Sweet Seduction (14 page)

Huh.

From where she stood, she watched her mother laughing and smiling. She marveled at the fact that she'd never seen her so lively. It was weird how she could be there, observing her mother, who appeared happier than Daisy had ever seen her before in her life, while Daisy, on the other hand, had never felt more heavy-hearted. Was that the universe's warped sense of humor or was it some karmic balance?

“I'm so glad you made it, Daisy.”

“Hey, Alex.” Daisy shook herself out of her metaphysical musing and tried to smile at her soon-to-be stepfather. Unfortunately, her lips weren't exactly cooperating.

“You look—”

“Terrible,” Daisy supplied. “We're family now. You don't need to lie.” She knew her eyes were swollen and her cheeks splotchy.

“I was going to say sad.” His brows drew together. “I'm really sorry you're going through such a hard time right now.”

Daisy nodded. “Me, too.”

“If there's anything I can do, let me know.”

Using the flute to point at her mother on the other side of the garden, Daisy said, “Just keep on making my mom happy. That's more than enough.” She set the glass down to open her bag. “And there's something I found today that I wanted to give you.”

She had placed the ring in a proper ring box, and now she removed it from her purse and showed it to Alex. “I'm sure you've already got a fabulous ring picked out, and I doubt if my mom would even want this, but it belonged to her mother and I remember...” Her words trailed off as a tightness seized her throat. She had a memory of her mother asking Nana if she could wear it because her grandmother rarely did. That was a long time ago.

“We haven't chosen rings yet.” He accepted the box. “This is beautiful. Thanks.” He took a step closer and gave her a big hug. “And thanks for coming. Your mom didn't expect you to show up. I'm really glad you did.”

The man had the good grace to leave before her tears began to fall unchecked down her cheeks. Daisy thought she'd cried herself out earlier in the week. First the signing of the papers, then when she'd had to give everyone at work their notices. That was a bad day. Bruce had had a breakdown in the kitchen, and there were more than a few tears shed by the rest of the staff.

Watching them all leave on the last day shattered Daisy's already broken heart.

“It's not your fault,” Lizzie had said, patting her shoulder while Daisy fought tears.

“It is my fault,” Daisy had said. “I should have figured something out sooner. I left it too long.”

“Everyone will get back on their feet. Don't worry.”

Wiping her nose, Daisy recalled asking, “What about you, Lizzie? What will you do?”

In typical Lizzie fashion, she'd shrugged. “I don't know. I'll find something. You know, there's a whole big world out there. So many opportunities. So many possibilities. It's kind of exciting and terrifying all at once.”

“Please don't say one door closes and three more open or I might lose it.”

Crinkling her nose, Lizzie said, “I've seen you lose it, boss lady. It's not pretty. Not a big fan of seeing that whole thing—” Lizzie made a circular gesture in Daisy's general direction “—again. Nope. No, thank you.”

Daisy had given her a fierce hug, saying, “You've been the best employee I've ever had.”

“You've been the most entertaining boss. By far.” Lizzie hugged back just as fiercely. “Now, go see what's behind one of those other doors.”

As Daisy recalled the conversation, she found herself smiling. God, she was going to miss Lizzie and her quirky ways. However, the minute she realized who was approaching from the other side of the garden, her smile fell right off, onto the grass.

The problem was, while Jamie Forsythe was the cause of so much distress in her life, he still had an immediate effect on her body. Some unknown muscle at the base of her tummy fluttered, her lungs forgot—temporarily—how to draw oxygen and her broken heart beat out of sync, as if there really were two parts vying for control.

Jamie stopped in front of her, looking cool and casual in his cotton shirt and trousers. His hair was swept back, mussed, as though he'd just run his fingers through it. Daisy's fingers twitched involuntarily with the memory of doing the very same thing.

The sight of him had Daisy playing the “if only” game. If only things had been different. If only they had met at a different stage of life. If only he hadn't been hired by her ex. If only he didn't drive a motorcycle. If only he really was his brother, the food critic...

