“Do you love me?”
The question came from nowhere, almost knocking her to her knees with their power. Unable to stop them, the tears swelled and spilled onto her cheeks and she whispered the biggest lie of her life. “No.”
“Liar.”
He kissed her. His mouth hard and desperate on hers. She tried to order herself to stop, to not kiss him back, but she couldn’t.
Instead, her lips clung.
He slanted his head, deepening the connection.
Their tongues stroked.
His mouth like heaven, her body warmed as tears tracked down her cheeks, melding with the heat of their lips.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, feasting off her like she was the most decadent meal. Until she was breathless, arching against him.
Needing him.
Wanting him.
He gripped her hair in his fist and tore her away. “Don’t lie to me, Cecilia. Tell me the truth.”
It was like a bucket of ice water. She stepped away and he released her, his arms sliding away and taking all his warmth with them. His expression darkened as his mouth firmed. She met his gaze, hiding everything she felt deep inside, letting her ice-queen mask slide into place.
She didn’t have to lie. “I am going to marry Miles Fletcher.”
She braced herself, waiting for his wrath, but it didn’t come.
Instead, he stepped away, his features transforming back into that cold disdain he’d always shown her. “Fine. I’m not going to stop you.”
It broke her heart, because she knew what it meant. She’d severed the bond between them. Crossed a line and there was no going back. She nodded. “Good.”
He nodded back, as though they’d just come to terms on a business agreement. “Let’s agree to stay away from each other for the rest of the trip.”
Her tears dried as her spine straightened. It was happening. This was the end. “Agreed.”
His lips curved into a sardonic twist. “After the wedding, we’ll only have to see each other on holidays. Before long it will be like this never happened.”
It was done. She needed to be alone so she could cry. “Good night, Shane.”
She left him. Turned away from her heart and that future she’d clutched to her last night. Calling on all her years of training, she walked through the door, straight down the hall, into the kitchen and out the back door.
She started to make her way to the river, but took a sudden detour, walking to Gracie’s before she could even process why she was doing it. Her chin quivered as she pounded on the back door.
Sam opened it, took one look at her, and dragged her inside. “I’ll get Gracie.”
She didn’t ask how he knew, but he did.
Thirty seconds later Gracie came into the kitchen.
Cecilia took one look at her and burst into tears.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shane needed something a hell of a lot harder than beer. He needed numb. Complete obliteration. His hands gripped the rail of the porch. Why was she doing this?
She loved him. He felt it in his bones. So why?
He didn’t know. And he supposed it didn’t matter.
He’d seen the determination in her eyes. She meant it.
The door opened, and his chest welled with hope that she’d come back, only to be dashed when Mitch came outside.
He handed Shane a bottle of scotch then sat on the swing. Shane opened the bottle, flung the cap into the bushes, and took a long swallow. The alcohol burned going down, coating his throat and stomach like acid. He rested his body against a pillar and looked out onto the moonlit yard.
It reminded him of his sister. The flowers and trees artistically arranged in a way only she could accomplish.
At least she was getting a happy ending.
He could be grateful to the Rileys for that.
Mitch sighed and pushed the swing with his foot. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
Shane took another drink. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Mitch grinned. “Last year at this time we were drinking scotch, but the situation was reversed.”
Shane scoffed, thinking back to that conversation about his sister and Mitch, a lifetime ago. “I think I liked the last one better.”
Mitch shrugged. “Speak for yourself. I’ve gotta admit, I never saw this one coming.”
Shane’s only answer was another long pull on the bottle. The alcohol seeped through his blood and made his head fuzzy. “Yeah, well, me either.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
He shook his head. “Nothing I can do. She’s insisting she’s going to marry Miles Fletcher. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Mitch scratched his chin, brow furrowed. “She’s always been stubborn like that. But it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. I didn’t think she was capable of it, but she’s got it bad for you.” He grimaced. “It’s painfully obvious. And believe me, I’ve tried hard as hell not to look.”
“Now you know how I feel.” Shane dragged a hand over his hair. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“You think?” Mitch held out his hand and Shane passed him the bottle.
“Yeah.” The word left a metallic taste in his mouth.
“I don’t know, I think I’m going to be stuck with you,” Mitch said, repeating the words Shane had spoken to him last year.
Shane shook his head. He didn’t have any hope. Not with that look in her eye that had told him everything. “Only because you’re marrying my sister.”
Mitch took a long drink and passed the bottle back. “Only because I didn’t let her go.”
“Miles Fletcher is going to be your brother-in-law, so you’d best get used to the idea.” Shane looked out on the yard, his brain finally going numb. “And word to the wise, he cheats at golf, so watch his strokes.”
Mitch laughed. “Never trust a guy who cheats at golf.”
Exactly.
But that was Cecilia’s problem now. It had nothing to do with him.
