and motherhood hadn’t changed Cassidy. The hairstylist wore a bright blue skirt with an animal-print tank. The bold pairing eased Sylvie’s trepidation about her own outfit.
Though Cassidy was married to a prominent pediatrician, from what Sylvie knew of the woman’s background, it mirrored her own humble beginnings.
After an exuberant greeting, Cassidy looped her arm through Sylvie’s on the walk to the house, asking if she’d brought a cake to the barbecue.
“No cake, but I whipped up a batch of cupcake burgers.” Even though Poppy, the hostess, had insisted she didn’t need to bring anything, Sylvie had dropped off the novelty treats earlier in the afternoon.
She’d told Poppy it was so she didn’t have to bring them with her tonight. The truth was, delivering the promised treats early had left the door open to skipping the party.
Cassidy’s husband, Tim, dressed conservatively in khakis and a navy polo, cocked his head. “Cupcake burgers? Sounds like something Esther and Ellyn would enjoy.”
Esther and Ellyn were Tim’s twin girls from his first marriage. A widower, Tim had raised the girls alone until he and Cassidy had married last year.
“I bet they’d love ’em. They sound so unique and fun.” Cassidy tapped a finger against her lips. “Are cupcake burgers difficult to make?”
“Super easy. You start with vanilla cupcakes and a tray of brownies.” As they covered the short distance to the porch, Sylvie explained how she cut circles of brownies for the burger and used colored frosting for the mustard, ketchup and lettuce wedged between the vanilla cupcake “bun.”
“You’re amazingly talented.” The sincerity in Cassidy’s voice had warmth flooding Sylvie’s heart, even before the stylist added, “Not to mention you look absolutely stunning tonight.”
The simple compliment was the confidence booster Sylvie needed as Poppy opened the door. Despite being seven months pregnant with baby number two, the hostess looked elegant in gray linen. She greeted them warmly, giving each of them a quick hug.
Sylvie lost Cassidy and Tim on her way to the back patio. She’d expected to see a grill or two, maybe several picnic tables and a few lawn chairs. Instead an outdoor barbecue “kitchen” embellished with stone accents was the focal point of the large patio. Tea lights hung on brightly colored ribbons from thick branches of leafy trees that provided an umbrella of green.
A pergola extended over an outdoor kitchen bar, where the buffet had been set up. Bouquets of brightly colored flowers sat amid a multitude of decorative bowls filled with a variety of salads. Sylvie spotted her cupcakes with the other desserts. The nearly empty baking-sheet-turned-decorative-fabric-tray told her the cupcakes were a hit.
Benedict and his father, John, manned the grill, which filled the air with the delicious scent of roasting meat. Poppy seemed to be the official greeter while her mother-in-law, Dori, was making sure everyone had a drink and mingled. Unlike parties where hired help did the serving, this barbecue appeared to be a family effort.
Sylvie accepted something called a Crazy Coyote Margarita from Dori, then caught sight of the bride-to-be across the yard chatting animatedly with several women. Josie saw her at the same moment and motioned her over. The excited smile on her friend’s face told Sylvie that coming to the party this evening had been the right decision.
With a spring in her step, Sylvie stepped off the flagstone patio and onto the lush green grass. She had paused to take a sip of her drink when the back of her neck began to prickle.
An instant later, a hand closed around her arm and a familiar masculine scent washed over her.
“Hello, Sylvie.”
She turned and stared into the brilliant gray eyes of Andrew O’Shea.
From the second Sylvie walked through Ben Campbell’s front door, Andrew didn’t take his eyes off her. Running into Ben, a friend from prep-school days, had been fortuitous. Other than Sylvie, he hadn’t expected to see anyone he knew in Jackson Hole.
The invitation to a barbecue was appreciated, as was Ben’s warm handshake. Yet Andrew had been fully prepared to offer an excuse until Sylvie’s name was mentioned. Ben had been telling some story about his sister, and Andrew had been stunned when his former fiancée’s name popped up.
Congratulating himself on keeping his cool, Andrew had asked if that was the baker who’d recently been featured in an article on Jackson Hole’s Wine Auction.
At Ben’s assurance that they were speaking of the same person, Andrew steered the conversation back to the barbecue and learned Sylvie would be there. He’d accepted the invitation on the spot.
Now she was standing in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair was different, not as curly and now with blond tips, but it was her.
While he’d had the advantage of knowing their paths would cross this evening, the look of shock in her eyes mirrored what he was feeling. It made him glad that, at least for the moment, they were alone.
A polite mask settled over her elfin features, and her eyes now gave nothing away. “Andrew. What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Ben and I went to school together.” Hating that he felt as gauche and unsure as a sixteen-year-old, Andrew shoved his hands into his pockets and willed his heart rate to slow.
It didn’t help that she had on the same perfume she’d worn when they were together: a slightly citrusy scent that made him think of orange groves and lovemaking. His pillow had retained the scent for days after she left him.
The hurt that had taken root in his heart since he got her text—a damn text—telling him the engagement was off and she was leaving was still there. But right now that hurt was mixed with an unholy anger that seared his veins.
“I best go back inside.” She spun around and might have escaped through the door, if his reflexes hadn’t been so good.
His hand shot out, closing around her bare arm like a vise. “Don’t walk away. Not again.”
Displaying surprising strength, Sylvie jerked her arm back.
Andrew had been poised for battle until he saw tears pooling in those large violet eyes. Resisting a nearly overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her, he stepped back and held up his hands.
If she bolted, he wouldn’t stop her. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t get his answers; it just wouldn’t be this evening. He could wait.
“I agree we need to talk.” She brushed back a strand of hair from her face with a hand that trembled slightly. “But this isn’t the time or place. This is a celebration of Noah and Josie’s engagement. I don’t want anything to spoil the evening for them.”
Andrew couldn’t help thinking of the last party he and Sylvie had attended. It had been held at his parents’ home in Boston. Though not a formal engagement party, it had been a family celebration to introduce her to Andrew’s extended family. It had been elegant and tasteful, and Sylvie had hated every minute of the gathering.
