Читать книгу Tempting The Beauty Queen - Carolyn Hector - Страница 14
Оглавление“And what are you going to do?” Maggie Swayne asked, sitting with her legs crossed on Kenzie’s pale pink cushioned couch. She grabbed a pink-and-gold-accented throw pillow and placed it in her lap, clearly desperate for more details of what had happened this afternoon.
Kenzie’s traumatic episode this afternoon granted her an excuse to not attend Corie’s rehearsal dinner tonight. With fifty Hairstons, Kenzie didn’t think she’d be missed. Her mother, Paula, had already excused her. Maggie took the pardon to include herself, too. “Corie’s wedding is tomorrow.”
The big day had been circled on Kenzie’s custom-made calendar on her stainless steel refrigerator in her downtown Southwood apartment. Each month featured a picture of a particular tiara Kenzie had won over the years propped up at one of her favorite historic places around town. This month’s image was an old photograph of the Miss Southwood crown on a low branch of a blooming magnolia tree last summer. A year ago, when Kenzie took the job, glad to finally put her degree to use, she never thought it would be so unglamorous. She combed through old newspapers, donated family photo albums and yearbooks. Sometimes she went out in around town and took pictures of trees with sweetheart initials carved in the trunk. On one occasion Kenzie brought her well-earned tiaras along with her and made her own calendar. “I don’t need to be reminded,” Kenzie said from the kitchen entrance in a clipped tone.
“I mean, we can skip the rehearsal dinner tonight with no questions asked but Auntie Bren is going to have questions tomorrow for you.”
“I like the way Mama excused me from attending and that includes you for everything but Auntie’s wrath.”
“Because the last time she got on FaceTime with me and asked where my boyfriend was, I reached over into the nightstand and showed her.”
Auntie Bren had a habit of being on the stuffy side. Kenzie could only imagine the old woman’s face.
“You’re so crass.” Kenzie shook her head at her sister, who poked her tongue out in response. “And I have answers for her,” Kenzie said with a shrug. She joined her sister in the living room on the couch with two glasses of wine.
The windows were drawn open. The bright lights of the nearby amphitheater shone through, changing colors on the high ceiling. One of the perks of her apartment was the free concerts. She saw all the performances without ever having to leave her place. The downside was the noise level for the concerts she wouldn’t have paid for nor taken free tickets to. Tonight’s event included a young preteen pop singing group. Kenzie wasn’t sure what was louder, the music or the screaming little girls in the audience.
Maggie took a loud slurp of her red wine before setting the glass down on the magazine-covered coffee table. “What are you going to say?”
“I’m going to tell her I worked my behind off at Georgia State until I received a PhD in Southern history two years ago, and becoming Dr. Mackenzie Swayne has occupied my time.”
“Meanwhile your bed remains unoccupied,” Maggie mumbled.
“Maggie,” Kenzie gasped.
“What?” Maggie blinked her hazel eyes innocently. “I’m merely saying what she’ll say.”
“I’m not discussing my sex life with her because she won’t bring it up.”
Maggie snorted and reached for her glass. “Want to bet?” She cut her eyes over to Kenzie. Kenzie concentrated on swirling the beverage around in the glass. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So why won’t you take this Ramon up on his offer? Hell, moan is in his damn name.”
“Because being around Ramon makes me a different person,” Kenzie answered honestly. “I was so mad at him I became bitter.”
“But the two of you spoke today and worked things out. No one says you two have to sleep together. He needs help and so do you.”
