by Cindy Kirk
The tense set to Ami’s shoulders eased. Although Cade could tell her sister wasn’t completely convinced—smart woman—she appeared willing to give Marigold the benefit of the doubt. For now.
“Well, I’m glad you came.” Warmth and love laced through Ami’s words. “If Fin were here, I’d have all my sisters with me. I can’t imagine a more glorious way to ring in another year.”
Though Cade couldn’t see anything distressing about Ami’s comment, Marigold’s fingers tightened around his bicep.
“I like this song,” he announced as the music changed to a slow, romantic ballad likely popular when his great-grandfather had been in high school. Cade fixed his gaze on Marigold. “Let’s dance.”
Relief flickered in her eyes. Her sunny smile never wavered. “Let’s.”
Marigold turned to her sister and brother-in-law. “Mind if I spend the night?”
The request put to rest any hope Cade still harbored of Marigold ringing in the new year in his bed.
Pleasure tinged with relief rippled across Ami’s face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“You’re always welcome,” Beck added. “Stay as long as you like.”
“Thank you.” Marigold’s voice wavered slightly, but Cade didn’t think Ami or Beck noticed.
Marigold didn’t say another word. Instead, with that bright smile still fixed to those pretty red lips, she dragged Cade across the parlor toward the music and dancers in the adjoining room.
Chapter Two
“When are you going to tell me why you’re really here?”
Marigold’s eyes popped open. After several minutes of swaying with Cade on the dance floor, she’d let her tired eyes drift shut. For the first time since she’d left Chicago, she’d begun to relax.
The way her luck had gone recently, it figured the interlude wouldn’t last.
Leaning back slightly in his arms, she glanced up into the smoky gray eyes that had mesmerized her from the moment she’d seen him at her friend Shannon’s wedding. He was a good-looking guy, no doubt about it.
He had the trifecta. Tall. Dark. Handsome.
And more. An indefinable something that drew her to him, even when common sense told her to turn tail and run. She could easily get more than she bargained for with this man.
Which meant she should keep her distance. Her life was complicated enough.
“I never believed you could go this long without speaking.”
“You haven’t been around me all that much.” She gave a toss of her head, sending blonde curls rippling down her back like a cascade. “Certainly not enough to know what’s considered normal behavior.”
“I’ve observed enough to know that you like to talk, a lot.”
Something in that smug smile of his pricked her temper. Marigold embraced the heat coursing through her veins. When Ami had been solicitous, she’d nearly lost it. Yes, anger was better.
“You’re an arrogant ass.” Though her words were spoken softly, they held a bite.
She was startled when Cade threw back his head and laughed, then twirled her in a spin. When she was once again clasped tightly against his chest, she realized he seemed to be under the impression she’d given him a compliment.
Marigold met his gaze, unblinking. “Ah, just to clarify, that’s not a good thing.”
The smile that lifted those firm, sensual lips made her insides quiver. “I guess that depends.”
She could have asked for clarification of the cryptic remark, but she had a feeling that’s exactly what he hoped she’d do.
For several seconds they danced in silence, the music from the ancient Victrola adding an otherworldliness to the evening.
Could this be a dream? Marigold cocked her head. Hope surged as she considered the possibility. She’d been exhausted when she’d returned to Chicago after Christmas.
Perhaps she’d only imagined . . .
Perhaps things weren’t as bad . . .
Maybe if she . . .
No. Marigold gave herself a mental slap. She refused to go down that road. She knew too many people who spent their lives wishing for what could have been if only things were different.
Knowing she would survive this bump didn’t make this any easier. The thought of all she’d left behind—clients, friends, her cute apartment—had her heart swelling with emotion. Even as tears pushed at her lids, she determinedly blinked them back.
Marigold Bloom never cried in public.
She hadn’t cried when she was ten during that horrible parent-teacher conference, nor at Ami’s hospital bedside after the car accident. She hadn’t shed a single tear at her mother’s funeral.
She certainly wouldn’t cry now.
Closing her eyes briefly helped her regain her composure. Marigold opened her eyes to find Cade staring.
“Is there anything I can do?” His gaze remained locked on hers, those gray eyes as steady as the man himself.
Oh, how nice it would be if there was something he could do, something anyone could do to reverse the events of the past few days. But on the drive to Wisconsin, she’d accepted that part of her life was over.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She flashed a smile, forced a calm she didn’t feel. “I’m dancing in the arms of a handsome man at my sister’s New Year’s Eve party. Life is good.”
That all-seeing gaze didn’t waver, but when he grinned, she knew he wouldn’t press. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“You think I’m handsome.”
She rolled her eyes, even as the intoxicating scent of his musky cologne enveloped her in a warm embrace.
“Do you?” he pressed.
“It may be one of your attributes,” she grudgingly conceded but had to add, “although my fav is still arrogant ass.”
His now-boyish smile had her stomach doing flip-flops.
“I like your style, Marigold Bloom.”
She let her hands slide down his back, wishing it was skin instead of fabric beneath her fingertips. “Since we’re on the subject of attributes, I’ll add muscular. I adore muscles.”
