The Scandal and Carter O'Neill (15 page)

“Mom’s…ah…well, it’s been the two of us our whole lives, and she’s got some strong opinions on being a single mom and having relationships.”

“So I’m not going to be meeting her anytime soon?”

“Not for as long as I can help it.”

“Come on, in the battle of the mothers you’re telling me yours is worse than mine?”

“My mom has this saying that she’s been drilling into my head since I was a kid—”

“Eat your vegetables?”

She snorted. “I wish. No, she says, only pain is guaranteed.”

“That’s funny. My mother always said that trust is only rewarded with pain.” Carter shrugged. “Maybe in the worst mother competition it’s a tie.”

“No, yours wins. Hands-down. Penny is a pain, but she stuck around,” she whispered.

She kissed his hand and felt such warmth. Such lightness of being she could barely keep still.

“I know that we don’t know everything about each other,” she said, because she just could not shut up. “I have secrets, and from the conversation you had with your sister, I’m guessing you have some of your own.”

“And?” he asked, but surprisingly the Carter O’Neill mask of displeasure didn’t appear and it gave her courage to go on.

“And, if you want, you could tell me,” she said.

“My secrets?” he asked.

“Yeah. Whatever it is your mom’s got on you. Or—” she shrugged “—not. Either way, I just want you to know that I’ll listen.” He was quiet for a long time and she glanced up at him.

“I’ve never had friends,” he said, shaking his head. “Growing up, I had only my brother and sister, and when I left Bonne Terre, I left them behind.”

She swallowed a mouthful of cookie, the loneliness around him like a fog.

“I’ll be your friend,” she whispered.

“You already are,” he said. The stool grated across the tile floor as he stood and approached her, his every muscle coiled and flexing in the moonlight. “And I’ll tell you a secret, Zoe. Not all of them, but I’ll tell you one right now.”

His hands cupped her face and slowly slid down her neck, over her breasts, suddenly hot and heavy with a desire she thought had been satisfied. Her nipples hardened and she sighed with pleasure as his hands curved over the taut swell of her belly, feeling every contour of the sleeping baby inside.

“What’s…ah…your secret?” she asked, her train of thought totally derailed.

“I didn’t know this about myself,” he said. “But I think I’m hot for pregnant women.”

“We’ll have to keep you away from Lamaze classes,” she said, and the heat between them dissipated as they both laughed so hard they had to lean against each other.

“Zoe,” he said. “This is really strange, but I’m so glad you stood up on that chair.”

She leaned back, surprised and touched. Warmth filled her like sunshine on a hot day. “Me, too,” she whispered. “Me, too.”

The phone on the counter buzzed with an e-mail, ruining the mood, and she sat back, trying not to be irritated because he had warned her that he didn’t turn the phone off for anyone.

But honestly, it was the middle of the night and she was naked.

Without batting an eye, Carter just reached over and held down the power button.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Turning it off. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.”

Well, she thought, letting him pull her from her chair and lead her back into the lush shadows of the back bedroom—as far as tokens of his affection, that one was hard to beat.

IT WAS THANKSGIVING AND Carter had spent most of the day working from home, starting some campaign financing initiatives and looking over staff résumés that Amanda had forwarded him. He had the football game going on the TV in the corner, but by three o’clock he was done pretending that he wanted to work. Or even needed to.

He looked over the stuff on his desk and knew nothing was urgent.

The press conference yesterday had gone off without a hitch and already he’d gotten several calls of support. Eric Lafayette had come by the office with a giant check.

“We need more men like you working for this city,” he’d said, and Carter’s belief in himself, in the good he could do for Baton Rouge, had skyrocketed. All those second thoughts brought on by his mother were gone.

Hell, even Blackwell was leaving him alone.

But now it was Thanksgiving Day, and there was nothing that needed to be done. He had a fridge full of Thanksgiving Day food but no one to share it with. He checked his watch—driving down to Bonne Terre now would get him there far too late for dinner, and besides, he didn’t really want to see his family.

He wanted to see Zoe.

