by Debbie Mason
Though, in fairness to the man, he texted her every day to see how she was feeling and plead his own case. She hadn’t responded. She hadn’t forgiven him for the hurtful words he’d said in that smooth, emotionless voice in Paul McBride’s bedroom. Maybe if she told the older women what he’d said, they wouldn’t be so determined to marry her off to the man. Then again, he hadn’t said anything she hadn’t heard before. And maybe that was why his words hurt so much. She was worried he might be right.
She shoved the thought from her mind. He wasn’t right, and she was going to do everything in her power to prove him wrong. “How are you ladies doing today? I bet you came in to try Grace’s caramel apple cupcakes, didn’t you?” she said as she made her way around the counter.
If she had to put up with them touting Ethan’s good-daddy attributes for the next twenty minutes, the least they could do was buy something. The women exchanged she’s-on-to-us glances, then nodded and placed their orders. Skye grabbed a pastry box and began filling it with cupcakes.
“Evelyn, Stella, did you see Ethan on Wake-Up Denver today? I tell ya, if I was younger, I’d take a run at the man myself,” Nell said.
Skye closed her eyes and counted to ten in order to calm the uptick in her pulse—an uptick that had nothing to do with the image of Ethan in his golf attire that popped into her head. So what if he was a perfect ten, maybe twenty, in the looks department, and she lusted after him every now and again? In the end, looks didn’t matter. It was what was on the inside that made the man or, in Ethan’s case, unmade him.
“Oh my, yes, Nell, I did. He gave me a hot flash, and I haven’t had one of those in twenty years,” Mrs. Tate said, fanning herself.
Skye taped the box and set it on the counter with a thump. If they didn’t cut it out, her rising blood pressure was going to blow off the top of her head. Obviously Stella didn’t take the hint because she said, “If he asked me to marry him, I wouldn’t say no. And I bet there are hundreds of girls who would jump at the—”
“Okay, you three, I’ve had it,” Skye said, placing her hands on the display case and leaning toward them. “You’re stressing me out. All this pressure isn’t good for me and my baby. I can’t take it anymore. So I’m going to tell you once and for all, I… am… not… marrying Ethan O’Connor. Not now. Not ever.”
“But why not, dear?” Evelyn said, looking distressed.
Skye sighed. She shouldn’t take her frustration out on them. This was Ethan’s fault. She gentled her voice. “Because, Evelyn, he doesn’t love me. And besides that, I don’t believe in marriage.”
“But you’re having the man’s baby. You need someone to look after you. To support you.”
“No, I don’t, Stella. I can take care of myself, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my baby.” Skye hoped they didn’t start listing all the reasons that made her unfit to be a single parent. Late at night, when she lay alone in her bed, Ethan’s words played over in her mind. Her own worries would get the better of her then, and her chest would tighten as she struggled to breathe.
Nell looked at her, and her expression softened. “Skye’s right,” she said gruffly. “It’s not like it was in our day, Stella. She doesn’t need a man to look after her. She’s a smart girl. She can support herself.”
“Thanks, Nell.” Skye gave the older woman a grateful smile and rung up their order. As they were about to leave, Nell leaned over the counter. “Just because you can take care of yourself doesn’t mean you have to, you know. Ethan’s a good man, not to mention damn fine looking. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, girlie.” Nell patted Skye’s cheek, then followed her friends out the door.
Skye didn’t let herself linger over Nell’s parting remark. All she could think as she locked the cash in the safe was that she’d finally put a stop to the matchmakers from hell. They weren’t that bad, she silently amended. It was kind of sweet how they stuck their noses in everyone’s businesses. She snorted. Fine to say now that they were going to leave her alone. She hadn’t been feeling so magnanimous earlier today. As Skye set the alarm and locked the bakery, she looked forward to a quiet night working on her next blog post. She tried the door to ensure it was locked, then turned to…
“Hello, Mrs. O’Connor,” she said, doing her best to clear the frustration from her voice as Ethan’s mother approached with an armload of what appeared to be photo albums and scrapbooks. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thank you.” The fiftysomething woman’s lips curved in what Skye supposed she meant to resemble a smile. She actually looked like she might throw up. “Do you mind if I come up? I’d like to talk to you,” Ethan’s mother said.
