Susan Mallery - Lip Service

The second book in the Lone Star Sisters series, 2009

“I’ D LIKE YOUto marry my daughter.”

Skye Titan was having enough trouble balancing a small tray with two drinks and a plate of appetizers in one hand while reaching for the study door with the other. A sudden inability to breathe only complicated the stability problem.

Thirty seconds ago she would have thought that nothing her father said could surprise her anymore. She would have been wrong.

Talk about humiliating, she thought, wondering if Jed Titan’s statement was meant to buy a son-in-law or sell a daughter. With him, she couldn’t be sure.

“Izzy?” the other man asked, his voice clearly audible, despite the thick door between them.

“No. Skye.”

“Oh.”

Skye waited impatiently.

“Oh?” Was that the best he could do? Annoyance grew as time ticked on.

“I guess that would work, too,” the other voice said at last.

Skye practically growled in irritation. Words to make her heart beat faster for sure. So charming. How was she going to keep from throwing herself at T. J. Boone when she walked into the study?

If she had been any less the well-trained hostess, not to mention a dutiful daughter, she would have pushed open the door, tossed the drinks in both their faces and left the house, never to be heard from again.

“Egotistical jackass bastard,” she muttered, not sure if she meant the insult for T.J. or her father. They both deserved it.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, then imagined herself sinking into the big tub in the bathroom off her bedroom. Bubbles up to her chin, a glass of white wine to take off the edge. She was calm and in control. She was going to do the right thing, because that’s who she was. The good girl, dammit. The one who served drinks to men like T.J. and her father.

Skye opened the door to the study and stepped inside the room. The two men stood next to the pool table. Jed didn’t bother acknowledging her while T.J. looked momentarily uncomfortable. As if he wondered whether she’d heard him condemn her with faint praise.

She smiled as she offered the successful businessman his drink, wishing she’d thought to spit in it first.

“T.J.,” she said.

“Skye.”

He was good-looking, in a blond, blue-eyed sort of way. Tall and well dressed. He was a Texas boy and was probably charming, but it was hard to notice when the unenthusiastic “I guess that would work, too” was bouncing around in her brain.

She set the appetizers on the table in the corner. “Is there anything else, Daddy?” she asked.

“That’s all, Skye.”

“Then I’ll say good-night.”

Her hostess duties completed, her temper still firing, albeit silently, she left the room and walked to the stairs. Once on the third floor, she made her way to the last room on the left. During the day, it was a bright open space done in primary colors. A big bed sat by the window overlooking the main pasture. At night, shadows closed in, but seven-year-old Erin was never afraid of the dark. She wasn’t afraid of anything. A quality she must have inherited from her father, Skye thought enviously.

Now Erin lay sleeping, a tiny curled-up bump under the covers. Skye sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at her child.

“I love you, Bunny Face,” she whispered.

Erin didn’t stir.

Skye rose and walked the few feet to her own bedroom. Her younger-by-a-year sister, Izzy, sprawled on the big bed, watching television. She muted the sound when Skye entered.

“Don’t you have a TV in your own room?” Skye asked.

“Sure, but using yours is more fun. Who’s the guy?”

“T. J. Boone. You’re the one he wants.”

Izzy sat up, her dark curly hair a halo around her head. “What are you talking about?”

Skye walked to the bathroom and turned on the tub. While water thundered out, she poured in jasmine-scented bath oil that foamed and made bubbles.

“Jed told T.J. that he’d like him to marry his daughter. T.J. asked about you but Jed informed him that I was the daughter being auctioned off. T.J. paused for a very long time before agreeing that I would do.” Skye returned to the bedroom, then swore softly. “Did I remember to bring up a big bottle of wine? Of course not.”

Izzy bounced to her feet. “What are you talking about? Of course he wants you. You’re gorgeous.”

That was stretching it, but Skye wasn’t going to refuse the compliment.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not letting Jed pick a husband for me. Been there, done that.”

“Bought the T-shirt,” Izzy added helpfully.

She’d done more than that. She’d married the man in question because it was what her father wanted. Because it was the right thing to do, or so it had seemed at the time.

“I have a backbone,” Skye said, feeling dissatisfied with her life and not clear on why. “I’m sure of it. If I didn’t have a backbone, I couldn’t walk upright. I’m twenty-six years old, a widow and single mother. Shouldn’t I be the one running my life?”

“You are,” Izzy said, then shrugged. “Sort of.”

“How wonderful. I’m a role model for doormats everywhere.”

“You’re not a doormat.”

Skye shook her head. “Sorry. This should be a pity party for one. I didn’t mean to include you. Why don’t you go downstairs and flaunt yourself in front of T.J.? Show him what he’ll never have.”

Izzy frowned. “Are you okay? I can stay and keep you company.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to take a bath where I’ll be floating in a sea of denial.” Because her bad mood wasn’t just because of T.J.’s obvious rejection. She wasn’t interested in him or any man. It was her father assuming once again he could control her life. Because she’d let him…more than once.

“Sk-ye.” Izzy drew the word out into two syllables. “Don’t make me sing ‘The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow’ until you beg for mercy, because I will.”

Skye laughed. “Okay. I’ll be good. Now run along and make trouble. We’ll both feel better for it. I’ll be fine. I just need to get some sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

Izzy hesitated, then left. Skye returned to the bathroom and turned off the water. She pinned up her hair, then undressed and climbed into the tub. But no matter that she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, she kept hearing the conversation between T.J. and Jed. And kept getting mad. Mostly at herself. For being the kind of person who did what she was told.

Because she was the good sister. The one who followed the rules. Who did the expected.

“I hate people like that,” she said aloud into the empty room. So why had she become one of them?

IZZY WAITED until T.J. stepped out onto the front porch of the house. She’d grown up lurking in shadows, spying on her older sisters, who seemed to have all the fun. She was used to being stealthy.

When she was sure he hadn’t noticed her, she crept up behind him and said, “Hi,” in a loud voice. It was hard not to laugh when he jumped.

“Jesus,” he yelled as he turned. “You scared me.”

“Good. I understand we’re soon to be brother and sister. That’s very cool. I’ve always wanted an older brother. You can teach me all kinds of things.”

T.J. stood a good ten inches taller than her, but Izzy wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She wasn’t there to fight fair and would use every advantage to bring the jerk to his knees. Scaring him had just been a happy bonus.