Small-Town Cinderella. Stacy Connelly

activities, and I worked in the bakery every spare second I had. A few hours before school and then from the minute I got out until close.”

      She’d never bought that dress. Had never attended that homecoming dance or any other dance in high school. The bakery became Debbie’s life the way it had always been her mother’s before that.

      “It was all I could do.... I couldn’t make her better, but I could make the cupcakes,” she concluded with a watery laugh.

      Shaking off the sorrows of the past, she protested, “This is not the conversation for a bachelorette party! Here I’m talking about wanting to have fun, and yet I’m the one bringing everyone down.”

      “You aren’t. I think what you did was amazing, and I know a little of what you went through,” Darcy confided.

      Debbie knew her friend had lost her mother a few years ago. It was that loss that had prompted Darcy to move to her mother’s hometown and open the beauty shop the two of them had always dreamed of owning. Darcy had shared that with Debbie not long after they met, and yet she hadn’t thought to confide in her friend about her own past, despite what the two of them had in common. Was it like Sophia said, and Debbie simply expected everyone to already know her life story, or was there more to it?

      Saving that thought for another time, Debbie said, “Thank you, but it didn’t feel like much. Still, I knew how much the bakery meant to my mom, and I did all I could to keep the doors open so she could concentrate on getting better. And for a while, she did. The cancer went into remission for a few years before it came back, but the second time there was no fighting it.”

      And after her mother had passed away, it was just Debbie and the bakery. Working long hours to numb the sense of loss and to slowly accept the bakery now was her future. The dreams she’d had in high school of attending culinary school and becoming a chef had slipped way as she’d kneaded dough and rolled out cookies and decorated cupcakes. But somehow, as those hours turned into days and weeks and years, a minor miracle had taken place.

      The reputation of the small-town shop had grown.

      Business had increased thanks to Debbie establishing an online presence. Now her loyal customers didn’t have to wait for their yearly trip to the tourist town to order her desserts. They could cater to their craving for something sweet with a few clicks of a mouse, and Debbie could ship her cookies and cheesecakes straight to their door.

      She’d even gained the attention of Just Desserts magazine. The article had praised her double-chocolate cake and strawberry-filled vanilla cupcakes. As pleased as she was with the recognition, Debbie couldn’t help feeling like, well, a fraud. Those were her mother’s recipes, and Bonnie should have been the one to bask in the glow of the reporter’s praise.

      But the article, along with the increase in business, had inspired Debbie to hire on more help. Over the years, she’d frequently paid local teens to run the front register. But Kayla Walker, a young mother who’d moved to Clearville with her boyfriend after she’d inherited a house from her late grandfather, was the first employee Debbie had trained to do the actual baking.

      Thanks to Kayla, Debbie now had the chance to expand the menu a bit. To offer her mother’s tried-and-true recipes as well as some not-so-vanilla recipes of her own. And with the rush of engagements lately, she was also getting the opportunity to shift her attention from everyday cupcakes and muffins to once-in-a-lifetime wedding cakes.

      Working with the bride and groom to find the perfect flavor and filling combinations was a challenge she enjoyed. And then there was the decorating—the literal icing on the cake. The creativity and artistry of building the multiple layers, of designing the perfect flowers and ribbons and scrollwork... She loved every step of the detailed work.

      And while she might be a complete flop when it came to love and romance, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a believer in other couples’ happily ever afters. Her friends were all proof that loves of a lifetime did exist, and while Debbie couldn’t be more pleased, she wasn’t looking to join them.

      For the first time in nearly a decade, she had time. Time to think, to breathe, to hang up her apron and have some fun. And if her mother’s death had taught her anything, it was that life was short, and Debbie was determined to make the most of it.

      “So maybe that’s why I’m not looking to settle down,” she concluded. “I’ve been too settled already, too serious and dedicated throughout what should have been the best years of my life. I know the three of you have found the guys of your dreams, and I’m happy for you all, but that’s just not what I’m looking for.”

      “Debbie wants Mr. Excitement,” Sophia said with a wink.

      “Mr. Mysterious,” Darcy seconded.

      “Here’s to finding Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome,” Kara added.

      Still feeling a little ridiculous for spelling out her dream man to her friends, Debbie lifted her glass. “I will definitely drink to that.”

      Draining the last of her margarita, she admitted finding an exciting and mysterious man was only half the wish. Finding a man who thought she was exciting and mysterious...now, that would be a fantasy come true.

      * * *

      Drew Pirelli was not a man given to eavesdropping. Living in Clearville his whole life, he was very familiar with its grapevine and the wildfire spread of small-town gossip. He preferred to mind his own business with the somewhat vain hope others would do the same. Neither was he the type to spy on his sister and future sisters-in-law.

      If he’d known drinks at the bar and grill were part of the plan for Darcy’s bachelorette party, he would have stayed away. Far away. But he’d been somewhat out of the Pirelli family loop recently, something his parents had commented on more than once. He’d used work as a handy excuse, and he was busy running his construction company, but that was only part of the reason why he’d avoided family gatherings recently.

      How was it, he wondered, that he was the last unattached Pirelli sibling?

      Ever since the custom-home side of his business had taken off, Drew had started each project with his own future family in mind. He pictured his wife and family gathered together in the kitchen. His kids watching television or playing games in the den. The woman he loved welcoming him to bed in the spacious master suite.

      And yet at the end of each project, he turned the keys over to some other man who would live with his wife and children in the house Drew had painstakingly built.

      The nagging dissatisfaction of giving away a piece of himself in each of his houses had convinced him to start building his own place. But that had created another frustration. His attention to detail, the dream of making a house into his home, had helped Drew cement his reputation as one of the most sought-after contractors in Northern California. Because of that, he was having trouble finding time to work on his own project while managing the custom-home business as well as the rental cabins he was currently building for Jarrett Deeks.

      Not that it was all bad. Professionally, he was as rock solid as the houses he built. On a personal level, though, he couldn’t seem to find his footing.

      And that was the real reason he’d been keeping his distance from his family. He was tired of being the third, fifth, heck, even the ninth wheel, depending on how many of his relatives showed up.

      Which was how he’d ended up completely out of the loop when it came to Darcy’s bachelorette party.

      When he’d first recognized the female voices coming from the other side of the half wall separating the two rows of booths, he’d slid across the padded seat, ready to slip away unnoticed. Though no expert at bachelorette parties, he knew enough to realize guys weren’t allowed.

      But before he could push to his feet, the words drifting over from the other side of the booth nailed him to the spot.

      I wouldn’t be opposed to having a red-hot fling with a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll