Sam reached the Rothwell Farm just before six. It was already dark. The temp—five below. The night air stung his cheeks and his boots crunched on icy snow as he made his way to the dimly lit porch. He was too hot to be cold. Too randy to be nervous. Harper had worked him up good and hard with her sexting. And the visual of her naked body, that beautifully sculpted body with its lush assets, was a constant in his mind’s eye. Harper was everything he’d imagined that first day when she’d landed in his arms—Sports Illustrated–bathing-suit-model-perfection—and Sam was going to nail her.
In spite of the freezing temperature, she answered the door in that black lace thong and bra and—thank you Jesus—stiletto heels. He was pretty sure he he’d died and gone to heaven or maybe hell depending on whether he’d gotten in over his head. She could be into some serious S&M for all he knew. Not his thing. Regardless, he moved inside.
“Brought the wine,” he said.
“Brought something else, too,” she said, palming the bulge in his jeans. “The wine can wait. I can’t. But first, I’ve got some rules.”
Sam shut the door and set aside the wine while Harper launched into a laundry list of do’s and don’ts and within the first five seconds he knew her kink didn’t extend to S&M, although she wasn’t opposed to D&S or B&D. She added a couple acronyms he didn’t recognize, but he wasn’t really listening at this point so much as thinking about that lush mouth wrapped around his—
“No sleeping over. And when we’re done, we’re done. We won’t discuss it after or ever. I—”
“We doing this?” Sam asked as tossed his jacket. “Or are you going to talk it to death?”
Blue eyes sparking, Harper grabbed the wine bottle then launched herself at Sam, wrapping her legs around his middle and using her mouth for something other than yakking. Holy hell, this woman could kiss. Counting his lucky stars and cradling her beautiful ass, Sam opted to move this party upstairs, pronto.
“Bad time to talk?”
“Great time to talk.” Rae lowered the volume on the television via remote, repositioned her laptop, and rested back against her pillows. She was beginning to think she wasn’t going to hear from Luke again today, so she’d immersed herself in work, rather than dwelling on his absence. “How’d it go with your dad?”
“Believe it or not the old man put up a fight even with the four of us and mom facing him down.”
“Who gave Jerome more grief? You or Dev?”
“That would be Rocky.”
“Really?”
“She lost it, Rae. I mean big-time. She was all up in his face, accusing him of being a selfish SOB. What if he took a turn for the worse by not addressing this present glitch? What if he died? Then she’d forever associate her wedding day with the day that killed him.”
“Wow.”
“Then the zinger. How dare he potentially ruin what should be the happiest day of her life.”
Rae cringed. “That’s—”
“Harsh? You should’ve been there. It was worse in person. I mean, yeah, I’m pissed at Dad for the way he’s handled a lot of this,” Luke said, “but it’s hard to take a tough stance when he looks like a shadow of his former self.”
“Not hard for Rocky apparently.”
“I don’t know. I think she went bonkers for a few seconds. Right after she gave him hell, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. That’s when the old man broke.”
Rae’s eyes burned as she imagined the scene, the emotions. She thought about the intense love between the Monroe siblings and their parents and acknowledged a gaping hole in her heart. She’d never had that kind of connection with her mother. She couldn’t remember her birth father. She’d never had a chance to bond with her second and third stepfathers because Olivia kept sending her away. As for Geoffrey … there would be no bonding there. Ever.
“Rae.”
“What?”
“I asked if you were okay.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” She palmed her forehead, gathered her wits. “I was just thinking about how your father’s illness has impacted everyone. I thought he was beating this thing.”
“He was. And there’s still a strong chance he will.”
“So where do things stand?”
“Dad buckled regarding the test. Dev called the specialist and I don’t know who did what, but they were able to move the CT scan up to tomorrow. Whether Rocky and Jayce postpone the wedding hinges on the results.”
“Awfully close to the wire,” Rae said.
“Things are a little tense,” Luke said. “So how was your day? How’d it go with the publisher? How’s it looking with Sugar Tots?”
Rae snuggled back against her pillows, smiling and jazzed to share her day with Luke. Hoping she could brighten his mood with uplifting news. “Everything went great. Just as I’d hoped Brett, our editor, was intrigued with the concept of exploiting my name, or rather my fortune and my mother’s name, to give our cupcake book an edge over every other cupcake book saturating the market right now.”
“I would think that the history of the Cupcake Lovers, the military angle and charitable aspect, would be edge enough,” Luke said.
“A celebrity tie-in is a guaranteed sales boost. Not to mention it ensures free publicity. Brett’s taking this new angle—Daisy calls it our gimmick—to a marketing meeting tomorrow. Except, my wheels started turning while we were talking and, I have to say, Luke, I’m not sure it’s in our best interest to go for forward with Highlife.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just don’t sense they believe in our cause the way we do. I don’t trust Highlife will do right by the CLs. Which got me to thinking … what if we self-published the book instead of going through a conventional publisher? Cut out the middle man allowing us more profit for the charities?”
“The Cupcake Lovers signed a contract.”
“There might be a way around that. Especially since they’ve fudged on their end. Chloe said she’d have Dev look into it.”
“You spoke to Chloe about this?”
“And Daisy. The opportunity was there and I was dying to run the idea by someone. Chloe and I are researching self-publishing so we’ll be able to present a strong and educated case to the club on Thursday.” Rae got all tingly just thinking about it. The prospect of taking control, in playing a vital role in furthering such a great cause.
“If you cut out the middle man,” Luke said, “someone else will have to take on that work.”
“It would mean hiring some freelance help.”
“The club’s nonprofit, Rae. They, we, can’t afford that kind of upfront investment.”
“I can.”
Luke fell silent for a moment and Rae frowned.
“I sense apprehension,” she said.
“Seems like you’re taking on an awful lot. Financing and overseeing the publishing of a book plus purchasing and reorganizing, hell, running the day care center. We’re talking about a lot of money.”
“I have a lot of money.”
“And time and energy.”
“I have that, too.”
“What about as you get further along in your pregnancy? What about after you have the baby?”
“Did you think I was going to be a stay-at-home mom?”
“You can afford to be.”
She didn’t know why that statement bothered her. It was true. And there’d been no sarcasm in Luke’s tone. He’d just stated a fact. “By the time the baby comes, the Cupcake Lovers’ book will already be out—one way or another. As for Sugar Tots…” Her mind whirled with all her plans—the renovations and expansion. The programs and staff. She didn’t want to skimp on one single aspect and yet she knew it would be a lot of work. Frustrated now, she blew out a breath. “I’ll figure it out. Lots of women juggle motherhood and a career.”