by Beth Ciotta
“I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“You sure don’t have much furniture,” Mina said while spinning in the center of the living room.
“Not yet,” Harper said. “You can sit in that red chair if you want. It’s pretty comfy.”
“Okay.” Mina set her bear on the chair and her pack on the floor then peeled off her scarf, gloves and coat. They landed in messy puddle.
Normally Sam would have told her to pick them up, but he was waiting for a snarky comment from Harper, a roll of the eyes, a disgusted groan. Something. Anything detrimental regarding his daughter. That would sure as hell snuff his attraction to the shallow publicist.
Harper shifted and crossed her arms as Mina dragged the portable mini-DVD player from her Miss Kitty backpack. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked Mina.
“Do you have hot cocoa?”
“No, but I have herbal tea.”
“Chocolate milk?”
“Skim milk.”
Mina wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you.”
Sam suppressed a smile while shrugging out of his jacket.
“Wanna watch a movie with me?” Mina asked.
“I have business upstairs,” Harper said. “A workout and some fancy footwork.”
“Dancing?”
“Something like that.” She eyed the staircase, checked her phone. The woman was itching to make her escape. “Do you like cupcakes?”
“Do I ever!” Mina’s eyes lit.
Sam’s ears perked. “Thought you were a health nut.”
“Health conscious,” Harper corrected. “I used all-natural and low-fat ingredients.”
“You bake?”
“Don’t look so shocked, Rambo.”
“Who’s Rambo?” Mina asked.
“Never mind, honey.” Sam followed Harper into the kitchen, his gaze drawn to the old cookstove she’d used for baking cupcakes. The same cookstove used by Mary Rothwell. An original appliance that had never been replaced. He shook off a weird feeling, eyeing the cupcakes Harper produced from the fridge. “Mina’s allergic to peanuts.”
“No nuts,” Harper said as she took one from the plastic cupcake holder and placed it on a paper plate. “Apple-cinnamon with low-fat buttercream icing. Want to try one?”
“No thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” She whizzed out of the kitchen with the cupcake and an attitude.
Sam dragged a hand through his hair, tempering a raging hard-on. “Shit.” By the time he peeked back into the living room, Harper was gone and Mina was immersed in a movie and her cupcake. He stepped back into the kitchen and nabbed the toolbox he’d left there the day before. He had a list of things Harper had asked him to look into and he had a list of his own. He’d always considered the kitchen the heart of the house and this heart needed mending. He wasn’t surprised when Harper had asked him about restoring the cabinets and counters to a vintage 1940s look. What surprised him was that he instantly visualized a scheme and that they’d easily agreed on style and colors. It was one of the only amicable moments of their short acquaintance.
Considering Sam needed to be home when Frank showed up to service his furnace and considering Mina would be hungry for lunch in a few hours, Sam figured he had three hours ahead of him at most.
Out of nowhere, Rae crossed his thoughts. It bothered him that he was suddenly unclear regarding his feelings for her. And the more he thought about his verbal clash with Luke, the greater his unease. Sam had reacted and spoken in the heat of the moment. He didn’t like being at odds with family and he especially didn’t care for the feeling that he might be in the wrong and that Luke’s feelings for Rae were sincere. He was pretty clear on the fact that Rae was hung up on Luke. He could see it now.
“Hell.”
The moment Sam pushed Rae from his thoughts, Harper was waiting in his mind’s eye. He could name a dozen reasons not to pursue the attraction. Unfortunately none of them snuffed his desire. Anxious to divert his thoughts, Sam immersed himself in basic repairs. The actual carpentry and painting would come later.
Time flew.
He checked on Mina twice, and both times she was lost in a movie. Once she peeked in to ask him for a glass of water and notified him that she still hadn’t seen a ghost (“Drat!”). Other than that she was true to her word. She didn’t bug Harper. She didn’t bug him. She kept herself entertained, which surprised him a little. She’d been so clingy earlier in the day.
