by Debbie Mason
Given the squinty-eyed look Skye aimed at Claudia, Ethan figured he could do both women a favor. He’d seen Skye’s face when Claudia had recognized her at the ceremony earlier today. Added to his campaign manager’s comments, it was obvious the two women had a history. In Skye’s case, it didn’t appear to be a happy one. Then again, she hadn’t been happy to see him, either. Too bad—he didn’t plan on going anywhere until he knew she was all right.
He turned to Claudia, who stood a few feet away in a conservative red dress with a handkerchief pressed to her nose. “Why don’t you head to the booth? I’ll be there shortly.”
Her glossy red lips pursed as she looked from Skye to the port-a-potty. “All right, but you’re scheduled to take part in the hamburger-eating contest in fifteen minutes.”
As a weak groan escaped from Skye, Ethan stood up and offered her a hand. “Might help to settle your stomach if we move away from here.”
“There’s your mother.” Claudia waved. “Over here, Liz.”
Skye groaned louder this time, her gaze shooting to the trees. “Don’t even think about it,” Ethan said, helping her to her feet. “You’re too weak to make a run for it.”
“I wasn’t going to make a run for it,” she scoffed, tugging her hand from his, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes darted from his mother back to the woodland path.
Raising a skeptical brow as he grabbed his bottle of water from the trampled grass, he moved her upwind of the port-a-potty. She rolled her eyes at him, but he wasn’t buying it. His mother, Liz O’Connor, and Skye weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Three months ago, Liz had threatened to have her arrested.
Ethan offered Skye his bottled water. She gave him an as-if look. “I’ll take some gum if you have any.”
He should’ve known better. In their brief time together, Skye, an environmental activist, had lectured him about the damage bottled water did to the environment and the amount of chemicals contained in the plastic. Handing her a stick of gum, he said to Claudia, “Do me a favor and cut my mother off at the pass. I need to speak to Skye for a sec… in private.”
“Skye? Oh right, I keep forgetting that you changed your name, Kendall. Don’t be long, Ethan. We don’t want to keep people waiting. Kendall, come find me later. We have lots to catch up on, and I have to get a picture of you in your adorable costume.”
He heard Skye mutter “Not if I can help it” under her breath before she forced a smile and said, “Sure.”
Claudia bent down to tug her red-spiked heel from the grass, then gingerly made her way down the incline to meet his mother.
“So,” Ethan said, returning his attention to Skye, “how do you know Claudia?”
Head bowed, she yanked on the low-cut bodice. He imagined the effort was intended to keep her full breasts from practically falling out of her dress. Other than distracting him, it wasn’t working. With one last frustrated tug, she blew out a breath and looked up at him. “Our fathers are friends. Richard helped get my dad elected. How did you end up with Claudia as your campaign manager?”
“Richard and my dad were both aides in the Ford White House. They stayed in touch. He advised my parents on their breeding stock, sold them a couple of horses. When my mother told him I was running for the state senate, he suggested I hire Claudia.”
“Small world.”
“Yeah, it is.” He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and asked her the question that had been bugging him since he’d discovered who she was. “How come you never told me your dad was William Davis or that your real name is Kendall?”
She gave him a bewildered look. “Why would I?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Skye. Maybe because we spent the night together.”
“I…” she began, then frowned. “You’re serious.” She shrugged. “We slept together, Ethan. It’s not like we had a relationship.”
She was right, of course. But that didn’t stop the slow burn building in his gut. Because the thing was, she had rocked his world that night. He moved closer, leaning into her. “Yeah, well, when I’m deep inside a woman and shouting her name, I’d like to know it’s the right one.”
