“Hi, guys. You two ready to witness the best sunrise you’ll ever see?” Zoe asked.
Caty looked at the basket lying on its side. It was kind of small. Could it even hold them?
“Uh, well, I was wondering, what do you do if the wind shifts and we start to blow out to sea?” Zoe had probably been asked that question a million times. Hopefully. She didn’t want to sound like a chicken.
“That’s a great question. I can raise or lower our altitude to catch the different wind currents to steer the balloon. Right now the wind is blowing a soft northeasterly direction, which should put us about halfway to Bonita Springs.”
Someone needed to loosen the vise in her chest. “Does the basket sway when you’re up there?”
“Not at all. It’s actually really calm and quiet.” Zoe smiled and looked over at her balloon. “It’s like another world that’s full of peace and…awe. It’s hard to explain, but once you go up, you’ll want to go again.”
“Oh, that’s good.” The grip on her chest hadn’t relaxed, but she could swallow again. “Are all five of us going in that tiny basket?”
Zoe laughed. “Nope. The basket can hold up to five people, but I did that just so couples could have some space and not have me in their face. Even three’s kind of a crowd. The guys are our ground crew and will meet us at the landing site.”
Caty looked at Ian, who had kept quiet, but had never let go of her. He gave her a little shrug and Caty loved that he was pressing up against her.
“I guess there’s just one question left. How can we help?”
Zoe smacked her hands together and grinned. “I knew you had it in you.” She turned around to her crew and gave them a hand signal that looked to Caty like ‘fire her up.’ “Okay, guys, it’s a go. Let’s get these lovebirds in the air so they can fly.”
Caty hesitated for a second, pulling Ian closer. “Ian, up there, if I begin to pan—”
“Shh.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, working his way to her mouth. “I’ll be with you every minute, and I won’t let go. I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”
The sound of a fan, shortly followed by the burner, caught Caty’s attention and for the moment her fears took a step back while curiosity took center stage. They watched the balloon fill with air and rise, righting the basket. Zoe climbed in first and when she was ready she called Caty and Ian over. Ian stayed true to his word and didn’t let go, except when they had to climb over the three-and-a-half-foot tall basket walls.
At first, Caty stood with her back to the wall, her nose pressed into Ian’s chest with her eyes closed. A few minutes later, she peeked up at Ian. “Tell me when we take off.”
He bent down and whispered, “We already did. Look, Caty.”
Ian still had Caty wrapped in his arms, but she turned her head and gasped. A riot of colors—purple, pink, red, orange, and blue—bathed the morning sky as a bright light peeked over the edge of the horizon.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said.
They stayed locked together as the sun and the balloon rose higher in the sky, a gentle breeze pushing them along and tickling Caty’s cheeks. If she wasn’t watching the resort below grow farther away, Caty would have sworn they were still on the ground. Every few minutes the burner well over their heads would ignite and blow more hot air into the balloon, otherwise there wasn’t a sound in the world. Silently they sailed over the key, then over Mimosa Harbor and toward Naples.
Slowly, Caty had turned around to lean her back against Ian’s chest so she could get a better view. Not once did Ian let her go.
In his arms she felt safe, courageous and powerful and more. She felt wanted and maybe even loved. They really hadn’t been dating long at all. Not long enough to feel the emotions swirling through her, that was for sure. But apparently her heart and her head hadn’t gotten the memo.
Somewhere over the city of Naples the pressure in her chest had released and her heart had resumed its normal pace, or just a click or two above it. She hadn’t released her hold on Ian, but that was for purely other reasons. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her cheek and rested his head against hers.
“So do you lovebirds want a picture of the two of you with the sunrise in the background?” Zoe had been so quiet up until then that Caty had almost forgotten they weren’t alone.
“Yes.” Ian handed Zoe his phone and together they turned around in the small basket, keeping Ian’s back against the wall.
