Chapter Four

The next morning, Skye sat on the edge of the bed numbly staring at the expiration date on the condom box in her hand. If she was pregnant, it was her own darn fault. Flopping onto the fuchsia satin comforter in the guest bedroom at Maddie’s, she stared at the pink chandelier overhead. It would have taken all of one second to check the box that night, but she didn’t. And she knew why she didn’t. Ethan O’Connor’s mind-numbing, toe-curling kisses had sucked the common sense right out of her head.

She supposed the three glasses of champagne she’d had at Maddie and Gage’s rehearsal party might have had something to do with it, too. As soon as Skye had seen Ethan standing by the bar in an expensive black suit that fit him to perfection, she’d been drawn to him like a bee to a daisy… or maybe a rose. Ethan was too sophisticated to be a daisy.

And the morning after, he’d looked even better. Which proved that champagne goggles weren’t to blame. Lying in bed with a muscular arm tucked behind his head, he had a lazy, satisfied grin on his sinfully gorgeous face. The tangled sheets rode low on his waist and bared an impressive six-pack and a sculpted chest. She’d barely resisted the urge to crawl back into the king-sized bed and run her fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. She released a resentful sigh at the memory.

Physically, Ethan O’Connor was her dream man. Her every erotic fantasy come to life. He sent her hormones and pheromones into overdrive. And when he opened his mouth, he sent her temper there, too. The man stood for everything she stood against. There was not a single thing they agreed upon. If she said the grass was green, he’d say it was brown in that smooth, lawyerly voice of his.

And she might be having his baby.

Hot and cold shivers raced up and down her spine, her stomach rolling on a nauseous wave. You’re not pregnant, she told herself firmly and sat up. Sliding a hand under the waistband of her black yoga pants, she brushed her fingers over her stomach. Firm and concave. No changes there. She brought both hands to her black, pink-trimmed sports bra and cupped her boobs. Definitely a change there. It hadn’t been the Cake Fairy costume after all. And not only were her boobs bigger, they were more sensitive, too. Cupcakes—it had to be all the sugar-laden cupcakes she’d eaten. Sugar was poison, and she’d been poisoning herself on a daily basis.

Dear universe, please let it be the sugar, Skye thought as she picked up her iPhone. The one extravagance from her old life that she couldn’t afford to let go. Even if she kind of couldn’t afford to keep it. Because no matter what Maddie said, Skye’s financial future rested on her blog. But before she checked for responses from the bloggers she’d e-mailed last night, she Googled pregnancy symptoms.

Missed period. She mentally checked off the box. Morning sickness. She gave it a half-check. Hers was an all-day sickness, or at least it had been up until a few days ago. Tender breasts. Another check.

She gave a guilty start as the bedroom door opened. Quickly closing the site, Skye tossed her iPhone and pulled up her legs to sit cross-legged on the bed, wrapping her right elbow over her left in a seated eagle pose.

Maddie stuck her head in. “Hi… What are you doing?”

“Yoga.”

“Oh, okay. How are you feeling this morning?” she asked, a touch of Southern in her voice.

Pregnant. “Fabulous.”

“You look better than you did yesterday. Your face is all glowy.”

Darn it. Skye mentally checked another box.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“Like a log.” Dammit. Her stomach did a panicked dance as she checked off that last box. At any other time, with any other man, she would’ve blurted her fears to her best friend. But she couldn’t. If Skye was pregnant, as soon as she started showing, she’d leave Christmas. She wouldn’t tell Ethan.

There’s no way she’d subject her child to the same harsh censure she’d endured growing up. And she knew only too well that as conservative as Ethan was, he’d insist she marry him. She didn’t believe in marriage. Especially to a man who didn’t like her, let alone love her. What kind of environment would that be for a child to grow up in? She knew exactly what kind, since it was the one she’d grown up in.

“That’s good, because I just got off the phone with Grace,” Maddie said as she walked into the room. “She needs you to help out today.”

Skye had been mortified yesterday. Devastated that she’d made the little girls cry. She didn’t know what had come over her. Okay, so she did. Ethan had driven her to it. Ethan and her worries over their maybe baby. Seeing Claudia take a picture of her, a picture that made Skye look like a fool, only made it worse. Ethan already thought she was a joke. One more reason for her not to tell him if she was pregnant.

“I can’t work today. I have plans.” She was picking up a pregnancy test. And she’d have to drive halfway across the state to ensure no one saw her do so. “Grace told me yesterday that she didn’t need me.” She hadn’t said so in so many words, but after Skye had killed Ethan… the prince… she figured Grace didn’t trust her to help out at the fund-raising event Liz O’Connor was hosting for her son. The Sugar Plum Bakery was catering the Strawberry Social at the O’Connors’ ranch today.

“You have to. Desiree called in sick.”

“Liz O’Connor hates me. She won’t want me there.” And that was one more reason to add to the why-not-to-tell-Ethan list. “And I don’t want to see Claudia again.” Especially since Skye would be working the type of event she’d usually attend as a guest.