“Quid pro quo, Ethan. It would’ve been nice to know before we made love that you thought I was some flighty, spoiled rich girl who needed to grow up, and that the causes I supported were nothing more than a joke to you. For that matter, everything I believe in, everything I feel strongly about, you—”
It was kind of hard to take her seriously when she was standing in front of him wearing wings, her cupcake crown sliding onto her forehead. He reached out to straighten it while fighting back a grin. “That’s not what I said. You didn’t give me a chance to explain before—”
Her eyes widened, and she pushed his hand away, shoving the crown back on her head. “You’re doing it again. You think I’m a—”
At the sound of someone approaching, Ethan looked up to see his mother marching toward him with Claudia in tow. “Uh, Skye,” he went to interrupt her, but she was off on a tangent and didn’t stop to take a breath.
“You know what? I don’t care. What happened between us was a mistake, and one I have no intention of repeating. I will never sleep with you again, Ethan O’Connor.”
Because Skye’s voice got increasingly louder the more agitated she became, his mother heard her and shot him an accusatory stare. Claudia shot him a disbelieving one. And Skye, who’d just then realized she had an audience, looked like she wanted to turn him into a toad.
“Mom, you remember Skye, Madison’s best friend?” He gave Liz a warning look, one he hoped she wouldn’t ignore.
“Ms. Davis.” His mother directed a tight nod at Skye and looped her arm through his. “Darling, they’re waiting for you to start the hamburger-eating contest.”
“Hi, Mrs. O’Connor,” Skye said politely. “I have to get going, too. Cake Fairy duties, you know. Have fun eating all those cows… I mean burgers.” She started to walk away, then turned and took the bottle of water from his hand. “We can’t have the senator-to-be looking less than his best, now can we?” Before he realized what she was up to, Skye unscrewed the cap and doused his shoes with water.
Ethan raised his eyes from his now-clean but soaked shoes. With a withering smile, Skye handed him the empty bottle. “When you get tired of killing poor, defenseless animals to adorn your feet, let me know. Target has a great deal on pleather ones.”
Her mouth hanging open, his mother stared after Skye. “I can’t believe she just did that. What is wrong with that girl?” She pinched his arm. “And what is wrong with you? I can’t believe you slept—”
“I’m thirty-six years old, Mom, who I… spend time with is none of your business.” He watched Skye, wings flapping, flounce toward Madison, who was jogging up the path with a man in a blue uniform shirt.
“It most certainly is my business. You’re running for state senate. Being involved with a woman like Skylar Davis would destroy your chances.”
“We’re not involved. But I think you’re being overly dramatic.” And he’d had about all the drama he could take for one day.
Claudia looped her arm through his. “I’m happy to hear that, Ethan, because Liz is right. She’s a campaign manager’s worst nightmare. Well, the manager of a Republican candidate’s worst nightmare, at least,” Claudia said with a laugh, then tilted her head to study him. “I’m surprised you were involved with her. You two have nothing in common.”
Ethan was only half-listening to Claudia. He was too busy watching a group of kids swarm Skye. They wrapped their arms around her legs and waist, tugging on her hands. She laughed, playfully spinning in a circle as they hung off her.
“Ethan O’Connor, get that smile off your face and stop looking at that girl,” his mother snapped. “You’re like a dog in heat.”
“Nice, Mom, real nice,” he said, as they headed in the direction of the sign-up booth. Both women clung to his arms as if they didn’t trust him not to go chasing after Skye with his tongue hanging o
ut and his tail wagging.
A distinct possibility.
Because from the first time he’d laid eyes on Skylar Davis, he’d wanted her with an intensity that nearly knocked him on his ass. And once he got her in his bed, he didn’t want to let her go. But he was smart enough to realize that both Claudia and his mother were right. Any involvement with Skylar Davis would kill his chances in the election.
She was a bleeding-heart liberal who believed in same-sex marriage and gun control and could turn a simple difference of opinion into a reason for all-out war. And there was nothing Ethan wanted more than to win a seat in the state senate. He’d made a promise to his father, and he planned to keep it.
Chapter Two
Her cheeks heating with embarrassment, Skye stomped away. The least Ethan could’ve done was warn her his mother was within earshot. Liz O’Connor had looked at her like she was the lowest of the low, a sleazy ho. Admittedly the costume Skye wore pushed her B-cup boobs into the C-cup vicinity, but she was so not a ho.
