The One for Me

By Ashelyn Drake

She thought he was a conceited jerk who looked down on shy people like her.

He thought she was too intimidating to talk to.

It’s been ten years since Caitlyn Scott and Dean Everett have seen each other. But after Dean’s father passes away, Dean returns to his hometown to be closer to his mother.

Fate throws the two back into each other’s lives, forcing them to discover they have more in common than they’d ever imagined. Can Dean convince Caitlyn he isn’t the guy she thought he was and that he might actually be the one for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashelyn Drake
• Release date: Mar 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463682203

Ashelyn Drake

Ashelyn Drake is a New Adult and Young Adult romance author. While it’s rare for her not to have either a book in hand or her fingers flying across a laptop, she also enjoys spending time with her family. She believes you are never too old to enjoy a good swing set and there’s never a bad time for some dark chocolate.

Book preview

1

Caitlyn

Caitlyn arrived at her mother’s front door at exactly 11:30 a.m. Mrs. Scott hated it when people were early or late. It was one of her biggest pet peeves, and thanks to her, Caitlyn had impeccable timing for everything. She didn’t even get to knock before the door swung open.

Caitlyn, her mother said with a big smile as she assessed Caitlyn’s outfit, which consisted of cream-colored dress pants and a pretty orange sweater that had screamed fall to Caitlyn. When are you going to start wearing dresses?

I wear dresses, Mom, but it’s cold out. Speaking of... She motioned for her mother to let her inside.

Mrs. Scott stepped aside, and Caitlyn kissed her cheek as she walked by her.

The house smells incredible, Caitlyn said, removing her coat in the entryway.

I certainly hope so. I’ve been cooking since six o’clock this morning. Mrs. Scott wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, feigning having broken a sweat.

Caitlyn hung her coat in the hall closet and placed her brown bowler purse on the small table leading to the kitchen. What can I help with? Setting the table? That was usually her job.

Nope. It’s already done, Mrs. Scott said with a shake of her head.

Okay, then I guess I’ll get the hot plates for the food. Caitlyn started for the cabinet containing the hot plates.

That’s done, too.

Caitlyn turned and cocked her head at her mother. What’s going on?

I have no idea what you mean. Mrs. Scott’s tone implied anything but.

You’re up to something, Mom. I can see it in your eyes. Caitlyn circled her pointer finger in the air, gesturing to the mischievous look in her mother’s eyes.

Mrs. Scott laughed. Go pour yourself some wine. I have to check on the turkey. She waved Caitlyn out of the kitchen to the dining room, which Caitlyn immediately noticed was set for four instead of three. Ever since last March, Mrs. Everett, Caitlyn’s mother’s best friend and neighbor, had been eating with them for every holiday and special occasion. Her husband had passed away from a massive heart attack, and since Mrs. Scott knew exactly what it was like to lose her husband to heart failure, she’d taken Mrs. Everett under her wing, so to speak. Mrs. Everett had spent Easter with them and even the Fourth of July.

Mom, Caitlyn called into the kitchen. Who else is coming to dinner?

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Would you get that for me, Caitlyn? I’m busy basting the turkey, Mrs. Scott yelled.

Caitlyn knew her mother had heard her question. Just like she knew her mother was avoiding an answer, but Caitlyn figured the person her mother had invited was now standing on the front porch, so she walked quickly to the door and peered out the etched glass.

You’ve got to be kidding me, she said to herself as she reached for the doorknob.

As soon as she opened the door, Mary Everett smiled at her. Caitlyn, I’m so glad you’re already here. This one’s been asking about you. She jerked her head back to the man standing behind her.

Dean Everett. Caitlyn would have recognized him anywhere. He’d strutted around in high school like he was God’s gift to the world. Always the center of attention. Always followed by a crowd of people. Always smiling. But he wasn’t smiling now. He looked a little bit like he was going to be sick.

Dean, say hello, Mrs. Everett said, jabbing her elbow into his side, nearly knocking the pumpkin pie out of his hands.

Hi, Caitlyn, he said. Long time no see.

Caitlyn merely nodded and reached for the pie. I’ll take that.

I don’t mind. He was reluctant to let go, but Caitlyn gave an assertive tug on the pie box.

I insist. She finally got the box from him after his mother gave him a look. You two can go into the living room and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll put this in the kitchen. She didn’t wait for a response before fleeing the room.

