“Well, that’s just crazy.” Gracie moved around her kitchen, making all sorts of noises. “Why ever not?”
“I don’t know why,” Cecilia said, although that wasn’t true.
Never show weakness. Never break.
But damned if she wasn’t broken now.
The thought made the hysterics start anew and Cecilia covered her face with her hands and wept in earnest. Now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop and she crossed her arms and buried her head and just let the tears fall.
Gracie smoothed a hand over her hair, making all sorts of nurturing noises that salved Cecilia’s aching heart.
When she finally got herself under control, Gracie put a plate with one pink glittery cupcake in front of her. “Have a cupcake.”
“I don’t want to interrupt. I just want to help, okay?” Cecilia said, her voice pleading.
“Hey.” Gracie sat down next to her. “Of course you can help, but first we talk. You’re working on a cry eighteen years in the making, so make it a good one.”
Watery-eyed, Cecilia looked at the other woman, more grateful than Gracie could ever possibly know. “You’re a good woman, Gracie Roberts. You’re just like your mama.”
Gracie squeezed her hand. “I’m not even half as awesome as she was.”
That wasn’t true. “Do you have her chocolate chip cookie recipe?”
“Of course!” Gracie smiled and patted her clenched fists. “You wanna make them?”
Cecilia could still taste the melted gooey chocolate on her tongue, even though it had been far too many years to count. “I’d love to.”
Gracie pointed to the cupcake. “First eat and tell me what’s wrong.”
Cecilia picked up the cupcake and took a bite. Sugar, vanilla, and something she couldn’t discern, but was unbelievably delicious, exploded in her mouth. When she swallowed she looked at Gracie, amazed. “I was wrong. You’re better than your mom.”
Gracie laughed. “You think that because you’ve given up eating and forgot how good things taste.”
“I eat,” Cecilia said properly before taking a very improper bite.
“I bet you eat salads with grilled chicken and nonfat dressing.”
Cecilia wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, her chest lightening considerably.
“You do!”
Yeah, she did. Every day for lunch. The. Exact. Same. Salad. She frowned. How depressing.
She sniffed and put the cupcake down. “Everybody hates me.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Gracie said. “They don’t know you. And I’ve got to be honest, you don’t scream ‘approachable. ’”
“I know. I just feel . . . alone.” The tears filled her eyes again. “It doesn’t make any sense. I never minded being alone before.”
Gracie tapped on her plate as though reminding Cecilia to eat and she dutifully complied. “You’re not a happy bride.”
The pastry turned to lead in her mouth and she had to force the bite down. “It’s complicated.”
She wanted to confide but didn’t. Couldn’t.
In her many years in politics she’d learned a very valuable lesson—always withhold information, even from those you trust. People talk and, sometimes innocently, give up valuable information without meaning to.
Gracie nodded. “But you’re not going to tell me why?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” That statement alone was telling enough to be dangerous and Cecilia couldn’t understand why she wasn’t being more guarded.
Maybe for the same reason she’d cried.
“All right,” Gracie said, holding up her hands. “I won’t pry.”
“Thank you.” Cecilia finished the rest of the treat and wished for another.
Gracie read her mind. She got up and went to the counter, returning with the whole plate. “So, if you don’t want to talk about your wedding, do you want to talk about Shane instead?”
Her cheeks warmed and she grabbed another cupcake, throwing caution to the wind. “Does everyone know?”
Gracie grinned. “Duh! Of course they do. It’s the hottest topic of conversation since Maddie showed up at the bar in her wedding dress. The speculation is killing everyone. Well, not quite everyone. Professor Tight-Ass is as closemouthed as ever.”
That wasn’t a surprise—James had no reason to speculate; he’d seen the evidence in detail. Cecilia nodded slowly. “Professor Tight-Ass, huh? He kind of reminds me of Indiana Jones.”
Gracie stared at her for a full thirty seconds before shaking her head. “Back to Shane.”
All Cecilia’s amusement deflated like a hot air balloon. “There’s nothing to speculate about. Nothing is going on between Shane and me.”
Not anymore.
He’d only touched her a few times. How could she miss it? An involuntary shiver raced through her as she remembered how he’d talked. She’d never hear such dirty things again. She swallowed.
Gracie’s lips broke out into a huge grin and she leaned over conspiratorially. “Come on now, fess up. How is he?”
Temptation ate away at Cecilia’s reserve. She wanted so badly to confess. “I didn’t have sex with him.”
“You did something. It’s written all over you. Now tell me,” Gracie said slyly. “I must know, because I’m sorry, that man is so hot he must fuck like the devil.”
Cecilia coughed, choking on the frosting she’d licked off her finger. Then surprised laughter bubbled out. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t know.” Curiosity got the better of her, and before she could stop the words she blurted, “You should have found out yourself.”
Gracie waved a hand. “It’s not like that with us. He’s gorgeous and sexy and he’s fun to flirt with, but we have no heat.”
Cecilia picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t know about that. You seem completely compatible to me.” Three days ago she’d never have probed, but now she couldn’t stop. Gracie had always made her forget about being polite.
