Blue Skies, Season 2, Episode 8 (Rising Storm) (3 page)

“Marcus,” he repeated, a slow, sexy smile tilting his lips. “And me. Me being the relevant part of this conversation. Me—and you, that is.”

Marisol felt a shiver of something work its way down her spine. “Me and you.” Lord, she was still repeating.

“I’m hoping maybe we can have dinner tonight to celebrate?” he asked, his eyes full of laughter and something else. Something hotter. Something full of promise.

“Dinner would be great.” Amazing. Fabulous. Wonderful. Her stomach actually clenched with excitement.

“It’s a date then.” He leaned over and before she even had time to think about it, brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes, relishing his touch.

“Marisol Moreno, I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

Marisol sprang back, opening her eyes, coloring with guilt. Standing just across from her was her little brother Luis and his girlfriend Mallory, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Kinda feels nice to have the shoe on the other foot.” His grin turned mischievous.

“You show some respect for your sister, Luis,” Ian admonished, not looking the slightest bit embarrassed for having been caught kissing in front of her brother.

“Oh, I have nothing but respect, Mr. Briggs. And if I’m honest, I’m totally psyched. It’s about time Marisol let herself be happy. She’s been way too busy trying to take care of me and my sister. Thinks she doesn’t deserve her own life. But we know better, right?”

Marisol looked from a grinning Luis to Ian, who was clearly gloating. Mallory, who was standing behind Luis, waggled her eyebrows at Marisol and mouthed one word. “Men.”

“It’s Ian,” Ian was saying to Luis as he motioned to the table’s empty chairs. “Your sister was just helping me celebrate. Join us.”

Marisol jumped up to get sodas for her brother and Mallory, her head swimming and her body still reacting to what had merely been a simple kiss. That and the fact that he’d asked her to dinner.

Of course, he was still leaving.

But now that he’d bought land in Texas, surely that meant he’d at least be visiting now and then.  The relevant question being whether or not that was enough.

Truth be told, it wasn’t.

But then maybe she’d be smart to just take what she could get. After all, a girl didn’t have the chance to spend time with a man like Ian every day. A little bit was better than nothing. Right?

Her earlier joy evaporated as reality set in. Ian was the kind of man she could so easily lose her heart to. And anything he felt—well, it had to be temporary, didn’t it? He knew she wasn’t going to leave Storm. And she knew that eventually he’d be heading back to Montana.

Which left her where exactly?

Flirting with disaster
.

Chapter 2

Sebastian Rush walked out of his office, wondering how the hell it had all come to this. He and Payton had an agreement, damn it. And it hadn’t included walking out on him and taking his kids. His numbers had dipped five points in the polls. Thank God he’d already been reelected. Still, he didn’t need this kind of pressure.

What he needed was some good news. Something that would cast him in a more positive light. His mother was always harping on spinning everything. Surely this could be spun as well. He shook his head, smiling at a group of passing ladies who averted their eyes as if he was a leper. When the hell had a man’s sexual proclivities been questioned so stridently? JFK had had mistresses. Nobody gave a good goddamn. Hell, when Marilyn Monroe sang happy birthday to the man, it was positive press.

Of course, Marilyn hadn’t been college aged. Or had she? Sebastian frowned and then immediately forced himself to relax his face muscles. The camera added years; no point in helping it along.

In just a few days he was heading back to Austin.

Alone.

Not that that wasn’t normal. No, what wasn’t normal was that there’d be no family waiting for him at home. No one to trot out in front of the journalists when family values were in play. Even as he had the thought, he knew it was too cold. Too calculating. He might have felt that way about his ice queen of a wife, but he loved his children.

Didn’t he?

Jeffry was a disappointment certainly. Even in today’s liberal atmosphere, surely Jeffry knew how his sexual orientation would play out in the media. Why in the world in the midst of all this scandal had he chosen now to come out of the damn closet?

Maybe it was just a fad. That’s what his mother thought. Experimentation. The idea made Sebastian shudder. And if Jeffry’s predilections weren’t enough to deal with, there was Brittany’s infatuation with Marcus Alvarez. A deviant offender of the first order. Not the kind of man he wanted to inherit his kingdom. And besides how could he condone a relationship between his daughter and the brother of the woman who’d practically destroyed his career singlehandedly?

