A Father for Her Triplets: Her Pregnancy Surprise (4 page)

“We have about two hours before we get to the cake,” Missy told him.

He groaned. “Wonder what Owen’s doing right now?”

“You’d rather be in the sandbox?”

“All men would rather be playing in dirt than making nice with a bunch of people wearing monkey suits.”

She laughed. That was certainly not the old nerdy Wyatt she knew in high school. That kid didn’t play. He read. He studied. He did not prefer dirt to anything.

She peeked over at him with her peripheral vision. She supposed having money would change anybody. But these changes were different. Not just a shift from a nerdy kid to a sexy guy. But a personality change. Before, he’d seen injustice and suffered in silence. Now he saw injustice—such as Owen being alone—and he fixed it. Even his helping her was his attempt at making up for her ex abandoning her.

Interesting.

White-coated waiters stood at the ready to serve dinner. The best man gave the longest toast in recorded history. In the background, a string quartet played a waltz.

Wyatt looked at his watch again. Silence stretched between them. Missy knew he was bored. She was bored, too. But standing around, waiting to cut the cake, was part of her job.

Suddenly he caught her hand and led her outside, but a thought stopped her short. “Is the wedding bringing up bad marriage memories?”

He laughed and spun her in a circle and into his arms. “Actually, I’m bored and I love to dance.”

“To waltz?” If her voice came out a bit breathless, she totally understood why. The little spin and tug he’d used to get her into his arms for the dance had pressed her flush against him. His arm rested on her waist. Her hand sat on his strong shoulder. And for a woman who’d been so long deprived of male-female contact, it was almost too much for her nerves and hormones to handle. They jumped and popped.

She told herself to think of the old Wyatt. The nice kid. The geeky guy who’d taught her algebra. But she couldn’t. This Wyatt was taller, broader, stronger.

Bolder.

He swung her around in time with the string quartet music, and sheer delight filled her. Her defenses automatically rose and the word
stop
sprang to her tongue, but she suddenly wondered why. Why stop? Her fear was of a relationship, and this was just a dance to relieve boredom. Mostly his. To keep it from becoming too intimate, too personal, she’d simply toss in a bit of conversation.

“Where’d you learn to dance like this?”

“Florida. I can dance to just about anything.”

She pulled back, studied him. “Really?”

“I go to a lot of charity events. I don’t want to look like a schlep.”

“Oh, trust me. You’re so far from a schlep it’s not even funny.”

He laughed. The deep, rich, sexy sound surrounded her and her heart stuttered. Now she knew how Cinderella felt dancing with the prince. Cautiously happy. No woman in her right mind really believed the prince would choose her permanently. But, oh, who could resist a five-minute dance when this sexy, bold guy was all hers?

His arms tightened around her, brought her close again, and she let herself go. She gave in to the rush of attraction. The scramble of her pulse. The heat that reminded her she was still very much a woman, not just a mom.

He whirled them around, along the stone path to a colorful garden. As they twirled, he caught her gaze and the whole world seemed to disappear. There was no one but him, with his big biceps, strong shoulders and serious brown eyes, and her with her trembling heart and melting knees. Their gazes locked and a million what-if’s shivered through her.

What if he hadn’t gone away after college?

What if she’d been able to keep their date?

What if she wasn’t so afraid now to trust another man?

Could she fall in love with him?

The dance went on and on. They never broke eye contact. She thought of him being good first to Owen and then to all three of her kids. She thought of him angry when he’d jumped into her SUV. Righteously indignant on her behalf, since her ex was such an idiot. She thought of him wanting to kiss her the other night, and her already weak knees threatened to buckle. If it felt this good to dance with him, what would a kiss be like?

Explosive?

Passionate?

Soul searing?

“Excuse me? Are you the lady who did the cake?”

Brought back to reality, she jumped out of Wyatt’s arms and faced the woman who’d interrupted them, only to find a bridesmaid.

Missy’s senses instantly sharpened. “Yes. Is there something wrong? Do I need to come inside?”

“No! No! The cake is gorgeous. Perfect.” The woman in the pink gown handed her a slip of paper. “That’s my name and phone number. I’m getting married next year. The third week in June. I’d love for you to do my cake. Could you call me?”

Happiness raced through her. Her cheeks flushed. “I’d love to. But I have to check my book first and make sure I don’t have another cake scheduled for that day.”

The pretty bridesmaid said, “Well, I’m hoping you don’t.” Then she slipped back into the ballroom.