Without warning, that night in his hotel room, her one and only one-night stand, came into sharp focus. Cade had been a perfectly sculpted Adonis with broad shoulders, lean hips, and muscular legs. He’d also been a considerate lover who’d given as much as he took.
All of those factors had allowed her to forgive her indiscretion. Not to mention she’d have had to be dead not to have been swept off her feet that evening, especially with love and romance floating in the summer air.
“I like curves. Your curves.” His voice dropped low. “I remember how they molded to—”
“Princess.”
The male voice stopped Marigold’s surge of lust dead in its tracks.
She dropped her hands from where they’d settled on Cade’s ass as if it had turned red hot, then turned to embrace her dad. All of this under the watchful eye of Anita Fishback.
She held her father close and breathed in the scent of Polo, a particular favorite of his. This gray-haired man with the pewter-rimmed spectacles had been her rock for as long as she could remember. Steve Bloom was the one man who’d never let her down.
When she finally stepped back, the sorrow kept at bay during her banter with Cade returned. She hated feeling weak and needy, especially with Anita standing there, a speculative glint in her hazel eyes.
Despite the silver dress and dark hair artfully arranged in a twist, the woman reminded Marigold of a vulture ready to swoop.
“I didn’t think you’d be able to make it back to Ami’s party, but I’m so happy you did.” Her father’s gentle eyes brimmed with hope behind the silver-framed glasses. “Will you be able to stay for a while?”
“I don’t see how.” Anita stepped forward, opening her arms wide so Marigold had no choice but to give her a hug. “She’s got that big fashion show coming up. Not to mention all her important clients.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Her father’s proud smile was like
a knife to Marigold’s heart, but she only smiled back. “I recall you telling me all about the event. Definitely a big deal.”
A big deal that had crashed and burned. Marigold had to resist the urge to sigh, which surprised her. She’d never been the sighing sort. Certainly not with Anita’s eagle eyes focused on her.
Before Marigold could come up with something that wouldn’t quite be a lie but would get her through the evening unscathed, Cade’s hand rose to rest on her shoulder.
Anita’s watchful gaze sharpened.
“I was telling Marigold how nice it was that she came back to spend New Year’s Eve with me.” Cade flashed an easy smile.
The comment achieved its purpose.
“You’re together?” Anita shot Marigold’s dad a questioning look. “You didn’t tell me that Marigold and the sheriff were dating.”
“Cade and I aren’t together.” The denial popped out of Marigold’s mouth before she could think.
“Actions speak louder than words, Goldilocks.” Cade lifted her hand to his lips. “Why else would a woman drive four hours on a snowy night to attend a party?”
Steve’s gaze slid from her to Cade. Her father, a brilliant man who taught high school science, appeared to have no trouble sorting out what was really going on. He smiled and turned to the woman at his side.
“I say we let these two young people enjoy their evening together.” Steve placed his arm firmly about his date’s shoulder, turning her in the direction of the dessert table. “I’ve got a sudden urge to try those maple-pepper salmon bites you were raving about earlier. While we eat you can finish telling me what you heard about Pastor Schmidt.”
“But Marigold said she isn’t—”
Anita’s protest was lost in the din of conversation and laughter.
Cade pulled Marigold back to him.
When he began to sway to the music, she placed her hands on his shoulders. After a moment, she pressed a kiss against his neck.
He stilled for only a second before he resumed dancing. “I’m surprised you resisted my charms this long.”
Ignoring the teasing comment, she let out a breath. “I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
His innocent tone didn’t fool her. The comment he’d made to Anita had been delivered with pinpoint accuracy. “Diverting the vulture.”
He smiled. “An apt description.”
“My sisters and I actually prefer piranha. Or sometimes, if we’re feeling particularly charitable, I-Need-a-Man. Whatever you call her, Anita Fishback is a gossip who rejoices in other people’s misfortunes.”
A dark brow lifted. “What is your misfortune, Marigold?”
“You mean other than dancing with someone who calls me Goldilocks?” The light, teasing tone came naturally. For reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely, Marigold found it easy to relax around the sheriff.
“Yeah, other than that.” His quick grin sent a flash of heat straight to her core.
“It’s a long, sad tale of betrayal and loss.” She’d intended to toss the words out there with a melodramatic flair, perhaps bring that devastating smile back to his lips.
Unfortunately, the words hit too close to home, and her voice thickened on the last word. She clamped her mouth shut.
Darn. Darn. Darn.
The song from the Victrola changed beats. Marigold found she didn’t have the energy—or the desire—to launch into such a high-energy dance. Once again, Cade appeared to sense her desire before she could voice it.
He took her arm, guiding her through a small but enthusiastic group who were swinging their arms and step-kicking to the beat.
“If we’re going to dance the Charleston, you need fuel,” he said when she found her voice and asked where he was taking her.
“What can you recommend, other than going for pizza?” Feeling infinitely steadier, Marigold slanted a sideways glance. Why did he have to look—and smell—so delicious? “If you remember, Ami put the kibosh on us going out.”
