Lip Service

“I didn’t have a choice.” She glared at Lexi, daring her to say she did. That there were always choices. But it was easy to be critical from far away. Skye had lost her mother when she was only ten; she would have done anything to keep her father—that included giving up Mitch.

“I know,” Lexi said. “But Mitch could never understand. There was an intensity between the two of you. It’s not surprising you were both hurt.”

“When did you get sensible?” Skye grumbled. “I want to be the sensible one.”

“You will be. Just not about this. I couldn’t be rational about Cruz for a minute.”

Just speaking her fiancé’s name made Lexi glow. Skye did her best not to be envious, but it was hard. Love should be powerful and compelling—like she’d had with Mitch all those years ago. She’d loved her husband, but it had never been the same all-consuming passion. She had adored Ray, but she’d burned for Mitch…long after she should have. Yet another guilty secret, she thought sadly.

“You were young,” Lexi said. “It was a long time ago. Give yourself a break.”

“Because you think I made the wrong choice?” Skye asked. “I don’t. I did what I had to. What was right.”

“I know.”

Lexi said the words, but Skye wasn’t sure she believed them. Skye had given up love to play it safe. Who did that? Didn’t she deserve the consequences of her actions?

“To give up Ray would have meant giving up Erin. She’s my daughter. I can’t imagine life without her.”

“I know,” Lexi said. “She’s amazing. You’re lucky to have her. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

“Yes,” Skye murmured. A few months ago her life had been boring and familiar. Now there was very little she could count on.

“As for Mitch,” Lexi continued. “Why worry about him? It’s not as if you’re going to be seeing that much of him.”

“You’re right. I know he’s back, we spoke, end of story. It’s not as if we’re going to be running into each other very often.”

IT WAS a little after four when Skye heard yelling just outside her office. She stood to investigate, but before she could cross the room, the door burst open and Mitch stalked inside. Elsa ran alongside him, trying to get in front.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I explained you were busy, but he insisted.”

From the angry look on Mitch’s face, he’d done more than insist.

“Don’t worry about it,” Skye told her assistant. “Mitch and I are old friends. I’m happy to see him.”

Elsa didn’t seem convinced, but nodded and backed out of the room.

“Have a seat,” Skye said, pointing to the chair by her desk.

“No, thanks. This won’t take long.”

He looked good, she thought, taking in the jeans and white shirt. Furious but good. His color was better than the last time she’d seen him and the lines of pain around his eyes had eased.

Despite everything that had happened, despite what he’d said, she was happy to see him. She wanted to go to him and hold him. She wanted to do a whole lot more than that, which probably meant she needed some intensive therapy or at the very least a self-help book with a snappy title.

“You’re obviously pissed off,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Which I find interesting. If anyone has the right to be mad, it’s me.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked.

“Is that a trick question?”

He ignored her. “I had an interesting visitor at breakfast Saturday morning. Erin.”

Skye opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure what to say. Erin had breakfast with Fidela most weekends. If Skye was up, they would ride over together. If not, Arturo came and got the little girl. It was a tradition, one that Erin treasured.

“Let me guess,” Skye said bitterly. “You object to my daughter being on the ranch. Give it a rest, Mitch. I know you’re adjusting and that you’re dealing with an incredibly unfair situation, but Erin has nothing to do with that. She and Fidela adore each other. She’s like their granddaughter. They don’t have kids of their own. You were like their son, so even you should understand. Don’t tell me that Erin can’t go over there anymore.”

“Is that what you think this is about?” he asked. “Your kid eating pancakes with Fidela?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “What else is there?”

“Interesting question. Erin invited me to her birthday party. She’s turning eight.”

“Okay.”

He took a step toward her. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t get it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked like he wanted to rip her into tiny pieces. But for what? Her daughter turning eight?

“She told me when her birthday is,” he said, his voice filled with rage. “I did the math. When the hell were you going to tell me that Erin is my daughter?”

