by Debbie Mason
Ethan followed the direction of her gaze to the leggy, butterscotch blonde in a black motorcycle jacket, knee-high black boots, and Daisy Duke denim shorts entering the store. Oh yeah, he’d recognize that hair and body from a mile away. And if he wasn’t mistaken, five parking spots over was Jack’s black Harley. It gave him heart palpations just thinking of her on that bike. And not the I’m-so-hot-for-her kind. More like the panic-attack kind.
“Yeah, looks like her.” He hadn’t seen Skye since the Strawberry Social. He’d thought about her… a lot. But hadn’t seen her. He’d been worried about her. Worried enough that he called Gage every few days and somehow found a way to work her into the conversation. Of course his best friend figured out what he was up to and busted his balls. But in the end, he’d relented and told Ethan what he needed to know. She was good and still helping Grace out. A couple of weeks ago, the Flahertys had moved into their new place, and Skye had moved into their apartment above the bakery. A piece of news Gage had been very happy to share.
“I wonder what she’s doing this far from Christmas.” Claudia shot him an uneasy glance. “You don’t think she’s stalking you, do you? We’re a good two hours from there.”
He wished she was. “Since no one’s been picketing our events, I’d say no. Looks like she took Jack’s bike out for a ride,” he said, lifting his chin to the Harley. And that was something he planned to talk to her about. Right. He’d have more luck talking to Jack.
Claudia unbuckled her seat belt. “I think I’ll come in with you. I just remembered a couple of things I have to pick up.”
“Tell me what you need. I’ll get them for you,” he said. He wanted to talk to Skye on his own.
“Um, they’re sort of personal. Feminine products, you know.”
“Gotcha. Come on.” When they reached the entrance to the pharmacy, Ethan held the door open for her. “I’ll meet you at the checkout.”
He didn’t spot Skye right away and searched several aisles before he saw two male clerks hanging around one of the rows. Great—she was in the feminine products aisle. Head bowed, studying the box in her hand, she didn’t notice him. It gave him an opportunity to do a leisurely perusal of the woman who played a frequent role in his dreams. His gaze lingering on her shapely, tanned legs, he didn’t realize Claudia had come up behind him until she scooted past him. “Kendall, what are you doing here?”
Skye’s head jerked up, and she dropped the box. “Ah, I’m…” She scooped the box off the black-and-white-tiled floor and grabbed a couple more off the bottom shelf. Her arms now full, she straightened. “Sorry. You startled me. What are you guys doing here?” she asked with a strained smile, her face flushed. She walked backward, pulling more items off the shelf.
“Campaigning in the area, and I needed—” Ethan began, before she cut him off.
“That’s great. Gotta go. Nice seeing you both.” She whirled around, dropping one of her items as she took off in the opposite direction.
“Is it just me or was she acting more weird than usual?” Claudia asked as she walked over to pick up the box Skye had dropped. “Maybe she’s just really anxious to get home and put these to good use.” She laughed and held up a box of magnum condoms.
* * *
Seriously? She drove all this way to make sure she didn’t run into anyone from Christmas, and she ran into the man she most wanted to avoid. If only she hadn’t put off picking up the pregnancy test until now. In her defense, she’d been busy. Busy in a way that made her think her luck was turning around. She had a place of her own, and Grace had reduced the rent. In exchange, Skye opened and closed the bakery and took a cut in pay. And just last week, she’d signed on two advertisers for her blog.
The cashier stood snapping her gum as she talked on her cell phone. Skye dumped her purchases onto the conveyer belt. “I’m kind of in a hurry, so if you don’t mind…” She smiled and nodded at the cash. The woman ignored her and kept talking.
“Okay, seeing as you’re busy, I’ll give you a hand.” Skye ran the pregnancy test past the scanner, leaned over the counter, and grabbed a plastic bag. “Um, do you have paper?”
“What do you think you’re doing? This isn’t one of those self-serve counters, you know.” The forty-something woman shoved her phone in her pocket, then grabbed the box and bag from Skye.