Slapping the little slip of paper against her hand, Missy joyfully faced Wyatt again.

He leaned against a stone retaining wall, watching her with hooded eyes.

“Look! I’m already starting to get work for next year.”

He eased away from the wall. “Yeah. I see that.”

She’d expected him to be happier for her. Instead he appeared annoyed. Her heart beat against her ribs. Surely he wasn’t upset that they’d been interrupted?

She licked her lips and fanned the little slip of paper. “She hasn’t tasted the cake yet. This might not pan out.”

“Everybody who ate at the diner loved your cakes. You know they’re good.”

She grinned. “I do!”

“So you’re a shoo-in.”

“Yeah.”

She took a breath. He glanced around awkwardly.

Then she remembered they’d been dancing. Her heart had been pounding. Their gazes had been locked. Something had been happening between them. But the moment had officially been broken.

And now that she was out of his arms, away from his enticing scent, away from the pull of their attraction, she was glad. Really. This wasn’t a happily-ever-after kind of relationship. He’d be around only a short time, then he’d go back to Florida. And her divorce had left her unable to trust. Even if she could trust, she wouldn’t get involved in something that might distract her from her wedding cake business. She’d never, ever find herself in a position of depending upon a man again.

She turned to go back into the country club ballroom. “It’s about time for the bride and groom to cut the cake. Once they get pictures, our big job starts.”

She didn’t even look back, just expected him to follow her. Even Wyatt with his sexy brown eyes couldn’t make her forget the night she’d sat staring at the babies’ cribs, knowing she didn’t have formula for the next day—or money to buy it.

She would build her business, then maybe work on her trust issues. But for now, the business came first.

CHAPTER FOUR

A
FTER
THE
BRIDE
AND
GROOM
cut the cake, Missy sliced the bottom layer, set the pieces on plates and the plates on trays. Waiters in white shirts scrambled over, grabbed the trays and served the cake.

Wyatt glanced around. “What can I do?”

“How about if I cut the cake and put it on dessert plates, and you put the plates on the trays?”

It wasn’t rocket science, but it was better than standing around watching her slender fingers work the knife. Better than wrestling with the hunger gnawing at his belly. And not hunger for food. Hunger for a kiss.

A kiss she owed him. Had she not stood him up, their date would have ended in a kiss.

Hence, she owed him.

When the last of the cake was served, she packaged the top layer, the one with the intricate orchids, into a special box. They packaged the remainder of the uncut cake into another, not quite as fancy, one. The bride’s mom took both boxes, complimented Missy on the cake, then strode away to secure the leftovers for the bride.

As the music and dancing went on, Missy and Wyatt gathered up her equipment and slid it into the back of her SUV.

Just as they were closing the door, a young woman in a blue dress scrambled over. “You made the cake, right?”

Missy smiled. “Yes.”

“It was wonderful! Delicious and beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed again. Her eyes sparkled with happiness. “Thanks.”

“I don’t suppose you have a card?”

She winced. “No. Sorry. But if you write down your name and number, I can call you.” She headed for the driver’s side door. “I have a pen and paper.”

The young woman eagerly took the pad and pen and scribbled her name and phone number.

“Don’t forget to put your wedding date on there.”

After another quick scribble, the bride-to-be handed the tablet to Missy, but another young woman standing beside her grabbed the pad and pen before she could take them.

“I’ll give you my name and number and wedding date, too. That was the most delicious cake I’ve ever eaten.”

“Thanks.”

When the two brides-to-be were finished heaping praise on Missy, she and Wyatt climbed into the SUV and headed home.

He’d never been so proud of anyone in his life. He didn’t think he’d even been this proud of himself when he’d bought the comic book company. Of course, the stakes weren’t as high. As Missy had said, she had three kids to support and no job. He’d been publishing comic books for at least six years before he bought the company, and by then, given how much influence he had over what they published, it was almost a foregone conclusion that he’d someday take over.

But this—watching Missy start her company from nothing—it was energizing. Emotional.

“You need to get business cards.”

She glanced over at him, her cheeks rosy, her eyes shining. “What?”

“Business cards. So that people can call you.”

She laughed her musical laugh, the one that reminded him he liked her a lot more than he should.

“It’s better for them to give me their numbers. This way they don’t get lost, and I control the situation.”

He sucked in a breath. She liked control, huh? Well, she certainly had control of him, and it confused him, didn’t fit his plans. Probably didn’t fit her plans. “That’s good thinking.”

