The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel) (15 page)

They loved him. Respected him. Cared enough to make sure he’d eaten breakfast.

The loneliness crushed her.

Surrounded by people, she was alone. The people in her life didn’t care if she was okay. Nobody inquired after her well-being. Hell, she’d relented and checked her voice mails this morning, but no one had even asked how she was. No, they all just wanted something from her. The advisers wanted her to check out a rumor floating around the Internet. Paul, from the communications team, wanted her advice on how to handle a tricky PR situation. The senator wanted her to talk sense into her mom. Miles wanted her to pose for some corporate thing on the thirtieth.

She didn’t blame them. It was her fault. After all, she was cold. She didn’t invite connection, so why should it disappoint her?

But it did.

So she’d slunk over to Gracie’s in hopes of a refuge she didn’t deserve. Through the glass, she saw her childhood friend walking down the hallway and Cecilia smoothed down her T-shirt.

The younger woman opened the door and smiled, her blue eyes warm with welcome.

Cecilia’s throat tightened unexpectedly and she cleared it, but when she spoke her voice quavered. “Can I help you again today?”

She needed to be wrapped up in Gracie’s cozy, lemon-cream-pie kitchen.

She braced herself for the no, half expecting Gracie to slam the door in her face.

Instead, her lips curved down and she stood back, hand on the door handle to let her in. “That bad, huh?”

And to Cecilia’s shock, she burst into tears, right there on Gracie’s doorstep in broad daylight.

Gracie, God bless her, didn’t bat an eye. She wrapped an arm around Cecilia’s shoulder and ushered her inside, murmuring, “There, there.”

Cecilia wiped frantically at her eyes, more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her whole life. She sniffed. “I’m so sorry. This is humiliating.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Gracie pushed her toward the kitchen and plopped her down on one of the chairs at her large farmhouse table.

More tears slid down her cheeks. “I haven’t cried since I was fifteen.”

“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 heaven. 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.