Lip Service. Сьюзен Мэллери

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      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.

      “Brother and sister?”

      “You’re marrying Skye, aren’t you? At least, that’s what she said.”

      T.J. swore, this time more aggressively. “She heard. I didn’t mean for her to.”

      He was standing at the top of the stairs. Izzy thought about giving him a big push, just for the thrill of watching him tumble. “You hesitated when Jed offered you Skye. I can’t believe you had the nerve to think about it. She’s worth ten of you.”

      “Wait a minute. My hesitation wasn’t about Skye. She’s a beautiful woman.”

      “So were you concerned about the size of your equipment?” Izzy interrupted with a smirk.

      “I was making a point with your father.” He leaned against the post by the stairs. “And for future reference, I’ve never had complaints about the size of my equipment.”

      “Most women are too polite to complain in person. We only tell each other when we’re disappointed.”

      He raised a blond eyebrow. “You have sass.”

      “I have a lot of things you’ll never see.”

      “Want to bet?”

      Izzy liked that he gave as good as he got, but not that he was consorting with Jed, talking about marrying Skye and flirting with her.

      “Jed won’t take kindly to you playing his daughters against each other. Trust me, he’s not a man you want to piss off.”

      “Maybe СКАЧАТЬ