Small-Town Cinderella. Stacy Connelly

really was? Anticipation hammered through her veins until she’d caught sight of the tall, leggy brunette on Drew’s arm.

      Debbie had kept her smile firmly in place as he introduced her to the girlfriend he’d met at school. She asked all the appropriate questions, showed just the right amount of friendly interest until the moment the couple said goodbye. As the two of them walked out of the shop, Debbie had heard the other girl teasingly ask if she was one of Drew’s ex-girlfriends.

      Nah, that’s just Debbie.

      She could still feel the ache of a broken heart as her dreams of Drew being her boyfriend slipped from her fingers and into the gorgeous brunette’s hands. But she’d wised up after that, too, forcing herself to get over her pointless crush. She didn’t want to be “just Debbie,” and she refused to follow the vain hope that Drew might see her any other way.

      Lifting her chin, she met his gaze head on. “If this is wedding fever, you should know I’m immune.”

      “Wedding fever?”

      “You know,” she answered. “Sympathy pains brought on by too much contact with the crazy-in-love bride and groom.”

      “I wouldn’t call anything I’m feeling right now pain.”

      Debbie stumbled slightly at his words only to have Drew pull her even tighter against his chest. How many times had she dreamed of a moment like this? A moment when Drew would hold her close and finally, finally claim her mouth with his own? If he kissed her now—

      Oh, if he did, Debbie had no doubt she’d fall for him all over again, wrapping herself in foolish hopes and dreams that had no place in the real world. Gazing up into his eyes beneath the chandelier’s glittering lights, the promise of the longed for kiss made the risk almost, almost seem worth it....

      Fortunately, the song came to an end, giving her the excuse to step back and take a sanity-saving breath. “That’s the fever talking. You’re delirious, but don’t worry, it won’t last.”

      “Debbie—”

      “I need to check if Darcy needs anything. Bridesmaid’s duty and all.”

      Quickly slipping away, Debbie ducked between the guests gathered along the edges of the dance floor, but she didn’t stop to look for the bride amid the crowd. She escaped through the first doorway she found. The sound of music and laughter faded as she stepped out onto a secluded balcony overlooking the historic bed-and-breakfast’s manicured grounds. The cool, ocean-scented night air touched her warm cheeks, and as Debbie gazed up at the night sky, she couldn’t help thinking all the stars she’d wished upon for all those years were laughing down at her now.

      As her mother had often warned her... “Be careful what you wish for,” she whispered.

      * * *

      Drew quickly lost sight of Debbie as she darted out the French doors at the back of the ballroom. Forcing himself to let her go, he headed over to the bar and ordered a beer. He clenched the cold bottle in his hand and took a long swallow of the malty brew. She had every reason to run away from him, and he had no right to go after her until he figured out what the hell was going on.

      Was Debbie right? Was he suffering from some kind of wedding fever? The explanation made as much sense as anything he could come up with to justify why he was suddenly tempted to throw caution aside when he was with her. Which was crazy, since reason had always trumped emotion in every hand he’d ever played. His head always ruled his heart. How many times had his last girlfriend, Angie, told him to stop thinking and start feeling whenever the inevitable “where is this relationship going?” talk came up?

      He’d tried telling her how he felt—he found her attractive, he enjoyed spending time with her, their common interests made a good foundation for a relationship—but none of those explanations satisfied her. She’d wanted something more...just like Debbie did.

      He’d overheard the words from her himself. Debbie wanted adventure, excitement, mystery—not a guy she’d known her whole life.

      You’re as grounded as a man can be and still manage to move both feet.

      The memory of the accusation she’d made at his sister’s wedding grated on his nerves, and he didn’t even know why. The truth was, he prided himself on making solid decisions, on not rushing into situations without being able to predict the outcome. If he crossed the line from friendship to something more with Debbie, he had no idea where that might lead.

      Yet knowing all that hadn’t stopped him from asking her to dance, or from wanting more than a dance....

      She was right about one thing. If their names ended up linked by the local grapevine, assumptions would immediately be made.

      Drew snorted. With the rate his siblings were getting hitched, his parents would be sending out wedding invitations within a week.

      He hadn’t missed the little conversation between his mother and Debbie earlier. He could only hope his mother had been a little more subtle than she’d been after the rehearsal dinner a few nights before. A dinner he’d attended alone. He’d made excuses about work and the custom house he was building keeping him too busy for a relationship, but his mother had quickly called him out on it.

      “Do you think I haven’t noticed how many family dinners you’ve missed recently?” she’d demanded. And then softer, she questioned, “And do you think I don’t know the real reason why?”

      Okay, so maybe he had been feeling like the odd man out, but he wasn’t about to admit that to his mother. “I’ve been busy. That’s the only reason.”

      His mother sighed, giving him the look that could still make him feel like he was six years old. “I have to say, I never thought you would be the child I would have to worry about.”

      Drew winced in memory.

      His mother would love nothing more than to see him settle down.

      All the more reason not to follow Debbie out onto the secluded balcony. He almost had himself convinced when he spotted her shawl draped across the back of the chair she’d abandoned. Leaving the half-finished bottle of beer at the bar, he crossed the room to the table that had been reserved for the wedding party. And just as he’d been unable to stop himself from pulling her onto the dance floor, he reached for the softly woven shawl. The scent of her perfume, a mix of spicy and sweet that perfectly captured Debbie’s personality, drifted over him. Pulling him in when he knew he should be walking away.

      As he moved toward the balcony doors, he was stopped several times along the way by friends and neighbors. He took their ribbing about being the only unattached Pirelli with good humor even if the phrase “last man standing” was already getting old. He knew it would get worse after Sam’s wedding. Still, he pushed the thought aside. He was a man on a mission, out to find a certain bridesmaid.

      She turned as he opened the door, her arms crossed tightly to ward off the night air. For Drew, the chill was a relief after the ballroom’s crowded interior. But it wasn’t exactly a cold shower, and not nearly cold enough to keep his body from heating when he noticed the swell of flesh above her dress’s neckline.

      All brides were supposed to be beautiful, and Darcy was undeniably gorgeous. But it was Debbie who had knocked the breath from Drew’s lungs when he’d caught sight of her walking down the aisle.

      He should have been better prepared, seeing her now, but maybe he hadn’t recovered from that first blow. Her blond hair was caught to one side, her golden curls tumbling over her shoulder. The bridesmaids’ gowns reflected Darcy’s taste, and Debbie looked amazing in the halter-style burgundy dress. Tiny beads highlighted the bodice, and the rich fabric fell to the tops of her strappy sandals with a slit in the side guaranteed to blow his mind with revealing flashes of her shapely calf and thigh.

      Her blue eyes gazed at him warily. “Drew...”

      He heard the protest in her voice and held up the shawl. “I thought you might be cold out here.”

      “Oh.”