Before he knew it ninety minutes had passed and Sam had a question regarding the lighting. He’d probably have to interrupt some phone call or Skype session or whatever Hollywood gossip show Harper was immersed in, but he didn’t want to assume and all he needed was a quick answer.
He smiled at Mina as he passed but she was focused on her DVD player. He scaled the stairs and moved down the hall and into Harper’s room—just as she dropped the bath towel she’d had clutched to her body. A body still glistening with water droplets. She was reaching for the underwear laid out on her bed. A lacy black bra and thong. Oh, yeah. Sam was close enough to make out details. Close enough to smell the remnants of her shampoo. It was a blip of a moment—maybe two seconds max—but the image of Harper’s lush naked body was burned on Sam’s retinas forever.
She sensed him, turned, and gasped. “Don’t you knock?” she asked, clutching her undies over her sexy assets, not that they covered much.
“The door was open.”
“No it wasn’t.”
It wasn’t?
She grappled for the towel and Sam raked his memory. Had he really waltzed into this room like he owned the place?
“How come Miss Day gets to walk around in her birthday suit and I don’t?”
For the love of … Sam turned and ushered his daughter out of the room. “We’ll talk about it later.” He imagined Harper throwing a shoe at his head. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this flustered. Flustered was not in his vocab. At least not until this moment. He couldn’t even remember why he’d come up here in the first place. His brain was scrambling. How was he going to explain to Mina why he was in the bedroom with a naked lady?
While he urged his daughter to pack up her gear, Sam gathered his coat then paused and plucked his Blackberry from his pocket. Knowing Harper’s phone was always nearby, he thumbed an apology.
SORRY ABT THAT.
The response was immediate. NOT AS SORRY AS ME.
LEAVING NOW.
GOOD. WAIT. CUPCAKES IN FRIDGE. TAKE 4 KIDS.
Sam blinked at the message. What the … B BACK L8R 2 CLEAN MESS IN KITCHEN. He waited a heart-pounding three seconds before she texted …
BRING WINE.
TWENTY-THREE
Rae spent the majority of Monday morning and a good part of the afternoon trying not to think about Luke. He’d spent the night with her twice now and she was hooked. The sex was amazing, but it was more than that. She liked falling asleep and waking up in his arms. She liked his company. The conversation—although so far they’d kept it relatively light.
She knew he was itching to know more about her past, specifically regarding her relationship with her mom and Geoffrey. So far Rae had managed to dodge that conversation. It was too personal, too painful, and she was trying very hard to establish her happy place here in Sugar Creek. With Luke. If she didn’t feed the drama, maybe it would fade away. She wasn’t running from it exactly, or maybe she was. All she knew was that she’d given it her best and last shot with her mom. As for Geoffrey, clearly the best course was to heed his threats and to stay silent regarding his transgression. Another reason not to share certain aspects of her life with Luke. She was pretty sure he’d be hot to confront Geoffrey.
In which case Geoffrey Stein, of Stein & Beecham Industries, would use his wealth, power and influence to squash Rae like a bug. Or worse, to ruin the lives of the people she cared about most. Those people, starting with Luke, were right here in Sugar Creek.
“Okay,” Chloe said. “Everyone’s out. Locking the d
oor.”
“Closing the blinds,” Daisy said.
Rae sat tight as the women hurried their daily ritual of closing up their café. She couldn’t help smiling as she noted the eclectic décor. The mismatched antique furniture was charming. Even the salt and paper shakers and napkin holders were mismatched. What tied everything together were the scattered accessories featuring the glory of Vermont’s wildlife—the moose. Embroidered pillows, various clocks and paintings, and assorted chatkas—all featuring a moose in some form or fashion. They’d also created a cartoon logo that was painted on the window and featured on coffee mugs. Rae easily saw why Moose-a-lotta was such a huge draw for locals and tourists alike. Cozy atmosphere, great food, gourmet java, and—something you didn’t find a lot of in these parts—free Wi-Fi access.
Rae sipped her decaf cappuccino, while Chloe and Daisy slipped off their aprons and joined her at her cozy table.
“Spill,” Daisy said.
