The Boss's Bride (The Heart of Main Street) Read online

  “I’m a klutz.” She unwrapped her burger.

  Patrick’s hand reached for hers, his fingers closing over hers with a strong but tender touch. “I’ll pray.”

  “Please do.” She didn’t mean to make it sound as if she needed prayer. “For the food. I mean for the food.”

  He leaned close and prayed, “Amen. And, Gracie, calm down.”

  She looked up, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. “I’m trying.”

  “I’m sorry about the kiss. I know I shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s really okay.” But he was right. She couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. It had happened and now they had to move on and find their way back to who they really were. He was her boss. She needed her job and couldn’t let that one kiss come between them.

  “No, it isn’t. You work for me. I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

  “I let you cross the line.” She smiled as she said it, hoping to ease the tension. It was a strange tension, lingering between them like a wire pulled tight and then flicked to make it buzz.

  A guitar string. Her thoughts did a strange rambling thing when she was nervous, going in all directions but where they needed to go.

  Patrick’s big hand still held hers. He lifted it and kissed her knuckles. “It’s okay.”

  Yeah, it was okay, unless he kept doing overly sweet things like kissing her hand, like bringing her dinner and looking at her the way he did. Because he made her feel as if she was perfect the way she was, even in old jeans and a T-shirt with paint in her hair.

  “I know. I know that I made the right decision.” She looked up, a French fry in her hand. “Why haven’t you ever been married? You’d make a great husband.”

  “Is that a proposal?”

  They both laughed. “No, I think I’m probably not ready for a proposal. But I wonder, because usually women say that all the good men are taken. And you’re one of the good ones, but you’re not taken.”

  He sighed, exhaling slowly, and she knew she’d just dug past the surface of Patrick Fogerty. He let her hand go, placing it gently on the table.

  “Gracie, my name is Patrick Fogerty and I’m a workaholic.” He smiled as he said it but Gracie saw the pain in his eyes and knew it wasn’t a joke. “I know that sounds a little dramatic, but that’s who I am and one of the reasons I came here. Being a workaholic can be as damaging to a person as any other addiction, I guess. It’s bad for your health. It’s pretty hard on relationships. People you love suffer from neglect.”

  “Patrick, I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be. It isn’t as if I don’t know some of your secrets. I did find you in your wedding dress.”

  “Very true. I guess that alone entitles me to at least one of your secrets.”

  “Okay, I was the one jilted. I dated a woman named Geena. And Geena married my best friend. I think because she saw him more than she saw me.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She deserved a lot better than I gave her.”

  He stood up, tossed the wrappers and paper plate into the trash and smiled down at her. She craned her head to look up at him. “And I’m getting a lot better at slowing down and making time for people.”

  “Sometimes the hard things happen so that God can bring the good things.”

  He continued to watch her and she got up, needing to avoid that look and the feelings that accompanied it. She tossed her papers into the trash and rinsed her hands off at the sink.

  “I think that’s probably true.” He stood, moving to the middle of the kitchen and looking around. “I’m in Bygones because I saw myself becoming my dad.”

  Gracie waited but he didn’t give her more than that and she wasn’t going to push.

  “I say we get started.” Patrick headed for the front door. “I have the supplies in the truck.”

  “Let me get shoes.”

  “I can get the supplies. I’ll be right back.”

  Gracie watched him walk across the yard to his truck. She had five minutes to get her act together, to stop seeing him as a man who needed to be fixed. To stop seeing him as a man who could heal her very damaged heart.

  Chapter Nine

  “One more section.” Patrick watched as Gracie measured the tiles and arranged them. He smiled down at her because she wasn’t watching, so intent was she on her project. Her mouth was pressed in a firm line, her bottom lip between her teeth. “You should take a deep breath and roll your shoulders to relax.”

  She looked up, her dark eyes focusing on his face. He bent his legs and squatted next to her. “Gracie, relax.”

  “I’m relaxed. I’m just concentrating.”

  “You look as wound up as an eight-day clock.”

  She laughed a little and took his advice, rolling her shoulders and then moving her head from side to side to relieve the kinks that had to be tightening her neck muscles.

  “There, better?” she asked as she once again bent her head over her project.

  “Oh, sure, of course.” He reached for her hand. “Come on, you’ve got it all done. Let’s put those tiles up.”

  He stood and brought her to her feet with him. She leaned again to pick up the squares of tile, placing them on the counter in the order they should go on the wall.

  “So, the first house we’ll paint starting Tuesday evening?” She handed him the squares and he put them on the wall, adjusting them only slightly from her original design.

  “Yes.” He looked down at her as he placed another tile. “And we’ve got quite a bit of help. Whitney Leigh is a great one to get involved because she knows how to get people signed up.”

  “She is good at that.”

  “You’re still upset over the article about your wedding.”

  She shrugged slim shoulders. “Not really. I do like Whitney. I haven’t enjoyed everyone in town discussing my life like it was, um, yesterday’s news.”

  She smiled at him but he could see that it still hurt.

