Small-Town Cinderella. Stacy Connelly

to Debbie’s own well-rounded, blond-haired, blue-eyed mother, the warmth and kindness of the words surrounded Debbie like one of her mother’s vanilla-scented hugs. “Thank you, Vanessa. That means a lot to me.”

      “And, if I do say so myself, my son is not such a bad catch, either.”

      Tipping her head back with a laugh, Debbie couldn’t help but agree, and not just because she was talking to Drew’s mother. “You’re absolutely right. Drew is a good man. One of the best, which makes him a wonderful friend.”

      But not the man for her. Drew was as grounded and stable as the houses he built. Not at all the type to rush headlong into adventure and excitement. Worse, Debbie thought as pinpricks of heat stabbed at her, he had known her for her entire life. He’d probably be able to recall every fashion disaster, every bad hair day, every extra pound that haunted her past. She wanted a man who would look at her and see her now, as the strong, confident woman Vanessa described and not as the chubby, awkward girl she’d once been.

      Debbie glanced over her shoulder at Drew, knowing right where he was standing even while pretending not to. Her breath caught as their gazes met and held. He wasn’t looking at her like he was remembering her fashion disaster/bad hair days. If she didn’t know better—

      A flush started at her painted toes and made a slow, sensual climb. If she didn’t know better she might have thought he was looking at her the same way a dieting man always looked at her buns—her sugar-glazed cinnamon buns, that was—like he wanted to devour her and not stop until they were both satisfied. But that was crazy, wasn’t it?

      After all, this was Drew she was thinking about. Even-keel, think-things-through Drew Pirelli. He wasn’t the kind of man to devour desserts. More the type to savor a meal, to take things slow and—

      How exactly is this helping? she demanded of herself even as she tore her gaze away.

      “Well, it’s not unheard of for friendship to turn to something more,” Vanessa remarked. “If you keep an open heart, you never know what might happen.”

      The echo of the words Drew had spoken the other night spurred Debbie into action. This was not happening. After asking Vanessa to excuse her, she grabbed a glass of champagne on her way across the floral-patterned carpet. If she decided to have some kind of reckless affair—and she had to admit, that was way more talk than action on her part so far—she had the right kind of man in mind. That was not Drew Pirelli.

      Drew was the kind of man a woman committed to wholeheartedly and for her entire life. Debbie wasn’t ready for that. Just the thought sent a suffocating panic pressing down on her chest. She was ready for fun. So no matter how great of a guy Drew was, and he was the greatest, he was her friend. And the sooner they got back on friendly terms, the...safer she would feel.

      And how’s that kind of thinking fit a daring woman out for reckless affair?

      Ignoring the mocking voice in her head, Debbie smiled as she reached Drew’s side. It was what she called her Bonnie’s Best smile, the one she’d put on for her mother all those years ago to show Bonnie she could focus entirely on her own health because her daughter was doing just fine. The same smile she’d used to greet neighbors and friends when they asked about her mother’s health and later when they inquired about Debbie in the weeks and months after Bonnie’s death.

      Doing just fine! Thanks so much for asking.

      The smile had gotten her through much tougher times than a sudden and inappropriate infatuation with Drew Pirelli.

      Pointing her champagne flute at him, Debbie spoke before Drew had the chance. “I have a bone to pick with you!” Her smile felt a little less forced as she went on the offensive. The teasing, confrontational tone was just right for their relationship. It was as comfortable and familiar as Drew himself, and only their surroundings at the posh hotel ballroom kept her from giving a lighthearted pop on the shoulder. “You cost me fifty bucks.”

      His dark brows rose, and he met her mock anger with a smile. But was there something different there? Something other than his usual, almost patronizing expression? He waited, biding his time, until she reached his side. His breath teased the bare skin of her neck as he leaned close and asked, “How did I do that?”

      Debbie fought off a shiver threatening to shake her down to her shoes. “The bet, remember? I thought for sure you would be the next Pirelli to fall and yet Sam’s already engaged. How the heck did that happen?”

      He frowned as if seriously weighing her words. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

      His espresso eyes challenged her, and Debbie’s confidence started to tremble right along with her suddenly weak knees. Swallowing, she countered, “More like I don’t know Sam. After all, he’s the one who got engaged when I never thought he would.”

      “And I’m the one who’s still single. Maybe I’m not as settled as you seem to think.”

      If anyone was unsettled, Debbie decided, it was definitely her. She should walk away now, while she still could, while she still had any hope of getting back on equal footing with Drew again. But that was ridiculous because she did know him. She knew him well enough to realize he was messing with her, giving her a hard time, same as always. She was the one who was overreacting thanks to her foolish decision to give voice to her fantasies. She was the one who’d let the crazy thoughts out, and it was going to be up to her to put them back where they belonged.

      “Come on, Drew. Tell me you don’t see yourself married with a couple of kids.” A look of admission flashed in his eyes, and Debbie pressed her point. Nodding in Nick and Darcy’s direction, she said, “Tell me you don’t want that.”

      He glanced over at the happy couple, who were busy staring into each other’s eyes. “Sure, I do,” he agreed readily enough for Debbie to think she’d been right all along about him playing her. “Someday. But there’s something else I want right now.”

      She didn’t realize what Drew meant until he took the slim flute from her, set it aside on a nearby table and pulled her onto the dance floor. Her hand rose automatically to rest on his shoulder and her feet quickly found the rhythm of the slow, romantic ballad. It was hardly the first time she and Drew had danced together, and as he pulled her closer, she caught scent of his cologne. The woody fragrance with its hint of cedar was the same brand he’d worn for years—a yearly Christmas gift from his sister. Sophia knew her brother wouldn’t bother to buy something he’d consider unnecessary. Debbie knew it, too. She knew Drew. He was as comforting and familiar as the smell of his cologne, except—

      The trip in her pulse as he spun her beneath the crystal chandelier wasn’t the slow, steady pace of comfort, and she found no familiarity in the tingle of goose bumps chasing across her chest when her breasts brushed the starched front of Drew’s tuxedo shirt. His eyes darkened—whether as a result of the intimate contact or in reaction to her own, Debbie didn’t know, but there was no denying the heat in his gaze.

      The rush of unexpected and unwanted desire took Debbie back to her teenage years and her helpless, overwhelming crush on Drew. To the unrequited longing mixed with the heartbreaking knowledge that he would never see her as anything more than his kid sister’s friend. A part of her, that small part that had never lost hope even in the most hopeless of situations, longed to believe everything she was seeing in Drew’s expression, longed to believe that maybe, just maybe, he did view her as more than the girl next door.

      A decade-old memory drifted through her thoughts. The door to the bakery had been open, letting in the warm summer air and allowing the scents of fresh-baked breads and muffins to drift out onto the sidewalk, to lure tourists and locals inside. Standing behind the counter, she’d caught sight of Drew through the front window. He’d been away at college, but her pulse had taken that same familiar leap as if he’d never been gone a day. He’d smiled at her as he’d stepped inside and the warmth in his gaze had threatened to reach inside and pull her heart straight from her chest.

      She’d cut her hair since she’d seen him last, straightening the life out of the