At least the girl had fallen off the radar. A town pariah. No one was listening to her now. Although the damage was done. If he’d had his way, he would have destroyed her. But as usual his mother was right. The potential for fallout was too dangerous.

God what a clusterfuck.

What he needed was something to save the fucking day.

As if some twisted deity somewhere had heard his plea, Ginny Moreno walked out of the pharmacy, her belly so swollen she almost waddled. And yet, Sebastian felt himself grow hard.

He increased his pace, closing in behind her, relishing the chance to catch her off guard, a wild idea forming in his head. If his family had deserted him, maybe he’d just get a new one.

“Hold on there a minute, Ginny.”

She stopped, startled, eyes wide as she turned around to face him. “What do you want?”

“To talk. We haven’t had a chance to talk lately.” He smiled, pouring on the charm. It’s what he excelled at after all. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“I’ll bet you have,” Ginny said, the words half mumbled.

“About us, I mean.” He reached out to touch her elbow, and she jerked free, eyes flashing. He didn’t remember her being so self-assured. It excited him. With a little polish… He shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your space; I just was hoping maybe we could try to start over.”

“Start over?” She actually looked puzzled. “And do what? Look, I don’t know what you’re angling for here. But I told you before, I don’t need your help and I’ve no interest in you being a part of this child’s life.”

“I see you’ve grown tougher than you were when we were together.”

“It isn’t like I had a choice.” She took a step backward, but he quickly closed the distance.

“No, I suppose you didn’t. I admire that about you though. Most women would have caved in your situation. But not you. You’ve stood strong. I know that the Murphy kid abandoned you. Hell, I did too, at first. But now—”

“There is no now,” Ginny said, her chin lifting up in defiance as he moved even closer, the back of a building keeping her from stepping farther back. “I want nothing to do with you. You’re just a perverted old man who gets off using young women.”

He lifted his hand, wanting to slap her words away, but forced himself to close his fingers instead. If he hit her, it was all over. “Ginny, I understand why you’re angry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have abandoned you when the truth came out. But I’m trying to make amends for it now.”

“By taking my baby?” She was clenching her fists, her breath coming in short pants. God, despite the fact that she was pregnant as hell, he still wanted her.

“No. I shouldn’t have threatened you before.” In truth, he had no regrets, except that Payton had betrayed him and now he was forced to regroup. He forced a soothing smile. “I meant by taking care of both of you.”

For a moment she just stared up at him, her soft breath fanning his face, and he started to smile in triumph. This was why he won elections. All he had to do was say the right words, give the right smile, and anything—anything was his.

He reached out to touch her, but she jerked sideways, breaking free of him. Her eyes flashed as she narrowed them in determination. “Not a chance in hell, Senator Rush.”

Anger sparked as he saw his chance for victory slipping away. The little bitch, how dare she reject him? He grabbed her arm, swinging her back to face him, not caring that they were standing on a public street. “You’re not walking away from me that easily, Ginny. You’re carrying my baby. Mine. And I don’t think it would take all that much for me to convince a judge to give me custody. I mean, what have you got to offer a child?” She might be the mother, but he was a senator. Hell, he was Sebastian Rush and that meant a hell of a lot more than any claim some little nobody like her might have on the kid.

He shook her, his anger making him reckless. “I have everything. A name. Money. Power. And you—you have nothing. You’re a no-name little whore from the wrong side of the tracks in a backwater town. You’ll never be a match for me. So you think about that. And then you think about whether you’d rather have me as a friend.” He tightened his hand on her arm as he ran a finger over the curve of one breast. “Or an enemy. It’s your choice, Ginny. So you think about it.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, satisfied to see a flicker of fear in her eyes, then let her go and turned and walked away.

Stupid cunt. If she didn’t want to play nice, then she’d find out what happened when he played dirty.

* * * *

“It’s a little early for that, isn’t it, son?” Sonya Murphy walked into the bar from the back room, a tray of clean glasses in her hands. Dillon followed on her heels, a keg on his shoulder.