Zoe in the moonlight. Zoe laughing so hard salsa splattered out of her mouth. Zoe curled up beside him, the weight of that baby pressed against his hip.

Operating on instinct he packed up all the food, including the remaining sugar pie, and left his house. Zoe was going to be thrilled to see him, or maybe she’d be thrilled to see the sugar pie, but either way, this was the way he wanted to spend Thanksgiving.

In her gypsy camp.

He wouldn’t even give her a hard time about the candles she would no doubt light.

His car lights flashed and the horn honked when he pressed the unlock button on his key ring.

“Hi, Carter,” someone whispered, and he jumped out of his skin.

“Who—?”

His mother stepped out of the shadows beside his garage.

“CHRIST, MOM, YOU NEARLY gave me a heart attack!” he said.

“Sorry,” she murmured, lingering in the hazy place between shadow and late-afternoon sunlight.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. I was about to go up and knock on your door.”

“You okay?” He noticed that her lip was swollen and she held her hand against her chest as if it hurt. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, her smile quick and painful looking. “Nothing you need to worry about. I saw you on TV. Mayor, huh?”

“That’s the plan,” he said on a gust of breath. He wasn’t impatient, he just didn’t understand why she was here.

“Now that’s a con,” she said with a shake of her head. “Fundraising money alone would keep you in champagne—”

“It’s not a con,” he said, angry that she saw everything within those parameters. “I think I could do some good. I’m not sure you’re familiar with the concept.”

Her eyes were shadowed and the smile fled her face. Her lip looked painful, and he leaned closer to see her, but she backed farther into the shadows.

“What happened to your lip—”

“I’m fine. Trust me. I’ve had worse.”

The silence dripped and simmered between them.

“How’s work—” he said, just as she said, “So, it’s Thanksgiving.”

They laughed awkwardly.

“Work’s…ah…fine. Good. Doing real good,” she said. “Boss really likes me.”

“That’s great,” he said, wondering if everything that came out of her mouth was a lie or just seemed like it.

“So, it’s Thanksgiving,” Vanessa said. “You going to Bonne Terre?”

“No,” he said. “It’s too late.”

“You got a bunch of food,” she said, looking down at the bag and Carter suddenly realized that his mother wanted them to share the holiday.

Like a regular family.

His stomach churned with horror and pity.

“I’m going to Zoe’s,” he said.

“Ah, right. Girlfriend.” She smiled and he didn’t deny the title, even though she clearly expected him to. “That’s nice.”

“Mom…” Unbelievably, he felt bad. He didn’t understand how she did it, but he stood here feeling bad that the mother who’d deserted him years ago had no one to spend the holiday with.

“Don’t worry, Carter. I understand. I’m not even sure why I came.”

“I’d invite you, but she’s not even expecting me.”

“Well, I’m not quite the mother you bring to meet the girlfriend.”

He laughed, but she didn’t.

“Mom, are you okay? I mean, your lip? Do you need…help?”

“No. The last thing I need is help. I’m an O’Neill, remember? We take care of ourselves. I was just looking for company.”

“Maybe…” He couldn’t believe it as the words came out of his mouth, but they did, even though he knew his sister would kill him. “Another time?”

Her smile was brief, but it was the most sincere thing he’d ever seen on his mother’s face. He suddenly remembered that before she’d left him with Margot and never looked back, this was the woman who had taken him to the pool. Put him to bed at night. Kissed his knees when he fell down.

The tenderness had been so easy to forget. He’d had to forget it, just to pull his family forward out of the abyss she’d dropped them into.

She retreated back into the shadows and he opened his door, but then stopped. He had to tell her that this tie that bound them, this secret that had become a wall that separated him from every single thing he’d ever cared about, was about to be ripped away.

“I’m going to tell her,” he said and he saw her turn, knowing immediately what he was talking about.

“The alibi?” she asked, and he could hear the disbelief in her voice.

He nodded.

“You sure that’s smart? You have a lot at stake now.”

He knew that, but he also knew that if he didn’t tell Zoe, he’d lose her. Maybe not now, but at some point he’d freeze her out again, because this secret was ice in his veins. “What if she’s spying?”

