Matching Mr. Right(29)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Sometimes what Chester wants isn’t always what’s best for him.”

Chester’s Tough Choice

Shelby tucked the covers under her chin and smiled as she stared at the thin lines of sunshine streaking across her bedroom’s ceiling. Nick had called her by her real name last night. It shouldn’t have touched her so deeply but it had. Because in her heart, that’s who she was. Summer Sinclair, not Shelby Marx. If she tried hard enough she could still conjure the sound of her mother’s voice sweetly calling her name.

And then to make things even more confusing, Nick had remembered what she’d worn the first time they’d met. She’d never known a guy who’d paid attention like that.

No other man had ever kissed her like that either. Boy, could Nick kiss! Her lips warmed at the memory.

Wondering what a good time Nick would be in bed wasn’t helping her stay on track.

She needed to forget about Nick and concentrate on a more obtainable goal, like Greg.

Greg knew about her legs, although he’d never seen them. As a doctor, Greg would be used to seeing scars like hers. He’d take them in stride, like Nick had.

Her heart warmed as she recalled how Nick had made her feel whole again, instead of like damaged goods, after he’d seen her ugly legs. But Nick was off-limits. He’d said he’d never marry and have kids. She needed to take him at his word. Just ignore the way the man made her brain go stupid when he kissed her.

Back to Greg.

When she saw Greg at his party tomorrow, she’d invite him to the football game on Sunday. That’d be a good date. He’d been out of the country for two years, so he’d probably enjoy seeing a live game. And it wouldn’t seem like she was actually asking him on a date, more like inviting him to an event because she had extra seats. Yup. That’d be perfect. She didn’t want to scare him off by seeming too pushy. But she needed to push harder to get him to see her as a woman, or she’d never get past first base. How much was too much?

Shelby smashed her spare pillow over her face and screamed into it. Why did men, dating, and kissing have to be so complicated? Although that was probably a good thing because it kept her Cyrano business running.

Thinking of work, she needed to get up and go to the café. She wanted to get some things done before she met with Nick and Beth later.

Would it be awkward seeing Nick again? No. He’d probably already forgotten all about their kiss. Throwing the covers back she slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready.

After she was all ready to roll, she grabbed a to-go cup of coffee and headed out. When Shelby crossed the café’s threshold at 8:30 a.m., Jo threw a starched apron her way. “Charlie, Susan, and Sheila all called in sick. I’ve got help on the way, but it’ll be a bit. Take the register, please.”

Shelby tied the apron around her waist and dove in. There must’ve been thirty people in line. Hopefully they’d all want plain coffee or something easy. She hadn’t run the front counter in a long time.

After a few hours, the line was under control and the proper way to make a mucho-mocha latte had surfaced from the depths of her brain. And thankfully, two of the replacement workers had arrived. One more person and she’d be able to call it quits. How did Jo do it every day?

She slipped a hunk of stray hair behind her ear, then turned to help the next person in line. When she glanced up she spotted Nick a few people away, looking all tall, tantalizing . . . and tasty. Her lips tingled at the memory of their kiss.

Then a slender, gorgeous blonde whispered something in his ear, sending an arrow of reality straight through Shelby’s heart.

Beth.

She was a freaking goddess. The woman should be required to hand out sunglasses to shield the unknowing victim’s eyes from the beauty that radiated from her glowing, perfect skin. She wore a tailored navy suit jacket with a short skirt that highlighted her mile-long, unblemished legs, and a silky blouse that left no question that God had been good to her in the breast department. And her shoes? They were to die for. Tall, strappy, and sexy.

Compared to that, Shelby probably looked like the last day-old donut left under the glass dome in a greasy-spoon diner.

Thankfully, Shelby’s replacement arrived, putting an end to her pity party, so she gladly handed over her apron, “Thanks, Gina. Have a good day.”

When she leaned down to retrieve her purse, a pair of male arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning her hands to her side, and then he lifted her off of her feet.

She called out, “Hey!” What the heck?

Shelby saw Nick push Beth aside before he started toward the register.