“If onlys” are a waste of energy. What-ifs are so much more productive.

“I know,” Daisy whispered. “But give me tonight to ‘if only.' I promise, I'll ‘what if' tomorrow.”

14

H
E
'
D
JUST
BEEN
thinking about Daisy and then, there she was, standing all alone in the corner of the yard, as if Jamie had somehow conjured her. He hadn't seen her since she'd signed the papers in his office. He'd been tempted to call her so many times, to see how she was. To ask if she was okay. But he'd controlled the urge.

It was for the best. In much too short a time, he'd become much too close to Daisy Sinclair, to the point that his thoughts about her were completely disproportionate to the short amount of time he'd spent with her. Just when he thought he was getting a handle on the situation and figured he'd never see her again, she was standing in front of him. Her cheeks ablaze, her eyes bright—beautiful—muttering something beneath her breath. A curse word?

He wouldn't blame her.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Stalking? No. A.J. invited me.”

Daisy shook her head, her hair brushing the skin of her shoulders. He couldn't decide which was more distracting, the swish of her soft hair against her skin or the sight of her bare shoulders.

“Who the hell is A.J.?”

Jamie gave her a perplexed look. “A.J. The groom.”

“Alexander? You know Alexander?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes. He's a member of my club.”

“He boxes? No way.”

“Yes, he does. How do you know him?”

“Ah, he's marrying my mother.”

Jamie blinked in disbelief. Cynthia was Daisy's mother?

“I know, right?” Daisy said with a sardonic smile. “It's okay. I get it all the time. Cynthia and I are nothing alike.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Jamie said, tilting his head to observe her anew. Both women were natural beauties. But where Cynthia was serious, Daisy had a certain zest. Where Daisy was soft and sweet and deliciously curvy, Cynthia was all sharp angles and hard planes. He was willing to bet Daisy smiled more, laughed more, enjoyed life more. Or at least, she had before she'd met him.

“Small world,” he muttered when he realized he'd been studying Daisy for longer than was polite. Not that being polite really mattered between them anymore.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Daisy's pretty face went through a whole range of expressions, smiling one second, then looking vexed and scowling the next.

“So,” she said. “How's the divorce business?”

“Daisy...”

She warded him off with raised hands. “It's okay. I'm totally over it.”

“No, you're not.”

She met his gaze. “No. I'm not.”

Jamie took a drink of his beer. “I don't know if you care but... I've been thinking about you, and I just want you to know, I'm really sorry.”

“It's funny,” she said. “People keep saying that, yet it really doesn't change anything.” She nibbled on her lower lip, and he wondered if it was an attempt to hide the quiver in her chin. If so, it wasn't working.

Yes. That was the other difference between Daisy and Cynthia. On the few occasions he'd met Cynthia, he'd considered her to be standoffish. Daisy, on the other hand, showed every single emotion she felt. Right now, he could see how upset she was.

“I don't know what else to say, Daisy,” he told her quietly.

With her arms crossed over her chest, Daisy responded, “Maybe that's because there's nothing left for either of us to say to one another.”

Her words were like an unexpected jab to the solar plexus. “So that's it?”

“Yes, Jamie. It is.”

Wow. Jamie rubbed the indentation between his brows, the one that had become much deeper in the last few weeks. He agreed with Daisy—logically—that things were over, had been for a while, and should definitely stay that way. Yet now that she'd articulated his very thoughts, he wanted nothing more than to rally against them and prove to her that they were both wrong. He longed to step closer, breathe in the scent of her skin—what flavor would she be today? Vanilla? Cinnamon? Or something more subtle, like rosemary?

His fingers yearned to caress the place where her hair brushed her bare shoulders. He longed to watch her lids grow heavy as he drew a line down her spine, not stopping when he reached the top of her lovely ass, but cupping her through her dress and squeezing, pulling her up against him so that she could feel the effect she had on him.

But no matter what he wanted physically, the sadness and accusation in her gaze spoke to his logic center, and it won out. “I get it, Daisy. Loud and clear. You don't want to see me again. I understand.” He tipped his beer to her before drinking, and the fizz burned his throat as he swallowed.

