Bachelor Games in Good Hope Read online

  Bachelor Games in Good Hope

  Cindy Kirk

  Copyright © Cynthia Rutledge 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9781701890503

  Chapter One

  Clay Chapin strode into Book & Cup, the small bookstore he liked to frequent on the edge of Good Hope’s business district. When his girlfriend, Stella Bryant, texted she absolutely must meet him at four, he’d paused before responding.

  With Stella insisting on meeting so early, Clay had been forced to scramble. As he made every effort to keep his personal and professional lives separate, he didn’t want her stopping by the school where he was the principal.

  He briefly considered meeting her at Muddy Boots or Blooms Bake Shop, but even in early May, those shops would be hopping. Whatever Stella had to say must be important and likely required some privacy.

  Book & Cup had gotten the nod. The place was close to his work and never seemed to do much business. Clay often stopped here after the school day ended. He’d grab a coffee, find a table in the back and pull out his laptop.

  Every three or four visits, he’d buy a book to take home with him.

  The bells over the door jingled as he pushed it open. Beatrice Appleton sat on a stool behind the counter, a cup of coffee in front of her and an open book in her hands. Last year, when owner Judy Koontz had grown weary of running the bookstore, Bea had assumed the day-to-day management duties.

  Bea had attended Good Hope High with Clay’s younger sister, Greer. As Greer and Bea hadn’t run in the same social circle, and Bea had graduated early, Clay’s memories of her during those years were hazy at best.

  Today, Bea’s mass of light brown hair was pulled back in a messy twist. Her graphic tee showed a stack of books and proclaimed “My Weekend Is All Booked.”

  Clay smiled. He liked this tee almost as much as the one she’d worn the last time he’d stopped in: “If I can’t take my book, I’m not going.”

  She glanced up from the large leather-bound tome. Her dark eyebrows lifted. “This is a pleasant surprise. You never stop by on a Thursday.”

  Because he was meeting Stella, who likely wouldn’t see the charm of the shop, Clay made his smile extra warm.

  “My girlfriend, Stella, will be stopping by around four.” Clay jerked his head toward the back of the shop. “If you could send her back to my table when she arrives, I’d appreciate it.”

  Curiosity flickered in Bea’s blue eyes, but he knew she wouldn’t dig. “Sure. No problem.”

  As always, Bea’s calm demeanor soothed and steadied. Clay liked that she didn’t seem to feel the need to fill every second with aimless chatter. If he asked about a book or a series, she’d give her opinion.

  They also talked about current events. Clay found her extremely knowledgeable on a wide range of topics.

  “Want coffee?” Bea’s expression turned speculative. “Blueberry muffin is today’s featured flavor.”

  “You know how I look forward to my jolt of caffeine.” He rubbed his chin and pretended to ponder the option. “Is the blueberry any good?”

  “It’s a book club favorite.”

  “Then you might start seeing me on Thursdays.”

  “I’ll get you a cup.” She favored him with a quick smile that lit up her face. “I’ll send your girlfriend back as soon as she arrives.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Clay made his way to his favorite spot at the back of the store. He wished he knew what was up with Stella.

  The urgent need to meet was definitely a puzzle. Clay placed his laptop on the familiar scarred wooden table situated between Science-Fiction and Horror.

  He’d barely settled in when he caught the enticing scent of blueberries. He glanced up to see Bea approaching, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand.

  “You looked like you could use this. I already added the cream.” She set the cup carefully on the table. Her lips quirked. “We’re fresh out of whiskey.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll make do.”

  The fact that Bea didn’t hurry off told Clay customers were in short supply today. Not totally true, he reminded himself. On his way in, he’d held the door open for a group of ten to twelve ladies exiting the store.

  Clay offered Bea a persuasive smile, knowing Stella wouldn’t show for at least another fifteen minutes. “Join me?”

  She hesitated. “You’re meeting someone, remember?”

  “You can keep me company while I wait.”

  She considered his offer, then sat.

  Clay settled back in his chair, wrapping his fingers around the ceramic mug. He wore what he thought of as his school uniform—gray dress pants, a cotton shirt that buttoned up the front and a tie.

  The kids loved his novelty ties. This morning, Harry Potter had gotten the nod. Though the dress code at school was decidedly casual, Clay had grown up with a father who wore a suit to work every day and felt underdressed without a tie. Silly ones had quickly become his thing.

  Bea cocked her head. “What did you think of the Gladwell book?”

  “Blink made me think. I’m glad you suggested it.” Clay sipped the coffee and found he liked the taste. He’d been surprised when Bea had handed him a copy of Blink. The book hadn’t been on his radar when it was originally released in 2005. As he’d read it, Clay realized the content was still relevant today. “Though I’m having difficulty with Gladwell’s assertion that intuition beats out our rational brain, the premise is intriguing.”

  They spent the next ten minutes discussing the book and Gladwell’s suppositions. As always, Bea’s comments challenged him, and the discussion turned spirited.

