Another knock and a woman entered with a tray of pink and blue frosted cupcakes.
“I don’t mean to interrupt. I’m from the bakery. My grandmother, the baker, heard both brides went into labor, and, since you didn’t get to have any of your wedding cake, she wanted you to have these.”
The entire wedding had relocated from the gardens to the hospital, but the cake had been left behind in the melee.
Nick stared at the woman. Tall with jet black hair. He’d seen her before. He glanced at Lindsey who was smiling ear to ear.
“Junior kids’ camp counselor, Monica Brandt, is that you?” Lindsey asked.
The woman gasped. “Lindsey Hanlon!”
“It’s Lindsey Kincade, now.”
“You married Brad Pitt and Justin Timberlake’s lovechild! Congratulations!” Monica replied.
“When did you get back to Langley Park?” Em asked Monica. “I didn’t know you were coming home.” Em turned to Lindsey. “Monica grew up in Langley Park. She and Michael’s cousin, Gabe, used to—”
A striking man with dark features and Sam’s jawline entered the room. “I’m here. I’m so sorry I’m late. My flight from New York got delayed.”
“Gabe!” Em called out. “You made it.”
The man looked around the room. His gaze landed on Monica.
Gabe opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say another word, Monica grabbed a cupcake and smashed it into his face.
“Congratulations on your weddings and your new babies.” Monica wiped crumbs off her hands then whipped around and left the room.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” Gabe said, wiping frosting out of his eye.
He followed Monica out, and the room was quiet for a beat.
“What was that all about?” Lindsey asked.
“Imagine a tornado colliding with a tidal wave,” Zoe said, sharing a look with Sam.
“That about sums those two up,” Sam agreed.
As if they sensed the attention wasn’t on them, Skylar Kincade and Billy MacCarron released ear-piercing cries.
Nick rocked his daughter. “We haven’t forgotten about you,” he said, sitting on the edge of Lindsey’s hospital bed.
The door to the room opened. This time, it was a nurse with a camera.
“I just need to snap a shot for Dr. Al-Amin’s baby wall,” the woman said with a warm smile.
Nick wrapped his arm around Lindsey and gazed down at his wife and his daughter. “Just the beginning,” he whispered as the camera clicked.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
1
Summer after high school graduation
“I’m never wearing another sweater vest for the rest of my life!”
Monica Brandt sat shotgun in the convertible BMW next to her best friend, Courtney Wilkes. Monica peeled the garment off her body and held it above her head. The red acrylic and nylon blend fluttered in the air like the cape of a pint-sized superhero.
“You’re crazy, Monica! You know that, right?” Courtney said, gaze trained on the road.
“That’s why you adore me,” Monica replied. She leaned over the convertible’s leather-clad console and pressed a kiss to her friend’s cheek.
They passed through the school gates. Monica glanced back at the old, imposing brick building which once served as a convent back in the 1930s until it became a school for the daughters of Kansas City’s most wealthy and prominent citizens.
The late afternoon sun glimmered off a series of stained glass windows. The first time she had entered Sacred Heart Preparatory Academy, her grandmother settled her on a pew in the sanctuary then left to speak with the school’s headmistress. Monica’s feet couldn’t even touch the ground, and she kicked them back and forth. Sunlight poured through stained glass windows, illuminating images of men she didn’t recognize. Some wore robes, some held books, some posed with animals, but all of them stared expectantly at her. The colorful light cast her in shades of blue and red, and she stretched her little arms out to play with the light as it twinkled and danced on her fingertips.
Courtney hit the gas, and Monica looked down at her hands. Under the canopy of leaves, the light danced in her palms just as it had that day. The day everything changed.
“You’re not going to miss Sacred Heart at all?” Courtney asked.
Monica traced the school’s emblem on the vest crumpled in her lap. This badge had been plastered to her chest since she was five years old. Jumpers, sweaters, polos, blouses, and blazers, this emblem told the world she was off-limits. This emblem told the world she attended the prestigious, all-girls Catholic school nestled in Mission Springs, Kansas, in the most exclusive part of the Kansas City area.
There was, however, one problem. She didn’t belong to this world. She wasn’t born into wealth and privilege. She could tattoo the Sacred Heart crest to her forehead, but it would never change the fact she was an imposter.
“Let’s see,” Monica said. She threw the vest into the back seat. “We’ve spent the last thirteen years of our lives surrounded by nuns. I have more knee socks than any normal high school girl should own. Our entire wardrobe centers around what matches red plaid and the most exciting part of the week was trying to shock a ninety-two-year-old priest during confession.”
Courtney shook her head and turned onto Langley Park Boulevard. The sprawling mansions and grand gated estates decked with manicured lawns and elegant fountains that made up the exclusive town of Mission Springs, Kansas, disappeared. Lake Boley came into view, and Monica bristled as they passed the sign welcoming them into the neighboring town of Langley Park.
Her town. Her home. Her prison.
