The Winner Takes It All Read online

  Cecilia cleared her throat, wanting to express her gratitude and realizing how infrequently she offered anyone any genuine emotion. She forced the words out because she felt them and was sick of being uncomfortable. “Thank you. I know I’m not the warmest person, but I appreciate how you’ve included me in all the family stuff.”

  Maddie’s brow furrowed, her auburn brows forming a deep V. “That’s because you are family. And I don’t believe for one second you’re cold. You’re slow to warm up, just like your mom and brother. But once you get going you’re totally awesome. I hope, with time, you’ll start to think of me as a friend and not just as the girl who’s marrying your brother.”

  “I’d like that too,” Cecilia said, meaning it.

  Sam wandered into the kitchen wearing a pair of gym shorts so low-slung they showed the cut of his lean hip. Cecilia could only stare at him, this man she still mentally viewed as the boy she’d grown up with. His skin was lightly tanned, his lean muscles ripped across an impressive chest and six-pack abs, and his blond hair was a disheveled mess.

  She blinked, and then blinked again. Damn, he had quite a body on him.

  “Sorry, girls,” he said in a slow drawl. “Just passing through.”

  Maddie cocked a brow. “Show-off.”

  He stopped on a dime and gave Maddie a slow, leisurely glance. “There’s one thing I’ve learned in life: when you’re about to play basketball with a bunch of overly aggressive, possessive guys, it’s best to have any advantage you can.”

  Cecilia lost her focus on what he was saying. Where had scrawny little Sam gone?

  Maddie’s lips tilted down and she crossed her arms. “What the hell does that mean?”

  He grinned, all cocky and full of mischief. He chucked Maddie under the chin. “It means telling Shane and Mitch you girls were checking out the goods is sure to throw them off their game.”

  Wait, Shane was playing basketball?

  Cecilia lifted her chin and said in her haughtiest voice, “Excuse me, I never check men out. It’s not in my nature.”

  His lazy gaze turned on her. “Then Shane won’t believe me, now will he?”

  Why did she feel as though she’d been caught in a lie? She put on her most impassive expression. “I have no control over him.”

  Sam shrugged, unconcerned. “We’ll have to see about that, now won’t we?”

  Maddie planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t even try that on us. We’re on to you.”

  “I’ll see you ladies outside.” He grinned and sauntered away.

  Cecilia turned to Maddie. “Why do I feel like we’ve been issued some sort of challenge?”

  “Oh, because we have.”

  “What do we do now?”

  Maddie laughed. “We fall for it, of course.”

  Shane stood talking to Mitch as Sam and Charlie huddled under the basketball hoop at the end of the long driveway planning some sort of strategy.

  “What the fuck are you two doing?” Mitch yelled. “Trading makeup tips?”

  Sam waved him away. “Shut up and get your own game plan.”

  Mitch rolled his eyes and cocked a brow at Shane. “You know the plan?”

  Shane gave a sharp nod. “Kick their asses.”

  They pounded fists.

  “Done,” Mitch called out.

  Charlie and Sam ignored them.

  Shane shook his head. “This isn’t the NBA. Get a move on.”

  Charlie shot him the finger and went back to talking to Sam.

  Three minutes later, all the girls filed out of Gracie’s house.

  Sam smiled. “Now we’re ready.”

  Before they could start, Maddie ran over and threw herself on Mitch, pulling him down and kissing him like she hadn’t seen him in ten years.

  Shane made a disgusted sound. “Would you knock it the hell off?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cecilia press a finger to those porn-star lips to keep from laughing. She’d changed into a black tank top and white shorts. Her breasts swelled over the scooped neckline and her legs were endless. He yanked his gaze away.

  Mitch pulled away from his sister and patted her ass. “Miss me, princess?”

  “Always,” Maddie said, mooning at him.

  Shane sighed, a long, heavy sound.

  Charlie held out his hands. “I thought you were ready?”

  “Geez, chill,” Maddie said, then sashayed off the driveway and plopped down on a lawn chair between Penelope and Sophie.

  Charlie shook his head. “That girl needs a spanking if I ever met one.”

  Shane punched him in the arm. “That’s my sister.”

  “I didn’t say I’d do it,” Charlie said, a hint of his Southern roots laced through his drawl. “Just that she needed one. She’s getting sassy.”

  From behind him Cecilia laughed, a full-bodied smoky laugh that shot straight to Shane’s balls and made him shiver with lust. He whipped around, giving her a cocky smile. “What are you laughing at?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Oh, nothing.” She sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees and his gaze slipped to her cleavage.

  Charlie gave him a sly grin. “Maybe she needs one too.”

  Shane shifted his attention back to Cecilia, assessing. An image of her round ass over his knee made him contemplate ditching the game and finishing what they’d started last night.

  Cecilia shook her head, her whiskey hair swaying around her shoulders. When had it gone from razor straight to wavy? “Don’t even think about it.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, thinking about it anyway.

  She cocked a brow at him. “Try it and you’ll be sorry.”

  Charlie jabbed him with an elbow. “Well, shit, now she’s outright challenging you.”