“Since when do you care what people think? You’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum, so keep marching. Grace needs you, and you need the money.”

Skye’s stomach dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of her toes at the reminder. She hadn’t moved past the initial shock and horror of thinking she might be pregnant to think about all that entailed. Supporting herself on minimum wage was one thing, but supporting a baby, too…? She’d need health insurance. She’d need… Tears prickled at the backs of her eyes as the weight of her worries came crashing down upon her.

Maddie frowned and sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand. “What’s wrong?”

Skye wanted to tell her, but she couldn’t ask Maddie to keep a secret from her husband. Gage and Ethan were best friends. And she wouldn’t put her best friend in the middle of the mess. Resting her head on Maddie’s shoulder, Skye swiped at the tear burning a trail down her cheek. “I feel like a failure. I’m twenty-eight, and I have no money, no home, no career. I don’t have anything.”

“You have me, and you have Vivi. And you’re not a failure. Come on.” Maddie squeezed her hand. “What happened to the woman who always told me, ‘When one door closes another one opens’? Or what about ‘It always looks darkest before the dawn’?”

Skye snorted and rubbed her nose. “She had her rose-colored glasses ripped off her face.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing. I bet one day you’ll look back on this and say it’s the best thing that ever happened to you. Everything for a reason, remember?”

“Are you going to quote every platitude I ever spouted?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of fun. How about this one: ‘Breathe and find your happy place’?”

Skye half-laughed, half-cried, and put her arms around Maddie. “I really do love you, you know.”

“I know you do, and I love you, too.” Maddie rubbed Skye’s back. “We’re going to figure this out. I checked out your blog last night. You weren’t kidding. It really is popular. I made up a list of potential advertisers that would fit your target audience.”

Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands, Skye eased out of Maddie’s arms. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. We’ll talk about it tonight. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

With Maddie putting her stamp of approval on the plan, Skye felt more hopeful and positive. It made it easier for her to push her fears away. “You’re right. I will.”

“That’s more like it. But until you are, you’re staying with us,” Maddie said as she came to her feet.

Skye shook her head. “You know how much I love camping. I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

“Don’t be silly. Lily and Annie love having you around. Their auntie Skye is way cool in their eyes.”

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I? But you and Gage are newlyweds. You don’t need a third wheel.”

“We have two kids and another one on the way. What’s one more?”

Skye narrowed her eyes at her best friend.

Maddie laughed. “Come on. Grace wants you to wear black pants and a white blouse. I’ve seen your closet, so we’ll have to raid mine. Let’s see what I have that’ll fit you.” She gave Skye a quick once-over and frowned. “Have your boobs gotten bigger?”

* * *

The colorful glass beads holding up Skye’s messy topknot clinked as the delivery van bounced along the one-tract dirt road. “Geez, I thought the O’Connors were rich. You think they could pave the road.” She sounded a tad cranky, and Skye was rarely cranky. Her mood was probably due to the motion causing a return of her nausea. Either that or her inability to convince Grace that her working the event was a bad idea.

“You’re not feeling well, are you?” Grace said, shooting her a concerned glance.

“No, I’m good. Just a little carsick,” Skye lied. She wished it was the truth. Because she really didn’t want to think about the other explanation. After she’d changed into Maddie’s short-sleeved white blouse and black Capri pants, Skye had locked the bathroom door and filled one of the expired condoms with water. She repeated the experiment three times. They were all fine… no leakage. So she’d convinced herself she had nothing to worry about.

“I really wish I didn’t have to ask you to do this, Skye. But it’s my first big catering event, and I need your help. There’s a lot of influential people attending, and it’ll be great publicity for the bakery. I don’t want to mess it up.”

One more reason she shouldn’t be there, Skye thought. Half the people attending the social were on her hit list. But after hearing how important today was for Grace, she decided she had to get over herself and suck it up. She’d do whatever she had to to make the event a success. “You won’t. Once they taste your strawberry shortcake and strawberry tart, you’ll be booked through to next year.” And thinking of the theme for the social, her voice grew more enthusiastic. At least the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy wouldn’t be expected to make an appearance.

“I’m so glad you moved to Christmas. You’re good for my confidence. I hope you don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.” Grace’s smile faded when Skye inadvertently grimaced. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“You know me, footloose and fancy-free,” Skye said, forcing a lighthearted tone to her voice. “Never know when the mood will strike me. But don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of notice.”

New York had been Skye’s home base for the last ten years, but she spent so much time travelling to remote corners of the world with her environmental causes that she was rarely there. Over the last year, even before she’d lost her money, her bohemian lifestyle had started to lose its appeal. She’d been thinking of settling down and starting a foundation of her own. But her financial problems had effectively ended that idea.

“Oh, I thought you were happy here.” Grace wrinkled her nose. “Is it Madison? Did you guys have a fight when you told her you lost your trust fund? You seemed to be getting along okay.”