The boulevard lined with old bur oaks and shady hackberry trees led them past the Midwest Medical Center and toward Langley Park’s town center. If she hadn’t been forced to live here, she might have found the place appealing. The Langley Park Botanic Gardens, green and bursting with rich foliage under the mid-June sun, wrapped around the west side of the lake. The garden’s pavilion, perched on the water’s edge, buzzed with activity as couples strolled along winding paths and children dipped their toes into the serene lake or chased the dragonflies that swooped and danced about the flowers.
Monica turned away from the gardens and focused on her friend. “We’re not going to hang out at your house?”
Courtney shook her head. “My brother wanted us to meet him at the Langley Park Community Rec Center after school. Andrea and Bryson should be there, too.”
“What’s your brother got up his sleeve?” Monica asked.
“Chip’s always got something going on. I’ve stopped trying to keep up with all his schemes and nonsense.”
“But we’re still going?” Monica asked.
Courtney shrugged. “He is my older brother.”
“By like two minutes,” Monica replied. “That’s hardly an older brother, and that hardly means he can tell you what to do.”
“He likes you.”
Monica shifted. “He told you that?”
“Every guy at All Saints likes you, Mon. Please don’t try and act like you haven’t noticed.”
Monica bit her lip. Her appearance was the attribute that helped her gain acceptance in the prep school world, especially with the opposite sex at her school’s counterpart, the boys-only, All Saints Preparatory Academy. But there was something about Courtney’s brother that
piqued her interest. Something wicked twinkled in his eyes every time he looked at her. It confused and excited her in a twisted tangle of angsty teen emotions.
For as much time as she and Courtney spent together, she rarely saw Chip. There were the occasional awkward school mixers where an ancient deejay played lame tracks from the seventies. The nuns watched over the Sacred Heart girls with stern gazes as the priests watched over the All Saints boys, secretly trying to spike their glasses of punch with small flasks of whiskey without the nuns noticing.
“What about Joshua Cogen?” Monica offered. “He was staring at you at the spring dance.”
Courtney barked out a laugh. “Mon, he was staring at you. I might have wandered into his line of sight, but that’s it. You do something to guys. All that shiny black hair. Those come-hither blue eyes, your freakishly long legs that would put a Victoria’s Secret model to shame. Guys are falling all over themselves to try and get your attention. On top of that, you have a strict grandmother who won’t allow you to date, and that makes you even more of a challenge.”
“Oma,” Monica exhaled in a tight sigh. Her German grandmother was a force of nature.
“How is Oma?” Courtney asked. “I can’t believe she didn’t make you come home right after school. You don’t have to work at the bakery?”
“Oma was feeling generous. She’s big on education. I don’t have to be home until eleven tonight. Everybody else at Sacred Heart gets new Beamers and vacations to St. Croix for graduating high school. I get to stay out two hours past curfew.”
Courtney gave her a sympathetic grin. “Better than nothing, right?”
Monica sighed. “I still have to be up at four thirty tomorrow morning to help with all the wedding cakes. If I ever get married, there’s no way I’m getting married in June. June is baker hell. And forget having a cake. I’ll have cupcakes. Cupcakes that I didn’t have to lift a finger to make. Working in a bakery completely changes your perspective on sweets,” she said, slumping into the seat.
Courtney perked up. “Speaking of early mornings, how’s your paperboy? I assume you saw him?”
Despite the cool breeze, Monica felt her cheeks heat. “He’s not my paperboy. I regret even mentioning him to you.”
“You’re blushing,” Courtney said, not even turning to look at her. “I can feel it from here.”
Monica had been fascinated with her paperboy since she was a preteen. Early in the morning, when Langley Park was still fast asleep and the sun was barely a slice of light in the dark Kansas sky, he would ride his bike into the town center. Unlike most merchants and store owners in the Langley Park, she and her grandmother lived on-site in an apartment above the bakery, giving her no reason to be late in starting the morning baking routine. It also guaranteed she would be able to watch her paperboy as he leaned his bike against the fountain in the town square and walked from shop to shop, tossing a neatly folded paper onto each doorstep.
He had changed over the years. His rail-thin arms had grown muscled and toned. His awkward, boyish gait disappeared and was replaced with long, clean strides. His dark hair, once kept shaved close to his scalp now curled around his ears. The t-shirts that had hung loosely over his shoulders clung to the hard muscles of his sculpted back and abdomen. Monica knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t a boy anymore. And she wasn’t a girl. The rush of heat that swelled in her most sensitive place each time he passed by was a reminder of that.
“You still don’t know his name?” Courtney asked.
Monica released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I’m sure he’s just some public schoolboy.”
Courtney nodded. “Probably some kid who lives in Langley Park and goes to Village East High School. You know, they’ve been out of school for almost two weeks. It’s totally not fair.”
