“Thank god! I was trying to set up Plans B and C and D.”
“What were they?” She smiled into his hazel eyes so full of love.
“Didn’t have any yet.” He grinned back. “I’m really sorry.”
“Shh. It’s over. Let it go.” She reached up and kissed him. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of other things to work out.”
“We will,” he murmured. “But, if we’re willing to, we could get past any issues.”
“We could.” A thought struck her. “Vince, I have to take care of Carly still.”
“Of course,” he replied. “I wouldn’t expect anything different. I want you. All of you in my life.”
Cupid grinned as he sat on the rooftop, legs swinging, watching the celebration below. He liked dropping in on them every now and then. It was Carly’s graduation day and the whole gang was in Vince and Leena’s backyard celebrating.
He followed the couple he considered one of his successes as they took platters back into the kitchen. Cupid materialized in the breakfast nook.
“I can’t believe she made it. I didn’t think I would survive it at times,” Leena said, rinsing off a plate.
“Leave it, babe, we’ll do it later. I know what you mean. And it’s probably not over, is it? There’s college and more boys.” Vince gave a mock sigh. “I may actually not survive it after all.”
She laughed and moved to his side. “Oh I think you will. In fact, I have a feeling you’ll find yourself with other things to focus on besides Carly’s boyfriends.”
He drew her into his arms. “I will? Like what?”
Cupid sighed. Yeah, their own kids—twins in fact—would keep Vince and Leena busy. He flexed his wings for the journey back. Maybe he’d stop by Easter Bunny’s and tell him the news. They should probably raise a glass to Cupid’s success story.
Crazy Cupid
Phyllis Campbell
Best selling historical author, Phyllis Campbell has changed direction and is now expanding her talent into the contemporary market. She’s written four historical romances for Champagne books and is nonstop in writing more. She’s been an avid reader of romance since her first year of marriage in 1985 and she still can’t stop writing happy romantic endings.
Phyllis is a member of several online critique groups and romance writer groups including Romance Writer’s of America.
Books by Phyllis Campbe
My Heart Belongs To You
My Knight, My Rogue
Always, My Love
Mistletoe Magic
Dedication
I’d like to dedicate this story to my critique partners at Critterpals, and especially to Rayka Mennen for following the story to the end. I also want to thank my fans for encouraging my writing.
One
She was using him.
That could be the only reason for her doubts about her forthcoming marriage.
Kenya Whitaker pressed her back against the brick wall, hiding from the guests inside her soon-to-be mother-in-law’s house. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cool February night’s air, hoping to clear the several glasses of champagne she’d consumed already tonight. If she had to put up with more of Lisa Montgomery’s fake friends wishing her a happy future with Terrel, she’d be tempted to start grabbing the whole bottle of alcohol instead of the goblets Lisa’s butler passed around. Kenya tried to be polite, but if she saw one more plastered-on smile, heard one more person call her darling, and endured one more cold-fish handshake, she’d do something completely out of character and scream. Swinging a bat around the room just to clear out Lisa’s friends tempted her more than ever.
She giggled. The champagne was definitely taking effect.
With her thoughts scrambled, and suffocation overwhelming her, she ran her hand over the back of her neck. It had been excessively warm inside the crowded house. Careful not to disturb the French twist she’d styled her mass of hair in this evening, she patted it to make sure it still held together. Rolling her head, she worked out the kinks in her neck, wishing the knots in her shoulders would loosen, too. Why can’t I enjoy this party? Deep down she knew the answer … yet she wouldn’t admit it, because that meant admitting defeat.
From inside the glass patio door next to her, voices grew louder. Her heart thumped against the wall of her chest and she skidded away toward the shadows hovering around the rose garden. She lifted her long black skirt to her ankles to take larger steps due to the tight-fitting length, and hurried toward the garden. Before she reached the edge of the patio, the gazebo caught her eye. Kenya changed directions and headed toward the get-a-way slightly hidden by the canopied oak trees.
Once inside, she wiped dust off the cushioned benches and sat. She closed her eyes and let the cool air touch her bare arms. Because of the high-neck collar on the satin dress, she was unable to feel the same comfort on her throat. She wasn’t complaining. This design was her best selling dress since she’d started her business. In one month, she’d sold over a hundred and fifty dresses.
So why aren’t I happy?
Kenya touched the collar that hooked in the back. She enjoyed the way the material flowed around her breasts, leaving her arms and back completely bare before gathering tightly at her waist. The high slit on the long, beaded black gown displayed most of her right leg and high-heeled matching shoe.
She looked toward the house and sighed. She couldn’t stay out here forever. Eventually, someone in the party would notice her gone. After all, this was for her and Terrel. What were the chances her own fiancé would miss her?
A light wind blew across her face, moving the tendrils by her ears. She lifted her face to the breeze and closed her eyes. Tree limbs scraped the top of the gazebo but didn’t override the chirping of night sounds and croaking of frogs in Lisa’s pond.
“Pssst.”
She snapped her eyes open, glancing around the shadowed yard. That didn’t sound like a frog.
