by Jean Oram
She tried to shake off the chill and slowly discovered that everyone in the living room was staring at the two of them, jaws slightly unhinged.
Josh gave Simone a quick, uncertain glance, combing a hand through his short blond locks. “Sorry, I overreacted. I’m a firefighter. Sparks. Burning through clothing. Everything’s all right now.”
He leaned over, reaching for Simone’s leg to check the damage, and she let out a squeak as his touch sent lightning crackling through her nervous system.
“Are you all right?” He took a step closer as she backed away.
“Fine. Just cold. Your hands are cold.” She gave a smile that felt forced and raced to the fireplace, before changing her mind and tearing into the bathroom, where she locked herself in. There was no running water and no heat in the small room. A stupid place to run to. But it was the only private place in the old structure and she needed time to collect herself.
“Are you okay?” Hailey called through the door.
“Yeah. Um…” Simone quickly whipped down her pants. “Just checking the damage.” She was fine. Her legs were cold, pink, and the small burns wouldn’t even think of blistering, thanks to Josh’s speedy application of snow.
Hailey tried the knob. “We might have something we can put on it.”
“Uh, no! I’m fine. Really. Just overreacted.” She yanked her pants up again, terrified that Hailey would pop the old door’s lock and see the bruise on her hip from the day’s earlier hurried injection.
“Are you okay? For real? You seem—”
Simone pulled open the door. “Fine! See? Ta-da!”
JC was at the fireplace, sweeping up ashes, one eye on Simone as though he knew all that she was hiding. He set the screen carefully in front of the fire and said to all, “We need to keep the screen in place at all times.”
This guy telling everyone what to do? Not the man she’d been kissing only moments ago.
It was all an act, wasn’t it? Despite his possible soft side, his nose would still get bent out of shape if he saw her bank account. She didn’t have time for dented egos, didn’t have time for men like him.
“Come join us for a round,” Finian called to JC, holding up a deck of cards.
Simone crossed her arms, waiting for her own invitation. Was this a guys-only game? She happened to be a fantastic, utterly ruthless poker player.
Minutes later Maya pulled a grumbling Simone aside, her finger darting between her and Josh, her voice none too quiet. “What’s going on?”
JC, who was organizing his freshly dealt hand, stilled.
Simone raised an eyebrow at her friend. “As in the fact that they didn’t ask us if we wanted to play?”
“Want us to deal you in, Simone?” Tristen asked, head bent over his cards, not looking up. The man was a divorcé and careful when women got ticked off. However, right now it only added to Simone’s frustration. She wanted him to ask before they dealt, not after she made a fuss. She knew she was being an irrational female, but dammit, men had made her this way. It was their fault for making assumptions about her based on gender.
Daphne came closer. “You two have this…” She waved her hands in the air as though trying to get a sense of Simone’s aura. “… this energy.”
“No, we most definitely do not.”
“It’s because you both rescue people.” Hailey piped up from her spot on the long window seat, where she was playing Go Fish with Tigger.
One kiss and the sisters thought the two of them were going to be heading down the aisle. Just because Simone could still feel the heat and pressure from his lips and wanted more didn’t mean the kiss had actually meant something.
Kisses with players such as JC never meant anything.
“Rescue people?” Maya said, waking up her laptop. She was becoming just as bad as Simone—working all the time, although at least Maya was better at not blocking out the entire world around her once she got down to business. Simone had once missed her neighbor’s house burning down because she’d been so involved in a proposal she’d been writing.
“He’s a firefighter—obvious—and Simone is always solving everyone’s problems. They’re both fixers.”
JC was giving Simone a thoughtful look.
“We’re not compatible,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t go for the rescuing type. Too macho and pushy.”
“That’s okay,” JC replied. “I prefer my women to be more open and accepting. Less prickly.”
Simone let out a bark of laughter, ignoring Daphne’s murmured advice about accepting their connection. “You prefer your women to be pliable and big breasted, that’s what you prefer. The dumber, the better. Boss them around and then rescue them at every turn. It would kill you to add some yin to your yang.”