On the ground the basket had appeared tiny, way too small for three people, but in reality it was almost five feet long and about three and a half feet wide. Plenty of room for all of them, but Caty couldn’t image squeezing more inside. As Zoe snapped the pictures she told them they were only going about five miles an hour, and they’d probably travel about ten to twelve miles before setting down. Caty didn’t ask how high up they’d traveled and Zoe seemed to pick up that this wasn’t information that needed to be shared.
Soon Zoe handed back the cell phone and started messing with the tanks, then pulled out her own cell phone, leaving the two of them to enjoy the scenery and each other.
“The Bonanza is coming up soon. Did you figure out what you’re going to make each day?” Ian asked.
“Pretty much. What about you?” Caty had been experimenting with various recipes to find the perfect one for each category. The event was great advertising at a low cost, which put it right in her budget.
“I’m not going to enter.”
“Why not? I thought we agreed we’d both do this, it’s for a good cause after all.”
Ian leaned against the side of the basket, his gaze on the ever-changing sky, before looking back at her. “Between all the tourists coming in and the orders from Junonia and the Barefoot Brides, I don’t have time for the Bonanza.”
“Uh-huh, and it has nothing to do with going up against me. Right?” She stepped back, completely forgetting for a moment that they were several hundred or more feet in the air, and poked him in the chest. “Tell me the truth.”
“Okay. I don’t want to compete against you. I don’t want this to come between us if I win.”
Zoe had turned her back to give them even more privacy, but Caty could hear her soft snort. She was probably hoping that she wouldn’t have to explain the flying body when Ian hit the ground.
“Pretty sure of yourself there, Doughboy.”
This time Zoe didn’t even bother to hide the snort and chuckle. “Sorry.”
Ignoring their pilot, Caty focused on Ian. “Think your ego can handle it when I win?”
He held up his hands. “I said if, and yeah, actually I can. You’re every bit as good as I am. I’m just saying, what if. Besides, the bakery doesn’t need the exposure. CatyCakes does. If I’m not competing, then you’re a shoe-in to win and all eyes will be on you.”
“I get what you’re saying, Ian, but here’s the thing—I need to go up against you. Five years ago, my chance to prove my talent was sabotaged by my ex. I need this…for me. If you win, that’s fine. At least I’ll know that I lost fair and square.”
Ian lowered his chin, mouth clamped down, and his eyes searched hers. “Okay, deal, as long as we agree that no matter what the outcome, it doesn’t come between us.”
“Game on, Doughboy.”
Chapter Nine
Ian couldn’t believe he let Caty talk him into the contest. Then again, he had learned over the past couple of weeks that saying no to those intoxicating eyes wasn’t easy. Not that he was complaining.
But as he set up his workstation for the third day in the mind-melting heat, he did question his sanity. At least his bakery had air-conditioning. The organizers had set up the bake off in front of the Barefoot Bay Bucks Visitor Center under a couple of giant tents, which helped some, but since they were baking, fans were out of the question. The first two days went well and he was sure Caty was in the lead. Not only could his girl bake, but everyone loved her.
A cool breeze swirled around him. Instinctively, Ian looked around for his gram—and O’Malley, who didn’t leave her side often or for long.
“I see they were smart enough to separate you and your girl.” O’Malley said in his ear. “But you can relax. Siobhan is talking to Caty and showing her baby pictures.”
“What?” Ian craned his neck to look down the row of tents. They’d assigned Mrs. Marks, the librarian, the baking station in between the two of them. The old goat laughed and swirled around him.
“Well then, what are we having today? Key lime? Banana cream? Mince?”
Ian strode to the cooler they’d set up at the back of the tent and double-checked his ingredients, where people passing couldn’t see him talking apparently to himself. “I’m making a summer lemon-berry pie with a graham cracker-pecan crust.”
“Mmm-mm. I can’t wait.”
Ian stopped and looked in the direction of the voice, then shook his head and went back to prepping his station.
