or sleep with the right people. You didn’t.” She slammed the door loud enough to shake the town hall rafters.
Lacey’s dad guided her down the wide hallway. “Looks like someone wants to compete with you, kiddo.”
Did he? Or was it his dad? The Clayton Walker.
God, she didn’t know. She didn’t know if she could believe him anymore. Her brain flashed to the drawings she’d found in his apartment. Didn’t they tell her a lot about him?
Maybe. But he needed to say it. And show her, not just draw her.
Inside the community room, her father kept her marching straight ahead.
She tried to turn. “No backing out or dreaming up reasons to run.”
“But Dad—”
“Lacey,” he said softly as their steps fell into a matching rhythm and heads on both sides of the aisle turned to look at them. “What does this feel like to you?”
“Hell?”
He smiled and patted her hand. “A walk up the aisle with my little girl.”
Her heart dropped so hard it practically rolled out onto the floor. “Dad, please.”
“It’s okay, Lacey. Unconventional, but okay.” He beamed at her, pausing as they reached the front. “Now, you go up there and change your life, young lady. Doesn’t take a man to do that for you.”
“But Dad, that guy back there—”
“Is not important.”
But he was. He could have been. He’d changed her and loved her and made her feel strong, smart, sexy, and powerful. How could that not be important?
“What’s important is your future.” Dad gave her a nudge. “Now go get what you always dreamed of.”
What she’d always dreamed of was a guy like Clay. A partner, a friend, a father to her children, a lover for life.
Sam Lennox cleared his throat, making no effort to hide his impatience. “We’re waiting, Ms. Armstrong.”
So was she—for Clay. For him to run in and explain that this was all a mistake, and, by the way, he loved her and would she mar—
“Are you changing your mind?” Sam asked.
“Thinking about backing out?” George Masterson added.
“Afraid you’ll lose?” Charity had to shoot her two cents in.
It would be so easy to quit now.
“No,” Lacey said quietly, walking forward. “I’m ready.”
At the podium she blew out a breath and looked at the back of the room as the doors opened again. She braced for Clay, but instead a woman she didn’t recognize rushed in, hair pulled back under a red baseball cap, sunglasses covering her face.
And then Clay came in and put his arm around the woman’s shoulders, speaking softly into her ear.
Jayna?
Instantly Ira Howell lunged out from his chair in the middle, nearly jogging back to Clay to shake his hand. Like they were business partners. Could he have secretly planned to buy that land and build on it without telling her?
Why?
Why not? After all, what did she really know about Clay Walker? But those drawings; they were from his heart, weren’t they?
He still didn’t look at her, didn’t even glance in her direction. Instead he put his arms around the woman and squeezed her into his chest, lifting the brim of her baseball cap to give her a smile.
That smile. That heart-stopping smile. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. A kiss that, even from here, she could tell was full of love.
“Your microphone is on,” Sam said, giving Lacey a start as she imagined that her dark and pained thoughts might somehow be broadcast to the town.
But no one knew what she was thinking. Not even the man she was thinking it about. In fact, he hadn’t even glanced her way. Instead Ira had his full attention, and the two men walked right out the back, deep in conversation.
He was gone, but the woman who’d come in with him took a seat in the last row, crossed her arms, and looked at Lacey with profound interest.
Interest in the competition, no doubt.
“Lacey, please.” Sam’s voice grew irritated. “You have the floor.”
She cleared her throat, looked out into the crowd, and found her dad. What had he said to her earlier?
Looks to me like that wind swept away all of your baggage and left some confidence.
And right at that moment she found her voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, members of the council, honored guests, and my lifelong friends and neighbors. I’m here to present an idea that I believe will change Mimosa Key for the better, will improve our lives, increase our revenue, and ensure that this island remains vital for many generations to come. I present to you Windswept at Barefoot Bay.”
It