“Sometimes a woman needs to be saved,” he said, his voice flat as he mocked her earlier words.
Simone gasped, stepping forward, ready to fight. How dare he throw that moment back in her face!
“You seem to prefer the kind of man you can walk over,” JC stated. “A man without cajones of his own. A man you can boss around and who will stand down at every raised word. You don’t want a man, you want a lapdog.” He slammed his cards on the table.
“Love, light, and forgiveness.” Daphne gave them worried glances as though she was watching a pencil-pushing office worker try to diffuse something nuclear. “Evander, help.”
The big man was up in a flash, following JC, who had stormed over to Simone. Evander kept his distance, but seemed ready to tackle him if need be. God, she loved her friends.
“Simone!” Tigger called excitedly. “Use the trick I showed you at my mom’s birthday party!” She made a hugging motion with her arms, then hunched her shoulder, suggesting Simone should bind JC’s legs together, then knock him down.
Simone sauntered toward him. “You feel threatened whenever it looks as though a woman might have bigger balls than you.”
JC was close, his breath warm on her face. “You think you know me?”
“I know your type.”
“And what is my type, exactly?” He crossed his arms yet again, giving her a look that made her doubt herself. He’d revealed an unexpected side when they were outside, and while it had taken her off guard, she knew it couldn’t be real. It had to be an act to get her into bed. She’d fallen for it in the past with other men and had learned her lesson. There was no reason to relearn it.
Simone jabbed his chest with a finger, secretly loving and yet hating the way it felt: all muscle. “Alpha. Dominant. Protector. Macho. Male.”
“Aren’t you paying Mr. Alpha Dominant Protector Macho Male three grand to get you home by eight-thirty tomorrow morning?”
Simone clenched her jaw, angry that he’d mentioned their deal in front of the others.
“Well!” Connor said with a delighted laugh. “Simone’s finally spending her signing bonus. Three grand for a Ski-Doo ride! You’re right, Daphne, there must be a connection there.”
“It’s not like that,” Simone snapped.
“Macho man is fine when you’re stuck,” JC continued, “but otherwise I’m not good enough for you? I’m just a thorn in your independent side. Why are you so afraid of accepting help from me?”
“I’m not afraid.”
He leaned closer, his manly scent tantalizing. “I think you’re afraid you’ll lose control.”
“Signing bonus?” Maya asked.
“Lose control?” Simone laughed. “You think your kisses are that amazing?”
“Signing bonus?” Maya repeated. “For what?”
“It’s nothing,” Simone said, realizing everyone was staring at her.
“Nothing? Don’t be modest, this is huge,” Connor said, not picking up on her reluctance to share the news. “She sold her patterns and entire brand to a major designer. Three-million-dollar contract.” He snapped his fingers. “Just. Like. That.”
The room filled with gasps and cheering, and Simone closed her eyes. Nice going,
Connor.
“Sorry, was it a secret?” He looked so worried that she had to smile and let it go, pretend everything was fine even though this was going to open up the floodgates to every secret she had.
“Your whole brand?” Maya squealed, her jaw dropping open. “But what will you do?”
She gave a feeble shrug, knowing Maya understood the implications of what she’d done—sold her entire livelihood. Simone could no longer produce designs in her own name as she’d sold the rights. Anything new she created couldn’t be sold unless under a different name. She would be starting over.
She was changing her life and the Summers wouldn’t understand. She hadn’t had time to prep them for this. And look at their lives—there was no way they could understand. They had everything and she had…nothing now. Nothing but hope and a possibility that kept slipping out of reach whenever she grabbed at it.
“Simone?” Connor asked, looking worried.
“No, it’s good.” Her voice was too high-pitched. Too strained. “Just waiting for the right time to announce it, that’s all. So many fun announcements lately.” She gestured to Hailey’s growing belly, and Maya and Connor, who had eloped.