“What was that look for?” O’Malley asked. “Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy your baking. Granted it bites not being able to taste, but I can imagine, and if I try really hard I can smell.”
“I’m sorry, Gramps. That’s got to be hard—being around, but not fully engaging.”
“Haunting isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Don’t get me wrong. I got it better than most spirits. I’ve got your gram and you, occasionally Shay can hear me, but most of my kind just hang around their loved ones and the living never know it.”
“I guess I never really thought about it from your point of view,” Ian said.
“But what I wouldn’t give to taste your cooking, boy, or to feel your gram in my arms again. Life is short, Ian. You think you’ve got all the time in the world and then one day you find out the Big Guy has other plans for you.”
“O’Malley, where are you going with this?” Ian had work to do and he really didn’t need all the townspeople to think he was nuts.
“You need to tell that girl you love her and don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about, or give me that nonsense about it being too early. I’ve seen you with her. That feeling? You don’t get many chances at it.”
Ian didn’t have to ask what his grandfather’s spirit meant, nor did he try to argue with him. He didn’t know if he’d call it love, this thing he was feeling, but he’d guess he was well on his way to being there.
There was something special about Caty Kennedy. He’d known it the first time they’d met. His heart had hurt, like the thing was on the verge of exploding, and he’d had tingles running down his spine. Honestly, he’d thought he was stroking out and then she shook his hand and it was like the world imploded in his head. There was definitely a zap, followed by white lights. It’d been so bad, he’d had to sit down or make a fool of himself when he passed out.
At the time he’d attributed it to nerves—he was going on national TV. But then it’d happened again when they’d met the second time at the resort. So yeah, there was something there between them. Something special, something strong and rare.
He didn’t know if it was love. He knew she was the first person he wanted to see in the morning, the last person he wanted to see at night, and he thought of her every waking hour in between. She made him feel like he mattered, like he was the only one in the world and he loved to make her smile. He loved when she laughed and danced and rocked out playing air guitar. And he trusted her. So was that love?
He didn’t have a frigging clue.
But O’Malley did, and he’d found the real deal. The love between his grandparents was strong enough to keep his grandfather tethered to this world. So maybe Ian should listen to him one more time. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get punched.
A whistle blew and Lacey Walker, owner of Casa Blanca Resort and sponsor of the Barefoot Bay Bonanza Bake off, stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending day three of our contest. If you missed the first two days, I’m so sorry. You missed some really good treats.”
The crowd standing around laughed and a few moaned in disappointment.
“But you’re here today and its Pie Day! Not only will our contestants be baking in front of you, but they’ve prepared mini-pies for all of you to sample. So enjoy.”
This time all of the crowd broke out into cheers and clapping. Lacey took a quick bow, as she should since this was her brainchild. “We do have one minor change. Due to unforeseen circumstances, Sheriff Garrison has had to step down as our third judge. However, we are so lucky that one of Casa Blanca’s own guests is a renowned baker and has agreed to fill the vacancy. If you could all give a warm Mimosa Key welcome to Lynsay Sultan.”
“Fuck me.”
“What was that, dear?”
Great. He hadn’t seen his grandmother approach. “Uh, I said fantastic. It’s fantastic that they found someone to fill in on such short notice.” He glanced down the row of tents to where Caty waved. He returned the greeting. “I hear you and Caty have been talking.”
“Oh, yes. She’s lovely. You should bring her to dinner Sunday. I can’t wait to show her the rest of your photo album. She thought you were adorable in your cow costume.”
For fuck’s sake, why did she have to pick that picture? “Gram, promising to bring out baby pics is not the way to get me to bring my girlfriend over. You know that, right?”
Gram patted his arm. “Oh, don’t be silly. Of course you’ll bring her over. I insist. Shay and Colin will be there and your parents said they were coming this weekend too.”
Ian was pretty sure Karma was striking back at him for something. For what, he didn’t know, just hoped it would end soon, starting with Lynsay Fucking Sultan getting back on her broom and flying west.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” O’Malley asked.