“I’m just so excited. I’m already starting to get work for next year.” She slapped the steering wheel. “This is so great!” But suddenly she deflated.

He peered over. “What?”

“What if all the weddings are on the same day? I can’t even do two cakes a week. Forget about three. I’d have to turn everybody down.”

“Sounds to me like you’re borrowing trouble.”

“No. I’m thinking ahead. I might look like an uneducated bumpkin to you, but I’ve really thought through my business. I know what I can do and what I can’t, and I’d have to turn down any cake for a wedding on the same day as another booking.”

He nodded, curious about why her fear had sent a rush of male longing through him. He wanted to fix everything that was wrong in her life. The depth of what he felt for her didn’t make sense. He could blame it on his teenage crush. Tell himself that he felt all this intensity because he already knew her. That his feelings had more or less picked up where they’d left off—

Except that didn’t wash. They were two different people. Two new people. Fifteen years had passed. Technically, they didn’t “know” each other. The woman she’d become from the girl she had been was one smart, sexy, beautiful female. And how he felt right now wasn’t anything close to what he’d felt when he was eighteen, because he was older, more experienced.

So this couldn’t be anything but sexual attraction.

A very tempting sexual attraction.

But only sexual attraction.

She had goals. She had kids. She’d already warned him off. And he didn’t want another relationship...

Unless she’d agree to something fast and furious, something that would end when he left?

He snorted to himself. Really? He thought she’d go for an affair?

Was he an idiot?

He lectured himself the whole way home. But when they had unloaded the SUV and stood face-to-face, her in her pretty blue dress, with her hair slipping from its pins and looking sexily disheveled, his lips tingled with the need to kiss her.

She smiled. Her full mouth bowed up slowly, easily. “Thanks for your help.”

“Thanks for...” He stopped. Damn. Idiot. She hadn’t done anything for him. He’d done a favor for her. He sniffed a laugh to cover his nervousness. “Thanks for letting me go with you?”

She laughed, too. “Seriously. I appreciated your help.”

He nodded, unable to take his eyes off her. The way she glowed set off crackling sparks of desire inside him. Even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to kiss her, his head began to lower of its own volition.

Her blue-gray eyes shimmered up at him. Her lips parted as she realized what he was about to do. He could all but feel the heat from her body radiating to his—

She stepped back. Smiled weakly. “Thanks again for your help.”

Then she spun away and raced into the house.

He stood frozen.

It took a while before he realized he probably looked like an idiot, standing there staring at her back porch. So he walked into his grandmother’s house and dropped onto the guest room bed without even showering. He was tired. Crazed. Crazy to be so attracted to someone he couldn’t have, and it was driving him insane that this attraction kept getting away from him.

Two minutes before he fell asleep that night, he wondered if somehow her excitement for her business had gotten tangled up in his feelings for her and morphed into something it shouldn’t be.

That would really explain things for him. Normally, when he decided someone was off-limits, he could keep her off-limits. So it had to be the excitement of the day that had destroyed his resolve. That was the only thing that made sense.

The next morning he strode over to her house. Ostensibly, he’d come to get Owen to play. In reality, he had decided to test out this attraction. If it had been seeing her excitement about her business that had pushed it over the line the day before, then he’d be fine this morning.

Her door was open, so he knocked on the wood frame of the screen door. “Hey. Anybody home?”

“Come in, Wyatt.”

Her voice was soft but steady. No overwhelming attraction made her breathless. In the light of day, they were normal. Or at least she was.

Now to test him.

He pulled open the screen door. “I came for Owen....”

Papers of all shapes, sizes and colors littered her kitchen table. But she had a pretty, fresh, early morning look that caused his heart to punch against his breastbone. So much for thinking it was her excitement about her wedding cake opportunities that had gotten to him the day before. It was her. Whatever he felt for her was escalating.

He carefully made his way to the table. “What’s up?”

She peeked up, her blue eyes solemn, serious. “Doing some figuring.”

He sat on the chair across from hers. “Oh?”

She rose, took a cup from her cupboard, filled it with coffee and placed it in front of him.

“What I need is an assistant.”

“Do you think—” Because his voice squeaked, his cleared his throat. “Do you think your business is going to pick up that fast?”

She refilled her own coffee cup and sat again. “I plan for contingencies. I don’t want to be known as the wedding cake lady who can’t take your wedding.”