“Your news, not your coffee,” Chloe said.
“Don’t leave anything out,” Daisy said
“Feels strange talking about a CL project without the rest of the CLs being here,” Rae said. “Especially Rocky.
“We’ll catch everyone up,” Daisy said. “As for Rocky, she’s busy giving my crazy son what for.”
“That’s if she can get a word in over Dev,” Chloe said. “He was fit be tied when he left this morning.”
“Luke was worked up, too,” Rae said. He’d called her when he’d landed in Miami, to let her know he’d arrived safely and to make sure she was okay, but she hadn’t heard from him since.
“Between the three of them and Jayce, they’ll make Jerome see reason,” Daisy said.
“I feel awful for Rocky,” Chloe said. “She’s waited so long for her happy ending with Jayce.”
“They’ll get their happy ending,” Daisy said. “Just like you’ll get your happy ending with Dev as soon as you set a date,” Daisy said.
“Can we not go there?” Chloe asked. “I don’t want to take away from Rocky’s wedding day. As soon as she’s married to Jayce, I’ll settle on a date with Devlin.”
“Chicken shit,” Daisy said.
“I’m not…” Chloe nailed Rae with a desperate gaze. “Would you please share what you learned about the book deal?”
“Sure.” Honestly she’d been dying to tell someone all day, but she’d had a crammed schedule and everyone had been busy with work. But then she’d stopped by Moose-a-lotta for a late-afternoon snack and Chloe and Daisy had begged her to hang out until they’d closed the café.
“I’m sure I’ll know more by the time the club meets on Thursday, but I can at least fill you in on the preliminary discussion.”
“Did he believe you right off when you told him who you are?” Daisy asked. “Or did he ask for some sort of proof?”
“I’m pretty sure he was fact-checking on his computer while we chatted,” Rae said. “You have to admit it’s kind of a tall tale. Why would a socialite, the daughter of a Hollywood celebrity, hide out in Sugar Creek for a year under an assumed identity?”
“How much did you tell him?” Chloe asked.
“Only as much as I had to.” Rae flushed thinking about the way she’d manipulated the conversation. She’d never been one for playing games, but in this case she’d definitely danced around the truth. “I told him that I’d elected to live a year incognito and by my wits in order to test myself. I wanted to know what it felt like to live a more normal life, without the benefits of a hefty allowance, my stepfather’s influence, and my mother’s fame. That’s why I refused to participate in the photo session and video shoot arranged by the publishing company. I didn’t want to risk blowing my cover. I told him things had changed now and my experiment was over.” All of which was true.
“Juicy stuff,” Daisy said.
Not as juicy as the deeper details Rae thought, but no way was she sharing those with the world. “Brett was definitely intrigued. Even more so when I told him about my newly acquired inheritance. I could live anywhere and do anything, I told him, but what I wanted most was to be part of this caring community. Most especially to run the local day care center and to devote my efforts to raising awareness for the charitable causes of the Cupcake Lovers. I told him,” and Rae still couldn’t believe she’d gone this far, “that if his house didn’t publish our recipe/memoir book, and soon, I would.”
Chloe’s mouth fell open.
Daisy blinked.
“I know it was presumptuous of me,” Rae hurried on. “I didn’t ask the club first. Honestly the thought came to me out of the blue, in the midst of my discussion with Brett. I don’t know much about it, but I know the publishing industry is in flux. You don’t need a publishing house in order to get your project out there. You, we, can self-publish Cupcake Lover’s Delectable Delights. We’d need to hire someone to show us the ropes, handle certain aspects, but we’d be in full control and make more money besides. More money for the charities of our choice. I’m more than willing to finance the effort. It’s such a great cause and … I’m rambling.”
Chloe traded a look with Daisy. “It’s definitely something to consider.”
“Maybe we’d be better off,” Daisy said.
“Devlin negotiated the contracts,” Chloe said. “When he gets back—”
“Maybe it’s as simple as returning that advance,” Daisy said.
“I really don’t know,” Rae said.