“She isn’t. I know she isn’t.” End of discussion.

“You know, trusting people, sometimes—”

“You’re a little late for motherly advice.”

“Okay,” she said, holding up her hands and he could see that two of her fingers were clearly broken. “Do what you have to do.”

“Mom, what happened to your hand? This is crazy!”

“It’s fine, Carter. Go to your girlfriend’s. Have a nice time.”

“Here,” he said, reaching into the bag of food. “Take a sugar pie,” he said. “I think Katie made it.”

For a second something crumbled in her. All the support beams holding her up buckled and he saw an unfathomable pain that scratched at him.

“No thanks,” she breathed.

And then she was gone.

“MOM, PLEASE, I AM BEGGING you to take the turkey out now!” Zoe cried, leaning against the counters in her own kitchen—a kitchen in which she was currently a stranger. But that’s the way it was with Mom, she just took the space over. Made it hers.

“Sure,” Penny said, emptying the potatoes Zoe had just mashed into a chipped china bowl that had come back from Houston with her. “I could take it out now and poison everyone.”

“It won’t actually poison us,” Ben said, usually so calm but getting a little anxious about his organic, free-range, very expensive bird. Ben didn’t know about Penny’s take-no-prisoners Thanksgiving process. “I brined it first and it takes much less time to cook.”

“You don’t say?” Penny said, sprinkling cheese and green onions over the potatoes in a way that said she didn’t care if he’d carried this bird to term and delivered it fully cooked—it wasn’t coming out of the oven until Penny was ready.

“Wow,” Ben breathed to Phillip, who only shrugged.

“Luckily her stuffing and cranberry sauce is amazing, so we won’t starve,” Phillip whispered.

The front door buzzed and Zoe pressed her intercom.

“Zoe?” Carter’s disembodied voice floated through the speaker. Carter. Carter was on the other side of that door.

And her mother was on this side.

“You didn’t tell me we were expecting someone else,” Penny said, arching one eyebrow.

“We aren’t,” she said, taking a quick look over at Ben and Phillip. Ben shook his head no, but Phillip, who could almost always read Zoe’s mind, was silently clapping.

This can’t be happening, she thought, pressing the button to let him in.

A few moments later there was a light tapping on the door and she walked on numb feet to answer it. Having her mother and Carter in her apartment at the same time would be a Thanksgiving Day massacre.

She opened the door a crack and wedged herself into the opening. Carter glittered in late-afternoon sunlight, all shiny and golden, the most handsome man who’d ever stood on her doorstep, and Zoe’s body sighed with fond memories.

“Hey,” she said, nearly panting from the sudden stress.

“Hey, yourself!” He held up Savannah’s bag of food. “I brought Thanksgiving—”

“Who is it, honey?” Penny yelled and Zoe winced.

“Oh.” Carter’s face fell. “You’ve got people over. Of course.”

Oh, he was hurt. She could see it on his face and it was the last thing she wanted. “Please, Carter, it’s not that I don’t want you here—” It’s that I can’t have you here.

“Zoe? What are you doing?” The door was pulled out of her hand and she knew that she couldn’t avoid this. She could only hope that whatever Carter felt for her would survive Penny’s stubborn, protective love for her.

“This is my mom, Penny,” Zoe said.

“Nice to meet you,” Carter said, sticking out his hand, the perfect gentleman. Zoe wanted to tell him to run while he could, because her mom was going to eat him alive.

Penny shut right down, nothing but bricks behind her eyes.

“Humph,” she said, looking him up and down as if he were roadkill before she walked away, yelling, “We don’t have enough food,” over her shoulder.

Zoe rested her head against the door, her eyes shut. “I want you to come in, but if you do, there’s a good chance that by the end of the night you’ll never want to see me again.” She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “And I’m not exaggerating.”

“I’m tough, Zoe. And what I feel for you is pretty tough, too.”

Oh. Oh. Well, that was just the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.

He capped it off by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Your mom doesn’t scare me. Much,” he whispered.

