“If you want to come around...I won’t turn you away,” he said slowly as if he couldn’t believe he was making the admission. “Dad’s another story. I don’t want to see him. Not for a while.”
His mom nodded. “I understand.” She looked around and her shoulders relaxed. “You’ve got a really nice place. You have done well for yourself.”
Travis shifted and shrugged. “Umm...we were just about to eat. You’re welcome to stay.”
Juanita said she couldn’t stay long, but she did ask Travis about his recovery. India left them alone and went into the kitchen to finish dinner. When she came out of the kitchen, Juanita was gone. Travis sat on the edge of the sofa with his head in his hands. India immediately rushed to his side.
“What happened? What’s wrong? Did she say something? I swear, if she said something to hurt you—”
Travis let out a surprised laugh and raised his head. His eyes were wet. “She said she loves me.” He sounded astonished. “I don’t think she’s said that since I was little.”
India’s heart squeezed. “Travis...” She didn’t know what to say. The wary hope in his eyes brought tears to her own.
“Do you think...after all this time... I don’t know if I can believe her.” He shook his head.
India wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “One day at a time. That’s all we can do.”
He smiled and faced her. He kissed her so hard they were both breathless when they came up for air. “I love you, India. Thank you for being here for me. And, thank you for being willing to toss my mom out if she hadn’t come in peace.”
She grinned and wiped the lone tear that leaked from his eye. “There’s no need to thank me. Just promise me you won’t get shot again.”
He pulled her closer. “Not if I can help it. I need a lifetime with you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“I THINK WE can call it!” Byron’s campaign manager, Roy, yelled out to the crowd of supporters.
Cheers went up. Streamers and confetti fell like multicolored snow over the people in the downtown restaurant where Byron waited for the primary results. Projected on the walls were the numbers from the polls. Byron was up by 54 percent and most of the polls were closed.
India joined in with the cheers. Her brother had done it. He was one step closer to making his way to the Senate and she couldn’t be prouder of him.
Elaina was next to her. She raised a champagne glass as Byron went on the stage set up at the front of the restaurant and hugged Roy. She turned to India and placed a hand on her arm. “I’m going to go up there with him.”
“Go ahead. I’ll wait until things die down to congratulate him,” India replied.
Elaina nodded, then wove through the crowd to the stage. In the eight weeks since everything had come to a head, she’d expected things to be strained between her and Elaina. They weren’t. Elaina either really didn’t care about India and Travis being together, or she was a supreme actress. The thing was, India couldn’t really tell when it came to Elaina. She was just glad her sister didn’t hate her.
A hand pressed against the small of her back. Travis. She’d know his touch anywhere. “Your brother did it.”
Her body sizzled where he touched her. They were no longer hiding their relationship with the family, but they were keeping things under wraps publicly. They’d agreed to not steal the focus from Byron during the primary run, but not being with Travis in public was hard.
“I know. I’m so proud of him.” She leaned in closer to Travis.
“I am, too. He seemed worried earlier tonight.”
“About the election?” She’d noticed Byron had seemed a little off, as well.
Travis’s hand rubbed her back. Tingles went through her body. “No, something else is going on, but he and Roy are keeping it close to their chest.”
India frowned. “I hope it’s not too bad.”
Travis moved and blocked her view of the stage. “I don’t care about campaign things anymore. The primaries are over. Your brother won. You know what this means?”
“That we’ve got an even bigger climb to the election?”
Travis grinned and shook his head. “It means that we don’t have to hide anymore.” He wrapped an arm around her waist.
India glanced around and put a hand on his chest, but she didn’t push him back. “Travis, he just won.”
“India, I’ve waited long enough. Life is short and there are no guarantees we’ll see another sunrise. I love you. You are the person I think of every minute of every day. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve honored your family’s wishes, we’ve done everything they asked, but please don’t ask me to wait any longer. Tell me you love me.”
Her hand on his chest wrapped around the lapel of his suit. Whenever she thought about him in that hospital bed, how he’d almost been taken away, her throat wanted to close up. “You know I love you.”
“Then marry me.”
“I am going to marry you.” They’d talked about marriage while he recuperated. After almost losing him to a bullet and getting Elaina’s blessing, she hadn’t thought about not marrying Travis.
Travis shook his head. “Not in the future. Marry me tonight?”
She drew back. He couldn’t be serious. “Tonight? How?”
“Vegas.”
“Are you joking?” she said with a laugh. “We can’t go to Vegas tonight.”
He lifted one shoulder and pulled her closer, the strength of his body so tempting against hers. “Why not?”
“The party. The family. The...” She couldn’t think of other reasons.
“The party will go on without us. Your family only asked that we keep things under wrap until tonight.”
“But...” The excitement to do exactly what she wanted fought to overrule all reasons to say no.
“India, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I don’t want to wait another day.” Fierce love shone in his eyes. “I almost lost my chance to be happy. You don’t know how scary that was.”