“Sorry, my mistake.” Skye leaned back to look past a rack of magazines and saw Ethan headed her way. “I’ve really gotta go,” she said, and started sliding her other purchases over the scanner.
“If you don’t stop that, I’m calling my manager.”
“I think you forgot something,” a deep voice said from behind Skye.
She turned, and sprawled across the conveyor belt, leaning on her elbow in what she hoped was an I’m-cool-and-totally-relaxed pose to hide her purchases from Ethan’s observant gaze. He handed her a box of condoms. “Thanks,” she said, tossing it over her shoulder.
“Ow,” the cashier yelped, then pushed Skye. “Get off of there right now and stop throwing things at me. Are you high?”
“Yes, I am. I’m high on life,” Skye said in a voice that sounded slightly manic even to her. She straightened, tilted sideways, and stretched her arms, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the damning evidence was now concealed in the bag. “Beautiful night out there, isn’t it?” she said to Ethan, who crossed his arms and raised a brow. It was a look that she imagined he used in the courtroom to intimidate witnesses. He was a little too good at it for her liking.
“What are you doing?” he asked, using his smooth, lawyerly voice. She didn’t like that voice. At all.
“Kink in my shoulder. Just stretching it out.” She smiled, added one more stretch for good measure, and snuck a quick peek behind her. Thankfully, everything was in the bag.
“Sixty-two fifty,” the woman said, looking past Skye with a flirty smile. “You’re Ethan O’Connor, aren’t you?”
Skye rolled her eyes, then briefly closed them when she realized the amount. What the heck had she bought? She fished out her black AmEx from the back pocket of her shorts and handed it to the woman, who took the card without looking at her. She was too busy batting her eyelashes at Ethan. “I love your ads. Me and my friends are voting for you. We need someone like you representing us,” she said as she ran the card through the machine.
“Could’ve called that one,” Skye said under her breath.
“Did you say something?” Ethan asked, once he’d thanked the woman.
Skye smiled sweetly up at him. “No, I didn’t say—”
“Your card was declined,” the cashier said with a smirk in her voice.
Skye’s smile faltered, and her face got hot. “There must be a mistake.” She hadn’t used that card in almost a year. “Can you try again, please?”
The woman released a loud, put-upon sigh. “I’ll have to call it in.”
Skye avoided looking at Ethan while listening to the cashier. Claudia appeared at his side. “Problem?” Claudia asked.
“No, there’s something wrong with their—” Skye began, then stopped when the cashier hung up the phone, took a pair of scissors from the drawer, and cut her credit card in half.
“You can’t do that,” Skye said, trying to grab a piece of plastic as it fluttered to the floor.
The woman gave her a smug smile. “I can when the credit company authorizes me to confiscate the card. Can you pay or should I put it all back?” she asked, even as she began taking the items out of the bag.
“No, I can pay. Stop that,” Skye said, grabbing the bag and clutching it to her chest with one hand as she dug into her back pocket with the other.
“Are you kidding me, Kendall?” Claudia shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Your father always said you were ridiculously inept at managing your money. He tried to get her trust fund changed because he was sure she’d blow it before she hit thirty,” Claudia confided to Ethan in a superior tone of voice. “I guess you’re lucky you have so much
money, Kendall. No one, not even you, could spend your fortune.”
Wanna bet? Skye thought miserably.
“But you really should pay your bills if you don’t want to destroy your credit rating,” Claudia added.
If she only knew. Claudia had always been jealous of Skye’s fortune. She had no idea that Skye had bailed out Richard when he’d run into financial trouble several years ago. He’d been too embarrassed to go to Skye’s father, so he’d come to her instead. “FYI, Claudia, I forgot to send them my change of address. And really, what do I care about my credit rating? It’s not like I’ll ever need to borrow money,” Skye said in a flippant tone of voice, ignoring the disappointed look on Ethan’s face. She tossed a couple of crumpled twenties on the counter, reaching in the bag to remove a box of magnum condoms and a box of small ones. “Can you take these off the total and see what it comes—”
Ethan handed the cashier his credit card. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, but I’m not taking your money. I’ll just—”
He held her gaze as he stuffed the condom boxes back in the bag, a little more forcefully than she thought was necessary. “It’s worth the money to ensure you’re protected.”