  “Gracie, the other day when Trent was at the store… Are the two of you trying to work things out?”

  She shook her head. “No, not at all.”

  But he had to wonder if she wanted to work things out. She’d never revealed why the wedding was called off. He didn’t see her as a flighty woman who suddenly changed her mind for no reason. Even cold feet, his early assumption, didn’t seem to fit.

  “There, all done.” He placed the last square and they stood back, side by side, looking at a job well done. “I can help you paint. Sunday after church if that works for you.”

  “You don’t have to. Really, I can do it.”

  “I know you can do it.” He also knew when to back off. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. When he turned, she was picking up the odds and ends they’d left scattered around the kitchen. She had a box and she filled it with tools, leftover tiles and other supplies he’d dragged in.

  “I really owe you for this.” She finished cleaning up and joined him at the sink to wash her hands. “And it’s so much cozier than just painting the walls. I love it.”

  “Good, then it was worth it. And you saved me from an evening of endless matchmaking.” He dried his hands and handed her the towel. “Part of which you were responsible for.”

  She turned a little bit pink. “Sorry about that. But really, there are some nice women in Bygones and you’re quite a catch.”

  “Am I really?” He watched her try to find a way out of the situation and he had to clamp down to keep from grinning. “What makes me such a catch?”

  “First off, you’re a horrible person who likes to get a woman cornered and embarrass her.” She had recovered. “On second thought, maybe you’re a rotten catch.”

  “Try to remember that, please. Be
cause if I was such a good catch…”

  Now he’d gone too far, and the way she looked up at him, it made him want to kiss her again. And he really had to stop kissing Gracie Wilson. No matter how tempting that apple lip gloss she’d worn earlier or the sweet way she laughed.

  He had too much going on in his life to be Gracie’s rebound man. When he did decide to date, he wanted to know that he and the woman had a chance at forever. He had decided he was getting too old for random dating that went nowhere.

  “I should go.” He grabbed the box off the table.

  “Patrick, I really do appreciate the help tonight.”

  “I was glad to do it. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  “Of course.” She walked with him to the door.

  If she’d stayed in the doorway, it would have made things a lot easier for him. Instead she followed him out to the truck. He loaded the box of leftover supplies and turned to find her still next to him. The combination of moonlight, that apple lip gloss and the light scent of floral perfume could be a guy’s undoing, even a guy who had perfectly decent intentions.

  He opened his truck door. She took a step back.

  “See you tomorrow.” She smiled up at him as he got into his truck.

  “You owe me lunch.” He winked as he said it.

  “I’ll pick something up from The Everything.”

  “Perfect. Pizza?”

  “Pizza.”

  He drove home lost in thought. The three blocks turned into two miles as he drove out of town, past the church that was now empty, then around by Bronson Park. He stopped at the remnants of the community garden. Coraline had told him the irrigation system seemed to have sprung a leak. He would have to get that fixed in the next few days. For now the water was turned off. The garden was in the last stages and they’d had plenty of rain.

  Small-town life. He enjoyed it. Everyone knew his name and his business. That was good and bad. But people cared.

  He stopped his truck and leaned back to watch the full moon rise into the sky over a small town, fields of grain and corn, lonely houses stretching into the countryside.

  His new world. The town he’d decided to risk everything for. There were things he was learning about himself in this town. But he still had a long way to go.

  At lunch the next day, Gracie made her rounds. She stopped by the Fluff & Stuff pet store, browsing for more supplies for Rufus, who now lived at The Fixer-Upper with Patrick. She also bought the dog a great ball that could be filled with peanut butter. Chase Rollins was busy with a customer, so she waited until he was free to approach the counter.

  The owner of the Fluff & Stuff smiled at her as she walked up with her arms full of goodies for the dog. She dumped it all and then stretched her arms to relieve the kinks.

  “You know, I have baskets to put stuff in.” Chase, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, smiled his typical stiff smile. She liked him, even if he seemed a little tense at times. Maybe he really was in the witness-

  protection program and that was why he kept so detached. She liked the thought even if she knew how wrong it was.

  “I didn’t plan on getting this much,” she explained, “but I kept seeing stuff Rufus would love.”

  “The stray?” He started ringing up her purchases.

  “Yes. I think he likes Patrick. And Patrick seems to be okay with Rufus.”

  “Rufus, huh? Well, I’m glad he found a home.” Chase told her the price and bagged the items. “I saw the truck dump him at the end of Main, on Granary. I tried to stop them but they took off. That poor dog stood there looking after them, probably wondering how the people who loved him so much could drive off and leave him on the side of the road.”

  “Do you wonder if they ever think about the dog, Chase? It kind of breaks my heart thinking about it. I’m glad he found his way to The Fixer-Upper.”

  “I don’t think they do think about it, Gracie. But he ended up with a good home.”

  “Thanks.” Gracie paid him and reached for the bag. “And the other reason I’m in here is to talk about the end-of-the-month block party. If you have a door prize, or door prizes, I’ll put the list in the Gazette. And we’ll also have a scavenger hunt for the grand prize, a carriage ride.”