“Kibosh? I didn’t think anyone under sixty used that word.” He tilted his head. “Are you sure you’re twenty-eight?”
“Twenty-seven,” she corrected, then realized she didn’t know his age. “How old are you?”
“Ancient.”
“Seriously.”
“Thirty-two.”
Marigold grimaced. “You are old. Thank goodness you’ve got stamina.”
The last part made him grin. “How kind of you to remember.”
Oh, she remembered everything about the night they’d spent together. Suddenly warm, she fanned her face with her hand. “Is it hot in here?”
“Blistering.”
The twitch of his lips gave him away.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Not at all. I’m simply glad to know that I’m not the only one suffering.”
She couldn’t help it. She dropped her gaze to the front of his trousers but found his jacket covering the area in question.
“If you don’t believe me, we could go somewhere private, and I’d be happy to show you.”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky, mister. I’m the kind who’d call your bluff.”
“I’ll take a rain check.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “Tonight it will be food and family with an enjoyable few hours with me tossed into the mix as a distraction.”
He’d nailed it, Marigold thought.
“I don’t want to take up all your time. If you want to check out some of the other women in the room, feel free.” She paused, then had to hide a grimace when her gaze settled on Eliza Shaw. Though the dark-haired beauty looked stunning in a white-and-silver gown that flattered her model-like figure, Marigold could not recommend her. Not to anyone she liked, anyway.
Eliza might be young, single, and successful, but the executive director of the Cherries was a piranha in the making. Give her another five years and she’d be as insufferable as Anita.
“I expected to see her here with Jeremy.” Cade had followed the direction of her gaze, and his now lingered on Eliza. “But they arrived separately.”
“You don’t miss much.”
“It’s my job.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “I’m a trained observer.”
Which likely meant he’d seen through her false bravado. Yet he’d kept quiet. Instead of pushing her to bare her soul, he’d gallantly provided a diversion to keep the questions of others at bay.
“I’ll say this once, just so we’re clear.” He stopped at the edge of a linen-clad table holding a number of silver chafing dishes and lowered his voice. “I’m spending time with you because you’re the most interesting, vibrant woman in the room.”
A flood of pleasure washed over Marigold even as she cast him a skeptical glance.
“I’m not saying that because I want to get you into bed.” He handed her a china plate, took one for himself. “Although that would be a nice side benefit. It’s the truth.”
When she opened her mouth, he waved away her words before they could leave her lips.
“I know sex isn’t happening, at least not tonight. Your sister made that very clear. Not to mention the daggers your father has been shooting me all evening.”
“My dad has not—” Marigold stopped when she caught sight of her father. Although he stood halfway across the main parlor, his concerned gaze was indeed focused on Cade. She chuckled and scooped up two bacon-wrapped shrimp. “I’m the baby of the group. It’s only natural for my family to be overprotective.”
“Understood.”
Her hand brushed his when they both reached for the hood of the next dish. A bolt of electricity traveled up her arm.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” She kept her voice deliberately low, forcing him to lean close to hear her. “If things were different, I’d have happily gone home with you tonight.”
His mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut.
The energy that pulsed between them crackled. Any second Marigold expected to hear a lou
d boom. While she might not sleep with Cade tonight, by the time midnight rolled around, Marigold saw no reason not to kiss him.
Her body quivered with excitement when the countdown began. Ami and Beck stood in front of the crowd with their glasses raised high. Knowing her sister, Marigold had no doubt the liquid in Ami’s glass was some kind of sparkling cider, not champagne.
Prim stood on the other side of Marigold, her husband’s arm looped around her shoulder. As the crowd yelled out the numbers, Marigold moistened her lips in anticipation. A kiss was just what she needed to put a shiny star on top of a sucky day.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eliza saunter close. The woman’s dark, inverted bob flattered her high cheekbones and slightly slanted eyes. Her makeup had been expertly applied, and the bright red lipstick couldn’t help but draw attention to her full lips.
“One,” the crowd screamed.
Noisemakers popped and cheers filled the air.
Marigold took a quick gulp of champagne, then turned to Cade, her arms already lifting to wrap around his neck.
But someone was already there. Eliza’s slender body wrapped around Cade like a snake, her fingers sliding possessively through his hair.
Fighting a surge of anger and something that felt an awful lot like hurt, Marigold whirled. She had no claim on Cade, but that didn’t mean she had to stand there and watch him kiss Eliza.
Seeing red, she didn’t notice she’d bumped into Travis Forbes until his body jolted her to a stop.
“Happy New Year, Marigold.”
She’d gone to school with Travis. He was one of those guys who was everyone’s buddy. Good-looking if you were into the guy-next-door variety.
“Happy New Year, Travis.”
She was practically positive that she didn’t make the first move. Kissing Travis would be an awful lot like kissing her brother, if she had a brother.
But she also knew she didn’t protest when he enfolded her in his arms and pressed his mouth to hers.
Yep, just like kissing a relative.
Marigold was ready to step back when, over Travis’s shoulder, she saw Cade approaching, a murderous look in his eyes.
Instead of moving away, she moved in even closer and kissed Travis with all the passion she’d saved up for Cade.