  She sat across from him at the table, her blue eyes appearing violet in the light from the store’s vintage fixtures.

  It was at moments like these that he wondered how he could have only vague memories of her during his high school years. Especially since he remembered her twin sister, Brittany, so vividly.

  Yes, it was odd, he thought, gazing across the table as she made a stabbing gesture with one finger to make a point, that he’d never noticed her. He liked the way her eyes sparkled when she pressed a point.

  The jingle of bells over the door had Bea shoving back the chair with a clatter and springing to her feet. “That’s probably your girlfriend.”

  “Or a customer,” he murmured to her retreating back. He glanced at the clock on his laptop. It was still too early for Stella to make an appearance.

  Shifting his gaze to the screen, Clay focused on the proposed additional safety measures the district could implement before the start of the next school year. In his mind, student safety was paramount.

  He was deep in the middle of an article on best practices when the next jingle of bells barely registered. Seconds later, Stella’s husky, confident voice shattered his concentration. Closing the laptop, Clay pushed back his chair and stood.

  Stella stepped out between two stacks of books.

  “You found me,” he teased, then leaned over and brushed her cherry-red mouth with his lips.

  “Trust me. It wasn’t difficult.” She chuckled, but two lines formed between her brows as she surveyed her surroundings. “This seems an odd place to meet.”
r />   “It sounded as if you wanted to speak privately.” Clay gestured to the chair across the table. “This is about as private as it gets when meeting in public.”

  Stella cocked her head as if listening for voices or movement. “I believe you and I are the only customers. I don’t know how this place stays in business.”

  Clay had wondered that, too, on more than one occasion. “You look lovely today. Is that dress new?”

  Stella had a closet full of clothes. Which Clay figured was to be expected, considering she worked in a clothing store.

  “It is.” Her lips curved as she took a seat. “Thank you for noticing.”

  Clay sat across from her. Leaning slightly forward, he gave her his full attention. “What’s up with the sudden need to meet? I admit I’m intrigued.”

  Her chestnut-brown eyes settled on him.

  “When we met, I misjudged you. That’s on me.” She puffed her cheeks, blew out a breath. “I once had high hopes for our relationship.”

  “Had?” Clay took her hand, playing with her fingers. “Not anymore?”

  She slipped her hand from his and sat back. “That’s why I’m here.”

  The fact that she didn’t offer him a teasing smile had unease slithering up Clay’s spine. Still, he kept his tone light. “Now I’m seriously intrigued.”

  Stella moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

  “Why don’t you start by telling me one thing that’s turned out differently than you hoped?” Clay kept his gaze firmly fixed on her expressive face.

  “Well, when we first started dating, I thought we’d go out more.”

  Whatever he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t this. He and Stella usually spent both Friday and Saturday nights together. Sundays were reserved for family. Though he always invited Stella to go with him to church and family dinner, she refused more often than not.

  “We go out every weekend,” he reminded her.

  “I meant to nice places. Last weekend, you said you were taking me out for a special dinner. I was super excited. I bought a new dress.” A tiny smile hovered at the corners of her lips as if she was recalling her anticipation. Then her eyes went flat. “You took me to Egg Harbor.”

  “Mexican food is a favorite of yours. Everyone knows Sombreros has the best Mexican food on the peninsula.” Clay adopted a teasing tone. “You adore their pomegranate margaritas. I remember how upset you were when they took them off the menu. I’d heard they were back on and thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

  “It was a nice surprise,” Stella grudgingly admitted. “But I thought, I hoped, you were taking me somewhere a bit more upscale, like that Asian fusion place in Green Bay. I’ve told you numerous times I want to go there and see for myself if the buzz is warranted. Remember?”

  Now that Stella mentioned it, Clay did recall those conversations. “The new place. The one on North Broadway.”

  “Yes.” Her gaze remained firmly focused on his face. “It’s been getting rave reviews.”

  “Apparently, the hype is well deserved. Wyatt and Greer ate there last week.”

  Stella’s lips lifted in a tight smile. “Of course they did.”

  He wished she’d made it clear that going there was a big deal to her. And he wished he’d done a better job of listening. But he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going on with Stella went far beyond him not taking her to a new restaurant.

  Clay felt like he was up to bat. The problem was, he wasn’t sure of the rules. Heck, he didn’t even know the game. He cleared his throat. “I’m having difficulty figuring out the point you’re trying to make.”

  “Over Valentine’s Day, your brother took his wife to Paris.” Stella’s tone held a wistful quality. “Your sister is going to Tahiti for her honeymoon.”

  All true, Clay thought, still having trouble making a connection. From her expression, he sensed she wouldn’t make him wait long before clarifying.

  “Why don’t you and I go to Paris? Or Tahiti?” She gave a little laugh. “Heck, at this point I’d settle for San Francisco or New York City.”

  Clay cocked his head. Was that what this was about? She’d been bitten by the travel bug and wanted them to see the sights together?

