haley went into labor until the time he got to hold his son in his arms and know that he was healthy and perfect in every way. So yeah, it’d been a while.

“Hmm, no mini bar.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh as he took a quick look around the room.

“Being alone with me makes you want to consume large quantities of alcohol?” The amused grin returned to her lips.

“Okay, seriously? You aren’t just a tad uncomfortable? I mean, I thought we came here to discuss the baby? Our baby.” Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, stood up just as quickly and stalked to the loveseat by the window.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to joke. It’s just that I’ve had a lot more time to process this.” Bree slid onto the cushion next to him and reached for his hand, her floral perfume swirling around them both.

“How did you even live?” He turned to her, his grief so close to the surface that he was afraid it would choke him.

She watched him closely, her eyes narrowed, whether in anger or speculation, he couldn’t be certain.

“Just so I’m clear, which version are we going with? Mine or Haley’s? Because I swear I would never end a life, especially one conceived in love, like our baby was.”

“I told you I couldn’t believe her. I meant that. It was just a lot of shit to take in and I handled it badly. I should never have tried to process it alone.”

“I can tell you, from experience, that is definitely not a healthy thing,” she agreed.

“It killed me to think of you having to deal with it all on your own. To know you didn’t feel you had a choice in coming to me about the miscarriage. But when I came back to town, couldn’t you have told me then?”

Summoning the courage to look up, his heart broke. Gone was the mischievous smile from earlier, replaced with hurt. Her eyes were lined with pain and he could see her revisiting the stinging memories in her head like it had happened yesterday.

“This. This is why.” Bree reached up to cup his cheek, her fingers soft and warm against his skin. “How you look right now. Knowing what you must feel.” Her hand moved to his chest, right above his rapidly beating heart.

“I tried to protect you from the truth. I
knew
how it felt. I knew how it shaped my entire life and I didn’t want that for you. But I was wrong to make that decision for you. You deserved to know the truth. I was working up the courage to tell you. Haley just beat me to it. Well ... sort of.”

“About that. How the hell did she ever find out?”

Bree groaned, raising her eyes to the ceiling for a moment before responding.

“I knew I needed to tell you. But you have to understand that this is something I’ve kept to myself all my life. Even my mother doesn’t know.”

Whoa. She really
had
been alone in this.

“So I stepped out of my comfort zone and met Cady and Quinn at Smitty’s for drinks. I figured if I could practice opening up, telling someone, then I could tell you.”

“It wasn’t me, though ... that made the opening up part hard?” He hated sounding so unsure, but he had to know.

“You made it, um, distracting.” She looked down through her lashes at their hands that had linked together again in her lap.

“I love you. And I love our little angel in Heaven. And because I’ve been doing a piss-poor job of showing it, I want you to understand right now that I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you are loved and cherished.”

“You’re trying so hard and I appreciate that,” Bree said but her slight frown told him he was still being unclear.

Ryan smacked a hand to his forehead. He was still doing it. There was only one way to make things perfectly clear. It was time. He shifted off the couch and knelt before Bree. He dug around in his pants pocket, felt a moment of panic then the butterflies subsided as his fingers wrapped around his grandmother’s engagement ring.

“Bree Adams, I can’t erase the last thirteen years, nor I am told should I want to. But if you’ll have me, I will make the next fifty or sixty the best years of your life. Will you marry me?”

“Is this what Wesley wants too?” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she waited for his answer before she gave him one of her own.

“Wes, my mom, my dad, and probably everyone in Scallop Shores, as well.” He beamed.

“Then, yes, of course I’ll marry you.” Bree pulled him back up onto the couch and kissed the socks off him.

Ryan debated calling their families again, but decided it would be more fun seeing their reactions in person the following morning. Again he lamented the fact that there was no mini bar in their room, though this time because they had no champagne with which to celebrate, not to soothe his nerves.

“You and that danged mini bar. There are other ways to celebrate, you know.”

Bree stood up from the couch, crossed to the window where she pulled the drapes shut and slowly made her way to the bed, discarding clothing as she went. Stretching out in the middle of the comforter, she blew him a kiss and crooked a finger, beckoning him to join her. Forget champagne! He liked this idea better. A whole lot better!

EPILOGUE

The Men of Scallop Shores calendar was back from the printer and officially on sale to the public! Bree arranged a party at the library, refusing to allow Cady to cater it because her best friend deserved to be a guest and not the hired help for this special evening. Besides, this night called for champagne, and Cady wasn’t licensed to serve alcohol. The stack of calendars on the circulation desk grew smaller and smaller as the night wore on. It looked like her first foray into fundraising was a success.

Dressed in a little black sheath that she’d bought just for the occasion and heels that emphasized her toned calves, Bree was feeling confident and proud. She’d pulled it off. She had put herself out there and the world had not come to an end.

She’d had the models from the calendar form a receiving line as guests first began to enter the library. Now that the party was in full swing, everyone was mingling. The guys were under no obligation to dress up for the party, but she was pleased to see that each one had worn a suit and tie. Later in the evening, they would adjourn to the conference room, where space had been set up for the gentlemen to sign calendars, should they be asked. And by the looks they were receiving already, Bree knew they would most definitely be asked.

“You throw a hell of a party, sweetheart.” Ryan flagged a passing caterer and relieved him of two flutes of bubbly, handing one to Bree.

“I’m glad you think so, because we have an amazing wedding to plan.” Her smile was as brilliant as the ring she’d worn for a few weeks now.