At that point, he should have left to join the other guests—after all, he knew a number of people at this party—but for some reason he was reluctant to leave her side, perhaps recognizing that the minute he did, he would never see Daisy again.

In the end, Daisy took the choice away from him. “Goodbye, Jamie.” Her lower lip trembled. With her head held high, she turned away, leaving him standing in the corner of a garden, drinking his beer as he watched the most beautiful, interesting, exciting woman he'd ever met walk away.

And he did it without a fight.

* * *

D
AISY
HAD
BARELY
taken ten steps before her mother spotted her and rushed across the patio in her direction. Daisy had never witnessed her mother “rushing” before in her life. It was a confusing sight.

“Daisy!” She held her ring finger up, displaying Nana's ring. “I love it. I love it so much!” Cynthia wrapped her thin arms around her and squeezed.

God, for someone so skinny, her mother was really strong.

“How did you know?” She pulled away, her face beaming as she continued to talk without giving Daisy a chance to answer. “I thought it was lost. Thought I'd never see it again. But here it is.” She held her hand out again and the diamonds sparkled in the waning sunlight. “Did you know I've always loved this ring? Alex and I haven't been able to find one that I like, and now I realize it's because I always imagined myself wearing
this
one.”

Had Daisy inadvertently entered the Twilight Zone? She'd never heard her mother “babble” either, which was exactly what her mother was doing. The world had gone completely bonkers.

Patting her mother on the back, she said, “I'm glad you like it.” When she started to pull away, her mother held on with all that weird, skinny strength of hers.

“I'm so glad you're here. I didn't think you'd make it and when I saw you, I meant to come over right away to thank you for coming and then Alexander gave me the ring and then everyone wanted to see and—”

“Uh, Mom? I have to go now.”

Cynthia finally let up, moving to grasp Daisy's hands. She smiled with a weird mixture of happiness, giddiness, and googly-eyed loopiness.

“It's been a long week,” Daisy explained, expecting her mother to insist she stay.

But she didn't. Nodding sympathetically, Cynthia said, “I understand. I'll walk you out. There's something I need to ask you before you go.” With her arm linked through Daisy's, Cynthia guided her through the house, introducing her to people as they went.

“This is my daughter—isn't she lovely?”

“This is Daisy. Yes, the one and only.”

By the time they got to the front door, they'd had fifteen miniconversations, and Daisy was surprised at how much her mother's friends seemed to know about her. Once out on the street, Daisy unlinked her arm and said, “What did you want to ask me?”

Licking her lips, Cynthia smiled a hopeful, wobbly, uncertain smile. “I'd like you to stand up for me at the wedding.”

“Me?” Daisy held a hand to her chest. “Why me?”

“Well, you are my daughter.”

“But,” Daisy said, confused, “we're not even close.” Motioning to the house, she added, “What about Julie? Or one of your other friends? You have a ton you could ask.”

“Wow.” Cynthia stood up straighter as she blinked back at Daisy. “I really have been a terrible mother, haven't I?”

“No,” Daisy said, automatically. Then she stopped herself. She was way too tired to play whatever game this was. “Actually.” She chewed her lip. “You were pretty terrible.”

A burst of air exploded between Cynthia's pursed lips and Daisy prepared herself for the excuses.
I was only seventeen when I had you. I never planned to get pregnant. Your father left the moment he found out.
Blah, blah, blah.

“You're right.”

Daisy flinched. “What did you say?”

“I said you're right. I've been horrible and I—” Just when Daisy didn't think her mother could surprise her more, a big fat tear escaped out of the corner of her eye and crept down her cheek, leaving a glistening streak through her makeup.

Cynthia was crying? Daisy couldn't remember seeing her mother cry, and the result was a huge lump lodged low in her throat.

“When Alexander came into my life, well, things changed for me, and I realized something important.”

“What?” Daisy asked slowly, because the thing stuck in her throat—the big, hot, messy thing—made it difficult to speak.

