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“In terms of scandals we’re pretty tame these days.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Carter replied, turning to face Zoe.
The moonlight slashed through the courtyard and her eyes glimmered in the half light. She licked her lips and the moment melted into steam and heat.
“I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look,” he whispered.
“No,” she said. “You didn’t.” Her hands smoothed over her belly.
God, the need to touch her… He’d never in his life felt this way. Compelled.
And before he knew it, before he could stop it, he was leaning down to kiss her. Inches from her mouth, he stopped. “Can I please kiss you?”
Her smile illuminated the darkness. “Yes,” she sighed.
He’d never kissed a woman while smiling and it was a hot sweetness. Honey on his lips, fire on his tongue.
“Give us a kiss, Zoe!” yelled the paparazzi. Then the night exploded in flashbulbs. The whirr and click of cameras.
Dear Reader,
I can’t believe The Scandal and Carter O’Neill is the last of The Notorious O’Neills miniseries. The writing and publication of these three books has stretched over such a singular part of my life. When I came up with the idea I was pregnant with my daughter. While I wrote the first book she was an infant napping next to me on the bed and when this book comes out she’ll be two and my son will be in kindergarten! What?! Where has the time gone?
This series, which was already so much fun and special to write, has also been very personal. Thank you for picking up this book and for those of you who have written me—it means the world.
I hope you like Carter and Zoe’s story. I had such a good time finding exactly the right kind of woman to torture Carter…I mean, make him fall in love. She needed to be zany, courageous, driven and then, come to find out, she had to be pregnant, too!
I have never been one of those writers who believed the characters dictated the stories. They were my creations and I was the boss. But Carter and Zoe would not do what I wanted (remarkably similar to my children). So, once I simply followed my characters’ lead, some really interesting things began to happen, and Carter and Zoe have been two of my favorite characters to date. To say nothing of Vanessa…
I hope you enjoy the last of The Notorious O’Neills. Please drop me a line at [email protected]. I love to hear from readers!
Happy reading!
Molly O’Keefe
The Scandal and Carter O’Neill
Molly O’Keefe
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Despite how it may appear in her books, Molly O’Keefe has a wonderful mother. She has no experience with bad mothers and cannot explain why many of the mothers in her books are so awful. Molly never intended for her own mother to get those dirty looks at the grocery store. Molly lives in Toronto, Canada, with her husband and two children.
For Sarah, Cam, Robert and Katie-Bear.
Thank you for the Friday night dinners, the Sunday morning skating lessons, the Springsteen dance parties and for teaching my son the “pull my finger” joke.
We couldn’t ask for better friends.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
THERE WERE TWO KINDS of people in Carter O’Neill’s world. Logical people who saw reason and agreed with him about the Jimmie Simpson Community Center. Then there were the others. The others, who wanted his blood. Who wanted to string him up by his neck and shove bamboo under his fingernails, just to hear him scream.
Right now, he was surrounded by the others.
Looking out at the mob of seniors and single moms, all he saw was bloodlust in their eyes. Even the toddlers were sharpening their incisors on their teething rings.
But no one looked more furious than Tootie Vogler, who showed up at every single informational meeting, with her Sunday hat and her white gloves and so much anger in her eighty-year-old body she nearly levitated.
“Mrs. Vogler,” Carter said with as much calm as he could muster, which couldn’t have been much because she bristled, her white curls practically going straight. “Mrs. Vogler, hear me out. As I’ve explained, the activities and services that are currently offered here will be held in the new building.”
“But,” she said, standing in the front row of the small gathering being held in the decaying belly of the Jimmie Simpson Community Center, “what happens while you’re building that new building?”
It took every muscle in his body to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“Yeah,” one of the mothers said, jiggling a baby in her arms while her toddler ran amuck in the corner, grabbing the cookies they’d laid out. Seriously, she needed to be watching that kid instead of asking the same damn questions he’d heard—and answered—a thousand times already. “How long is it going to take?”
“Once we tear down the existing building it will take a year—”
“A year!” Another one of the mothers cried as if he’d just said he wanted to eat her kid for lunch.
“Well,” Mrs. Vogler said, “that’s what you say now, but what about what