The room shifted. Had they been in California, Skye would have assumed this was the big one. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think and, even through the wild disbelief, she ached for him. For the pain she was about to cause.

“Don’t pretend you’re surprised,” he told her. “I know the last time we had sex, kid. It was right after I proposed.”

“I remember,” she said. She remembered everything about that night and the day that followed. “Oh, Mitch. No.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t bother pretending she’s not mine.”

“She’s not,” she whispered.

His expression tightened. “Bullshit. Either she’s mine or you’re a whore.”

She felt as if he’d hit her. “Those are not my only two choices.”

“What else is there? If Erin is Ray’s kid, then you jumped into bed with that old man, what? Two days later? You putting out on the first date now, Skye?” His mouth twisted. “Maybe you are. These days you don’t even require a date. Just a private spot in the sun and a willing guy.”

She raised her hand to slap him. He grabbed her by the wrist and held on hard enough to bruise.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his eyes blazing. “Did you like fucking the old man?”

Tears burned in her eyes. She pulled free of him and stepped back. Her throat felt tight, as if she would never be able to swallow again.

It hadn’t been the first date, but the third and she’d cried the whole time. She’d slept with Ray to find out if she could. He’d held her and told her he’d never meant to hurt her. That he always thought she was special but if the idea of being with him was so disgusting, he would walk away.

He’d been kind and understanding. Sure, he’d wanted an eighteen-year-old bride, but he hadn’t been a jerk about it. She’d been tempted to tell Ray that she would never love anyone but Mitch. But Jed had taken her aside and warned her that if she refused Ray, not only would she be dead to him, but that he would destroy the Cassidy Ranch. He would take Mitch’s inheritance and erase it from the face of the earth.

She’d believed him but she’d still longed for Mitch. In the end circumstances had made the decision for her. She’d been pregnant with Ray’s baby. Just over seven months later, Erin had been born—five weeks premature.

Now she sucked in a breath, wiped away her tears and faced Mitch.

“Erin isn’t yours,” she said clearly.

“I don’t believe you and I’ll destroy you for keeping her from me.”

“You’ll have to prove it first.”

“I want a DNA test. If you don’t agree, I’m willing to go to court to get it.”

A part of her understood. Given their past and the timing of events, it made sense that he thought Erin could be his. A part of her had always wished she was. It was a secret she’d kept from Ray, one that had shamed her. But she’d been unable to let it go.

Mitch’s choices were simple. Erin was his or the woman he’d loved had betrayed him.

She thought about explaining that Erin had a birthmark on the small of her back. A tiny half-moon stain that Ray and all his other children shared. She doubted Mitch would believe her.

“I’ll agree to a DNA test on the condition that you keep this to yourself,” she said quietly. “You won’t discuss it with Erin. I don’t want her hurt.”

“You’re not in a position to dictate terms.”

She raised her chin. “Erin is my daughter. She’s a child and doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of this. If you really think she’s yours, you shouldn’t want her hurt or confused. She can’t know until we have the results.”

Mitch’s dark eyes gave nothing away. “Agreed. I’ll call a lab and have someone stop by.”

He turned and left without saying anything else. She watched him go. He walked slowly but steadily. If she hadn’t known about the prosthesis, she might not have guessed there was anything wrong.

When she was alone, she sank into her chair and closed her eyes. She hadn’t expected this. Didn’t he know her well enough to believe she wouldn’t keep his child from him?

Obviously not, she thought sadly. He believed the worst about her. When he found out the truth about Erin, he would know that she, Skye, hadn’t been lying. But she had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to make an already difficult situation any better.

MITCH STOOD in the center of the stable. The smell of horse and hay was exactly as he remembered, but he felt completely out of place. What he had once taken for granted now only served to point out everything he couldn’t do. Ride? He couldn’t get on a horse, let alone guide it.