The sound grew louder. “Pssst.”
Unless it was a frog on steroids. She stood and walked over to the edge of the railing. In the manicured shrubbery a man’s form appeared. Doubting her sight, she blinked, looking again. This time the figure stood, making the shadow larger. Had the frog turned into Price Charming? Unlikely.
She gasped. “Who’s … out there?”
The bushes moved again and he stepped out. The shadows hid his identity well. Her heart raced as she blinked to clear her distorted vision. It could be Prince Charming…
“I’m looking for Kenya Whitaker.”
She hitched a breath. He talks! “What do you want with her?”
“If you’re Kenya, I want to know if your father is Edward Whitaker, the writer of the book, Away in Time.”
Her pulsating heart slowed and she took in a deep breath. Another fan of her father’s no doubt. Although she wasn’t an avid Science Fiction reader, she would always be polite to her father’s fan club. “I’m sure you know that answer or you wouldn’t be out here.”
He stepped closer—close enough for her to see how he was dressed. He certainly didn’t look like any Prince Charming she knew. By his rugged appearance, he couldn’t be one of the guests from the party. As a fashion designer, she knew his black, overly-large short-sleeved cotton shirt and black Levis wouldn’t blend well with the tuxedos the men inside the mansion wore. The strange man resembled a hoodlum. And why wasn’t he wearing shoes? She crinkled her brow. Her fashion tastes kicked in, making her want to teach him how to dress. But then she’d have to touch him.
His hair was almost as black as his clothes, and it hung to the end of his neck, barely brushing his shoulders. A shaggy goatee shaped his mouth and his square jaw. Her in-the-latest-fashioned sense roared into high gear, and she itched to find a pair of trimmers to help him with that.
“I take it you’re Kenya Whitaker then?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Eli.”
“I’m assuming you’re not one of Lisa’s guests.”
<
br /> “I’m not,” he said.
“So what are you doing out here?”
“I was watching you, hoping for a private moment alone.”
Her heart rate climbed a notch higher. “Why?”
“Because there’s something very important I need to discuss with you.”
She arched a brow. “What’s that?”
He shook his head. “Can we meet after the party?”
Oh sure! Do I look like I meet with strange men after parties? She hoped not. “Why can’t we talk now?”
“It’s not a good time. Too many people are around. I don’t want our conversation to be interrupted.”
She gulped the golf ball-sized knot in her throat. Or he doesn’t want witnesses. “That’s not a good idea.” Her voice trembled. “Just tell me now.”
He released a heavy sigh and folded his arms. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
A smile stayed on his scruffy face, and the skin around his eyes seemed to soften. Even his shoulders relaxed. Too bad her pulse wouldn’t do the same.
“I came to tell you your family is in grave danger.”
Her heart jumped to her throat. “Wha—what do you mean?”
“If I can’t put a stop to something that’s going to happen soon, something tragic will happen to your family.”
“How do you know?”
A heavy sigh came from him as he ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. “Believe me, I know.”
She cocked her head. “Has anything happened now?”
“Not yet.”
“How will I know when it happens?”
He growled, folding his arms over his chest. “Miss Whitaker, will you please stop asking questions for now and listen to me?”
She nodded, twisting her hands against her stomach. “Sorry. Please continue.”
“You may think this sounds funny, but if I can’t stop you from marrying Terrel, your family will be in grave danger … in the future.”
It took a moment for her to register what he said, but as soon as her fuzzy mind unscrambled his sentence, she let out an uncontrolled snort. Gaining control over her reaction, she straightened her shoulders. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m more serious than I’ve ever been in my life.” He took another step closer and leaned against the frame of the gazebo.
“Why are you telling me this?” She scowled. “What makes you think you know what’s going to happen in the future?”
“Oh, believe me, I know. And I also know what’s going to happen thirty years from now.”
“Ha! How can you know what’s going to happen in thirty years? Are you a psychic?
“No. The reason I know is because…” He bit his bottom lip.
In anticipation, she held her breath.
“I know because…” He scratched under his ear. “I’m from the future, and I’ve come to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
She blinked, not believing what she’d heard. The future? Without a doubt, he was completely crazy. So what am I doing outside in the dark with a crazy man? Am I that bored? For the first time tonight, she couldn’t wait to get back to the party, but he blocked her path. “Listen, Mister—”
“Eli.”
“Okay, Eli. I must admit, you caught my attention with that family warning thing, but now I think you’ve probably got the wrong woman. Besides, I need to get back to my engagement party. I’m sure Terrel is looking for me as we speak.”
“Or maybe not.” He shrugged. “In fact, I think your fiancé is probably the center of attention, surrounded by beautiful women who want to sleep with him, and men who can’t wait to kiss his ass.”
She pursed her lips at Eli’s remark. How dare he presume to know more about Terrel than she did? Although he did hit the nail on the head.
“It doesn’t matter. I need to get back.” She glanced over his body, taking in his shabby attire again and cringing. Poor guy needed to be slapped up side the head with a fashion stick.