Mrs. Scott removed her apron and draped it over a kitchen chair. When she saw Caitlyn alone, she cocked her head at her. Where are Mary and Dean?

I sent them into the living room, Caitlyn said, opening the refrigerator and searching for a place to put the pie among the countless dishes her mother had prepared. I don’t think you made enough food, Mom.

Very funny. There’s plenty of room for the pie. You just have to juggle a few things. Let me do it. You go entertain our guests. She reached for the pie, but Caitlyn shook her head.

"I’ve got this. You go. Mrs. Everett is your friend, after all." Caitlyn continued to move things around in the refrigerator to avoid her mother’s gaze, which she was sure was trained on the back of her head.

It will be nice for you to catch up with Dean, though. He was always such a good kid.

He’s hardly a kid anymore, Caitlyn said.

Interesting that you noticed. The hint of a smile in her mother’s voice made Caitlyn roll her eyes.

It’s hard not to since we’re the same age. She waved one hand behind her, indicating her mother shouldn’t keep their guests waiting.

You’re impossible sometimes, Caitlyn, Mrs. Scott said with a huff before her shoes clicked against the tile flooring as she exited the kitchen.

Caitlyn wedged the pie on top of a tray of stuffed mushrooms and shut the refrigerator. Her mother expected her to entertain Dean Everett. She had no idea how absurd that notion truly was. Dean had never found a need to interact with Caitlyn. Not when they were standing at the bus stop every morning before school. Not in the halls at school. And not at a single sporting event. Never. She was beneath him. Not worth his time.

Caitlyn, what are you doing in there? You’re being rude to our guests, her mother called from the living room.

Rude. That was a word Caitlyn would use for Dean. He probably thought I wasn’t capable of carrying a pie on my own. I should drop it in his lap later when I help Mom serve dessert. The thought put a smile on her face, but when her mother yelled for her again, it quickly faded. She couldn’t hide in the kitchen all day.

She reluctantly started for the living room, glancing in the dining room on the way, looking for anything that might need to be done so she could avoid Dean.

There you are. It couldn’t have taken you that long to put a pie in the refrigerator. Her mother’s comment made Dean smirk, and Caitlyn wanted to retreat back to her car and straight to her apartment ten minutes away.

What can I say? Someone made way too much food.

Oh, Elaine, you shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble. It’s only us, Mrs. Everett said from her seat in the armchair by the fireplace.

Well, I wasn’t sure what Dean liked to eat, so I made some options. Mrs. Scott smiled at Dean, clearly impressed with how he’d grown up. He hadn’t visited much in the past ten years. He’d left for college, and to Caitlyn’s knowledge, he’d lived in North Carolina ever since.

I eat just about anything, so no need to go to any trouble for me, Dean said, sipping his white wine.

Excuse me, Caitlyn said, retreating to the dining room for a glass of wine herself. She was going to need something to get her through dinner. She took her time pouring a glass and jumped when Dean stepped up behind her.

Would you mind? He held up his empty glass.

The wine bottle slipped from her fingers, and he grabbed it before it fell to the floor.

Whoa. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.

It’s fine. Caitlyn looked down at her hand, dripping with white wine. I’ll just go wash this off. She hurried into the kitchen and ran her hand under the sink. Why did he have to show up here? Why did he come back now? She’d seen him briefly at his father’s funeral, but he hadn’t been back since. At least, she didn’t think he had.

Are you okay?

Caitlyn sighed at the sound of Dean’s voice. Fine. A little spilled wine never hurt anyone. She dried her hands with a paper towel, discarded it, and started for the dining room, but Dean held out a wine glass for her.

Here you go, he said.

She took it and mumbled, Thanks, before fleeing from the room. She gulped down half the wine on her way to the living room, where she forced herself into the small spot between her mother and the arm of the couch. At twenty-eight, she shouldn’t be hiding behind her mother, but she was at a loss for what to do in this situation.

Dean stood by the fireplace, sipping his wine without a care in the world. Neither he nor Caitlyn said a word while their mothers talked. It was like being set up on a play date with someone you had no interest in being seen with. Maybe she could fake an illness and go home early.

So, Caitlyn, how is your new promotion going? Mrs. Everett asked.

Caitlyn jerked her head up. Promotion? she asked, looking at her mother, who had clearly fed Mrs. Everett incorrect information.

Well, I didn’t know what else to call it, Mrs. Scott said. You get to work from home whenever you want.

It’s a remote office, Mom. We all work from home.