“Devlin will.” Chloe met Rae’s gaze. “Are you sure about backing us?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do with my money. Other than buying Sugar Tots and developing a top-notch day care and after-school facility.”
“We’ll have to discuss this self-publishing venture with the other Cupcake Lovers,” Daisy said.
“Thursday’s meeting,” Chloe said. “Meanwhile I’ll do some research on the Internet.”
“Me, too,” Rae said.
“If we do this,” Daisy said, “we’ll need someone to help spread the news. Get our name and book out there. You know. One of those publicity people. Like that woman Rocky’s been working for.”
“Harper Day,” Chloe said. “She’s a publicist for a big firm out in Hollywood. Recognize her name?”
Rae shook her head. “I typically steer clear of publicists. I’m betting Olivia would know her though. My mother’s pretty up on anyone who can get her face and name in the media.”
“Harper bought a second home here in Sugar Creek,” Chloe said.
“The Rothwell Farm,” Daisy said. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“Because that house is haunted?” Rae asked. Living in Sugar Creek a year, she’d heard plenty of stories about the Rothwell place. Especially since it was supposedly haunted by one of the original Cupcake Lovers.
“No one’s ever lived in that house for more than a two-year stretch, Daisy said. “There’s the legend—the longer you live there, the sadder you get—but it’s also a money pit. Every time you fix something, something else breaks.”
“Harper’s not living there full-time though,” Chloe said. “She just pops in for a random few days each month or so. Since she spends so little time there, maybe the legendary ‘funk’ won’t affect her. As to the money pit aspect, Rocky pulled Sam in to set that house to rights. I’m betting his repairs stick. That man’s amazing.”
Rae’s stomach rolled with guilt. She hadn’t heard from Sam since Luke had told him to back off. She felt bad that she’d caused friction between the two cousins. She felt worse thinking she’d hurt Sam’s feelings. They’d formed a friendship of sorts and she’d pretty much botched it. She needed to mend that bridge, but she wasn’t sure how. One thing was certain, she couldn’t avoid Sam forever. He’d be at the CL meeting on Thursday for sure.
“When Rocky gets back,” Chloe said, “maybe she can pick Harper’s brain.”
“Why wait?’ Daisy asked. “Sam bailed on dinner last night because he’s set on putting that house to
rights as quickly as possible. Means he’s spending a lot of time there. I’ll ask him to pick Harper’s brain. That way we can have even more specifics for Thursday.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Chloe said.
“I guess not,” Rae said.
“I’ll text him right now,” Daisy said while whipping out her phone.
“Why not just call?” Rae asked.
Daisy rolled her eyes. “That’s so yesterday.”
Chloe grinned then reached over and squeezed Rae’s hand. “So what about the rest of your day? How did it go with the bank?”
Rae smiled back, anxious to share her good news and knowing Chloe would encourage her to share every detail. “Sugar Tots is as good as mine.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Sam was in the liquor store when his phone pinged for the twentieth time in the last hour. He’d been trading texts, sexy texts with Harper. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d been possessed by a twenty-year-old. Sam was almost forty. He texted out of necessity, not on the norm. He sure as hell didn’t thumb racy thoughts into his phone and hit Send.
Except for tonight.
She’d started it. He’d just gotten Ben and Mina settled with a bucket of fried chicken when Harper had sent him her first note.
GET OVER HERE SOON OR I’LL COME W/O U
He’d had to read it twice. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Would she be so brazen?
Yeah. She would.
Balls tight, Sam had walked out of the kitchen and thumbed a response. DO THAT AND I’LL HAVE TO PUNISH YOU
THREAT?
PROMISE
IN2 KINK?
IN2 U
There’d been a pause and he’d thought he’d blown it. But then she’d responded …
NOT IF U DON’T GET HERE SOON
To which Sam texted: RED OR WHITE?
For the next half hour he’d been in a bit of a blue-ball haze. He’d dropped the kids at their grandparents’ on the pretense that a friend had a plumbing problem and he’d promised to lend a hand. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be. An hour? Two? He’d be in touch.