Logan looked over the top of his beer at his mother and brother. Just what he needed, family interference. Of course, that was part and parcel for the Murphy clan. He knew because he’d gone halfway around the world to escape them, only to realize how damn much he missed their constant meddling once he was gone.

“I’m just trying to sort out a few things.” Truth be told, he’d been trying to sort things out ever since he’d left Delia Bruce and her sage advice at her front gate. Hell, he’d have been better off if he’d never gone out with her at all. Damn Marcus and Brittany. Interfering friends were worse than family—almost.

“Listen, bro, I don’t think you’re going to find answers in the bottom of a glass.”

“Says the publican’s son.” Logan scowled at his brother who only laughed as he shoved the keg under the counter.

“Pot calling kettle black,” Dillon returned. But at least his brother had the decency to fill a glass and sit down beside him. Logan’s mother, on the other hand, didn’t look too pleased with either of her sons.

Still, she poured herself a cup of coffee and came to stand in front of them, still behind the bar. “The two of you are so much like your father.”

“I don’t see that as a problem,” Logan said, as Dillon grunted in agreement.

“Most of the time, neither do I.” Sonya’s smile was warm. “He does, after all, hold the key to my heart. But that doesn’t mean the man’s a saint.”

“Thank the good Lord,” Dillon said, raising his glass. “He already thinks he’s right all the time; can you imagine how hard it would be to live with him if he were truly perfect?”

“Don’t speak ill of your father.” She shot her oldest son a quelling glance. “The point I’m making is that your father almost let me slip out of his grasp. If he hadn’t fought for me, I’d have married Marshall Beckham.”

It was an old story, one that differed slightly depending on if his mother or father was telling the tale. But the facts were that Marshall Beckham had wanted Sonya for his own. And a more determined man there’d never been. Except for Aiden Murphy.

“We know the story, Ma.” Dillon rolled his eyes, shooting a look at Logan.

“So you do. But you’re missing the obvious point. If your father had let himself be swayed by all the gossip—lies started by Marshall himself—none of us would be standing here right now. He had to reach past all the bullhockey and take what he wanted.” She shrugged and took a sip of coffee, her gaze holding theirs. “Me.”

“And you’re trying to tell Logan that he should wade through the shit and get Ginny back?”

“Except that it’s real shit,” Logan protested. “Not fabricated lies. Or at least the lies were what created the shit in the first place. And to make it worse, they were Ginny’s.” Logan tried for anger, but his heart wasn’t in it. Delia had been right. He did love Ginny. And the idea of living a life without her made his gut hurt.

“Okay, so maybe my analogy isn’t quite right,” his mother said. “But the point is, life is short and you have to go and get what you want. And sometimes to do that, you have to sacrifice your pride.”

“That’s pretty much what Delia said to me.” Logan sighed.

“Well, that complicates things a bit, don’t you think,” Dillon said, his words a statement, not a question.

“More than you know, brother. But not in the way you mean. Ginny saw us together.”

“You and Delia?” his mother asked. “That can’t have gone well.”

“I don’t know. Brittany talked to her, but I felt like a total ass. To both of them, if that matters. I just don’t know what to do.”

“About Delia or Ginny?” Dillon quipped, but sobered when Logan shot him an angry look.

“Ginny.”

“Do you love her?” his mother asked, her voice gentle as she reached over to cover his hand with hers.

“I do. It’s just that I thought she was the one person who would never lie to me.”

“I don’t condone what she did, telling people the baby was Jacob’s. But I can understand why she did it. And I think if you’re honest with yourself, so can you. Sometimes all it takes is a beginning. A first step.” Sonya topped off her coffee and headed back toward the kitchen.

“See, I told you she was talking about you,” Dillon offered as he took a sip of beer.

“Don’t get too high on your horse, Dillon Murphy.” Sonya stopped and turned around to face her sons again. “You’ve got to find your own kind of courage. If you truly love Joanne Alvarez, you can’t let her stay in that hellhole Hector’s made for her. She may feel trapped again now that he’s home, but it’s up to you to remind her that there’s a way out. Or barring that, you can always run the bastard out of town again.”