“Kenya,” he said, reaching out to touch her hand.
Gasping, she pulled back. Her high-heeled shoes caught in between two boards and tipped her off balance. She flayed her hands, hoping to grasp onto something to keep her from falling. But two strong arms caught her before she hit the ground. She clung to his hard body. Dizziness assailed her, and she cursed herself for drinking so much champagne. Either that or it was his sexy scent of spice that made her lightheaded.
As he pulled her upright, the front of her body rubbed against his. Tingles danced over her skin, making her heart flutter. Good grief! What in the hell just happened?
“Kenya,” he said again, his voice lower than before. “I am from the future, and I can prove it. And I can prove your father is in danger.”
She swallowed hard. “How?”
After letting go of her, he reached in his baggy jeans’ pocket and pulled out a red and green flashing gadget. “This is what I used to come here.”
Biting her bottom lip, she held in a laugh. “Uh-huh…” I’m surprised he didn’t come in a time machine that looks like a car. “And what exactly is your time?”
“I’ve come from thirty-one years in the future.”
She bit her lip from laughing again. “Really, Mister, do you think I’m going to believe this?”
“Kenya, please call me Eli.”
“Fine. Eli, forgive me, but I’m not buying one word you’re saying.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you of all people would understand. After all, your father did write a book about time-travel.”
“That doesn’t mean I believe in it.” She chuckled. “Besides, that story is fiction.”
Eli shook his head. “You don’t know how wrong you are. That book tells more about the future than any book I’ve ever read. I think your father was inspired to write that.”
Her wobbly legs forced her to sit on a bench. An ache started in the base of her skull and she rubbed the tender spot. “Okay, Eli, let’s just say for humor’s sake that you’re from the future. What’s so important you had to come at this time of night to tell me? And how is my father involved?”
“I couldn’t figure out any other way to meet you, and what I have to say is very important. Talking to you alone is the only way I can get your help.”
“Oh, so the truth comes out.” She nodded. “You want my help with something.”
“Yes.”
“Like what?”
During his pause, the full moon hit his gaze as he glanced over her face, then to her hair, and down her dress. When his stare rested on her chest, her bosom tingled and she crossed her arms to hide the sudden rise of her unbound nipples. When his eyes finally met hers again, he smiled. Why was his sexy grin doing weird things to her stomach?
“My purpose in coming here is to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life—and in the process, I’m saving both of our futures from being destroyed.”
“Go on.”
“Terrel isn’t a very good man. Just like now, he’s greedy, cunning, vindictive, and enjoys ruining people’s lives. Terrel will soon create a computer system that literally gives him access to everything he wants in the world. Thirty-one years from now, that man will control everything from the banks, to the airport, to the police department. With one stroke of his finger on the computer’s keyboard, he’ll decide your fate.”
“So my soon-to-be-husband is a computer hacker?”
“Not just any hacker. Terrel is the master of all hackers. He knows his way through any computer ever programmed.”
She shook her head. “This is too implausible.”
“Wait, there’s more.”
“Like what?”
“This morning when I left my time to come here, he was devising a plan to take over the nuclear warheads all over the world. He’ll try to take over the world, and in the process, he’ll destroy everything. He’s evil, Kenya. People in my time fear for their lives. That’s why I’m here. T
o stop him.”
A painful twinge began in the back of Kenya’s head, working its way up her skull. She closed her eyes and reached back to massage her neck, trying to ease it before it became a full-blown migraine. But Eli’s words echoed through her mind and wouldn’t leave. Terrel is corrupt?
“What does my father have to do with any of this?”
Eli stepped closer, leaning his hip against the railing. “In my time, he’s trying to stop your husband. Terrel has kidnapped him and is probably torturing him.”
Eli reached into his other pocket and withdrew a ring. She squinted to see it better. When she recognized her father’s school ring, she gasped. Besides his wedding band, her father never removed his college ring.
“Where’d you get that?”
“This is what Terrel sent to my battalion of men to prove he had your father. Along with it was his … finger.”
She gasped and covered her mouth. Staring at the ring, her mind buzzed with logic … or tried to. But although Eli’s story was so far-fetched, the fact that he had her father’s ring—the ring he’d never taken off—proved something. Didn’t it?
He sat beside her and the wooden bench groaned. His pleasant scent enveloped her as she lifted her gaze to look at his shadowed face. When had he gotten so close? Even in the night, she knew his eyes were pleading for help. She scrunched her forehead as the headache grew.
She scooted closer to the edge of the bench. “And what exactly am I suppose to do about all of this?”
“Don’t marry Terrel Montgomery.”
She shook her head. “Oh, and everything will change just like that?” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “Let’s just say I don’t marry him—assuming I believe your story.” At seeing his eyes widen, she hurried and continued. “If I don’t marry him, he’ll marry someone else and he’ll still do all those bad things.”
Eli leaned in closer. “But that won’t happen, Kenya. With your help, we can take Terrel out of the CEO seat and put the rightful president back in.”
Stupid Cupid Page 9