The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel) by Jennifer Dawson Page B

she’d shown up in Revival.
    Although maybe that was coincidence; after all, the press release happened on the same day.
    She frowned. Had it been only yesterday? It felt like a lifetime ago. All this thinking was making her head hurt when all she wanted to do was go bake with Gracie.
    It was the only thing that seemed clear to her at the moment, so that’s what she was going to do.
    She glanced up from the sink, realizing too late that Shane was studying her. What had they been talking about? Oh yes, drive and perseverance, and his belief that she had any. She shook her head. “You don’t know anything about me.”
    He crossed his arms. “I know you graduated with a near perfect grade point average. I know you’re well respected in the political community.” He gave her a sardonic grin. “Even though you’re on the wrong side.”
    The teasing tone brought surprised laughter to her lips, and she was happy for the diversion from her future. “My side is the only sane, rational one out there.”
    “Clearly somebody’s been watching too much news.” He grinned, scooting closer to her. “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid, Ce-ce.”
    She put her hands on her hips. “Um, excuse me, but the only one crazy here is you.”
    He ran a finger down her arm and goose bumps broke out over her skin. “Before we get into a big political debate, tell me: Did you pick the party because that’s what you believe, or because that’s what the senator is?”
    At the mention of her father some of her enjoyment dimmed. “I’m my own woman.”
    Those green eyes of his met hers. “Are you?”
    The question was a direct hit and she jerked away, turning back to the dishes. “Yes.”
    He grabbed her wrist and the sponge fell from her grasp. “I’m sorry.”
    She shrugged. He’d touched a nerve she had no intention of talking about, so she shifted the topic back to him. “You didn’t answer my question.”
    He released his hold and crossed his arms. “Hell, I’m not sure I know.”
    She flicked off the faucet again and dried her hands on a dish towel. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
    He dragged a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a plan. I barely graduated high school. For the most part I was a fuck-up, but when my dad died . . .” His jaw hardened and a muscle jumped in his cheek. “When he died, everything was a mess. My mom was a wreck. Maddie was on the verge of death. My dad had a pile of bills. Maybe those would have been manageable, but the insurance ran out. There was the cost of the funeral. Hospital bills that just kept coming. Catholic school tuition. The list went on and on. James and Evan were school; what could they do? Somebody had to pick up the pieces and make sure we didn’t lose the little that we had left.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I just did what had to be done.”
    She closed the dishwasher and looked at him. “I think that’s bullshit.”
    His head jerked. “Excuse me?”
    “It’s bullshit, although I believe that’s what you tell yourself.”
    “What in the hell do you know about it?” His voice raised several decibels.
    The gruffness didn’t scare her. “People don’t build multimillion-dollar companies by chance. And they sure as hell don’t just”—she made air quotes—“happen.”
    He dragged a hand through his hair again. “It’s not bullshit, that’s how it started.”
    “And?”
    He peered at her with those intense, catlike eyes of his. “It’s not all that exciting, but if you want to know, you have to give me something in return.”
    “What’s that?” Excitement played tug-of-war with trepidation.
    He gave her a slow, sinful smile and trepidation won as her belly dropped. “Tell me if you came last night.”
    A hot flush crawled unbidden up her neck. She turned to the counter and wiped down a water spot. “On that note, I should be getting to Gracie’s.”
    “Chicken.”
    Absolutely.

Chapter Eight
    Two hours later she stood over one of