Sometimes Kenzie told her older sister too much. Granted, they were considered Irish twins, born nine months apart, but they bared all the features of twins. Kenzie was outgoing and loved to be around people. They favored each other in looks, with their reddish curly hair, although Maggie’s maintained a better hold than Kenzie’s. But Kenzie and Maggie were complete opposites. At eighteen Maggie couldn’t wait to get out of Southwood. She’d planned on never coming back to live here and had almost lived up to her promise. The Swayne family fortune in pecans made it possible for the kids to never have to work. Kenzie and her brother chose to work for a living. It helped keep their parents out of their lives. Maggie opted not to. Right now Maggie lived in Atlanta as a socialite living off her trust fund—her true calling in life. Coming back to Southwood was a step back for Maggie, yet when she did, she always scheduled a secluded, two-week break in the family’s cabin in the woods over in Black Wolf Creek, away from her social connections in Southwood. Kenzie partly understood her sister’s dilemma. Their last name was Swayne but everyone always asked them if they were Hairston girls. As a teen, Kenzie hated the reminder but going away to college, she missed the recognition. The red hair gave them away. Maggie’s was lighter than Kenzie’s and Maggie wasn’t plagued with freckles.
“Maybe I’ll tell him something next week for Felicia’s wedding.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re going.”
“She was one part of the tiara squad.”
“I’m not friends with the girls I competed with,” said Maggie. “For Christ’s sake, it’s called a competition, not a friendship pageant. You almost lost your chance to be the last Swayne to ever win Miss Southwood.”
“Felicia is always nice to me. When she found out her brother was moving back to town, she sent me a box of magnolias.”
“You were banging her brother,” Maggie pointed out, then shivered with a gagging noise. “Alexander was a creep then. He just wanted to date a beauty queen.”
What Alexander wanted was none of Kenzie’s concern. At least Maggie knew to drop the subject. Both girls glanced over at the curio cabinet filled with beauty pageant memorabilia. Maggie had her own set. The Swaynes were big on pageants, a tradition passed down from generation to generation. Their mother, Paula, met their father, Mitch, through a pageant, when Paula allegedly stole the tiara from his sister, Jody Swayne. Mitch had fallen in love immediately. The Swaynes didn’t speak to their son the first year of their marriage.
Aunt Jody held on to her bitter loss for ten years and stayed away from Southwood. Aunt Jody attended family reunions but she vowed never to step foot at another Southwood pageant ever again. And she kept that promise, even when Maggie and Kenzie competed. Kenzie forgave Aunt Jody for not coming to her crowning and she secretly hoped she’d come back to Southwood, especially with the sesquicentennial gala right around the corner. With the one-hundred-and-fifty-year celebration one week away from the Miss Southwood pageant, Kenzie prayed Aunt Jody would stay.
“Can you believe Bailey is ready for her first pageant?” Kenzie asked. She reached for the photograph on her end table of the seventeen-year-old beauty.
“It’s about time,” Maggie said, throwing the pillow to the side and reaching for the picture in Kenzie’s hands. “I love our brother dearly but Richard nearly tarnished the Swayne dynasty.”
“Hairston-Swayne dynasty,” Kenzie corrected. After their mother won her pageant, her relatives also tried out and won several if Swaynes weren’t in the competition.
“There you go with your history.”
Kenzie shrugged her shoulders and took another sip. “I can’t help myself, it’s in me.”
“You could help it if someone was in you.” Maggie laughed at her own joke while someone knocked on the door.
As if on cue, Kenzie’s stomach growled. Setting her glass down on the coffee table, Kenzie smoothed her hands down the back of her green cotton shorts. Since she and Maggie weren’t attending the rehearsal dinner tonight, there was no need to concern herself with the dozens of buttons on the back of the skintight black dress. The sexy dress lay across her bed, next to the outfit Kenzie planned on wearing tonight—her bathrobe. Kenzie’s stomach growled again. She hadn’t eaten since the cupcake earlier this morning. The box of desserts she’d left upstairs on the second floor of the post office had been lost in the rubble. Thankfully the pizza she’d ordered ten minutes ago came earlier than expected.
“What am I going to do with you?” Kenzie asked as she opened the door.
“Dressed like that, you can do anything to me you want,” answered a deep baritone voice.
Kenzie realized she hadn’t bothered peeping through the peephole. No one knocked on her door other than delivery men. “Ramon?”
“Ramon?” Maggie repeated, leaning off the couch so far to peer down the hall she fell over. Kenzie heard glass break and winced.
