Sweet Surprise
Authors: Candis Terry
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Western, #Contemporary Fiction, #Westerns, #Contemporary, #Romance
With much warm and squishy love, I’m dedicating this one to you my beautiful daughter Kristalle, because I don’t ever want you to wonder how I feel. The road we’ve traveled hasn’t always been easy, but along the way you’ve taught me so much about unconditional love. You gave me purpose. You make me laugh so hard sometimes I can’t breathe. And you’re an amazing mom. I’m so proud of you. Love you to the moon and back.
I
will never tire of having the opportunity to thank my amazing editor, Amanda Bergeron. Please know how important your incredible insight is to my stories and characters. Thank you for making me a better storyteller. And thank you for being so patient when things don’t always come together smoothly.
Shout-out to the incredibly talented team at Avon Books for everything you do for me. And it’s a lot!
Enormous gratitude to my agent, Kevan Lyon. You truly have no idea how very thankful I am for your bright, savvy spirit, your knowledge, and ideas. I look forward to many years of digging our toes in the publishing sand together.
Delicious thanks to Linda Lee at Sugar Rush Cupcakery in Boise, Idaho, for showing me how it’s done and for making the most delicious cupcakes on the planet!
Research is always more fun when you get the goods from a guy who really knows his stuff. So I really want to thank fire captain Mark Lepore (and Diane, his lovely bride). My hot firemen heroes would be just standing there holding their hoses without your expertise. And that might be a little embarrassing. Any mistakes made within these pages are clearly all my own. Simply because . . . I don’t have a hose.
Thanks always to my family for their patience and understanding. Yeah. I know. I get cranky when I’m on a deadline. I’m sorry.
And to Isaiah Beal, thanks for keeping the coffee coming. Bet you thought I really wouldn’t put your name in here.
F
iona Wilder did not like being the center of attention. The intense scrutiny never failed to make her feel like she had toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shoe, or that the back of her dress was caught up in her panty hose and her rearview assets were out there for everyone to observe.
And judge.
At the moment, however, while she might be near the focal point of every hungry pair of female eyes in the vicinity, she wasn’t necessarily the nucleus. That honor went to the man she happened to be dancing with at the wedding reception of Reno and Charlotte Wilder.
As just one of their numerous preceremony calamities, Reno and Charli’s postnuptial festivities had needed to be relocated from a flooded reception hall to Jesse Wilder’s backyard oasis. The picturesque landscape had been transformed into a wedding wonderland of twinkling fairy lights, floating lotus candles in a natural, stone-edged pool, and elegant tables set with fabulous centerpieces of curly willow branches and fragrant roses.
Not a surprise that Fiona found the romantic atmosphere far superior to anything a dusty old reception hall could offer. On the other hand, she couldn’t be more surprised to find herself in the arms of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious.
AKA firefighter Mike Halsey.
Previously, he’d been one of the bachelors up for auction at the Black Ties and Levi’s charity event to raise funds for the expansion of the Sweet Emergency Center. On that particular night, she’d either been too chicken or not nearly schnockered enough to raise her paddle and bid on him even though just the sight of his extreme hotness in those fitted Levi’s, crisp white shirt, and black tux jacket practically had her bid paddle melting in her lap. In the end, her former mother-in-law, Jana, had plunked down a good amount of cash to
win
Mike. Though what the woman planned to do with him remained to be seen.
The truth behind the reason Fiona’s paddle had stayed put also came as no surprise.
At least not to her.
Since the dissolution of her and Jackson Wilder’s short but meaningful marriage, she’d pushed aside any type of personal involvement with the opposite sex. Not that she’d decided to play for the other team or anything, she’d just been too busy repenting for her failures and playing the role of single mom to their four-year-old, Isabella.
Plus there was the minor little detail of the whole trust issue thing she had going on with herself. Instead of graduating, as she had, with a business degree from Clemson, you would have thought she’d acquired a master’s degree in
How to Screw Up Your Life.
There had never been any doubt that Jackson was an amazing dad to Izzy, and Fiona considered him one of the best men she’d ever known. He just hadn’t been the best man for her. Likewise, she hadn’t been the right woman for him. Fortunately, they loved and respected each other and totally rocked as best friends and unified parents.
Life sure had a funny way of working things out.
Since their divorce, Jackson had rediscovered Abby, the true love of his life. Abby also happened to be his very first love, which he foolishly let go. Now Jackson and Abby were next in line to walk down the aisle, and Fiona truly couldn’t be more delighted for them. To know the universe had somehow righted itself sent bubbles of happiness through her heart.
To that end, and because someday she’d like to find that same kind of relationship bliss for herself, she’d done everything in her power to banish
Naughty Fiona
—her inner wild child–an insatiable party girl who had a tendency to fall in lust, not love, with gorgeous firemen or men of that same dashing-daredevil breed. The kind of men who possessed sculpted calendar-boy faces, perfect pecs, rippled abs, and tight buns. The kind of men who appeared to be unattainable and whom she now considered off-limits.