At Gracie’s house, Cecilia had cried herself hoarse. When no more tears were left, she’d fallen into an exhausted, restless sleep. In the light of day, she’d sat up, disoriented, the comforter Gracie had placed over her pooling at her waist.
Her head hurt, her throat was scratchy, and her eyes were swollen and puffy to the touch. She’d never cried that hard in her life. She’d sobbed. A hysterical blubbering mess, and Gracie had witnessed the entire thing.
The whole, humiliating breakdown.
A couple of weeks ago she would have been horrified, but now all she felt was grateful she’d had someone to turn to.
She got up and padded on bare feet to the kitchen, where Gracie was baking.
Bowl in hand, she turned, a smile on her face that died when she saw Cecilia. “Wow, you look horrible.”
“Thank you,” Cecilia said, stumbling for the coffeepot.
“Here, let me.” Gracie ushered her to a seat and poured a cup of coffee, then grabbed a plate of muffins, setting them in front of Cecilia. “They’re banana nut muffins. I figured you’d need the potassium after all that crying.”
Cecilia’s eyes filled with tears and she grabbed the other woman’s hand. “Thank you, Gracie. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“Of course, Ce-ce. That’s what friends are for.”
She swallowed. She had friends now. Or at least, a friend. A friend she’d lose after the wedding when she went back to Chicago and slipped back into her old life.
Unless she managed to miraculously change her destiny.
Gracie moved back to the counter and started measuring with her big, industrial-size scale. “Maddie’s already called to gossip. I didn’t know what to tell her, so I just said you were fine.”
“Thanks,” Cecilia said.
Gracie started cracking eggs into a separate bowl. “She said Shane and Mitch got rip-roaring drunk and they�
��re sleeping it off.”
Shane. How could she ever face him again?
In went a pound of butter, and Gracie turned to look at her. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s complicated.”
Gracie frowned, but before she said anything, Charlotte knocked on the back door.
“I’ll get it.” Cecilia got up from her chair and opened the door.
Her mom’s expression widened. She reached out and put a hand on Cecilia’s arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, closing the back door to step out into the yard so Gracie wouldn’t be disturbed.
Charlotte’s golden eyes were troubled. “Yesterday, I thought . . . well, it doesn’t matter. I was wrong. Cecilia, is it true? Do you love Shane?”
“Who said that?” She desperately wanted to confide in her mother, but she just couldn’t. Things were already horrible between her parents. If her mom found out what Nathaniel was up to, there was no telling what Charlotte would do. Or who she might tell.
She couldn’t risk Shane.
“Nobody had to,” Charlotte said, pointing a finger at her face. “It’s there in your eyes.”
Cecilia evaded the question. “The plan is still in place. I’m marrying Miles.”
To her shock, her mom’s eyes filled with tears and she pressed a finger to her lips. “Cecilia, no! Please don’t do this.”
“I have to.” Nobody would ever understand, and she’d have to live with that. Everyone would go back to thinking she was just a cold fish, and that was okay.
Unless she could come up with a plan to save him. But right now, her options were limited; there were too many variables, too many facts she didn’t know.
Charlotte gripped her hands, her fingers cold against Cecilia’s skin. “You’ve always fought so hard for your father’s approval. You never quit. You can do anything if you put your mind to it. So I’m begging you to think about this. For once, fight for yourself. Not him.”
All the air was sucked from Cecilia’s lungs as her worldview spun like a top and finally settled back into place with a new perspective.
Isn’t this exactly why her father and Miles wanted her on their side? Because she had skills, valuable skills she’d used countless times to her father’s advantage. Wasn’t this what she’d been thinking about doing? Creating a small firm to deal with these types of precarious, damaging situations?
It was what she was best at and it was time to use that to her advantage instead of everyone else’s.
She had power. And maybe, if she was lucky, she could fix this mess instead of falling victim to it. She squeezed her mother’s fingers. “I will, Mom, I promise.”
And she would, just as soon as she figured out what to do.
Two days later, Cecilia sat in her brother’s small office in her customary power suit. While Mitch was still in a meeting, she looked around the cluttered space.
It was small, littered with law books that ran the length of one wall. The desk was worn and lived-in, the exact opposite of his office back in Chicago, which had been spacious, slick, and understated with the opulence one required from a lawyer who billed over four hundred dollars an hour.
She used to wonder how he’d borne it. How he could stand being shoved away in this tiny, nowhere town, but it made sense to her. He’d changed. He wasn’t part of that glossy world any longer. She used to feel sorry for him, but now she saw him as he really was. Happy. Lucky. He’d found his place in the world.
Would she ever find her place? A place she could sink into?
Shane could be that place for her—she knew that—but she was invisible to him now. She’d moved into Gracie’s spare bedroom and only seen him once. One terrible, tense moment when he looked right past her. She would have believed he didn’t care at all, but she knew him, saw the pain lurking in the depths of his green eyes.
A look she desperately wanted to fix.
The door opened and she blinked back tears she hadn’t known were there. Wiping under her lashes, she turned to face her brother. Over the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, but he was still a stranger.