“Is Kmart still a secret, too?” Connor asked.
Could the man not give her a break? Simone pressed her hands flat against her legs so she wouldn’t bunch them into telltale fists.
“What happened with Kmart?” Daphne asked.
“She sold the subsidiary line of dresses she designed for Melanie,” Connor said proudly.
“Why didn’t you didn’t tell us?” Hailey demanded, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Oh, you know…just business stuff. Nothing as exciting as babies or marriage.”
A round of hugs and toasts were made and Simone caught JC’s eye as she turned to clink her teacup against Tigger’s juice box. He gave her a look that was surprisingly understanding. She glanced back at him, wanting to see it again, confirm that it had been real, but the look was gone.
She couldn’t figure it out, but she wasn’t even mad at him any longer, despite having wanted to rip his throat out only a moment ago. Was it just the hormones, or something else? Whatever it was, she needed to get away, because being around him made her feel as though she was lost in a carnival. Enjoying a sweet and smooth carousel ride one second, pulling punches in the haunted house the next.
“Well, I can’t wait to see what you do with your boutique in the spring seeing as you’ve sold the rights to everything you used to sell in there,” Melanie said, smoothing out her handmade dress.
“What will be your new direction?” Maya asked. “Art gallery? Kids’ clothes?”
Simone fidgeted with her cup of herbal tea, hoping someone would change the topic before she was forced to reply.
“Simone?” Melanie gently touched her shoulder.
“I sold it.”
Gasps of surprise filled the room and JC started laughing. At first it was a light chuckle, but soon became an uproar, so loud and unnerving that Simone wanted to walk over and sock him in the jaw just to shut him up.
“It’s not funny,” she snapped.
“What?” Maya sputtered. “But…what are you going to do?”
“Just…something new,” Simone said.
“What is it?”
“A…a lifelong project.”
“And?”
“Let’s just say it’s a matter of now or never.”
The sisters were silent; the men drifted back to their game of poker.
“Whose turn is it?” Tristen asked.
“Why do you have to be home by a certain time on Christmas morning?” Melanie murmured. Of course the lawyer had noted that little tidbit and had to bring it up again.
“I want to be with my mom.”
“Badly enough to spend three thousand dollars?”
“Yeah, why the time crunch?” JC asked, and she shot him a glare. Not. Helpful.
“A flight somewhere?” Hailey wondered.
“You’re getting married!” Daphne squealed, hands clasped hopefully beneath her chin.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Simone cried. Her inner bitch was ready to pop up and start taking names and numbers. Stupid hormonal roller coaster. But she’d rather be a bitch than cry. And she’d been close to that a moment ago. No crying. No pitiful looks. She could apologize later for being snarky, but you couldn’t take back pity when you spilled tears.
“What’s wrong with marriage?” Maya asked.
The woman was a glowing new bride. She wouldn’t understand. In fact, none of the females in the room would.
“You’re such a catch,” Daphne said. “And pretty. Smart. Determined and independent. Why won’t you accept love and marriage?”
“Daphne, it’s not about accepting it.” Simone avoided looking at JC. “Who am I going to find to marry me?” She hated the way her voice sounded so choked up. She needed to shut up, but she was on the downward thrust of the hormonal roller coaster and gravity was pulling the words from her, leaving her powerless to stop them. “How much time have I spent on this island that’s supposed to have magical superpowers, and yet I’m still single? You say I’m an honorary Summer sister, but obviously the magic prefers bloodlines.” She threw up her hands, then rubbed her eyes, defeat closing in on her. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I even care. Men and I are like oil and water. Nobody is going to love me. Nobody that I don’t make myself. So what’s the point?” She drew a shaky breath. “I give up. I don’t need a man for anything, so why am I even talking about this?”
She dropped into a chair, feeling such turmoil she wanted to stomp out into the blizzard and scream and scream until her throat was as raw as her heart.
The room was silent for a long moment, then Hailey said, “Oh. My. God. Your secret lifelong project is a baby.”