  He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “You know it’s difficult for me to get away when school is in session. But the semester is winding down. My summer is pretty booked, but I’m sure I can fit in at least a quick trip to Chicago.”

  Stella sighed. “You just don’t get it.”

  Clay thought he’d hit a home run, but the edge in her voice told him he’d struck out. He glugged lukewarm coffee, wishing for whiskey. “Enlighten me.”

  He considered himself an easygoing guy, but he didn’t much care for game-playing. That’s exactly how this felt.

  “I remember the day you strolled into my shop looking for a gift for your mother. Right away, I liked what I saw.”

  Wary now, Clay merely inclined his head.

  “I asked my co-worker who you were, and she told me you were one of the Chapins, the family who owns the banks.” She hesitated. “I admit I was surprised to later discover your sister is the one with her fingers in the banking pie.”

  Clay shifted in his seat.

  “I like you, Clay.” Stella’s expression turned earnest. “I like your smile and how you’re always happy and upbeat. Plus, you’re seriously hot.”

  The last comment had him chuckling. This was good, Clay told himself. Whatever was going on, the air must have needed cleansing. Every couple had difficult times. Was this the watershed moment that would lead to a deeper intimacy between them?

  Bring it on, he thought.

  “In addition to your hotness, your privileged background is a point in your favor.”

  Okay, he could live with that. Just like he could live with the fact that her initial attraction was because she thought he was hot. Clay couldn’t help but smile.

  Appearing nonplussed, she gazed at him. “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “The way I see it, a person is the sum of their parts.” Clay smiled. “My family heritage is part of the whole.”

  Relief washed over her pretty face. “I thought you’d be angry.”

  “I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough with me to be honest.” He resisted, barely, the urge to reach across the scarred tabletop that separated them and once again take her hand.

  Clay could tell this conversation was important to her. He wanted to encourage more of this openness, rather than shut it down.

  Too many times in the months they’d been together, physical intimacy, whether a touch, a kiss, or more, had taken the place of honest communication.

  He thought of Bea and their brief chat about Gladwell. Honest dialogue was a way to build true intimacy. Clay resolved to make more of an effort in that direction.

  “…my parents’ lifestyle.”

  Clay realized with chagrin that while his mind had been wandering, she’d been talking.

  So much for keeping the communication channels open.

  He cleared his throat. “What does your parents’ lifestyle have to do with our relationship?”

  Though he’d kept his tone easy, her dark eyes flashed. Like a bird with her feathers ruffled, Stella drew herself up and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “I was about to explain.”

  Because he felt bad for not listening, Clay didn’t point out that her tendency to get easily riled stifled, rather than encouraged, honest dialogue.

  “My parents like to camp.” She spoke without preamble.

  Clay brightened. “I love to camp.”

  Stella muttered something under her breath. “Their idea of a perfect vacation is a fishing trip to Canada.”

  “We could go there this summer.” Clay made no effort to curb his enthusiasm. “I know the perfect spot. It’s—”

  Stella held up a hand, cutting him off. She closed her eyes for a second, breathed out. �
��My parents are satisfied with yearly fishing trips to Canada and hosting backyard barbecues. That’s fine. For them. Me, I prefer more exotic locations and activities.”

  When she hesitated, he offered an encouraging smile.

  “Let me just say, I have zero interest in staying in a cabin or a tent. Even less in holding a fishing pole or baiting a hook.” She brushed a strand of hair back from her face, then leaned forward. “I want to experience the best the world has to offer. I want to stay in luxury hotel suites. I want to dine in the best restaurants. Based on your background, I assumed the love of the finer things in life was something we shared.”

  One beat of silence. Then two.

  “Why are you telling me this?” He gave her the benefit of the doubt, because he didn’t want to assume.

  “I don’t believe we’re on the same page.” Stella blew out a breath, shifted in her seat. “I’m not sure we ever were.”

  “I enjoy spending time with you,” Clay told her.

  A ghost of a smile lifted her lips. “We’ve had some fun times.”

  “We have,” he agreed.

  “Unfortunately, the kind of life we each ultimately want is very different.” Sadness skittered across her face, then vanished as she squared her shoulders. “After considerable thought, I feel it’s best that we don’t see each other anymore.”

  Clay studied the face of the beautiful woman who’d captivated him all those months ago. Stella had a certain type of man in mind for herself.

  That man wasn’t him.

  He also had a certain type of woman in mind for himself. One who understood that his passion wasn’t traveling the world and staying at five-star resorts, but educating young minds.

  A woman who embraced simple pleasures as well as the finer things in life.

  That woman wasn’t Stella.

  “You’re right.” Clay pushed back his chair and stood. “It’s best we go our separate ways.”

  When she rose with that easy grace he’d always admired, Clay extended his hand. “I hope you know I appreciate your honesty. I wish you only the best.”

  Stella’s fingers lingered on his for a heartbeat longer than necessary before she withdrew her hand. She cocked her head, and puzzlement filled her eyes. “You don’t seem upset. I thought you’d be upset.”