“In that case, come on in.”

She opened the door to her home and her family, and it all felt better with him here. Warmer, brighter, a better place to be, and she really hoped he was right about the strength of his feelings. Because they were about to take a beating.

“I know I’m unexpected, but I come with food,” he said, swinging the bag of food up onto a clear patch of counter. “Including sugar pie—it’s sort of a family tradition.”

“Oh, we know all about your family traditions, Carter O’Neill. I read the paper,” Penny said, her look poisonous.

“Well you can’t believe everything you read, Ms. Madison, but I will admit we’re a colorful crowd. And damn good cooks, especially my sister. Please make use of whatever you can.”

Zoe had to admit, Carter was as smooth as a calm lake, and she exhaled the breath she’d been holding. She tucked her arm in his and turned him toward warmer waters.

“This is my friend Phillip and his partner, Ben—”

“Ben Grovener?” Carter asked, shaking Ben’s hand. “I heard a rumor—”

“That I had died?” Ben joked. “Well, you know what Twain said—the rumors were greatly exaggerated.”

Carter laughed appreciatively before replying, “No, I heard that you were back at work. That’s fantastic.” His enthusiasm was sincere and it made her like him even more, as if that were possible. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a car, but every day is better than the last, so I can’t complain.” Ben poured Carter a glass of wine from one of the three bottles that Phillip had brought. “And you, running for mayor, that’s good news for this city.”

“Well, I hope so,” Carter said, taking the glass. Zoe shared a long look with Phillip.

“We can double-date now,” Phillip whispered, and Zoe smiled, happiness building up inside her like champagne bubbles.

“I have some big plans,” Carter said, “some neighborhood initiatives and some ideas that I think would help us bring in more national conferences and tourism…” Carter trailed off and smiled, embarrassed, and Zoe just wanted to curl him up and put him in her pocket, he was so sweet. “I’ve been alone working all day,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t quite shut up.”

“Don’t shut up on my account,” Ben said. “The truth is…” He glanced back at Phillip, who only shrugged.

“It’s your life, sweetie,” Phillip said. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“The truth is, I would love to hear more about your ideas in an official capacity,” Ben said.

Carter’s eyebrows elevated. “If that’s you asking for a job, you’re hired. You’re a fighter, Ben, and I have admired your work for a long time. I know you’re active in the state building, but if you’re interested in city politics, I’d love to have you on my team.”

Ben blinked and Zoe rocked back while Phillip stroked Ben’s shoulder, the most colorful political wife the city had ever seen. “I’ll call on Monday,” Ben said. “We can talk more then.”

“I look forward to it,” Carter said and took a sip of wine before turning to Zoe.

“Look at you,” she said, cupping her hands over his elbows and giving him a little shake and a squeeze. “Handing out jobs and sugar pie—you’re going to be a great mayor.”

“Well, I’m not there yet,” he said, but Zoe leaned in to kiss him anyway. Mayor or not, she was totally smitten. Those little seeds of attraction and affection were growing into some foreign flower, an exotic plant that felt a lot like love.

And she wasn’t scared. Standing there on the high wire of her life, she wasn’t scared of her feelings for this man she hardly knew.

And maybe that should concern her, but she simply couldn’t work up the energy.

The slam of the oven door and the crash of a roasting pan hitting the counter snapped Zoe away from Carter.

“Mom, you okay?” she asked, but the second she got a look at her mother’s face, she knew what was coming.

“I’m fine,” her mother snapped. “But you need to get your head examined.”

“Uh-oh,” Phillip muttered.

“Mom,” Zoe begged. “Please, don’t—”

“Am I supposed to sit idly by while you pretend you’re not having a baby? While you run around acting like you have no responsibilities to anyone but yourself?”

“I’m not pretending anything,” she said, forcing herself to keep her cool and not rise to this old and tired bait. “I’m living my life and enjoying myself—”

“And how much are you going to be enjoying yourself when you’re raising a baby all by yourself, you’re exhausted and stressed out, and this man is nowhere to be seen?”