Ramon Torres stood before her, dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt sans a tie. Gone was the manbun from earlier and now his hair hung loose around his neck. A lavender box protruded from his hands with The Cupcakery logo on the top. In his other arm he held a bouquet of flowers—daisies. So he decided to pop up at my place with the wrong flowers?
Kenzie rested her hip against the door frame to block him from entering. So many questions ran through her mind right then. How did he know where she lived? Last year their fling took place at Magnolia Palace, while she’d stayed for the week and where Ramon had never formally picked her up for a date. Why was he decked out on a Friday night? Why hadn’t she cleaned her apartment? Kenzie hated having to clean. Considering she lived alone, one would think Kenzie could keep up with her own mess. Her project this week had been painstakingly combing through the old photo albums of Southwood High and scanning the pages to archive. But she chose sleeping in a few extra minutes over than tidying up every morning. Irritated with herself, Kenzie blew out a sigh. “Why are you here?”
The thick black brows hooding his eyes rose as if in question. Visibly taken aback by her annoyed voice, Ramon maneuvered his gifts under his arms and pressed his hands together to make the international sign for time-out. “I thought we moved on from the animosity.”
Remembering how the afternoon went between them, Kenzie nodded her head and rolled her eyes. “Habit, sorry.”
“No worries.”
When Ramon flashed his million-watt smile Kenzie’s insides felt all warm and fuzzy...something she did not need. “What brings you to my place?” It dawned on her Ramon might have come to the conclusion of her being in need of an escort tonight for the rehearsal dinner. “Oh, God, wait a minute. I hope you didn’t get any ideas earlier. It’s presumptuous to think I needed a date tonight.”
“Whoa, I am about to go on a date but it’s not with you,” Ramon clarified.
Kenzie felt a draft of cold air sweep against her tongue as her mouth gaped open. “Oh.”
To recover from her embarrassment Kenzie narrowed her eyes. “How are you going to propose taking me to all of my events when you’re not available?”
“I am going on one date, Kenzie, not getting married.”
To add insult to injury, Maggie cleared her throat as she shuffled down the hallway in time to witness Kenzie’s embarrassment. “Are you getting some paper towels to clean up your mess?”
“That and I came over here to see who the sexy voice belonged to,” Maggie cooed and extended her hand as she approached. “Swayne. Charmed, I’m sure.”
Kenzie cut her eyes at her sister. “The stain?”
“I am getting to it.” Maggie said but she kept a firm grip in Ramon’s hand.
“Maggie,” Ramon said with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you. How are you doing this evening?”
“I’m better now,” Maggie flirted with a goofy smile.
Kenzie’s grip on the doorknob tightened. Her other hand went to her hip. “The wine, Maggie.”
“I was just heading to the kitchen,” Maggie tried to explain but Kenzie pointed to the left, where her kitchen was.
“It’s over there.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “She’s bossy, isn’t she?”
“No comment,” replied Ramon.
“Maggie, go.” Kenzie ordered her sister out of the way and stared at Ramon. “So what brings you to this side of town?”
“I realized I’ve been outside your building but never been in your place,” Ramon began with a sly grin. Kenzie read his mind immediately. They’d slept together, several times, yet he’d never been to her apartment. Ramon cleared his throat. “I wanted to replace the cupcakes you bought today.”
“Technically you bought them,” Kenzie clarified and accepted the cupcakes. “But thank you just the same.”
His large foot kicked a box into the doorway. “I also went back inside the post office and grabbed one of the boxes of old Southwood memorabilia you were fascinated with.”
Excited, Kenzie knelt and squealed. “I can’t wait to go through this stuff.”
“I figured,” said Ramon. “I’m also having those ballots reviewed.”
“Cool,” Kenzie breathed. “I love a good mystery. Maybe somewhere in this box is justification for keeping the post office as a historical site.”
“Have you thought about my offer?”
Coming to her feet, Kenzie pressed her index finger against her chin to dramatically ponder his question. “Remind me again?”
Ramon shook his head from left to right. Dark strands of his hair spilled over his shoulder. “I know you know. You’re struggling whether or not preserving the building is worth spending ten events with me.”