  Mitch punched him in the arm. “Hey, that’s my sister.”

  Cecilia’s eyes widened, her gaze jerking toward her brother. Her whole face lit up, as though she couldn’t believe anyone would stand up for her. Shane’s heart gave a hard little thunk against his ribs.

  From the sidelines, Gracie raised a hand. “Um, I’ll take a spanking.”

  Everyone laughed except for Sam, who scowled. “For fuck’s sake, you’re my sister!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, I didn’t mean you, dummy.”

  Charlie grinned and winked at her. “Just name the time and place, honey.”

  “Still my sister!” Sam yelled.

  Gracie ignored him and took a sip of her drink. “You know we’re not doing that anymore.”

  Charlie laughed and turned back to the court.

  Shane looked at Cecilia, who looked right back at him with that eagle-eyed, level stare of hers. The one that said she wasn’t scared of anything, least of all him. His whole body heated with lust, because he read the challenge there too. That I-dare-you tilt of her lips. He walked over, and not once did she glance away.

  When he stood in front of her, she raised her head, and the sunlight kissed her skin and turned her hair to spun gold. “Can I help you?”

  Oh, that smooth, prim voice—as though she was deliberately trying to entice him.

  He ran a finger over the line of her jaw, not caring who watched. Satisfaction swelled as she shuddered ever so slightly. “Challenge accepted.”

  She smirked. “I don’t know to what you’re referring.”

  He laughed, catching her game and liking it. “Then you’re going to be in for quite a surprise, now aren’t you?”

  Sophie whistled, long and low. “Girl, you are in trouble.”

  Cecilia shrugged, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. “I’m not afraid of him.”

  She wasn’t. It was one of the things he liked best about her.

  One of the things he wasn’t sure if he could live without.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cecilia shot a nervous glance over at Shane, all lazy and relaxed, as they made their way back to Chicago. Despite her protests, he drove. They’d argued about it, a
fun, good-natured argument that had her fighting not to laugh, but in the end she’d relented. With Shane she’d learned to pick her battles, and this one didn’t seem worth it.

  But now, an hour into the drive and nothing to occupy her but endless cornfields, the conversation she’d been dreading sat like a lump of coal in her belly.

  The last couple of days had been odd. They’d talked. He’d held her hand as they sat on the couch and watched movies with the rest of the crew. He’d given her mad, passionate kisses that left her breathless, but he’d made no move to get into her bed.

  It was like having a nineteen fifties courtship.

  And now she had to go and ruin it.

  She twisted her hands, fidgeting in her seat, worried.

  The reason for her worry frightened her. About ten minutes into her fretting she realized she was scared to death that once she told him about attending the benefit with Miles, he’d leave. Then she’d be shut out, and she’d grown far too used to his warmth.

  She cared. A lot. This was no longer some chemical attraction. This was real.

  And that was wrong.

  She frowned, shifting in her seat. As soon as she told him the truth about tonight, he’d go back to hating her.

  “All right,” he said, his gruff voice startling her from her troubled thoughts. “Spit it out.”

  She nibbled her lower lip and diverted. “How do you know something is wrong?”

  He gave her a sidelong glance before turning his attention back to the rural road. “Because I know you.”

  Was that right? Did he? “You do?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t try to distract me, just say what’s on your mind so you can relax.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. He made it sound so easy! “I can’t!”

  “Why’s that?” He sounded so warm and casual. How would he sound after he found out?

  “Because,” she said, clenching her hands. Suddenly it was too hot and she punched the air conditioner down. “I’m afraid.”

  He raised a brow. “That’s a new one.”

  “You don’t think I get afraid?”

  He shrugged. “Not often. And if you do, it doesn’t seem to slow you down. You’re more a take-the-bull-by-the-horns type.”

  She crossed her arms and decided to take offense. “What does that mean?”

  “Exactly what you think it means.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Now stop distracting me, woman.”

  It wasn’t going to work. He wasn’t going to let her lure him into an argument. The jerk.

  A green mile marker flew by, reminding her of her drive into Revival. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She hadn’t been happy, per se, but her life had been clear. Her path set. Now, nothing made sense.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Okay, you know how I’m . . .” She cleared her throat and waved her hand in the air, unable to come right out and say it. “You know . . .”

  “You know?”

  She punched the air down to sixty. “Engaged.”

  His shoulders tensed fractionally, but he nodded.

  “Well, this benefit, my plans were made a long time before you and I . . . became . . . well, whatever this is.”

  “Not willing to put a name on it, huh?” The question sounded far too amused for the subject matter. He had to know where she was going, but seemed unperturbed by the whole thing.

  “What would you call it?” she shot back.

  He chuckled. “Nice try, Ce-ce.”

  She wrinkled her nose. How could he make being a jerk so appealing? “Anyway, with my plans in place . . .” The words stuck in her throat as though they were glued there.

  “You’re going with him.” It wasn’t a question.

  Miserable, she nodded and braced herself for his wrath.

  She waited.

  Waited.

  But it didn’t come.

  Instead, he shrugged and punched the air back up to sixty-five. “I figured as much.”