She didn’t have time anyway. Her plate was full with building a happy and prosperous future for her and Izzy. She might have messed up a lot earlier in her life by being foolish and reckless, but she wouldn’t let that happen again.
Naughty Fiona was on lockdown in bad-girl solitary confinement.
As the reception band’s lively cover of “Beer Money” came to an end, and the two-steppin’ couples cleared the floor, Fiona gave sexy Fireman Mike a smile of thanks for the dance. He returned the gesture with a megawatt grin. But as the band rolled into Keith Urban’s sexy tune “Raining on Sunday,” Mike maintained a gentle grip on her hand.
She looked up into his dark-as-sin eyes, and a warm tingle traveled from her traitorous fingers down into areas that had been restrained so long they teetered on the point of a jailbreak.
“How about another dance?” Mike’s smile amped up to blinding. “We didn’t get a chance to talk much on that last one.”
Nervous energy rippled through her body. She knew that the envious scowls coming from the females in the crowd who were waiting eagerly for
their
chance at Mr. Hottie McFireman would soon turn to daggers. And since her naughty side had lusted after the man since that night at the bachelor auction, all the more reason to politely decline.
But then, that big firefighting, lifesaving hand reeled her back into his embrace—close enough to catch the manly scent of warm skin, citrusy aftershave, and palpable sexuality.
Heaven help her, it was like waving a red flag at a charging bull.
“I’d love to.”
Yeah. No way in all the Land of Oz would her naughty self give up a chance like this.
Sorry ladies-in-waiting, let the dagger glares commence.
And let the trouble begin.
A
fter months of being unable to get his best friend’s ex-wife off his mind, Mike finally had his hands on her. Regrettably for him, a simple dance was about as far as he could ever allow himself to go.
Not that he didn’t want to dip his nose into the soft slope of Fiona’s delicate neck and inhale her sweet scent or explore her lithe, luscious body.
Hell no. He wanted a double order of that all night long.
But time and circumstance slammed the door on any of that being a possibility. So all he could do was enjoy the moment and the chaste touches, then go home and take a freezing-cold shower.
Again.
“Jackson tells me you made the delicious wedding cake,” he said, keeping things polite even as his imagination was peeling her pretty blue dress down over those sexy shoulders.
“Thank you.” She blushed prettily as her hand settled on his shoulder, and warmth nestled in his chest. “Charli originally ordered one from a bakery in Austin. But along with all the other disasters she had to deal with, the bakery burned down.”
“So I heard.” While others on the dance floor twirled in wide sweeps to the music, he and Fiona danced in place–thighs brushing together with perfect synchronization. Hearts beating in time. He couldn’t help but wonder if they’d have that same harmony between the sheets. “Guess their determination to go through with the wedding after all the mishaps is a testament to how the rest of their marriage will go.”
Her sexy chuckle rumbled against his chest.
“I’m not worried about that. Have you met Charli?” She looked up at him, and the impish curl of her lips sent a flutter through his stomach. “When there’s something she wants, she is like an unstoppable force. And she
wanted
Reno.”
“You have to admire a woman who won’t let anything stand in her way.” A lively couple bumped him from behind, and he took the opportunity to draw Fiona into his body a little closer. In a blink, he realized the move might have been a huge tactical error. And that was not an egotistical observation on the size of his dick. Although the body part in question was exactly the problem that had come up.
Aside from the sheer sexiness level, Fiona was the kind of woman a man wanted to adore and savor. To possess and protect. To make her his very own and never let her go. Crazy talk coming from a guy like him. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself.
“I also heard you’re planning to open a cupcake shop in Sweet,” he said without missing a beat. “That’s quite a bold venture.”
“It’s been a longtime dream for me. Seeing it become a reality is going to be amazing. Izzy and I are even moving to Sweet to make it happen.”
“So what inspired the dream?” he asked, hoping the band would play an extended version of the song so he could keep her talking. And moving against him.
The spark of enthusiasm in her deep blue eyes propelled a thousand questions through his mind.
More than a mild curiosity existed where she was concerned. He wanted to know more about her. What made her tick? What did she love and hold dear to her heart? And how, if she’d seen fit to divorce Jackson, they could remain as bonded as peanut butter and jelly?
A sentimental smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “My grandmother.”
As she spoke, Mike noted how animated her face became. It was like observing one of those Disney princesses he’d been forced to watch with his sisters over and over. Her eyes lit up, and she got this dreamy expression that sent his jaded heart into cartwheels.
Fiona Wilder fascinated him. And he doubted there’d ever been a man who wanted a woman more.
As the song ended, and she slipped from his arms, he suffered a sense of loss he’d be hard to compare.
“Thank you for the dance,” she said with the slightest tilt of her head. Her silky blond hair slipped across one slender shoulder, and he couldn’t help but reach out and smooth it back.
“My pleasure. I hope we’ll have the chance to meet again,” he said, refraining from a princely bow or a kiss on her hand that would only serve to make him look like an infatuated ass.
“Me too.” She smiled again, something she did often and with incredible ease.
“In the meantime, if you ever need anything . . .” He winked. “Just dial 911.”