“We are,” Gracie said, her smile turning sly. “But you know that tension you have whenever you’re in the same room with him? That pull?”
Cecilia kept her eyes wide-open, hoping to pass for innocent.
Gracie shook her head. “It’s so obvious, Ce-ce.”
“It is?”
“It about smacked me in the face that day you first showed up. Come on, admit it.”
“All right,” Cecilia said, trying to sound breezy. “I’m familiar with the tension to which you are referring.”
Gracie chuckled. “Well, aren’t you a blabbermouth?”
A smile quivered at Cecilia’s lips.
Gracie gave a big sigh and continued. “Shane and I, in the same room, are easy and comfortable. If I slept with him it’d be Charlie all over again.”
“You were with Charlie?” Cecilia slipped another cupcake onto her plate then helped herself to a glass of milk.
Charlie Radcliff had been her brother’s best friend since he’d moved in with his aunt across the street when they were teenagers. Cecilia hadn’t seen him in ages. Back in high school he’d been tall, dark, and very mysterious, and had driven all the girls crazy. “He was the quintessential bad boy when we were growing up. I didn’t know you were together.”
“Yeah, we were, kind of.” Gracie ran a hand through her wayward mess of blond curls. “It’s a long story.”
“Tell me,” Cecilia said, anxious to think about something other than her own problems.
“I wasn’t in the market for a relationship. I was getting my business off the ground and barely had time to think. Men were the furthest thing from my mind. But then Charlie showed up.” She grinned, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’ve seen him?”
Not for a long time, but Cecilia got the gist. “Indeed.”
“We kind of just fell into it. He liked sex. I liked sex. He didn’t want commitment. I didn’t want commitment. It was a match made in friends-with-benefits heave
n. And it worked, for a very long time. Until one day I realized I’d stopped looking for anything else and he’d become a habit. I started to feel . . .” Gracie trailed off, her brow furrowing as she seemed to search for the right word.
“Stuck,” Cecilia finished for her.
“Yeah, stuck. And after Mitch and Maddie got together . . . Well, I’m ecstatic for them and she’s the best thing that ever happened to your brother, but the way they are together—” She shrugged. “Well, you know.”
A longing she kept trying to ignore whispered through her. “I know.”
“I started to wonder if maybe there wasn’t more to life than cupcakes and good sex.” She leaned forward and glanced around the kitchen as though someone might be eavesdropping. “I want someone to look at me that way.”
“I understand,” Cecilia said, her voice soft. Was that what she wanted too? Was that why she was so restless and out of sorts?
She didn’t know anymore. Before she’d come back to Revival her life had been perfectly clear and mapped out. She’d known exactly where she was going and what she needed to do to get there. She’d never questioned what she wanted. She’d had the same end goal—to run for office—since she was six.
Now, nothing was clear. And every time she started to examine that life map, she tucked it away instead and ignored it.
“And you know the really sad thing,” Gracie said, picking up a cupcake and peeling the paper off. “Ending it was no big deal. We slipped right back into friendship as though we’d never given each other orgasms at all.”
Cecilia’s brow furrowed. “That’s a bad thing?”
“Well, yeah, it is when you spent two years with the person. Shouldn’t there be even a little drama? A sense of loss?”
“Good point. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“I love him, he’s one of my best friends, but I wish I hadn’t spent so much time just settling.”
“But you made the change, and that’s what’s important.”
Gracie tilted her head to the side. “You know, you’re good to talk to.”
Cecilia blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback. “I am?”
“I didn’t even know that stuff was weighing me down.” Gracie narrowed those clear sky-blue eyes of hers. “But don’t think I didn’t notice we need to talk about you and Shane.”
Her stomach dropped like a lead weight. “There is no Shane and me.”
“So that’s why he was so angry he drank half a bottle of scotch and passed out cold?” Gracie shrugged. “Makes perfect sense.”
Cecilia weighed the consequences, deciding confessions about Shane weren’t the same thing as revealing her true relationship with Miles. Unable to resist, she peered over her shoulder to make sure nobody was listening. When she was sure the coast was clear, she leaned closer to Gracie and whispered, “He kissed me a few times.”
Gracie scowled. “That’s it?”
“Well, maybe a little more.” But not enough to satisfy her.
“How was it?” Gracie’s eyes danced. “He looks good.”
Cecilia flushed just thinking about all the heat between them, simmering like a pot about to boil. “It was awesome. I don’t even know what came over me.”
Gracie slapped her hand on the table. “I knew it! Just how dirty is he?”
Cecilia laughed. This was so inappropriate, so unlike her, but Gracie had caught her up in the excitement and now she couldn’t stop. “He’s quite a . . .” She searched for the right word and finally settled on, “Talker.”
Gracie sighed, a deep, long sound. “God, I miss dirty sex.”
“Do you?” Cecilia straightened and took a sip of milk. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had dirty sex.”
“Well, Ce-ce, let me tell you, it’s a must, especially with a man like Shane Donovan. Trust me on this.”
Cecilia frowned, all the cupcakes she’d eaten turning to a lump of coal in her belly.