Skye nodded and reached for the books. “Here, let me help you with those.”
Ethan’s mother clutched them protectively to her chest. “No. That’s all right.”
Skye shrugged and led the way to her apartment. As she unlocked the door, she realized she should’ve sprinted up the stairs ahead of Ethan’s mother. Skye wasn’t exactly Suzy Homemaker. She moved quickly into the living room, shoving her pajamas, bra, and panties under the floral cushions of the couch. Liz O’Connor entered the room before Skye could get rid of the leftover protein shake and bowl of half-eaten cereal from the coffee table.
“Can I get you something to drink… a cup of tea?”
“A glass of water, if you don’t mind,” Liz said, brushing off the couch before sitting primly on the edge of the cushion. She wrinkled her nose as she delicately moved aside the glass and bowl to put down the albums and scrapbooks.
Heat suffused Skye’s cheeks as she gathered up the dishes and headed into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, sticking her head inside to cool off before grabbing the container of purified water. She checked the glass for spots then poured Liz’s drink. Skye walked into the living room and caught the look of distaste on Ethan’s mother’s face as she took in her surroundings. She cleared her expression when Skye handed her the glass.
“Thank you,” she said, giving Skye a sidelong once-over.
Self-consciously, Skye brushed a speck of white icing from her black uniform pants. There wasn’t much she could do about the spot of red food coloring on the sleeve of her white shirt. And her hair…
“I don’t want to interrupt your dinner. You can eat while we talk.”
“That’s okay. I’ll fix something later,” Skye said, taking a seat at the far end of the couch.
“Have you seen a doctor yet?” She gestured to Skye’s stomach. “You don’t look pregnant. Are you sure you’re eighteen weeks?”
Okay, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Look, Mrs. O’Connor, I get that you don’t like me. I get that you don’t think I’m good enough for your son. I even get that you wish it was Claudia carrying his baby and not me. But if you want to be part of my child’s life, you better get over it.”
“All I asked was if you’d seen a doctor. I was worried—”
“No, I haven’t had time, but I will. And the pregnancy test I took told me how many weeks I am. I’m not worried that I’m not showing. I’m healthy, and so is my baby. Now, if that’s all…” She went to stand up.
“No.” Liz reached for her. “I’m sorry. I’d like to start over. Will you give me another chance?”
For the sake of the baby, Skye gave a tight nod and sat down.
“I’m very protective of my son,” she said, picking up a photo album. “Of all three of my children, really. You’ll understand when your baby comes.”
“I already do. But your son isn’t a little boy anymore, Mrs. O’Connor. He doesn’t need your protection.”
“Please, call me Liz. And you’re wrong, Skye. He will always be my little boy.” She opened the album, smiling down at the page before returning her attention to Skye. “Ethan says you’re not speaking to him. He’s worried about you and the baby.”
“You can tell him we’re both fine. If that’s all you—”
“I know he upset you the day he found out abo
ut the baby. The news took him by surprise. And then he thought you meant to keep the baby from him… You won’t, will you? He’ll be a wonderful father. He loves children.”
She knew he did. She’d seen him with Annie and Lily. And while in the beginning, Skye had planned to hide the baby’s existence from him, once her pregnancy was out in the open, she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep him from seeing his child. “No, despite what you and your son think of me, I wouldn’t do that. Mrs.… Liz, what are you doing here?”
The older woman hesitated, appearing to weigh out her options before admitting. “I’m worried once Ethan confirms the baby’s existence that his conservative base will abandon him. He’s managed the press so far, but it won’t last. I thought if you knew how much the election meant to him, you might reconsider and accept his proposal.” Before Skye could answer, she rushed on. “My husband used to bring Ethan with him when he went to political events.” She pointed to the picture of an adorable young boy with a heartbreaking grin holding a tall, handsome man’s hand.