“I was petrified.” She dropped her head to his chest. She didn’t want to think about him dying.
He lowered his head and kissed her ear. “Then let’s go. Let’s not wait anymore. Marry me, India. Tonight.”
She lifted her head and looked around the room. Byron celebrated onstage. He was giving a speech. Her dad and Patricia were wrapped in each other’s arms in a corner. Everyone was happy and celebrating the win. No thoughts of tomorrow. No fears about what could go wrong.
India slid her hand up to where the bullet had hit Travis in the shoulder. Everything could go wrong in the blink of an eye. Her answer was as strong and steady as Travis’s heartbeat beneath her palm. She didn’t want to wait a minute longer either. Their time had come. Finally, there were no excuses. She was going to hold on to forever.
She looked up and met Travis’s eyes. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Scandalous Secrets by Synithia Williams.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FIRST AND FOREMOST, I have to thank the Destin Divas. Specifically, K.D. for listening as I talked about this story walking on the beach and Seressia for giving me a mental kick in the pants when I said I didn’t think this idea was good enough. You ladies are such a support system to me, and I wouldn’t have finished this story without your encouragement.
Thank you to my awesome agent, Tricia Skinner. It’s nice to have someone on your side in this business, and I truly appreciate your efforts on my behalf.
Thank you to my fantastic editor, Michele Bidelspach. All of those words of encouragement sprinkled in with your edits made me smile and your suggestions pushed me to work harder to make this story better.
Finally, to my family. I love you with all of my heart. Thank you for always being there.
Scandalous
Secrets
by Synithia Williams
CHAPTER ONE
BYRON WAS AT the top of his game.
His heart pumped with exhilaration. His cheeks hurt from the smile that refused to leave his face. He stared out at the crowd surrounding the stage, and the eyes looking back at him were bright with enthusiasm, hope and determination. Signs with the green and blue logo of his campaign flowed like waves in their hands. A blend of people from all races, economic classes and social backgrounds packed in the brewery he’d chosen to hold his watch party.
And he hadn’t let them down. The results were in. He’d won.
The fervor of his supporters was like a tidal wave. Bowling him over with its strength. He’d done this. He’d actually gotten this far. The primary win wasn’t a guarantee he’d make it to the Senate, but he had lasted far enough to beat out an opponent with experience as a state legislator and a much longer record of public service. The weight of responsibility to live up to the expectations of the people who’d voted for him, the people who were currently cheering for him, was something he refused to take lightly.
“I promise you,” Byron said into the microphone. In his periphery, Roy, his campaign manager, took a step forward. Byron could hear Roy’s warning in his head. Never make promises in a speech. They come back and bite you in the ass. Byron didn’t care about that right now. This was a promise he planned to keep.
Byron held up a finger and shook his hand with each word. “I promise you I will not forget the trust you all have honored me with tonight. We have gotten this far, and we will keep going all the way to Washington. No more waiting for tomorrow. The time is now!”
The crowd cheered. They held up and waved his signs and repeated his words. “The time is now!” The campaign slogan had come about during a debate after his opponent, state senator Gordan, insisted the time wasn’t right to try and fight the administration on progressive ideas. Byron’s immediate comeback had been that fifteen years was too long to wait, and the time was now.
A slim hand slid into his left one and squeezed. Byron turned from the crowd toward his fiancée, Yolanda. Her brown eyes were filled with pride. Tall, graceful and perfectly polished in a tasteful green blouse and navy pants—to match his campaign colors—she complemented him. As Byron wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, anyone looking at them would see a young, optimistic couple deeply in love.
Byron didn’t miss how the gleam of triumph overshadowed the pride in her eyes. Yolanda was a woman on the way to making partner at the reputable legal firm she worked for. A position beneficial for the wife of North Carolina’s newest senator.
Byron leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. She placed a hand on his cheek. Her nails lightly scratched the beard he’d grown during the last weeks of the campaign. Her gentle reminder to cut the damn thing, before she pulled back and grinned wider. “We did it,” she said.
He slid his arm back and entwined their fingers. “Yes, we did.”
They waved and shook hands as they made their way off the stage. The band played upbeat music. Champagne corks popped throughout the building and more beer poured from the tap. The party would start now, along with the real work. He needed to finalize the strategy against his opponent. Brainstorm the best way to reach the digitally disconnected constituents in his district. Figure out the best way to utilize his family to spread his message throughout the district. Develop a plan to be more relatable to his constituents. Something even more necessary now that his best friend and former brother-in-law had plans to remarry into the family. This time with a different sister.
“I know that look” came a booming male voice.
Byron shifted and faced his father. Grant Robidoux had a Robidoux Tobacco cigar in one hand and the other slammed down hard onto Byron’s shoulder and squeezed. His dad was what Byron imagined he’d look like one day. Skin the color of dark honey slightly lined due to age, light brown eyes, and curly hair with just enough salt and pepper to make people say he looked distinguished. Pride radiated off him like sunbeams as he studied Byron’s face.