“But I—” She was about to tell him it wasn’t what he thought, but she’d never seen Ethan angry, so she hurriedly said, “Okay, thanks. I’ll pay you back,” just to get out of there.
The cashier snorted, handing Ethan his receipt. “If her pregnancy test comes back positive, she won’t have to worry about protection. At least not for that.”
Skye stared at the woman. She didn’t just say that? Yeah, she did, Skye realized, taking in both Ethan and Claudia’s shocked expressions.
She had to think of something fast. “Oh, come on, you can’t seriously think that test is for me? It’s for Grace. Why do you think I came all this way to buy it? She doesn’t want Jack to know. She wants it to be a surprise if she is. So you guys better keep this on the down-low, got it?” She narrowed one eye and made a gun with her fingers.
Ethan visibly relaxed. “We won’t say anything. I hope Grace gets the news she wants.”
“Oh, God, me too,” Skye said.
Ethan’s gaze narrowed at her as he paid cash for a roll of Tums and a pack of gum.
“Antacids aren’t good for you, you know. They’ll give you leaky gut syndrome and pollute your colon and liver. Try cutting back on the greasy food and sugar,” she said as a means of distracting him. Plus, it was true. “Ciao.” She waved and hurried off, leaving Ethan and the two women staring after her.
As Skye roared out of the parking lot on the Harley, she thought how a session of primal therapy might be just what the doctor ordered to alleviate the stress from her run-in with Ethan and Claudia. She didn’t, though, not with the possibility she had a baby on board.
Three hours later, it was no longer a possibility but an actuality. The stick had turned blue. And sitting on the cold floor in the bathroom of her apartment, Skye indulged in a fifteen-minute primal therapy session. And when she finished screaming, she cried really loud and really hard for a good twenty minutes straight. By the time she pulled herself to her feet and looked in the mirror over the sink, her eyes were practically swollen shut, her cheeks were blotchy, and her nose was red and two times its normal size. She stared back at the terrified, exhausted woman in the mirror and said, “Suck it up, buttercup.”
Chapter Seven
Under trees lit up with miniature white lights, Ethan danced with Samantha Reinhart in the backyard of her father’s Denver mansion.
“Claudia’s giving me the evil eye and so are half the women here. You probably should have danced with someone else this time.” Sam smiled up at him, her platinum-blonde hair brushing against his chin as they swayed to the cover band’s rendition of Jeff Healey’s “Angel Eyes.”
“Too bad. You’re the only one I want to dance with.”
The amusement left her eyes, a vulnerable expression crossing her delicate heart-shaped face. “Don’t say something you don’t mean, Ethan. You broke my heart five years ago. It took me months to get over you. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you this week, but I didn’t fool myself that we could be anything more than friends. But tonight it seems—”
“I never meant to hurt you, you know.” He’d been dating Sam for several months when he’d gotten the call that changed his life. No one knew about the conversation he’d had with his father only hours before Deacon O’Connor suffered a fatal heart attack. Not his mother. Not even his best friend. A month after his father’s death, devastated and guilt-ridden, Ethan had left Sam, his job, and Denver to try and fill his father’s shoes. He’d spent the last five years trying to make amends to a man he’d loved and admired more than anyone else. “It was a tough time.”
“I know it was. I’m not blaming you. You never made me any promises.” Her arms tightened around him. “Your dad would be so proud of you. Do you remember the night we went for dinner at Racine’s?” She laughed. “All he talked about was you running for the state senate. He used up all the napkins on the table mapping out your campaign strategy.”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said quietly, struggling to keep the emotion from his voice.
A flash went off. Sam glanced to her right and sighed. “Look at him. I’ll bet that picture ends up in the newspaper tomorrow morning.”
“Your dad’s not very subtle, is he?” Ethan said with a laugh, relieved to change the subject. “What is it with our parents playing matchmaker? My mother is as bad as your father.”
