Brenda Minton - The Boss's Bride

He sat down next to her, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. “It isn’t always that easy.”

“No, I guess it isn’t. But it makes people more comfortable if they think you’re fine. If you smile when they ask how you are and tell them you’re great, it makes them happy.” She lifted the cup and took a sip because she was saying too much and no one really wanted to hear it. And she was too embarrassed to tell the whole truth.

She hadn’t been good enough for Trent Morgan. No matter how she dressed up, fixed her hair and did all of the other girl stuff that Trent seemed to think was important, it hadn’t been enough. He’d always been trying to change her, to make her fit the mold of who he wanted her to be.

She held the coffee cup in her hand and thought about how much she wanted to tell someone other than her dad what Trent had done to her, that he’d tried to change her, that he’d cheated on her. He hadn’t loved her enough.

Someday she wanted to be loved enough.

“How about that chili?” Patrick left the seat next to her and she smiled as he opened the fridge door to pull out a bowl.

“I could make something if you don’t want leftovers.”

“I thought we’d agreed that you don’t always have to take care of everyone?”

She started to nod but her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and groaned. “Yes, that’s what we agreed, but I have to take this.” She answered. “What is it, Evan?”

Her younger brother responded, “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“I should, but I’m still in town. What do you need?”

“There’s nothing for supper and you said you’d throw my laundry in for me. I have to go to Oklahoma tomorrow.”

“You can do laundry. I taught you how, remember? And there’s a casserole in the freezer. Preheat the oven to four hundred degrees and bake it for an hour.”

“Seriously? Where are you? Everyone is saying you flipped out Saturday. I’m starting to think they’re right.”

“Maybe I have. And maybe it’s time you learned to take care of yourself.” She wanted to tell him that if he’d bothered showing up for the wedding he wouldn’t have to get secondhand information.

He hung up on her and she didn’t know what to do. The microwave dinged and Patrick pulled a bowl out and set it in front of her.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” He reached into a cabinet and handed her a package of crackers.

“It wasn’t easy.” She took the crackers and the spoon he handed her. “He really can’t take care of himself.”

“I’m sure he can, if he has to.”

“Maybe.” Gracie crunched a few crackers into her chili and leaned in to inhale the lovely aroma. “Do you have family, Patrick?”

“I have an older brother in California. My dad passed away several years ago. My mom remarried and lives in Georgia.”

“I see.” She watched as he moved around the kitchen, a confident man, terribly handsome. She focused, for some reason, on the sleeves of his plaid shirt that he’d rolled up to reveal strong, deeply tanned forearms.

He sat down next to her and she refocused on the bowl of chili.

“My family has a tendency to do their own thing,” he said, handing her a package of shredded cheese.

“Mine like to be very involved in each other’s lives.”

“Isn’t that part of being in a small town?”

She shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know because it’s all I’ve ever known. And taking care of my family is all I’ve ever known.”

His hand settled on hers. “Eat your chili before you go rushing off to rescue your brother.”

She closed her eyes and tried to find a reason why his command, the softness of his voice, would make her want to cry. Maybe it had to do with exhaustion catching up with her? The past six months of planning the wedding had felt like being tied to a race car and dragged around the track with no way to escape.

“It will get better,” his voice continued, smooth and reassuring.

Gracie looked up at him, studying the handsome face, brown eyes the color of coffee with just enough cream. She blinked a few times to clear her thoughts. She somehow convinced herself it was that exhaustion thing again.

“Yes, it’ll get better. But I should go.”

“Of course.” He started to say something but a knock on the door interrupted.

“And you have company.”

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Another perk to living in a small town. Always expect company and usually when you least expect it.” She finished the last bite of chili and carried the bowl to the sink.

Patrick watched her for a brief second and then he answered the repeated knock on the door. Gracie grabbed her purse and keys. When she walked around the corner, Patrick was standing in the doorway. Willa Douglas, single and pretty, stood on the landing with a casserole dish in her hands. Her eyes widened when she saw Gracie.

Gracie smiled at Willa and then at Patrick. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

As Gracie hurried down the stairs, she told herself that what she felt wasn’t disappointment or even jealousy. She’d had enough of men in her life. She definitely wasn’t the type of person to have a rebound relationship just days after ending an engagement.

Patrick Fogerty was a decent man. Maybe even a friend. She liked that idea. He could be her friend. Friendship was easy and uncomplicated. A friend wouldn’t break her heart.

Chapter Four

Early Wednesday morning, Patrick walked down the sidewalk with a steaming cup of coffee from the Cozy Cup Café. He’d been the first customer, and he and Josh Smith had talked shop. Josh needed some repairs to a door that someone had tried to open during the night. Patrick had questions about his store computer. Everything these days was computerized, even the cash register. For a guy that liked to hit a few buttons, have a drawer pop open and be done with it, it was hard to adjust.

The two of them had also talked about the upcoming block party that the store owners were organizing with Gracie’s help. They would have door prizes and other programs to draw in business. But lately the biggest draw was one Gracie Wilson. The Bygones Runaway Bride, as she’d been renamed, was bringing in more business than anyone could have expected.

Who knew that people would be that curious about a woman standing up a man at the altar?

He paused as he crossed Bronson Avenue. Of course, there was no traffic at this early hour. In the distance he heard trucks at the Wilsons’ granary and he could see a car or two coming up Main Street, probably to get something at the Sweet Dreams Bakery. He had considered stopping in but he needed to get down to his store and do some last-minute stocking before he opened the doors.

As he continued down the sidewalk, past the freshly painted brick buildings that the town seemed to be having a hard time accepting, he thought about the conversation he and Josh had just had about the benefactor of the town, the person responsible for funding the face-lift of the downtown area and the money for the new businesses.

The speculation had turned to Robert Randall, owner of the recently closed Randall Manufacturing. Maybe the old guy had felt guilty for what he’d done to the town, closing the plant and all. That had been Patrick’s thought lately.

Patrick sipped the best cup of coffee he’d had in a long time and slowed to look in the store windows. He passed his shop and looked in the window of the Fluff & Stuff pet store. He’d been thinking lately that it would be nice to have a dog. He hadn’t had a pet since his teen years. He’d just been too busy for anything other than himself.

His family hadn’t been pet people, anyway. They’d traveled. They’d worked. His parents had ignored each other.