“You’re adopting at 8:30 a.m.? On Christmas Day?” Daphne asked.
“Courts aren’t open,” Melanie replied.
“Who’s the dad?” Evander inquired.
“I’m going to be an auntie?” Tigger asked, bouncing around, trying to catch up with the scrambling adults.
“You sold everything?” Maya was sputtering. “For a baby? Oh, geez. I think I’m going to throw up.” She pushed her husband aside. “No, really. Barf coming through.”
“Don’t use the bathroom!” Hailey called, as her sister headed toward the nonfunctioning toilet.
“A sperm donor?” Melanie asked.
Simone gave a brave nod. “Yeah.”
“You’re getting the baby batter tomorrow?” Finian asked with a frown.
“No, it’s Christmas,” Hailey said, waving him away, her focus solely on her friend.
“A hormone injection,” Daphne suggested, glancing at Simone for confirmation. “You have to stay on schedule.”
Melanie gave her a look so filled with sympathy that Simone had to blink away tears.
“Designer baby?” Maya said, joining them again with a plastic trash can in hand. “I can see you doing that, actually.”
“Oh, quit being dramatic.” Hailey pushed the tub away from her sister’s face.
“But what about love?” Daphne asked, sitting on the arm of a nearby chair as though the very thought had sapped her ability to stand.
“Can I name the baby?” Tigger said. “I have a book of fairy names. Priscilla is pretty.” She turned to JC. “You can choose the middle name.”
“Thanks for thinking of me, princess,” he replied, ruffling her curls. “But I think Simone will want to name her little one.”
“What’s the dad look like?” Tristen asked. “Is he smart? Nice? And why is he giving away his sperm? Or selling it?”
“You’re going to raise this kid? Alone?” Finian crossed his arms as though he was prepared to yank the decision from her hands if he felt it should be done. Ever since he’d revamped his bad-boy movie star image with Hailey’s help he’d grown incredibly protective of anyone close to her. Which was sweet. Unle
ss he tried standing in her way. In which case Hailey better not count on his ability to have more kids.
“She has money, apparently. So why not?” Maya said drily.
“I’m doing this,” Simone stated. “Okay? I’ve thought about it long and hard. So either tell me it’s a fabulous plan or shut up and move aside.”
The sisters leaned back as if one connected unit.
Simone bit back tears, the medical facts explaining her decision stuck in her throat. She really was doing it alone. They didn’t understand. Not everyone found love as they had. Not everyone had their lives fall into place. Some people had to work their tails off and they still didn’t get everything.
JC moved to her side, his touch like a spark; it flared, burning like a lit fuse, streaking through her, looking for a place to explode.
“I’ll get you home on time, Simone. You can count on me.”
She nodded, knowing he was the one person she shouldn’t lean on, but the one person who would get her through.
* * *
Simone sighed, stuffing the soiled paper plates in a trash bag to take back with them whenever the storm decided to let up. She didn’t know what to think of JC stepping in to help. She supposed her acting like a damsel in distress spoke to his alpha rescuer side. It didn’t really matter—her pride could take the hit if he got her home in time.
The wind rattled the shutters and whistled through the odd crack in the cottage’s walls. At least the new generator seemed to be holding up despite the raging storm. She glanced around the kitchen, aware that if she could turn off a few more lights the machine might be able to power the electric heat for the entire night without running out of gas.
Someone short hugged her from behind. Daphne. “I think it’s great you want to add a child to this world. You’ll be a good mother.”
“I hope so.”
Daphne had always made motherhood look simple, even though Simone knew being a single mother hadn’t always been easy for her.
“You’ll do fine. And the fact that you won’t have to worry about money or working will make it that much better.”
“As long as my brain doesn’t turn to mush.” Simone laughed, fighting panic at the thought of sitting around with a baby, no career, and ignoring dress design ideas that came to mind. Plus going from superwoman to stay-at-home mom was such a sudden shift in speed she hoped it didn’t break her internal drive’s transmission.