Courtney ramped up her tirade of the travesties of private schools versus public schools, and Monica sank back into the seat and closed her eyes. There was a good reason she was blushing. This morning, in the blue light of dawn, as she was wiping down the shop’s glass front door, she’d dropped her rag, and when she’d retrieved it, her paperboy was standing in front of her. They were nearly nose to nose. She was tall, almost five ten, but he still had a good six inches on her. Neither said a word. It was like going to the zoo for years and years to observe some elusive creature only to have it walk up to you one day and press its nose to the glass.
She stared into his eyes. They were green. Green like the dark moss that might grow upon some enchanted storybook tree. He’d never gotten close enough before for her to tell the color. When he’d made it to their shop, she always turned away and busied herself with something in the back. But she would keep him in her sights, finding his reflection in one of the metal mixing bowls. She even went as far as holding up one of the mirrored display trays to watch him gently set the paper on their doorstep. He always paused. He always stayed at the bakery a fraction of a second longer than the other shops, and his gaze was always pinned on her.
But this morning was different. This morning less than an inch of glass was all that came between them. He smiled. It was a crooked smile revealing a dimple on his cheek. He gestured to it. She watched wide-eyed as he did it again. She didn’t move. He pointed to his face and then to hers.
Then it hit her.
She stepped back and caught her reflection in the window. A giant line of chocolate brownie batter was streaked across her left cheek. In an entirely graceless move, she brought the rag to her cheek, turned on her heel, and ran to the back of the bakery. By the time she came out to plate the German chocolate cakes, the paper was folded crisply on the doorstep, and her paperboy was gone.
Courtney headed north on Baneberry Drive, and the Langley Park Community Recreation Center came into view. She drove past the entrance.
Monica looked over her shoulder. “I thought we were going to the rec center?”
“We are. Chip said to meet him at the basketball courts in the back.”
Monica leaned forward and assessed the empty court. “Basketball? Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can play or that I know anything about the sport.”
“We’re not playing. Chip’s got some two-on-two game set up and wanted us to come watch.”
Monica pursed her lips. “What makes him think we would want to watch him play basketball at the rec center?”
“I don’t know. This is what he told me.” Courtney’s eyes lit up. “Maybe he wants to try and impress you with his mad skills!”
“I highly doubt that,” Monica answered, but she couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement in her belly.
Between her rigorous school work and the demands of helping her grandmother in the bakery, she’d spent very little time with the opposite sex. Junior year, she’d kissed Tommy Blake in a coat closet at an All Saints and Sacred Heart mixer. He’d nearly touched her breast before the exaggerated cough of a priest chaperone interrupted them. That awkward encounter had been the total extent of her love life.
Courtney pulled over and parked next to the basketball courts when a car honked obnoxiously behind them.
Monica glanced at the rearview mirror. Her chest tightened. The driver of the honking car had pulled in behind them and was now applying lip gloss.
Monica frowned. “Andrea Rigley?”
“Come on, Mon. At least we didn’t have to ride over with her.”
“Girls!” came Andrea’s piercing voice. “Look what my parents gave me last night!”
With one hand resting on the hood of her cherry red Mercedes and the other raised in the air like a magician’s assistant, Andrea looked like a ridiculous spokesmodel for the rich and spoiled. Courtney and Monica got out of the convertible and walked over to the smiling girl.
“Isn’t she gorgeous!” Andrea cooed. “I was worried my parents were going to get me a C-class. Don’t get me wrong; there’s nothing technically terrible about the C-class. I mean, it is still a Mercedes. But my daddy said he wouldn’t consider
anything less than the top of the line for his little girl. It’s just a shame I won’t be driving it for very long.”
“Why is that?” Monica asked, knowing quite well she was taking the bait for another one of Andrea’s brag-fests.
“We leave for St. Barts in a few days. The staff should be preparing the house for our arrival right now. Oh, girls! The beaches are the best in the world. It’s exactly what I need before starting at Brown this fall. Daddy’s alma mater.”
Monica pasted a smile to her face and willed her eyes not to roll into the back of her head. Andrea was a mediocre student at best, but her father’s connections and, most likely, his generous donations had assured her a spot at the Ivy League school.
“It’s a great car, Andrea,” Courtney said with a smile and ease that comes with being born into wealth.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Andrea replied, gifting Courtney with air kisses. “And when are you leaving, Court?”
Monica’s heart sank. The Wilkes family spent every summer at their villa in the south of France near where Courtney’s mother grew up. Not only did Courtney speak French she also spoke Italian and Spanish. Each summer, she would leave the villa and stay with friends in Europe for a few weeks. Thanks to the Wilkes’ deep pockets and influential connections, Courtney had her pick of what language she wanted to learn and where she wanted to go.
“Our plane leaves tomorrow morning. My mom’s eager to get back.”
“I’m sure she is,” Andrea said. She swished her perfectly highlighted hair to hang over one shoulder. “And then it’s on to Stanford for you and Chip, right?”
“Yeah, my dad went there so we’ll be carrying on the family name,” Courtney said. Her expression grew earnest. “I have to admit; I am really excited. It’s a gorgeous campus, and they’ve got a strong computer science department.”
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 77