“I am up for absolutely anything—as long as I get to keep my shirt on.” He winked.

“Are you sure? Because I was thinking a beach-themed wedding. You and all the ushers in Speedos?” She couldn’t hold back the giggles as Ryan quickly paled.

“Hey, did you tell your beautiful fiancée the good news yet?” Mr. Stevens, the principal at Scallop Shores High, approached the couple, holding hands with his wife.

“He did indeed. He’s been acting like an excited school boy since yesterday.” Bree smiled warmly at the principal.

Since Ryan didn’t have the necessary credentials to qualify as a Phys Ed teacher, the school had given that job to someone else. However, they couldn’t deny that he was the best candidate to coach the football team. So they had split the position into two and hired Ryan to take the Wildcats all the way to State.

Now that Pettridge’s Hardware Store was back in family hands, Ryan seemed more than happy to take over running it. His mom would spot him during practices and their customers would just have to wait until Ryan and his muscles got back if they wanted something heavy lifted.

Bree smiled to herself as she recalled that for the last few weeks, Bo had insisted on visiting the store on a daily basis. He’d sit in his chair, in the office, working on getting his grip back by picking up the items on his desk. And sometimes he’d just snooze. Hey, it was his store. He could do what he pleased.

Wesley split his time after school between the hardware store and the library. If it was his day at the hardware store, Bree would have dinner waiting when they got home. If he was at the library, it was Ryan’s turn to cook. They cleaned up as a family, because it got the job done faster and they just plain enjoyed being together. Bree overheard Ryan speaking to Wesley one night as he tucked the boy in.

“I need you to understand something, Wes. The hardware store is your legacy. It will be yours someday. But it shouldn’t define what you choose to do with your life. You are a smart kid, and I know you’re going to do incredible things. Find what you love the most and go after it with everything you’ve got.”

“But, Dad, you’re running the hardware store and you said you don’t love it.”

“The store doesn’t define me, son. It’s only one small part of who I am. I love football. I pursued that dream to the best of my ability. I love Bree and I love you. I’m making us a family and that is everything I need to make my life whole.”

The day he let the accounting firm know he would not be back, the family celebrated. And when he’d put his condo on the market, they took Wesley out for ice cream. It was like waking up to Christmas morning every day, and that was something Bree could really get used to.

Slipping away from Ryan, Bree took a small sip of champagne and then gazed around the room. All these people were here to support her fundraising efforts. She’d come a long way in a short few months and each person that had a part in her transformation was in the library tonight. She was a lucky woman.

A few members of the board had taken up position in front of the stairs leading to the children’s library. Harold held a plate full of hors d’oeuvres, noshing on a flaky wrapped pastry as Bree approached. She was greeted with broad smiles and pats on the back and shoulder. Yep, she was one lucky woman.

“Well, if it isn’t the head of our fundraising department!” Harold said in a booming voice.

“We don’t have a fundraising department,” she pointed out.

“The board voted on it just this evening, as a matter of fact. Well, most of the board. It would have been a conflict of interest to have you vote on your new position, wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, that would be one of her new positions,” Martha laughed.

“Yes, yes. Head of the fundraising department and newest member of the library board. Congratulations, you’re going to be a very busy woman, Ms. Adams.” Harold puffed out his chest, jostling the rest of the food on his plate.

Bree blinked, looking from one face to another, trying to see if she was being pranked. Aside from looking very pleased, no one appeared to be joking around.

“First order of business, if you don’t mind my bringing up business during a party ... ?” Harold paused.

She nodded, waiting to see where this was leading.

“We need to replace the computers at each station. They are going the way of the dinosaur, and it’s better to get new ones before they just plain go kaput.”

“And, naturally, it isn’t in the budget to buy new ones this year,” Bree finished for him.

“Naturally. So what would you suggest as a fundraising strategy to get the library its much needed new computers?”

Bree smiled mischievously. Her eyes darted about the room, and the makings of a terrific idea began to form.

“Well, the calendar was a great idea. But what if we could top that? What if we did a bachelor auction?”

She may have snagged one of the hottest single guys in Scallop Shores, but there were plenty more left. Tapping her chin, she spotted Foster in the corner of the room. Not too far from him, shy Lucas and artfully tattooed Doyle spoke with a group of senior women from Kittredge Manor. Ah, and there was Riley, her prickly veteran who was more of a teddy bear than he cared to admit. Yes, she could definitely have fun with this new project. The Bachelors of Scallop Shores. Someone for everyone. Bree swallowed the rest of her champagne and went in search of another glass. After all, it
was
her party.

More from This Author

(From
Trapped in Tourist Town
by Jennifer DeCuir)

“I’ll tell ya what’s worse than them stupid geese dressed up in people clothes—” Old Man Feeney jabbed a gnarled finger in the air, waggling it around for effect. “Those plywood cutouts Margie Nixon stuck in her yard of the ladies bent over showing off their bloomers. Downright scandalous!”

Gritting her teeth and glancing around the bakery, Cady did a quick inventory to make sure her customers didn’t need an immediate refill of their coffee. She reached under the counter and withdrew an empty jar, setting it on the Formica with a thunk. That garnered a couple of bored looks from several of her elderly customers but they quickly went back to their discussion.

She rummaged through a basket under the cash register and came up with a marker and some Scotch tape. Smiling, she neatly wrote: Cady’s NY Dream Fund. Taping the label to the jar, she slid the container toward her regulars sitting at the counter. “There you go, boys. Tip jar. Fill ’er up.” She winked at Old Man Feeney.

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