She’d never get the chance now.
Chapter Eleven
The day had turned to shit.
Shane’s eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. Everything that could go wrong had. Instead of passed out in bed, he’d been on the phone constantly. As his mom always said, there was no rest for the wicked, and damned if that wasn’t the truth.
The newly appointed head of city planning was making this deal as difficult as possible. He didn’t like Shane after some mishap Shane couldn’t even remember.
The guy was a prick. And today he didn’t have the patience.
Shane shook his head and said to Penelope, “Why did George have to have a heart attack?” He’d been doing contracts with the former planner for years without any problems, but this new guy had a real hard-on to screw him over.
Penelope, who’d been by his side, laptop at the ready, pushed her glasses up her nose. “Too much bacon?”
Frustration, mixed with the alcohol he’d consumed last night, was like battery acid in his gut. “Do you think he’s going to pull the deal?”
A slice of panic, old and familiar, cut through him. If the guy pulled the contract, Shane would be forced to do layoffs. The city was 30 percent of his revenue. He wouldn’t be able to reallocate the staff with that kind of loss.
Those people depended on him to feed their families.
Penny pressed her lips together. “I think he’s going to try. But your relationship with the mayor is strong. We’re honest. We deliver on budget and on schedule. Every time. He’ll need a good excuse and won’t be able to find one.”
“Let’s schedule time with the mayor to cover our bases.”
Penelope nodded, jotting a note into her computer.
The phone trilled, causing the dull ache in his head to throb like a drum against his skull. Thankfully it was the house phone, and not his cell signaling another disaster, and he relaxed fractionally.
Penny patted him on the shoulder. “Let me get you more Advil.”
“Thanks, Pen,” Shane said, appreciating her fiercely. As always, she made his life better with her ruthless efficiency.
Thank God he’d had the good sense to listen the day shortly after Penelope had graduated from college, when she’d ambushed him in his office and convinced him he couldn’t live without her. As Maddie’s best friend, he’d grown up with her and been resistant as hell, but she’d talked him into it and he’d never once regretted it.
Today, with one problem after another, and him dull-witted from his hangover, she’d been on top of everything, pulling up e-mails, spreadsheets, and fact documents like a quick draw the second he needed them.
Bleary-eyed, he looked at her. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
She laughed. “I’m going to take you up on that before your hangover recedes and you’re back to telling me I’m a pain in your ass.”
Just as Penelope turned to leave, Maddie entered the office.
He raised a brow. “What’s up?”
“Are you going to let her go for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Be nice, he’s had a rough day,” Penelope called as she went off in search of his much-needed pain relief.
Maddie pointed to the desk phone. “It’s for you.”
Shane frowned. “Who is it?”
“Gracie.” Maddie propped herself on the door frame, making it clear she planned to listen.
He put his hand on the receiver and jutted his chin toward the hall. “Would you get the hell out of here?”
“Jeez, you’re in a bad mood.” Her tone irritating in that way only little sisters had. With a swish she waltzed out of the room, leaving him blissfully alone.
He picked up the phone. “Hey, Gracie, what’s up?”
“I’m going to be nosy,” Gracie said with no preamble. “I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t care. I’m butting in.”
Any last remnants of Advil wore off in a whoosh. For fuck’s sake, now what? He dragged a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t need any
more bad news right now. He could barely think, let alone clean up any messes.
“It’s Cecilia,” Gracie said.
“What happened? Is she all right?” Jesus Christ, he couldn’t handle it if something happened to her.
“No no, she’s fine,” she said in a rush before pausing for a few beats. “So it’s true.”
“Focus, Gracie.” The words like bullets.
“You’ve actually got it bad for her, don’t you?”
No. Sure, he lusted after her, but he’d lusted after women before, and would again. Yes, he was furious and doubted his ability to be in the same room with her without ringing her neck or fucking her into oblivion, but that was because he felt like a fool. She’d made him believe she wasn’t an ice queen, that she burned hot just for him.
But he didn’t have it bad for her.
He’d get over this strange fixation and things would go back to the way they’d been before he’d been forced to live in the same house with her. He clenched his hands into fists.
Except, she’d have a husband with her.
The thought was like an uppercut to the jaw, sending off another round of pounding in his head. “Gracie, would you get to the point?”
There was a long silence over the line. “Okay, but you have to promise me you won’t ask me any questions.”
“Fine.”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“I said okay.” She was working on his last nerve.
There was shuffling over the phone. “Because Cecilia opened up to me, you know, like back when we were kids.”
“What. Happened?” Slow, measured, I’m-at-the-edge-of-my-patience words.
“Do you promise not to say anything?”
“Jesus. What do you want me to do? Pinky swear? Cross my heart and hope to die?”
“You don’t have to get snippy about it,” Gracie said, indignation ripe in her tone. “I’m doing you a favor.”
God save him from this bunch of crazy women.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, regaining control of a perilously frayed temper. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t say anything. Now, will you please tell me?”
“Okay,” she said, her voice dropping down to a whisper. “Cecilia cried.”
The Winner Takes It All Page 12