He nodded, filling the room with that larger-than-life presence he wore like a second skin. So innate to his nature, he didn’t even have to try. His office might be small, but his suit was custom tailored and expensive, reminding her of the man he’d been before.
She narrowed her gaze, studying him. How had he managed to blend the two? Or did Donovan blood have some sort of special ingredient that made a person whole?
One brow rose up his forehead. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She blinked again, waving a hand. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how you were before and how much you’ve changed.”
His mouth lifted at the corners. “Deep thoughts for an afternoon visit.”
“Probably.” Awkwardness seeped between them, filling up the space like sludge. She wished it wasn’t like this. She needed a family now. Something to anchor her, but neither one of them was demonstrative, and she didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
“What brings you here?” he asked, moving around his desk to sit down on a chair that squeaked under his weight.
She started to get down to business, but instead tilted her head to the side. “Do you ever miss it?”
His expression widened before turning to speculation. “Chicago?”
She nodded. “Your old life?”
He picked up a pen from the cluttered desk and gestured her to the chair. “Not anymore, but at first I did.”
She sat on the chair he’d indicated, crossing her hands neatly in her lap. “Because of Maddie?”
“She’s a big part of it, yes. I offered to go back for her, and I would have. But ironically, I would have missed this place. Revival is home now. My life in Chicago is the past.”
Her throat tightened and she huffed out a breath. Now that her emotions had broken free she couldn’t get them back under control. They’d taken on a life of their own. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m happy for you. You did it. You have a real life and I admire what you’ve done.”
“Thank you,” he said, sounding surprised.
She should move on but couldn’t, not before she gave him the apology he deserved. “I’m sorry, for all the things that went down. I wish I’d done things differently.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. It all turned out for the best. And it wasn’t your fault, it was mine.”
She blew out a breath. “I didn’t know about the deal between our father and Thomas until after the fact. But if we’d been close enough for you to tell me what was going on, I could have stopped you from destroying that evidence. Maybe together we could have figured out another way.” She wanted to believe back then she would have done the right thing and helped her brother.
“It wouldn’t have made any difference.”
“I guess we’ll never know now.” That was the thing about the past; it couldn’t be changed.
He twirled the pen in his fingers. “I appreciate the sentiment. But, for the record, I don’t blame you.”
She bit her lip, words she’d never told him welling in her throat. She had to pretend with Shane, but in this, with her brother, she could be real. “I used to be so jealous of you. Did you know that?”
He blinked before slowly shaking his head. “No, I didn’t. Although I can’t see why.”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Simple. You were everything I wanted to be, and you didn’t even have to try.”
He sat back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. “That’s funny, I always thought you were the perfect one.”
“I only pretended to be. It’s always been work.” She took a deep breath and continued, “Our father says I have the brains but lack the passion and killer instinct you have.”
“Shit, Cecilia, I’m sorry.” His jaw firmed into a hard line. “It’s not true, you know.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks,
but she didn’t try to hide them. Not anymore. “For life in politics, yes, it is. I’m learning to accept it. I know he never told you, but he used to sing your praises to me all the time. Always comparing, and no matter how much I worked, how hard I tried, I always came up short.”
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a tissue, getting up and walking around the desk to hand it to her. “He’s an asshole, Ce-ce.”
“I know.”
Unnamed emotions tightened his mouth before he held out his hand. “Come here, you look like you could use a hug.”
She stared at his outstretched palm for several seconds before taking it and allowing him to pull her into a big, brotherly bear hug. She began to cry in earnest and he rubbed a large circle over her back. “You’ve really got it bad for Shane, don’t you?”
She nodded against his chest.
“So what’s the problem?”
She took a deep breath and stepped away. “That’s why I’m here.”
His gaze narrowed.
She clutched the damp tissue in her fist. “I need your help. I can’t trust all my normal contacts. They’re all too close and I can’t risk him finding out. I know I don’t deserve it, but you have to help me figure out a way to blackmail our father.”
Surprise flashed over his expression, then his jaw hardened. “All right, what the fuck has he done now?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Shane walked into the kitchen to find Mitch, Maddie, and Cecilia huddled together at the table.
The conversation cut off abruptly and Maddie’s gaze slid guiltily away.
All his instincts went on high alert.
“What’s going on?” he barked.
He couldn’t even look at Cecilia. Every time he did, desire for her knotted in his gut like a fist squeezed too tight. He was permanently pissed off that no matter how much he tried to talk himself out of it, he still wanted her.
Mitch shook his head. “Nothing.”
His sister chewed on her bottom lip and Cecilia frowned at her before saying, “We were going over wedding plans.”
Unable to avoid looking directly at her, he drank her in. She looked terrible. Back to tired, hollow eyes. In a white blouse and severe knee-length skirt, summer Cecilia was gone. He scowled. “You look like shit.”
The Winner Takes It All Page 27
