Beth Ciotta - Anything but Love

He still couldn’t believe he’d had sex with her. Especially since she’d been drinking. He’d never taken advantage of a woman like that. He’d meant to walk her to her door then walk away. But she’d wobbled and he’d steadied her. The moment they’d touched … Pow ! She’d kissed him or maybe he’d kissed her. He didn’t even know. It was all a blur. A spontaneous carnal mating that dogged his conscience and dreams.

“Yo. Luke.”

Luke blinked and focused on his sister. “What?”

“Chloe asked if you wanted more tea.”

Rattled, he shifted in his chair. “Uh. No. Thanks.” Considering he was in the company of eight ladies, one of them his grandma, three of them as old as his grandma, he was more than a little embarrassed that he’d been fantasizing about nailing Rae. “So am I in or out?”

They all gawked.

“Of the club,” he clarified.

They traded another round of those cryptic looks.

“Here’s the thing, sweetie.” Daisy pushed her blingy cat-eye glasses up her nose then reached over and patted his hand. “We don’t think you have a real passion for baking and that’s the number-one requirement for being a Cupcake Lover.”

“I don’t believe this. You’re kicking me out of the club.”

“We wouldn’t do that,” Judy said.

“Especially given your state,” Helen said.

Luke frowned. “What state is that?”

“Depressed.”

“Bored.”

“Lonely.”

“Single.”

Luke blinked around the table. What the—

“To my recollection,” Ethel said, “You’ve always had two or three girlfriends at a time.”

“You don’t have any now,” Casey said. “Haven’t had since … when?”

“It’s been months,” Monica said with an ornery twinkle in her eye.

He blamed Rae.

“It was sex, just sex, and not even great sex at that.”

Every other woman he’d ever been with had declared him a god in bed. Then again, he hadn’t even made it to the bed with Rae.

“You’re off your game,” Chloe said with a sympathetic smile.

“And so close to Valentine’s Day,” Helen said. “Doubly depressing.”

“Have you thought about Ellie Tate?” Judy asked.

“You know,” Daisy said. “Bert Hawkins’s granddaughter. She recently moved back to town, fresh out of college. Doubt she’s ready for anything serious.”

“Young. Unfocused. Right up your alley,” Casey said.

Heart pounding, Luke gawked. Oh, hell, no. This same crew has been trying to match Sam up with a soul mate for weeks. Luke had caught a glimpse of that hell and wanted no part of it. “Can we get back to my status in the club, please?”

Rocky took pity on him. Sort of. “We’re not kicking you out, Luke. Just…”

“Don’t make any more cupcakes,” Daisy said.

“Unless supervised,” Chloe, his ever-kind someday sister-in-law, added.

“Speaking of Valentine’s Day,” Monica said to Rocky, “your wedding day is around the corner. Are you excited or what?”

And just like that the conversation turned to wedding plans—gown, flowers, honeymoon. As if that wasn’t bad enough, someone brought up bridesmaids’ dresses, which spurred mention of special fittings for Chloe, who was six-months pregnant, and Monica, who was newly pregnant and eating for three.

Baby talk .

Luke eyed Dev’s expensive wine rack, jonesing for a cheap beer and sports talk. He should have joined a damned bowling league.

“Thanks for picking me up, Sam.”

“No problem.”

“You didn’t tell anyone I was coming, right?”

“You asked me not to. Won’t take long for word to get out though. You know Sugar Creek.”

Yes, she did. A tight-knit community. The tourist element notwithstanding, everyone knew everyone’s business—mostly. Amazing that she’d maintained her ruse for an entire year. Then again, Rae had worked very hard at being invisible. She was done with that now. Ready to attack life as Reagan Deveraux. She intended to use her semicelebrity status and money to help the Cupcake Lovers and to resurrect Sugar Tots. But that wasn’t the only reason she’d returned to Sugar Creek.

Rae pulled up the fur-trimmed hood of her down-filled coat, shivering as a gust of frigid air blasted her face. February in Vermont.

“Colder than Los Angeles,” Sam teased as he relieved the pilot of her baggage.

“Just a little.” Juggling her purse and a rolling tote, Rae followed Sam across the tarmac to his truck. When she’d flown out of LAX, it had been in the low sixties. When she’d landed in Burlington it had been a brisk twenty-eight degrees. From there she’d rented a plane and pilot to take her to Starlight Field—a small airfield about thirty miles outside of Sugar Creek. It was dark now, after eight, and she’d wager the temperature was closer to twenty with a windchill of less. She didn’t mind the cold or the snow. She only wished she’d arrived during the daylight so she could’ve been welcomed by the beauty of the surrounding mountains.

“Let me take that.” Sam placed her tote in the backseat of his extended cab along with her two burgeoning suitcases.

“I’m sorry I made you miss the CL meeting tonight,” Rae said as Sam opened the truck door and helped her climb in.

“I’m not. I needed a break.” He shut the door and rounded the hood then climbed in, revved the engine, and cranked the heat. He did not, however, shift into gear.

Rae squirmed in her seat, shoved off her hood, and fastened her seat belt. “You’re staring.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Your hair.”

“Really short and really red. I know.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks.” She dragged an anxious hand through her cropped do and tried to acclimate to her new relationship with Sam. It had been easier long distance.

He’d been the only Cupcake Lover to write her back. Then again, she hadn’t included a return address on any of her letters and hadn’t openly invited a reply. It had been her way of putting the past to rest and moving on. Sam had gone out of his way and had finally obtained her PO Box information. His letter had been so kind and, at the time, she’d been in a bad place. His words had proved balm for her anxious soul. She’d felt compelled to call in response. They’d spoken a few times over the last two weeks, mostly to clear the air. But in those conversations they’d also struck up what Rae tentatively thought of as a friendship.

“You sure about this?”

Rae nodded. “Absolutely.”

“You don’t look sure.”

She shifted and, by the light of the moon on the dash, she caught the concern in Sam’s eyes. Concern and … a flash of desire. The latter was disconcerting. She thought they’d moved past that. They’d certainly discussed it. She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in an intimate relationship. He’d said he had no intention of pushing. She thought that meant he’d given up the pursuit. Now she wasn’t sure. It was troubling and flattering at the same time. Sam didn’t have a problem with her being an heiress. And he wasn’t intimidated by her college degree. His confidence was attractive. If only she were attracted .

She searched his ruggedly handsome face wondering why she couldn’t have fallen for him instead of Luke. Sam was grounded and successful. He had two great kids—Ben and Mina—whom she adored. He’d been attracted to Rae even when she’d been doing her best to look as drab and frumpy as possible. That was admirable, right? They’d had a date, one date, but she hadn’t felt a spark. Not then, not before. Certainly not after. Mostly she’d felt awkward.

Kind of like now.

“I’ll admit,” she finally said. “I’m a little apprehensive about reconnecting with everyone.” Luke’s reaction to her ruse was a bitter pill she’d yet to swallow. Would others lash out in kind? “After all, I lied about who I was. Am .”