Skye didn’t know why she let Liz O’Connor’s opinion of her bother her, anyway. A few months ago, she’d threatened to have Skye arrested after Skye had accidentally dumped champagne on Ethan’s head. Okay, so maybe she’d done it on purpose—but really, talk about an overprotective mama bear. Skye never would’ve taken Ethan for a mama’s boy, but obviously he was.
Too bad he was also one of the most drool-worthy men she’d ever met. And not only was he off-the-charts gorgeous, he knew how to put his strong, athletic body and talented hands to good use. He’d given Skye one of the most incredible, unforgettable nights of her life. And despite being in the middle of throwing up, when his hand brushed her neck as he caught up her hair, she felt a heated tremor course through her body at the memory of what those clever fingers could do, of how gentle, considerate, and kind he could be.
If she hadn’t been tossing her cupcakes, she might have thrown herself into his arms and let him kiss away all her worries and fears. And that would’ve been just one more mistake to add to the mile-high pile she’d made in the last several months. She didn’t need another straitlaced, uptight conservative telling her how to live her life. She got enough of that from her father, thank you very much.
Maybe it was a good thing Liz O’Connor hated her after all. She’d do everything in her power to keep Ethan away from Skye. Granted, Skye had probably achieved the same results all on her own when she’d drowned his Italian leather shoes.
She groaned at the sight of her best friend coming up the path with the port-a-potty man. Skye didn’t need this right now. When several of her fairy helpers darted with excited squeals past Maddie to converge on Skye, she sent her thanks to the universe. A little boy clung to her leg, two girls to her waist, while two other boys grabbed her by each hand.
“Hi, guys,” Skye laughed, her earlier embarrassment and temper dissipating.
For Maddie’s benefit, she forced herself to laugh louder, twirling in circles with the kids hanging off her in a bid to get further away from her best friend.
It didn’t work. “Hey, kids, I have to steal the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy from you,” Maddie said, stopping Skye mid-twirl.
From the determined look on her best friend’s face, Skye realized the jig was well and truly up. It was probably for the best. Maybe her stress levels would diminish once she confessed to Maddie. Keeping her financial predicament from her best friend had bothered Skye. Especially since she’d already told Grace. But her other secret, the Scary Guy secret, she couldn’t bring herself to share. Because while losing her trust fund wasn’t entirely her fault, what happened with Scary Guy pretty much was.
Maddie took her by the arm, leading her unto the path. “You’re green and”—she picked up a lock of Skye’s hair—“what’s this?”
“You don’t want to know,” Skye said. Lately, Maddie’s stomach had been as queasy as Skye’s. Only her friend’s queasiness had nothing to do with stress and port-a-potties and one obnoxiously gorgeous man. Maddie was pregnant.
Her best friend grimaced, dropped Skye’s hair, and put a hand to her mouth. “Did you…?” She nodded in the direction of the port-a-potty.
“Mmm-hmm, right there in front of Ethan and Claudia. Actually, right on Ethan’s shoes.” Skye forced a laugh, her cheeks warming at the memory. She perked herself up with the thought that her day could only get better. It sure as heck couldn’t get worse.
“That’s what I love about you. You always see the humor in life. You never let anything get you down.”
This was true, or at least it had been. The old Skye, the one who walked around wearing rose-colored glasses, never got down. The new Skye forced her lips to curve. “That’s me, little Miss Sunshine.”
Maddie gave her a searching look as they reached Main Street. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Sure I’m sure. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’ve been avoiding me. And I know it’s none of my business—you can spend your money any way you’d like—but I was wondering why you didn’t contribute to Jack and Grace’s house?”
Everyone but Skye had pitched in to buy the house on Sugar Plum Lane for Jack and Grace Flaherty. Jack had been a POW in Afghanistan for seventeen months, and he and Grace deserved all the happiness in the world. Last year, Skye would’ve gifted them the house on her own. It’d been hard not to be able to contribute.
