at a place in my life where I have time to look for a little adventure and excitement.”
“And romance?” Darcy chimed in slyly.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to having, oh, say...a red-hot fling.” Debbie took another sip of her margarita, the salty, tart combination making her taste buds tingle while the alcohol warmed her to her subject. “With a guy who’s dark and mysterious and exciting, who’ll ride into town and sweep me off my feet. Someone who’ll take me completely by surprise and keep me on my toes.”
“Now you’re talking,” the gorgeous redhead said with a grin.
“Excuse me?” Kara protested, using a look her friends had dubbed her “professor glare.” “Need I remind you that you’re getting married this weekend?”
Lifting up her hands in an innocent gesture she couldn’t quite pull off while still holding her martini glass, the bride-to-be retorted, “All the more reason to live vicariously through Debbie’s escapades. So tell us more about this mystery man.”
Feeling heat rush to her face, Debbie set aside her margarita. “Well, I can tell you one thing. I’m certainly not going to find him here,” she said wryly.
“At the bar?” Kara asked.
“Not here at the bar. Not here in Clearville.” A quick glance around their section of the restaurant confirmed what Debbie already expected.
She knew every single guy in the place. More than that, even; she’d known them all for years. If she thought back, she could picture any number of their embarrassing, awkward moments that were part and parcel of growing up in a small town.
Billy Cummings, the sheriff’s son, had gone on a football kick after seeing his first professional game and had worn a miniature helmet 24/7 for weeks on end. Mark Thompson had had the biggest crush on their freshman English teacher, and his brother, Bruce, swore the garage band he was in would make it big even though none of the members could actually play an instrument. Then there was Darrell Nelson and the cruel pranks he used to play, bullying anyone who was smaller and weaker than he was.
She remembered it all, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she was well aware they remembered all the awkward growing pains she’d gone through, too.
Mystery? Romance? Excitement?
Not a chance, she thought with a sigh.
“Look, just forget everything I said. This is what happens when a milk-and-cookies girl starts hitting the tequila and lime,” she joked, hoping her friends would be as willing to laugh off her comments.
She should have known she wouldn’t be so lucky.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting some romance in your life,” Kara told her.
At first, Debbie had wondered about the quietly serious college professor marrying Sophia’s fun-loving, outgoing brother Sam. But over the past few weeks, Debbie had gotten to know Kara and to see the warm heart behind the classy blonde’s cool exterior.
“And I highly recommend having a gorgeous guy sweep you off your feet.” Darcy grinned. “But why are you totally discounting the whole Clearville male population? I speak from personal experience when I say my guy is anything but boring.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Kara said as she lifted her glass of chardonnay to tap against Darcy’s appletini.
Their smiles shone with newfound love, though Debbie had a hard time picturing Nick and Sam Pirelli as romantic, sweep-a-girl-off-her-feet types. They’d always been more like big brothers to her—sometimes sweet, sometimes annoying, always overprotective big brothers.
That was something Sophia as the youngest Pirelli and only girl could certainly understand. After exchanging a look with her friend, Debbie argued, “It’s different for the two of you. Neither of you grew up here, so to you, Clearville guys are mysterious and exciting. But for me, these are the guys I’ve known forever. The boys next door. No mystery, no excitement, no sparks.”
All that was bad enough. Worse was knowing the male population of the town viewed her the same way. The girl next door. The buddy, the pal, the friend whose shoulder they cried on when the popular, pretty girls turned them down.
She winced at the memory when she thought of the name that had followed her since her days at Redwood Elementary School, thanks in part to the bakery her mother owned and the sweets that had filled her lunches and helped fill out her waistline. She’d never been “little” anything, and while she’d known the nickname was mostly a lighthearted tease, it had hurt all the same.
Now she was the owner of Bonnie’s Bakery, and the years of taking care of her mother after she’d fallen ill and spending all her free time at the bakery had toughened her like overkneaded dough. Her feelings weren’t so easily injured anymore, though she’d suffered a setback thanks to her last boyfriend.
She and Robert Watkins had dated casually for several months earlier in the year, and things had finally started to get serious over the summer. Serious enough for them to sleep together.
Debbie still wasn’t sure which was worse, the pain of heartbreak or the pain of humiliation as she remembered that fateful weekend, and how he’d picked the very next day to tell her he thought they’d be better off just being friends.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the breakup hadn’t dragged her back to her high school insecurities. To being every guy’s friend, the buddy they could talk to about the prettier, more popular girls they liked. She thought she’d gotten over that. She was over it. But Debbie couldn’t pretend the split with Robert hadn’t brought back a lot of bad memories.
Memories she was determined to overcome. She was woman enough to have confidence in herself, to know what she wanted and to go after it.
“I’m not sure you’re giving these guys enough credit,” Darcy argued. “There are some nice men around here who’d be thrilled to know you’re looking for a boyfriend.” Her eyes lit suddenly. “What about Jarrett Deeks? He and Nick have gotten to be friends working together at Jarrett’s horse rescue. We could set up a double date if you want.”
Debbie cringed slightly at the thought. “No, thank you, Darcy. I’m sure Jarrett’s great and all, but a double date isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Her friend’s brow furrowed. “But if you’re looking for a relationship—”
“I’m not,” she interrupted. “Not really.”
“A not-really relationship?” Kara echoed.
“I’m not looking for anything that serious.” Debbie stabbed her straw at the ice cubes lingering at the bottom of her glass. “I just want to have some fun.” Leaning back against the padded booth, she said, “I feel like I missed out on so much growing up, you know?”
“Actually, we don’t.” Kara leaned forward, her expression open and interested. “You talk a lot without saying much about yourself.”
Debbie blinked, startled by her friend’s comment. “I don’t do that...do I?” She knew she liked to talk, and the more nervous she became, the more she said—often without saying much at all. But she didn’t like to think she fell into that pattern even with her friends.