“I've been sabotaging myself my whole life.” She tapped her chest. “Me. I was the one who made the mistakes. I was the one who...” She paused to turn away, but not before Daisy saw two more tears streak down her cheeks. After a deep breath, she continued, “I was the one who messed up. I was the one to blame. Not you. It was never your fault.” She turned back and placed her hand on Daisy's cheek. “But I made you feel like it was, didn't I?”

When Daisy didn't answer, her mother nodded. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.

That did it. The thing in her windpipe broke open, scalding her throat, scorching her numb heart and stinging her eyes. Daisy couldn't reply because the thing had taken over her voice, her chest, her face...her whole body.

“I hope you will give me another chance.” Her mother's face looked so young and hopeful and human that it broke Daisy's heart.

“Of course.” Daisy hiccuped. “Of course I'll give you another chance. If you'll give me another chance.” Her mother's gasping breath made it hard to continue, but Daisy did anyway. She had to. “And...of course I'll stand up for you at your wedding. I'd be honored.”

“You will?” Those strong, skinny arms wrapped so tightly around her, Daisy could barely breathe.

But strangely, Daisy liked it, and she hugged her mother right back. Maybe the changes she'd noticed were real. And if so, didn't changing the dynamics of a relationship take effort from both parties? “Mom?”

“Yes?”

Her mother let up on her vise grip, allowing Daisy to take a deep breath. “Thanks for all the help with the fund-raiser.”

“You're welcome. I just wish we could have done more.”

Daisy pulled away. “More? You and Alex single-handedly brought in all of those celebrities. That was incredible.”

Her mother pulled a face. “No, we didn't.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No.” Cynthia laughed through her tears. “That was all Jamie.”

“Jamie?”

“Yep.”

“But...how?”

“Lots of those guys belong to his club.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Why do you think?”

“But he—”

“Was doing his job. While trying to protect you.” Her mother found a packet of tissues in her handbag and passed one to Daisy. “The man is smitten with you, Daisy. And I might not be the best person to give advice, but I can tell you this. He's one of the good guys. Do not let him go without a fight.”

* * *

T
ODAY
WAS
THE
day the movers were coming to pack up the bakery. Daisy had spent the week organizing everything, donating all the foodstuffs to the local food bank, itemizing what would be staying and what she'd be putting in storage. How long things would stay in storage kind of depended on Daisy's cash flow. After the sale went through, she would be able to pay off the mortgage she'd had to take out, and the line of credit for the new stoves. That left barely enough for a down payment on a house. Of course there was the fund-raiser money but that was earmarked for some future business endeavor and Daisy didn't have the energy to figure out what that might be yet, which was why she wasn't willing to sell her practically new industrial ovens.

“You can stay with me until you get back on your feet,” Gloria had told her, which was a really sweet offer, but Daisy felt the best thing for her would be to find something of her own to rent for now—somewhere she could settle, if only temporarily, but that would give her a sense of home and familiarity.

“If that's what you want to do, then let me help you. I've got some contacts. I'll line up some places, and we can go apartment hunting together. It'll be fun!”

So, today, instead of being there for the big move, Daisy had enlisted Lizzie's help to oversee everything in the bakery so that she could go apartment hunting with Gloria.

Seriously. Gloria was the best friend. Ever.

Daisy waved to her out the window when she pulled up in front of the bakery and was halfway down the stairs when she realized she'd left her phone beside her bed. Hurrying back up the stairs, she located the phone, unplugged it from the charger and turned to leave.

“Ouch!”

Hopping on one foot, she held on to the other, trying to figure out what she'd stepped on. Something shiny and round was on the floor beside the bed. Stooping down, Daisy picked up the culprit.

A cuff link?

Weird. It had been over a month since Jamie had been to her place. How could she not have noticed his cuff link on the floor before now? Turning it over in her hand, she was overcome by a vivid memory of Jamie there, in her bedroom, on her bed, tossing the cuff links onto the bedside table so he could remove his shirt. The image of his chest was so vivid, the muscles, the tattoos...the bruises.