“Yes, dear. You’re growling.” Gram patted his arm again like he was a little kid. “Don’t worry, I won’t bring out the photo albums.”
He had to get a grip. But what the hell was Lynsay doing in Mimosa Key? If she thought he was going back to LA and work for her again, she was either stupid or crazy. And no one had accused Lynsay Sultan of being an idiot before. Whatever her reason, he had to put it out of his head and focus on the task before him.
He kissed his gram’s cheek and gave her his full smile. “I’m not worried, Gram. After all, she knows about O’Malley. If that didn’t scare her off, a few embarrassing moments from my past won’t either.”
“That’s my good boy. Now it’s time for me to go check on Shay and Colin. I’ll be back in an hour to sample your mini-pie, so you better save me one. Oh, and you might want to up your game because that recipe Caty is making sounds like its to die for.”
His grandparents headed toward the petting zoo his future brother-in-law had set up, and as Ian watched he saw his grandfather slip his arm around Gram’s shoulder. She must have felt it because she reached up like she was holding his hand.
Yep, Finnegan O’Malley may not have lived long on this earth, but he’d lived and he’d definitely found love.
“Ian.” All of his blood ran cold. “Darling, what a lovely surprise to find you here. Never would I have pictured you in such a quaint little place, but it’s so good to see you. How are you? Oh, we miss you so much back in LA.” Lynsay gave him her signature pout that usually got her whatever she wanted, but not this time.
“Lyn, shouldn’t you be vacationing in the south of France or in some producer’s bed?”
If looks could kill, he’d be spread across the ground.
She glanced down at his workstation and back up, the scowl gone and in its place a sugary-sweet smile. “That’s so last month, darling, and I do wish you luck in this little Podunk competition. You’re going to need it.”
With that warning, Lynsay sauntered her way down the row of tents, stopping to talk to each contestant, laughing and wishing them luck. It was all an act he’d witnessed way too many times. When Lynsay reached
Caty’s tent, she paused and looked back at him, giving a little wink before she turned her slimy charms to Caty. Ian wanted to rush down there and tell the backstabbing bitch to take a hike, but he knew that was the last thing he should do. Show Lynsay Sultan any weakness and the witch would exploit it to the fucking moon and back.
If O’Malley had still been around Ian would have sent the spirit down to mess with the woman, or at least spy on her. As it was, the most he could do was focus on his task and pray, because if Lynsay wanted to, she could ruin everything.
~*~
Day four of the bake off and Caty was walking on air. Oh sure, the first day hadn’t gone quite as planned. Her cookies had looked more like silver dollar pancakes, while Mrs. Marks’s had come out fluffy, soft in the middle and crisp around the edges. In other words, perfect. But day two had definitely been her win with the Jamaican banana bread, and hands down she’d bagged yesterday. Not that the judges didn’t rave about Ian’s pie, but the guest judge had all but orgasmed on the spot when she tried Caty’s. It was almost embarrassing.
But even better…she’d found her bakery location and couldn’t wait to tell Ian. If she could only find him. She’d searched all over the Bonanza, the petting zoo, and called down to the bakery with no luck. She was about to give up when she heard hushed voices, one of them being Ian’s, behind the baking tents. Thinking Ian was talking to his deceased grandfather and didn’t want anyone to see him, Caty slipped around the corner and came to a stop.
Ian was talking with the guest judge, Lynsay Sultan.
It was clear by their body language, facial expressions, and the air around them that she’d stumbled on an argument. She should quietly back away, but her feet were glued to the ground. Too intent on their discussion, neither saw her. Wow, she’d never seen Ian look so...so dark before. She was about to leave when their voices raised and Ian shook his head. He grabbed Lynsay’s arm, but the woman pulled free and stalked off.
Okay, that was weird. What on earth would Ian and Lynsay be arguing over?
Sweet Surrender Page 9