“Ten?” Kenzie repeated.
“Three weddings mean three rehearsal dinners or at least receptions, along with the sesquicentennial gala and the pageant, right? Plus the times we need to spend together getting me up to speed.”
Kenzie pressed her lips together. “What do you know?”
“I come from a large family myself, Kenzie.”
“You never told me.”
“Well, we never got around to talking when we were alone,” Ramon declared with a wink and a lopsided smirk.
A feverish chill crept down her spine. Intimate moments flashed in her mind, of being tangled in the black cotton sheets of his bed. Kenzie cleared her throat and replaced the wanton thoughts with remembering how she’d sat at her window waiting for Ramon to show up and the humiliating way she’d smiled blankly at everyone at the after party who’d asked of his whereabouts or stated how they’d expected to see the two of them together that night.
“Either way,” she said, finding her voice, “I appreciate your offer.”
“But your pride and ego won’t allow me to help you?” Ramon asked. “I’m not the same guy as last summer.”
“Pride and ego?” Kenzie forced herself to scoff. It was easier than believing him.
Ramon nodded his head. His hair was loose around his shoulder and brushed back. The open collar made him sexier. Damn him. “Of having to tell me yes.”
“Boy, you have her pegged, don’t you?” Maggie laughed, coming back through the hallway with a roll of paper towels.
“Judas,” Kenzie muttered and clutched the brass doorknob.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to cut your summer events short? Why aren’t you dressed for the rehearsal dinner?” Ramon asked. “Isn’t it standard for the close family to attend?”
“We’re excused from going,” Maggie called out, “on account of what happened today to us.”
In question, Ramon turned and looked to Kenzie for an answer. She rolled her eyes. “She is piggybacking on the excuse.”
“We’re twins,” said Maggie. “When you hurt, I hurt.” She said it with such conviction Kenzie wanted to offer her sister an Oscar or Golden Globe Award.
“I didn’t realize,” said Ramon.
“We’re not twins.”
“We’re Irish twins,” said Maggie. “Close enough.”
Ramon chuckled at the sibling banter. He’d mentioned he came from a big family; Kenzie wondered where he stood in the lineup. She pictured him as the overprotective big brother type—especially after the way he’d looked after her today.
“Well, thanks again for the replacement cupcakes,” Kenzie said, wanting to end this bonding moment with Ramon.
“Have you given my offer any consideration?” Ramon asked.
“I’m good.”
Ramon licked his lips and glanced down at her frame. “I know. But I asked if you needed an escort in exchange for helping me win the bid for the post office.”
“As a historian invested in the community, I’ll help,” said Kenzie. “But I don’t need help with finding a date. I am a well-rounded woman with a PhD and a beauty queen pedigree and tiara to match. I can handle a wedding with my family.”
* * *
“So who were the cupcakes for?”
Ramon made it back to his cousin Stephen’s house in the suburbs of Southwood with his sleepy niece, Philly. Technically Philly would be his second cousin because her father, Ken, was Ramon’s first cousin. But given the age difference and how Ramon considered his Reyes cousins as brothers, Philly was his niece in his eyes.
“Uncle Ramon?” Kimber asked, turning down the booming music from her cell phone.
“What?”
“The cupcakes. Tiffani told me you bought a dozen just before closing.”
There should be a baker confidentiality clause somewhere. Ramon chuckled and shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere backpacking through Europe like most college kids?”
“Don’t change the subject on me,” said Kimber, scrambling from her place on the couch in the family den. School books clunked to the floor. The kid amazed him so freaking much. Kimber lost her father four years ago. Her uncles, Stephen and Nate, had uprooted their real estate business from Atlanta to sleepy Southwood to move into their brother’s family home and take care of Kimber and Philly. Of course his first cousins had had a few ups and downs trying to raise the girls but they all came out just fine. Stephen married and he and his wife, Lexi, lived at the home, raising Philly and their almost one-year-old son, Kenny. Kimber was home for the summer to help Lexi out with Kenny and wait for the arrival of the latest addition to the Reyes family.