Riding should have been easy. He could use a mount, so he didn’t have to push off with his left leg as he swung his right leg over the saddle. But he was unable to balance on his prosthesis. Once on the horse, he wouldn’t have the control to use his left heel.

Frustration, never far away, bubbled to the surface. What was he supposed to do with himself now? Ride around in the truck, like an old man?

“I have something for you.”

He turned toward the voice and saw Arturo leading a bay into the barn. The gelding was big and moved easily.

Mitch took a step back. His heel caught in the wood floor and he nearly fell into the hay.

“This is Bullet,” Arturo said, stroking the horse’s nose. “He’s been trained so you can mount him on the right side. You also only need to use your right heel. He’s strong and fast, with a bit of a temper. I thought you two would have that in common.”

Mitch curled his hands into fists. “I don’t need your help,” he growled.

“Maybe not, but I’m offering it. Besides, I used your money to buy him.”

That should have made him smile, but Mitch was beyond humor. He hated everything about the ranch. The chickens, the organic beef with every single thing about their lives documented. He hated how the socks on his stump were soaked with blood every night and how the nightmares kept him from sleeping. He hated that he’d been so grateful to be alive only to find out nothing about his life was how he wanted it.

“You want to ride again,” Arturo told him. “I know you do.”

“Stay out of my life.”

The old man’s mouth tightened. “Fine,” he said, and dropped the reins. He walked out, leaving Mitch and the horse alone in the barn.

Mitch felt like an ass. He knew Arturo was only trying to help, but there were—

He heard footsteps and was surprised Arturo had returned. But when he looked toward the entrance he saw a different silhouette.

“You’re even more of a bastard than I thought,” Skye said as she moved into the barn. “Does it make you feel like a man to hurt people who love you?”

She was the last person he wanted to see. Worse, she’d witnessed a part of him he had trouble controlling.

“He loves you,” she said. “He wants you to know that.” She patted the horse’s neck. “Come on, Mitch. Why is that so bad?”

“Arturo is fine. He can take care of himself.”

“You’re his family. He shouldn’t have to.”

“Get out,” he told her.

She moved closer, until she stood right in front of him. “Are you going to make me? You’ve pretty much peaked on crappy things to say to me. So what’s left?” She raised her chin. “Want to hit me? It seems that you want to hit somebody. Why not me? Don’t I deserve it?”

“Do you like it rough these days?” he sneered.

She flushed but held her ground. “I know that certain parts of your life suck, but you got to come home. That counts. You have people who are thrilled you’re back. That counts more. What I want to know is, do you have a timetable on the pity party? Or is it playing indefinitely?”

“Right. Because it’s so easy for you to judge from your perfect life. Want to trade, Skye? Want to give up a leg or an arm? Live with that for a while and then we’ll talk.”

“You are so full of crap,” she said. “This isn’t about your leg. This is about you.”

He wanted to crush her. He wanted to take her and make her beg. He wanted her naked and vulnerable and then he wanted to walk away.

She stared into his eyes as if daring him to do everything he was thinking. Finally she drew a breath.

“Erin has provided her DNA sample. Anytime you’re ready, you can do the same. Then we’ll be done.”

“Erin’s mine. We’re only starting. I’m spending my nights thinking of all the ways I’m going to punish you for what you’ve done to me.”

Sadness invaded her green eyes. “If hating me gives you strength, then go for it. But I will warn you not to get too excited about taking me on. Erin’s not yours, Mitch. No matter how much you want her to be, she’s not. And if calling me a whore makes that easier to bear, then go for it. Just remember this. That little girl thinks you’re a hero. If you give her one reason to believe otherwise, I will make you regret being born.”

That made him smile. “You really think you can?”

“Absolutely. You’re so far down, you don’t care if you live or die. I have something to fight for. My daughter.”

She left then, her back straight, her long red hair beckoning. He watched her go, admiring her spirit, however delusional. There would only be one winner in this game and it was going to be him.

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