Byron took the glass of champagne Yolanda handed to him off the tray of a passing server. “What look is that, Dad?”
“The I’m-already-planning-the-next-step look,” Grant said, pointing his cigar at Byron. “Not tonight. There is enough time for strategy tomorrow. Tonight, you enjoy the win.” He winked at Yolanda. “Enjoy the company of the beautiful woman at your side. The real fight is about to begin. Give yourself this moment to bask in the glory.”
Yolanda raised her glass and tapped it against Byron’s. “I agree with that.”
Byron forced the massive list of things he needed to do to the back of his mind. Taking a second to enjoy this milestone wouldn’t hurt. “Fine, I’ll sit back and enjoy this win, but I’m starting early tomorrow.” He glanced around the crowd and caught the fierce glare of his older sister. “Uh-oh.”
Grant’s brows drew together. “Uh-oh? What’s wrong?”
“Elaina is scowling. Do you know why?” Nothing good ever followed one of Elaina’s scowls. She’d just been smiling and clapping with the rest of his supporters.
Grant’s gaze shifted away. He brought the cigar to his nose and sniffed. “No idea.”
“You’re lying.” Byron didn’t hesitate to call his dad out. He loved and respected his dad more than any other man in the world, but he also knew when Grant tried to keep something from him. “What happened?”
Grant shrugged. “Nothing big. India and Travis ducked out right before your acceptance speech, and she’s worried they’ve run off and done something stupid.”
Byron relaxed. “They’re probably just getting out of here to spend a few minutes alone together. I don’t blame them after we spent the last few weeks pretending as if they weren’t together. You tell Elaina to do exactly what you told me. Enjoy the win and strategize tomorrow.”
Byron wasn’t concerned about his younger sister and best friend leaving his party early. They were crazy about each other—God help them—and they wanted to spend time together. Elaina being upset, well, that made more sense. Even though she’d given her blessing to India and Travis after discovering they were together, the situation was still awkward as hell.
“Why do I have to tell her?” Grant asked, sounding genuinely put out.
Byron lightly hit his father’s shoulder. “Because it’s my party and I don’t want to.” He wrapped his arm around Yolanda’s shoulders and maneuvered her away from his dad in the opposite direction of Elaina.
“You know you were wrong for doing that,” Yolonda said, chuckling.
“He’s the one who told me to relax. Dealing with whatever is bothering Elaina is not my idea of relaxing.”
Yolanda sighed and leaned farther into him. “I still can’t believe you’re okay with India and Travis. God knows how we’re going to smooth over this situation with them in the media. We don’t need anything smearing your campaign.”
“Don’t worry. This won’t smear my campaign. If anything, it’ll show how well our family works together.” Or reveal just how cracked we are beneath the polished exterior.
Byron caught the eye of one of his larger donors. He smiled and waved and moved in that direction. He added worrying about his family’s image to the long list of items he’d have to overcome if he hoped to win in November.
Yolanda dug her feet in and stopped him. Her eyes were serious as they met his. “I’m not playing about this. We have to be delicate moving forward. I’m with you to win. Not to let the soft spot you have for your baby sister and best friend derail this train.”
Yolanda’s words were pragmatic as always. Her practicality and ability to strategize was why he’d agreed to this engagement, but that didn’t stop irritation from crawling up his spine. Happiness was hard to obtain. So why get in the way when two people he cared about actually foun
d it? He may not be a proponent of true love, but he also wouldn’t begrudge those who were.
“I know why you’re here,” he said. She reminded him at least once a week. “We need each other, and it’ll take both of us to win. Don’t worry about India and Travis. That won’t be the thing that kills my campaign.”
“Byron! Congratulations!” The happy voice of the donor whose eye he’d caught a second ago.
“Hello, Mr. Sparrow. Mrs. Sparrow, so good to see you again.” Byron grinned and shook hands.
Yolanda’s face became a mask of blissful happiness as they talked and schmoozed their way through the party. This was their future. He’d known what he was getting into when his campaign manager mentioned that proposing and marrying would make him a more viable candidate.
So why was it bothering him tonight?
Things were going the way he wanted them to. Yolanda’s business ties, along with her family’s history in politics, combined with his family’s wealth and influence was political gold. On top of that, he liked her. She was driven, attractive, passionate and had let him know from their very first date she wanted to help him on his rise to the top. Yolanda was a woman who knew her own mind and didn’t apologize for going after what she wanted. He’d never have to guess where he stood with her.
Movement in his periphery caught his eye. He turned and his entire body went rigid. Guess everything wasn’t going as planned tonight. Dominic, the consultant he’d hired to help with his campaign, made his way toward Byron, his expression grim and his dark eyes blank.
Nothing good could come of Dominic showing up tonight. He’d hired the guy months ago to handle a situation from his past, one that Byron had paid a lot of money to hopefully fix. Dominic kept in touch to let him know if anything popped up. Mostly via email and the occasional phone call. Never in person.
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