“Skye?”
She took a fortifying breath before saying, “I’m broke.”
Maddie stood stock-still on the sidewalk outside the bakery, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “I, ah, I think I heard you wrong. You didn’t just say you’re broke, did you?” her best friend asked with a thick Southern drawl. When Maddie was nervous, she spoke Southern.
“You didn’t hear me wrong. I’m broke.” It felt kind of liberating to finally admit the truth to her best friend.
“Skye, this isn’t funny. You can’t be broke. You have more money than—”
“Je suis fauché. Que significa. Non ho un Euro. Diggin’ for dinero. In pursuit of pesos.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Maddie said.
Not surprising. Her best friend was the most fiscally responsible woman Skye had ever met. Actually, she was cheap. She was also brilliant when it came to investing and making money. Skye wouldn’t be surprised if in the near future, Maddie had more money than God.
“It’s not a big deal, really. I’ll be fine,” Skye said, taking the key for the bakery from her best friend’s limp hand. “It’s not like I have a family to support. And I have a job.”
“You have a job… like in a real job?”
“Yes.” Skye opened the door and nudged Maddie inside. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t act like the concept was foreign to me. Volunteering is work, you know.”
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I guess I’m still in shock.”
Makes two of us, Skye thought. She locked the front door and followed Maddie through the swinging half doors to the kitchen. As Maddie pulled out a stool by the stainless steel prep table, Skye went to the sink and turned on the tap.
“So how did it happen—the money, I mean? How did you lose your fortune?”
“It seems Big Al made a slight miscalculation on a few years of tax returns. ‘Slight’ as in ‘millions.’ I had to divest several properties in order to cover the back taxes, and with the market the way it is…” She shrugged. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on him. Some of his investments were on the shady side.” She should’ve known an accountant-slash-money manager with a name like Big Al didn’t bode well. She finished rinsing off her hair and got a glass of water before turning off the tap. Taking a tea towel from the drawer, she dried her curls.
“But that still doesn’t explain how you’re broke. You had more money than—”
“Please don’t say it. I haven’t had that much money in years.”
Maddie made a frustrated sound in her throat. “Because you couldn’t say no to anyone, not a cause o
r a person with a sob story. Skye, I can’t believe you—”
“FYI, feeling bad enough, thanks.” Skye turned back to the sink, rinsing her mouth with water before saying, “Look, I know I messed up, but what’s done is done. It’s time to move on, and I have.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. At least you have your condo and your communications degree. Who are you working for?”
She’s going to lose that hopeful expression on her face pretty darn fast. Skye considered running for cover before answering, “I had to sell my condo. But it was too big for one person anyway. And I’m tired of New York.”
Maddie gave her a since-when look with a side order of Lord-help-me thrown in for good measure, then she offered Skye an overly bright smile. “So you decided to take the fund-raising position with that environmental company in Belize you invested in.” Maddie nodded. “That’s great. It’s perfect for you.”
It would have been if the company still existed. Two days after Skye invested, Emmanuel closed up shop and fled the country.
“Skye?”
“I’m working for Grace. I think I’ve found my calling.”
“Here. You’re working here? Since when, and why did I not know this?”
“Two weeks. And I didn’t tell you because I knew how you’d react.” She crossed her arms and gave her best friend a pointed look.
“All right. Okay. But come on, Skye, you have not found your calling. I saw the cake you made today, remember? And you’re a vegan. You don’t eat cake and cupcakes. At least not the kind Grace makes.”
Up until a couple of weeks ago, that would’ve been true. But lately, Skye couldn’t seem to help herself. It was like she had a tapeworm or something. And since she’d unsuccessfully been trying to convert Maddie and her family to a vegan lifestyle, her new cupcake obsession wasn’t something she could share. And now that she thought about how many cupcakes she’d eaten in the last ten days, Skye realized why she’d been nauseated. “Hey, it didn’t turn out too bad for my first attempt at making a sugar plum cake.”