  “I’d heard you’d arranged carriage rides.”

  “The money is going to the school.” She glanced at her watch. She was running out of time. “We’re promoting this to other communities. We’re hoping to make it an annual event and include other towns. Each week we’ll promote a different town and what they have to offer.”

  “What a great idea.”

  “I hope it works. We don’t have as much to offer as a big city, but we’re closer and buying local means supporting local schools and emergency services. And now, time for me to run. I still have to stop at a few of the other stores.”

  On her way down the block, she stopped by Allison True’s bookstore but a sign on the door read Back in Fifteen Minutes. She hurried up the sidewalk to the Sweet Dreams Bakery. First she bought a fabulous cupcake and while she ate it she discussed the block party with store owner Melissa Sweeney.

  “Oh, do you want to see a picture of the cake I’m making for Lily’s wedding?” Melissa pulled out a book of photos.

  “Of course.”

  Melissa gave her a cautious look. “Are you sure it isn’t too soon? I’m sorry, sometimes I don’t think.”

  “No, really, it’s okay. I want you to know my cake was beautiful. Not that I got to eat any of it. But I did hear that everyone loved it.”

  Melissa laughed a little and her cheeks turned pink. “It really was good. But promise me the next time you get married you’ll put your foot down and get the cake you want.”

  “Vanilla with white icing. No strawberry jam, no almond extract.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “I’m not planning on getting married anytime soon.” Gracie glanced at the pictures of cakes and let herself dream just a little about a wedding that would be simple, with a groom who wouldn’t break her heart. She swallowed, and when she looked up, Melissa was watching.

  “Not all men break our hearts, Gracie.”

  “Who has a broken heart?” Gracie pointed to a beautiful cake with smooth, white icing and all the while wondered how Melissa had known what she’d been thinking. Was she that transparent? “That’s my next cake.”

  “Perfect for you. And I’m saying you have a broken heart. But for whatever reason, you took the fall and let everyone label you the Runaway Bride. I’m not sure why you did that for him.”

  “Silly, I guess.”

  Melissa pointed to a three-tier cake. “This is Lily’s cake.”

  “I love it.” Gracie tossed her cupcake wrapper in the trash. “Oh, door prizes for the block party.”

  “I’m giving two. I’ll give six cupcakes to each winner.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh, and the day of, I’m letting children decorate miniature cupcakes for free.”

  “I love that. Do I qualify as a child?”

  “No, but I’ll let you have one anyway.”

  “Thanks, Melissa. See you later.” Gracie hurried out the door. Rather than head for the Cozy Cup Café, her next stop, she went down the street and around the corner to The Everything. The shop was just that, everything. The combination convenience store/gas station was a staple to Bygones. And the owners, Elwood and Velma Dill, were real characters. They ran the store wearing tie-dyed T-shirts. There were days both had their longish gray hair in ponytails.

  Gracie hurried into the store, smiling at Velma, who was sitting behind the register reading a romance novel. She looked up, smiling a big smile. Gracie loved Elwood and Velma. They’d always been good to her.

  As a young teen she used to walk down to The E
verything from her dad’s granary. She’d sit with Velma, who would tell her stories about all the places she and Elwood had traveled to and even lived. They had seen the world. They’d fed children in Africa and built homes in South America. And Velma had lost her mother at a young age.

  Velma got the heartache, the constant empty space as milestones were achieved. Alone. Velma had been through some of those milestones with Gracie. Most people in town didn’t know.

  “Hey, sweetie, what has you rushing around town like a crazy person?” Velma put down her book and stood to lean over the counter.

  “I’m making sure you’re in on the block party.”

  Velma smiled at that. “Gracie, that’s why I love you. Some people might forget us old folks with stores that have been here forever, but not you.”

  “The new stores are great, Velma, but you all have made a contribution to this town for years. You’re loyal to the town, and the town is loyal to you.”

  “Well, of course we’ll be involved in the block party. I think the Steins are going to keep their carriage here. They’ll start out, go down Main Street, around the park and back here.”

  “Great. I’ll make sure that’s in the paper and on the map we’re passing out.”

  Velma pulled a pack of chocolates off the rack. “These are for you. I know you love these.”

  Gracie blinked back tears and smiled at her friend. “Velma…”

  They hadn’t talked, not really, since the almost wedding. They had talked the week before. Gracie had gone to Velma with her fears, her concerns.

  “Don’t cry on me. You know I’ll cry with you. Gracie, you did the right thing.”

  “I should have listened to you when we talked. I should have called the wedding off. I just didn’t know how.”

  Velma patted her hand. “Don’t beat yourself up. Someday you’ll find the right man.”

  “I think I’ll take a break from romance.”

  “That’s not such a bad idea, either.” Velma reached for one of the chocolates and popped it into her mouth. After a moment of thoughtful chewing, she smiled. “But I wouldn’t write it off. The right man will make you forget all about Trent Morgan. The right man will help you trust.”