Yes, but you went from practically being a secretary to being in charge of your own accounts.

What exactly do you do? Dean asked, finally looking at Caitlyn.

I’m a graphic designer, she said.

She used to work for a design company, but now—

I still work there, Mom. I’m just in charge of my own clients now instead of working alongside another designer.

See, so you were promoted. Her mother smiled.

Well, I guess so, but... Never mind. I think I’ll go check on the turkey.

Her mother waved her hand in the air, dismissing the idea. The turkey is fine. Relax.

Well, we have all those side dishes that need to be put in the oven. I’ll go take care of that so you three can talk. Caitlyn got up and walked to the kitchen as her mother continued to list reasons why she didn’t need to leave the room.

This was going to be the longest dinner of Caitlyn’s life.

Dean, do you have any plans for tomorrow? Mrs. Scott asked after everyone had finished eating. Caitlyn has the day off from work, and I’m sure she’d be happy to show you around, help you get reacquainted with the area and all.

Caitlyn nearly spit her wine across the table. Her mother was meddling as usual. But Caitlyn wasn’t about to let her set her up on a pseudo date with Dean Everett. I actually already have plans tomorrow, Mother. Her tone was even more forceful than she’d intended.

Oh? Mrs. Scott couldn’t have sounded more surprised. Doing what exactly?

Caitlyn scrambled to think of something, anything to get out of spending the day with Dean, but she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly by any definition. I’m... She swallowed hard. I’m going shopping.

On Black Friday? Mrs. Scott asked.

Caitlyn had temporarily forgotten the time-honored craziness of hordes of people shopping at insane hours on the day after Thanksgiving. Yeah. She looked down to avoid her mother’s piercing gaze.

What do you need badly enough to get up at 4:00 a.m. to stand in line for?

Caitlyn let out a small huff and spun the stem of her wine glass, suddenly wishing it was full. What does it matter? I just need something. Mrs. Scott gave Caitlyn her Don’t be rude in front of our guests look, so Caitlyn added, I doubt anyone here would be interested in hearing about my sudden interest in air fryers.

Actually, I was thinking of getting one myself, Dean said with a smirk.

Oh, well that’s perfect. Mrs. Scott clasped her hands in front of her. You two can go together, and then I won’t have to worry about Caitlyn out there on her own with all the crazy shoppers. She reached over and pat Dean’s hand. Dean will look out for you, she said to Caitlyn even though her gaze was focused on Dean. Caitlyn had no doubt her mother was envisioning what their children would look like. Brown hair, brown eyes...

Mom, I’m sure Dean doesn’t want to go shopping on Black Friday. He’d much rather get settled into his new place.

It would be nice if he’d start cooking for himself instead of showing up at my place for every meal, Mary said.

Mom, I thought you liked having me around, Dean protested.

You know I do, but you’re starting to smother me. I like my space. Why do you think I always insisted your father play poker every... Tears filled her eyes and choked her words.

Dean took her hand in his. Do you want me to take you home? It’s getting kind of late.

We haven’t even eaten dessert yet, Mrs. Scott said. Do you have to go so soon, Mary?

Caitlyn stood up and placed her napkin on her plate. I can pack them two doggy bags, she offered.

No, Mary said. I’m fine. No one is leaving just yet. She dabbed her eyes with a napkin and smiled at Dean. You’re a sweet boy, but it’s not your job to worry about me. You should be finding someone to—

Mom, please, Dean said. There’s plenty of time for that.

Still, you shouldn’t have moved back here for me. You should have your own life.

Dean moved back here for his mother? Caitlyn’s mother had mentioned Mary hadn’t been adjusting to life without her husband, but Caitlyn didn’t realize it was that bad. Bad enough for Dean to give up everything he had in North Carolina. Had he left someone behind, too? Was that why he’d been so quick to change the subject a moment ago when Mary had brought up finding someone?

I’ll go put some coffee on, Caitlyn said, needing to give them all space. She wasn’t Mary’s best friend or a blood relative. She didn’t need Caitlyn hovering while she attempted to pull herself together.

Dean wrapped his arms around his mother as Caitlyn stepped out of the room. She’d never seen this side of him before. The loving side. In high school, he’d always seemed so tough, like nothing ever bothered him. But seeing his mother upset had clearly gotten to him.

Caitlyn scooped some French roast coffee into the filter and filled the pot with enough water to brew twelve cups. Just as she