He laughed. “There’s something to be said for playing hard to get....” Maybe that’s why she was suddenly so attractive to him? Didn’t he always want what he couldn’t have? Maybe he’d only been kidding himself into thinking he was trying to get his inner nice guy back? And her playing hard to get had just fed his inner selfish demon? “Everybody wants what they can’t have. You could charge more money—”

“The more cakes I bake, the more referrals I get. I don’t need to be exclusive. I want to start a business, a real business. Someday have a building with a big baking area and an office.”

Their knees bumped when she shifted, and her gaze jumped to his as she jerked back. Her voice was shaky when she said, “I’ve been going over my figures, and if I didn’t save money for the winter I could hire someone.”

He tried to answer, but no words formed. Mesmerized by the gaze of those soft blue eyes, everything male in him just wanted to hold her.

He frowned.
Hold her. Protect her. Save her.

Was he falling into the same pattern he’d formed with Betsy? Once they’d started dating, he got her a great apartment, a new car. All because he didn’t want to see her do without.

And he knew how that had ended.

Owen came running into the room. “I made my bed!” He jumped from one foot to the other, so eager to play that energy poured from him.

Wyatt scraped his chair away from the table. “Then let’s go.”

Missy swallowed and she rose, too. “Yeah. You guys go on outside. Mommy has some things to think about.”

Wyatt’s gut jumped again. He could solve all her problems with one call to his bank. He glanced at the papers on the table. Was it really an accident that she’d picked today, this morning, after he’d nearly kissed her the night before, to run some numbers?

He sucked in a breath. He had become a suspicious, suspicious man.

But after Betsy, was that so bad? Especially if it caused him to slow down and analyze things, so neither he nor Missy got hurt?

“Come on, O. Let’s go haul some dirt.”

He and Owen left the kitchen and Missy squeezed her eyes shut. Since that dance, she’d had trouble getting and keeping her breath when he was around. And she knew why. He was good-looking, but she was needy. Four years with no romance in her life, four years of not feeling like a woman, melted away when he looked at her. His dark, dark eyes seemed to see right through her, to her soul. And since that dance, every time he looked at her she knew he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

They could be talking about the price of potato chips and she would know he was thinking about their attraction.

And everything inside her would swing in that direction, too.

Luckily, she had a brain that wouldn’t let her do anything stupid.

They hardly knew each other. What they felt had to be purely sexual. She had kids who needed protecting. And the only way she could truly protect her kids was to make her business so successful she’d never have to depend on a man. Keeping her eye on the ball, creating the best wedding cake company in Maryland, that’s what would keep her safe, independent. Eventually, she might want a relationship. She might even marry again, if she didn’t have to be dependent on a man. But it would be pretty damned hard not to become dependent on Wyatt when she was broke and he had millions.

He had to be off-limits.

No matter how good-looking he was. And no matter how much she kept noticing.

* * *

Playing with Owen cleared Wyatt’s mind enough that he made a startling realization as he was eating another dry sandwich for lunch, this one peanut butter from a jar he’d found in a cabinet.

His relationship with Betsy ultimately had become all about money. But so did a lot of his relationships. He hired friends who became employees, and the friendships became working relationships. He invested in the companies of friends and those friendships became business relationships.

Because money changed things. If he really wanted his feelings for Missy to cool, all he had to do was give her money for her business. Then his internal businessman would recategorize her.

Sadness washed through him. He didn’t want to recategorize her. He wanted to like her. But he ignored those thoughts. He was recently divorced. With his limited time, all he and Missy would have would be a fling. She deserved better.

Walking to the back door of his grandmother’s house, he sniffed a laugh. It looked as if he’d gotten what he wanted. His inner nice guy was back. He was putting Missy’s needs ahead of his.

He strode through her empty backyard, knowing the kids were probably napping. He and Missy wouldn’t just have time to talk privately; they could go over real numbers to determine exactly how much money she’d need.

His heart pinched again. He kept walking. This was the right thing to do.

On her porch, he knocked on the wood frame of the screen door.

She turned and saw him.

Time stopped. Her eyes widened with pleasure. When he opened the door and stepped inside, he watched them warm with desire. Her gaze did a quick ripple from his face to his toes, and his gut coiled.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I didn’t expect you back until the kids woke up.”

He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Offering her money suddenly seemed so wrong. She was pretty and she liked him and he’d always liked her. The house was quiet. He could slide his hand under that thick ponytail, nudge her to him and kiss her senseless within seconds.

The very presumptuousness of that thought got him back on track. She’d already rebuffed him twice. She knew what she wanted and was going after it. She wouldn’t sleep with him on a whim. No matter how attracted they were.