“He was about five here.” As she turned the pages, Liz told Skye where each of the photos had been taken and what Ethan had been like as a little boy. “Ethan adored his father. He wanted to be just like him. My husband worked in the Ford White House with Richard. Deacon lived and breathed politics. I think he regretted not making a run for the state senate himself. He never doubted Ethan would. About a year before he died, he’d started mapping out Ethan’s political career. He and Richard would have weekly strategy meetings over the phone. Deacon would be so proud of Ethan right now.” She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “Sorry, I…”
“No, don’t apologize. It must have been hard on all of you when you lost Mr. O’Connor.”
“It was, but I think it was hardest of all on Ethan. That’s why this election is so important to him, Skye. It’s his way of honoring Deacon. Making both his and his father’s dream come true.” She leaned over and pulled a piece of lined paper from the scrapbook. “This is the speech he wrote in sixth grade for a public speaking competition. He went on to represent the state.” She passed a well-worn paper to Skye with a look of pride in her eyes.
After she read the speech, Skye understood why. Even at his young age, Ethan showed signs of the man he would one day become. Smart, eloquent, passionate in his beliefs. But Skye wondered if she was the only one who noticed that when he talked about the justice system, giving a voice to the victims, he sounded more like a lawyer than a politician. Liz held up his medal and a picture of him receiving it. Skye smiled at the tall, lanky boy in a rumpled suit with a mop of unruly tawny-blond hair. “He was very handsome, and it’s a great speech. You should have Claudia release it to the press.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll mention it to her,” Liz said as she carefully tucked her treasures away. “Does that mean you’ll reconsider Ethan’s proposal?”
“Your son didn’t propose to me. He told me when and where we were getting married. I understand your concerns, Liz, but we can’t get married just to appease the voters. We don’t—”
“Why not? It can be a marriage in name only. And the baby won’t be born out of wedlock.”
Skye couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Liz, I don’t think that matters anymore.”
“I’m sure your father would disagree with you. I’m surprised he hasn’t called Ethan demanding that he marry you.”
“I, um, haven’t told my father yet.” She’d been putting it off. She hadn’t told him she’d lost her trust fund, either. She supposed it was time to put on her big-girl panties and make the call.
“Seeing as how Claudia and Richard know, you may want to take care of that soon. It’s not something a father wants to hear from someone else or read about in the paper,” Liz said as she packed up the albums and books.
Especially hers, Skye thought. “I will.” Her stomach gave a nervous jitter, and she frowned. It felt like butterflies taking flight inside her. “Oh,” she gasped.
“Are you all right? Is something wrong?”
“I think the baby just moved,” she said, her voice filled with awe.
Liz smiled, her eyes growing misty. “It’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?”
“It’s incredible.” Skye gently rubbed her stomach. “It all feels so real now. I have a little person growing inside me. Hi, baby,” she said, feeling embarrassed when she remembered Liz was still there.
“It’s a very special time for both you and Ethan. I wish you’d reconsider.” Focused on her stomach, hoping to feel her baby again, Skye didn’t respond. Liz gathered up her books and patted Skye’s arm. “I know you don’t have a mother to call for advice, so please, phone me anytime.”
No, she didn’t have a mother. She hadn’t had one since the age of ten. Her father had sent her packing when she put his election at risk. She’d been too free-spirited for him to control and wouldn’t toe the party line. It was something Skye needed to remember, because for a moment there, her resolve not to marry Ethan had weakened. Seeing him as a little boy who dreamed of making the world a better place had touched her. And feeling her baby kick for the first time filled her with both panic and wonder. She wanted to share that with someone, with him.
“Thank you, I will,” Skye said, and got up to walk Liz to the door.
“No, I’ll see myself out.” As she went to leave, Liz turned to Skye. “Do you mind if I tell Ethan that you felt the baby kick, or would you prefer to?”