  “You did?” An irrational thread of annoyance snaked its way down her spine. He didn’t even sound upset.

  “It’s a high-profile benefit, and I know you’re looking to be visible. I did the math.”

  “You’re not upset?” Here she’d been expecting him to hate her again, or at least raise his voice. Something. But he acted like she’d told him the sky was blue.

  “I’m not happy, but it is what it is.” He gave her an innocent smile that raised the hairs on the back of her neck and put her on instant alert. “Besides, you’re not the only one with prior commitments.”

  Her spine snapped ruler straight. “I see. You have a date?”

  “I do, although I’m not sure you know her.” Again, his expression was angelic. “Harper Holt.”

  “Oh.” While the name sounded vaguely familiar, Cecilia couldn’t place it. It didn’t matter who the woman was, Cecilia instantly hated her. “Well, great. It all works out then.”

  “Yep,” he said, so casually she wanted to gouge his eyes out.

  She turned and stared out the window. How could he? It was completely unfair of her, but she didn’t care. She hated him. He was the most despicable man alive. Harper Holt. She sounded obnoxious.

  And just like that, the name clicked. Rushing into her mind like a runaway train. The name was from the file she had on him.

  Hot with anger, her cheeks flamed. She whipped around and jabbed a finger at Shane. “Harper Holt, the CEO of Innovate?”

  “So you do know her.” The corners of his mouth quivered. Was he trying not to laugh?

  “Your ex-girlfriend!” she yelled, surprising herself. She wasn’t a yeller.

  He shrugged, as if this was no big deal. “She’s a friend and doing me a favor.”

  Jealousy, unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life, made her lose her normal grasp on rational behavior. Fists clenched tight, her nails digging into her palms, she said, “How could you?!”

  “How could I what?” His casual tone grated over her last nerve. “Do I really need to remind you that you’re going with your fiancé?”

  She sputtered. “That’s different!”

  “How?”

  “It just is.”

  “Because you don’t like it,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  She contemplated ways to torture him, including shoving bamboo shoots under his fingernails. “I’ve never had sex with Miles. I’ve never even kissed him.”

  He frowned at her. “I’m not having sex with Harper.”

  “But you did.” She desperately wanted to stop talking to give herself a chance to calm down, but she couldn’t seem to get her mouth under control.

  “I dated her for a year.”

  She let out a scream. “This isn’t the same thing.”

  “I know. I’m not the one getting married.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything!”

  He jerked the car to the side of the road, coming to a screeching halt, then gave her a hard-eyed look. “Then why the fuck are you doing it?”

  She gulped, and wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  It was underhanded. Shane knew that and didn’t care. One of the things he’d learned about Cecilia was that she was stubborn as hell.

  He raised a brow, putting his hand on the back of her seat. “Well? Why?”

  Her expression flashed with emotion: anger, jealousy, fear. “You know I have to.”

  “Why do you have to?” He hadn’t pushed before but intended to now.

  “Stop trying to change the subject,” she yelled, her voice going squeaky.

  “This is the subject, Cecilia.”

  “I don’t want you to go with her.” She sniffed, her chin tilting with that telltale defiance.

  “Well, I don’t want you to go with him, but what we want and what’s happening isn’t the same thing.”

  Her lashes lifted and her eyes were more gray than blue. “Are you doing this on purpose? To make me jealous?”

  One of the
things he liked best about Cecilia was he didn’t have to pull any punches, and he didn’t soften the blow. “Of course.”

  She blinked. “Why would you do that?”

  He trailed a finger down her smooth cheek. “I could have canceled, but I didn’t intend to be the only jealous party here.”

  “You don’t even seem like you care.”

  “I care,” he said, his voice softening considerably. “More than I should. More than I can help. But I know I can’t talk you out of it. Even though I think it’s the stupidest harebrained scheme I’ve ever heard.”

  “You don’t understand how it is.”

  God, she was stubborn. He asked the one question she’d yet to answer regardless of how many times he’d prompted. “Why do you want to run for congress?”

  “Because it’s what I’ve always wanted.” Parroting the same line of crap she kept giving him.

  “Don’t you see, Cecilia,” he said, stroking down her neck, “that’s not a good enough reason.”

  Twin lines formed over her brows. “What are you trying to say?”

  He sighed. “Once I had lunch with a candidate for alderman and I asked her that same question. She talked about changes she wanted to make in the schools, greenhouse gasses, bringing government back to the people, getting her community involved. She was so passionate. She couldn’t stop talking about all the things she wanted to accomplish. I didn’t say more than five words the whole meal.”

  Cecilia’s shoulders had gone stiff. That remote expression slid over her face, keeping everything hidden. “You don’t think I can do that?”

  He looked her dead in the eyes, hoping she understood his distinction. “I absolutely believe you can do that. Hell, Cecilia, you’ve won the respect and loyalty of every single person in that overcrowded farmhouse in less than a week. If you can do that, you can sway voters.”

  Her chin shot up another notch. “Not my mother. She’s barely talking to me.”

  “That’s your own fault.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “She’s your mom; she knows you’re making a mistake. It’s killing her.”