“No, we’re good. I, uh, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Skye stared out the passenger-side window at the aspens nestled against the rocky cliffs that encircled the private valley. As the landscape blurred into a verdant blob, she blinked back tears. She didn’t know why the idea of leaving the small town—Maddie and her girls, the friends she’d made—left her feeling so darn emotional. She cleared her throat. “I’ll probably camp out for a while, see how it goes.”

“You’re not living in a tent, Skye,” Grace said firmly, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. “Promise me you won’t do anything for now. I have an idea, but I have to talk it over with Jack first.”

“I don’t plan…” Skye began, then groaned as they drove through the open wrought-iron gates and up the long, paved circular drive. And it wasn’t because the last time she’d driven through those gates she had been with Ethan. No, it was because she recognized the man standing on the cobblestone walkway in front of the O’Connors’ stunning home talking to Liz O’Connor. Ethan’s mother looked youthfully pretty with a black headband holding back her toffee-colored, shoulder-length hair. She made even a white denim skirt and black-and-white T-shirt look coolly elegant.

“What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick?”

Skye sunk down in her seat. “The man in the black Stetson is Richard Stevens, Claudia’s father. You have to do me a big favor, Grace. No one can find out I’m broke. If anyone asks, tell them I’m just helping you out,” she said desperately. All she’d need was for her father to hear she’d lost her trust fund. He’d never let her live it down, and neither would Claudia.

“Of course. Madison is the only one who knows you’re on the payroll.” Grace made a face. “And Jack.”

“You don’t think he’d tell Gage or Ethan, do you?” Skye asked, bending down to dig her cell phone from her purse.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll call him just to make sure.”

“Thanks. I’d better call Maddie.” Skye already had her phone to her ear. When the call went to voice mail, she left a message. They were heading to Lily’s baseball game, so hopefully Maddie would get it before coming to the social.

Liz and Richard turned when Grace pulled the white van in front of the house. Catching sight of Skye, Ethan’s mother’s lips set in a disapproving line. Let the fun begin, Skye thought. She forced a smile for Richard, who offered her a surprised one in return. He opened her door. “Kendall Davis,” he said in a booming voice as he hauled her into his arms. Richard was a loud, gregarious man in his midsixties who looked like Robert Redford. “Claudia told me you were here. I was going to look you up before I left. You haven’t changed a bit. Still pretty as a picture. How long has it been?”

“It’s been a while.” Skye smiled. She’d always liked Claudia’s dad. “You look great, Richard. You’re doing well?”

“Can’t complain, darlin’. Now, tell me what you’re doing here. Last I heard from your father you’d been arrested for chaining yourself to a tree in Brazil.”

Her cheeks heated. “Um, that was about six years ago.”

“Oh, right, it was a forklift up in Montana.”

“No, that was—”

He snapped his fingers. “Gotcha. Canadian embassy in Washington to protest the tar sands.” Grinning, he hooked an arm around her neck. “This little gal’s a pistol, Lizzie. Never knew what she’d get up to next. When she was ten, she snuck out of the house one night and set the neighbor’s horses free.” He chuckled. “Surprised your father still has a hair left on his head. Have you—”

“Richard, we probably should let Ms. Davis get to work,” Liz interrupted him in an unamused voice. “The guests will be arriving shortly.”

He frowned, looking from Skye to Grace, who’d started to unload the van. “You’re working at a bakery?”

“Just lending my friend a hand.” She patted his arm. “It was great to see you, Richard.”

“You too, darlin’. We’ll talk later.”

“Grace, the boys are in the back setting up the tables. Get them to give you a hand. You can go through the house to the backyard,” Liz said. She looped her arm through Richard’s. “Come and see that horse I was telling you about.”

“You should let Skye have a look at him. She’s a regular horse whisperer.” He chuckled and winked at Skye. “On second thought, you better not. She’s liable to set him free.”

Ethan’s mother, whose lips were once again pressed in a disapproving line, gave a disdainful “Hmm.”

Grace, standing with two containers in her arms, stared after Liz and Richard. “Okay,” she said. “I thought you were exaggerating, but you’re not. Mrs. O’Connor is definitely not a fan of yours.”

“Yeah. And hopefully Richard cans the reminiscing or you’ll be on your own. If he tells her about my run-in with the NRA last year, she’ll have me tossed from the premises.”

Pulling a tray from the back of the van, Grace cast Skye a nervous glance. “I think there’s a man from the NRA on the guest list. You won’t—”

“Don’t worry, Grace. I won’t do anything to embarrass you or the bakery. I promise.” She grabbed two trays from the van and turned to head up the stairs.

Ethan stood on the porch in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to bare his tanned forearms. A pair of navy dress pants showed off his narrow waist and long, muscular legs. “Glad to hear that, cupcake,” he said, taking the trays from her.

She sighed. “Can you please give the ‘cupcake’ thing a rest?”

His hazel eyes warmed and his lips tipped up at the corners. “You prefer Cake Fairy?”

“Maybe you didn’t notice, but I’m not wearing my costume. I’m not the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy today.” Thank the universe.

“Oh, I noticed,” he said as his eyes took a lazy head-to-toe tour of her body. “And you still look good enough to eat.”