“I… you can tell him.” It was better if Skye didn’t speak to him just yet. She was too vulnerable, and Ethan could be very persuasive. A dangerous combination.
They said good-bye, and Ethan’s mother left. Skye wondered if the baby had sensed the tension caused by her one-on-one with Liz. Actually, it hadn’t been as bad as Skye had feared. But she didn’t like to think she’d stressed out her baby, and she decided to go through her yoga routine before getting to work on her blog.
She changed into black yoga pants and her sports bra. Grabbing her iPod off the dresser, she headed for the living room. She put in her earphones, and Deva Premal’s melodious voice calmed her almost instantly. Skye felt even better by the time she completed her routine with a headstand, her body relaxed against the wall.
She closed her eyes and let the last of her tension seep through her legs, down her body, down…
“Kendall Skylar Davis, what the hell is going on?” Her father’s furious voice jerked her out of her peaceful state. Skye snapped her eyes open to see him staring down at her. She lost her balance and fell sideways. Her legs took out the table and lamp. She rolled in a ball to protect the baby, and down went her father.
Chapter Eleven
Ethan stabbed the elevator button several times. “Calm down,” Claudia said, rubbing his arm. “I’m sure the baby is fine.”
“I am calm,” he muttered, waiting impatiently for the doors to open. He’d broken every posted speed limit to get here. He’d been in Denver when Gage called to let him know Skye was in the hospital.
It’d been bad enough getting the call about his mother four days ago; this had been worse. And when Gage told him Skye had fallen while doing a headstand—a headstand, God damn it—Ethan made his decision right there and then. No more Mr. Nice Guy. No more giving her time to see that marrying him was the best choice. She’d proven him right, and he’d taken matters into his own hands. Thanks to his connections, he had the marriage license in his jacket pocket and a preacher on the way.
Whether she liked it or not, she was signing the paperwork and they were getting married tonight.
“I understand why you’re upset. But I’m not sure marrying Kendall is the best solution anymore. I think we overreacted when the news first leaked and forgot one important thing. She’s a loose cannon and a rabid Democrat. That hasn’t changed because she’s carrying your baby. You’ve done a good job throwing off the press. All we have to do is get her to agree—”
“My decision to marry her has nothing to do with the cam
paign.” At that moment, it didn’t. His focus was on his baby’s well-being, which meant looking after its mother and making sure she didn’t pull crap like she did today.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were in love with—”
“I’m not,” he said as the doors opened. He headed for the nurse’s station with Claudia following close behind.
“Ethan,” his mother called from the waiting room before he reached the desk.
He backtracked, glancing down the empty hall. “Which room is she in?”
“Four fourteen, but the nurse is with her now. Paul said her blood pressure is a little high and they’re going to keep her overnight for observation. But she and the baby are fine, honey. They did an ultrasound.”
Some of the tension left Ethan at the news. “Why’s her blood pressure high?”
Madison and Gage, Grace, and Nell piled out of the waiting room as he asked the question.
“It’s my fault,” Grace said, looking distraught. “She’s been working a lot of hours this week. I’m so sorry, Ethan. If I had known, I wouldn’t have taken time off.”
“It’s not your fault, Grace,” Madison said. “Skye wanted the extra hours.”
“I’m sure she’s making enough money from attacking Ethan on her blog that she doesn’t have to work,” Claudia sniped.
“Claudia, that’s enough,” Ethan said, although he agreed with her. Not the “attacking” part—Skye had toned down the rhetoric some—but she now had several more advertisers on board. Despite retracting their previous comments linking Skye to Envirochick and issuing a public apology to her in the press, Ethan didn’t believe for one minute that her friend Vivi Westfield was Envirochick.
“Yes, her—” Madison corrected herself “—their blog is doing very well despite someone’s attempt to shut it down. But Skye’s saving every penny she makes for the baby.”
“So what is—” Ethan stopped, his gaze narrowing at his mother when she got a guilty look on her face. “Mom, what did you do?”