“They want us to be happy. They’ve had great marriages. They want us to have the same. But you’re lucky my mother hasn’t jumped on the bandwagon. She’d have the church booked.”
“Still hasn’t forgiven me, has she?”
“No, but don’t feel bad. She’s hasn’t forgiven the boy who broke up with me in second grade, either. And she has her sights on someone else.”
“Tall, dark, and broody, who’s shooting me death glares?”
She laughed. “That would be him.”
“Does he have a chance?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s an investigator for the district attorney’s office. You’ll be meeting him shortly. He has some information for you on that blogger, and he had me do a profile. He’s good at what he does, but we didn’t exactly get off to a great start. We went out a couple of times a few months ago, and he went all alpha male on me. He came close to putting one of my clients in the hospital.”
Sam was a psychiatrist and dealt with some unsavory characters. Ethan had prosecuted a couple of them. “He must have had good reason to, Sam.”
“I suppose he did. Not that I’d tell him that. He’s arrogant enough as it is.”
Ethan saw something in Sam’s eyes when she talked about the man. “You should give him a second chance. You deserve to be happy.”
“So do you. You’re not involved with Claudia, are you?”
“No, despite how hard my mother’s working to make it appear that I am.” It was as if Sam’s dad and Ethan’s mother were playing dueling matchmakers in the press. One day a photo of him with Sam would appear. The next day, one with him and Claudia. Ethan had had more coverage in the last ten days than he’d had from the start of his campaign. He couldn’t complain, though. Up until a couple of days ago, he’d had a positive uptick in the polls. Then Envirochick’s latest blog post went viral. He was anxious to hear what Jordan’s investigator had to say.
“I’m glad you’re not involved with Claudia. She’s too much like you. You need someone who doesn’t take life so seriously. Someone who will make you laugh and challenge you.”
She could have been describing Skye. But the night he’d run into her at Walgreens, Ethan had finally realized that while he wanted more than a one-night stand, she didn’t. Any woman who bought boxes of condoms in various sizes wasn’t looking for a relationship. She was too wild, too outspoken, and too free-spirited for him. “Is that your professional o
pinion?”
“Yes, it most definitely is,” she said at the same moment the lead singer crooned “Angel eyes” one last time.
And instead of the words invoking thoughts of the pretty blue eyes looking up at him, Ethan pictured caramel eyes lit up with laughter, and his response came out more terse than he intended. “Then I’m afraid I’d have to disagree, Dr. Reinhart.”
She gave him a surprised look, but her father called them over before she could respond. They joined him beside the kidney-shaped pool that was lit up with red spotlights. Sam’s would-be suitor pushed off the wall and ambled to her father’s side. Tall with a military bearing, his dark eyes were trained on Sam. “Ethan, this is Adam Blackwell. He does investigative work for me,” Jordan said.
“Nice to meet you.” Ethan shook Blackwell’s hand. “Sam was just talking about you.”
“Is that right?” the other man said in a gravelly voice. The corner of his mouth quirked, indicating he got Ethan’s message.
So did Sam, and she gave Ethan a you’re-so-dead look. He grinned in response. Her father didn’t miss the byplay, and he gave Ethan a brief, disappointed look before saying, “I asked Adam to look into that blog for you.”
When the blogger Envirochick took aim at Ethan’s relationship with Albright Energy, his recent gains in the polls began a downward slide.
“Hang on, I’ll get my iPad.” Adam lifted his chin at Sam. “You can fill him in on your profile,” he said, then headed for the French doors leading into the kitchen.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Jordan Reinhart said. Ethan’s former boss, a distinguished man with a thick head of silver hair, gestured to the white wrought-iron table as Claudia joined them.
Ethan held out a chair for her. “Sam’s got some insights to share on the blogger.”
“Thank you,” Claudia said, smoothing her black dress as she took a seat. “I’m glad someone is taking her seriously. She has it out for Ethan. I think we should put her on a watch list and increase his security.”
“I’m not increasing my security, Claudia,” Ethan said, loosening his tie. They’d had the same discussion repeatedly over the past few days. “She may be having a negative impact on my numbers at the moment, but she’s not a danger to me personally.”