Delectable Desire (17 page)

Carter entered through the back door at Lillian’s and immediately noticed a marked uptick in the usual noise level. Drake came out of one of the offices and pointed at Carter.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” his cousin asked.

“Wearing for what?”

“Didn’t you get Shari’s text message? There’s a local news crew in the bakery. They’re doing a feature on Lillian’s participation in
You Take the Cake.
”

Carter had left his phone charger at home when he and Lorraine had left for her loft, not realizing that he wouldn’t be returning to his apartment. His phone had died sometime during the night, so any text messages were waiting in limbo land.

“Come on, man,” Drake said. “You know they’re going to want to interview you after all the press the animal cakes got after the Lincoln Park Zoo event.”

Carter looked down at his rumpled T-shirt and jeans. He thought the only thing he would be doing today was meeting with Drake and Malik about the upcoming book. He’d had no plans to even go into the retail portion of the bakery.

“Keep them occupied for a few minutes while I change,” Carter told his cousin. He quickly made it to the consultation office and pulled out the backpack he kept in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. The polo shirt he pulled out was almost as wrinkled as his T-shirt, but at least it had a collar. Carter slipped into the bathroom with his toiletry bag and a couple of minutes later, made his way into the storefront where the TV crew was interviewing Shari in front of a display of Lillian’s prepackaged brownie mixes.

“And here is the man behind those fabulous cakes that were on display at the Comer Children’s Hospital ‘View the Zoo’ event at Lincoln Park Zoo,” the reporter said, stepping over to Carter.

Carter dialed up his most charming smile and answered her questions regarding what went into making such elaborate cakes.

“Lillian’s has always been a favorite here in Chicago, but your cakes in particular are becoming just as renowned, Carter. How does it feel?”

“It feels wonderful to know that people are enjoying my creations,” he answered. “I work hard at my craft, and it’s great to hear that customers appreciate my hard work.”

“All of Chicago is looking forward to cheering you on in the
You Take the Cake
competition next month.” The reporter turned to the camera. “The great thing about this story is that the desserts taste just as fabulous as they look.” She took a bite out of a chocolate petit four. “Back to you, John.”

Carter turned, and found Drake standing less than a foot away. “
My
creations? Way to be a team player, Carter. Maybe you should just go out there to California by yourself. You don’t need the rest of us.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Carter spat. “You know that’s not how I meant it.”

“Really? It sounded that way.”

“Just because you’re insecure about your place in the business, don’t take it out on me,” Carter said, instantly recognizing the irony in that statement. If anyone was insecure about his worth to Lillian’s, it was him.

Drake pointed toward the camera crew, who were wrapping up their equipment. “You know who got them to come here? I did. They followed a link I tweeted to Lillian’s Facebook page and contacted me there. So I know exactly what I do for this bakery.”

Carter wasn’t up for this discussion today—or ever. “Look, are we discussing the
Brothers Who Bake
cookbook this morning, or what? If not, I’ve got other things I can be doing on my day off.”

“You do realize that Grandma Lillian and Grandpa Henry’s decision of who will run the bakery will depend on more than just who bakes the best, right?”

“Are we talking about
Brothers Who Bake?
” Carter repeated.

Drake’s lips thinned into a sharp line, but he didn’t press any more. “Malik is in the kitchen.”

“Then let’s get this over with.” The quicker he finished here at Lillian’s, the quicker he could take time to think about just what was happening between him and Lorraine. He’d never told a woman that he loved her before and actually
meant
it. He needed to figure out if he meant it this time.

Although Carter had a feeling he already knew the answer to that question.

Chapter 11

L
orraine turned off the shower and stepped onto the plush bathroom rug. It had felt almost as if she’d traveled ten years back in time when she’d slipped into the penthouse an hour ago, like a risky fifteen-year-old crossing her fingers that no one would hear her sneaking in. Thankfully, her parents either were still lingering in their wing of the apartment or, hopefully, had left altogether. They were due for a quick trip to France or Morocco any day now.

She wrapped her hair in a towel and pulled her silk robe from the hook behind her bathroom door. She slipped into it, her mind set on draping herself across the bed and sleeping for a few hours before she actually did something productive today. That is,
if
she could find something productive to do today. Something more than answering correspondence from one of the society groups her mother had forced her to join.

Lorraine stepped out of her bathroom and stopped short.

Her mother stood in the middle of her bedroom, holding a brown manila folder.

“What are you doing in my room?” Lorraine asked, tightening the belt on her robe.

“Did you have a good time with your baker friend last night?” her mother asked.

“His name is Carter,” Lorraine bit out between clenched teeth.

“Yes, I know.” Her mother opened the folder and peered at the pages inside. “Carter Drayson. Son of Devon Drayson, the youngest,
bachelor
son of Lillian and Henry Drayson,” her mother continued. “Carter’s mother and father were never married.”

“I know that,” Lorraine said. “What is your point, Mother?”

“Carter never finished college. He dropped out after his freshman year.”

“He went to culinary school. In fact, he attended one of the best culinary schools in the country. Again, what is your point, Mother?”

“My point is that I do not approve of my daughter dating a college dropout with a reputation that is equivalent to that of a male whore.”

Lorraine flinched at her harsh words. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her mother held up the folder. “It’s right here in black and white. The private investigator I hired uncovered several interesting things about your baker.”

“You had Carter investigated?” Lorraine asked with disbelief.

“Yes, I did,” her mother hissed.

“You had no right.”

“I had
every
right!” her mother said with an uncharacteristic shout. “Or have you forgotten just what it cost this family the last time you fell head over heels for some smooth talker, Lorraine?”

“Carter and Broderick are nothing alike,” Lorraine defended. “Don’t you dare put them in the same category.”

“Carter Drayson and Broderick Collins are more alike than you know. Do you remember when you discovered that Broderick was seeing at least a half dozen other women?”

Lorraine’s stomach felt as if it were filled with lead. “Carter isn’t seeing anyone else,” she said.

“I couldn’t find proof that he’s seeing someone else now, but do you have any idea how many women he has been linked to in the past?”

“Probably as many as your own son,” Lorraine countered. “Do you think Stuart is some eunuch that spends all of his time in the jewelry store? Please, Mother.”

“I have no illusions about what Stuart does, but your brother is discreet. He knows how to conduct himself, and every single girl he has ever dated comes from good breeding.”

“Carter is a Drayson!” Lorraine practically screeched.

“He is also a playboy who collects women the way I collect shoes. You don’t know anything about this man, but it’s all here.” Her mother tossed the folder onto her bed. “Why don’t you read it? Then see if you feel the same way about your little baker once you consider just how many women came before you.”

Lorraine crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t need to read a report on Carter. If I have any questions, I can go straight to the source.”

“Do you think he would tell you the truth?”

“What would that report tell me?”

“It would tell you that in all of his thirty years, Carter Drayson has dated dozens of women, but has never been seriously linked to a single one of them. Not one, Lorraine. Yet, all of a sudden, he only has eyes for you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“When you’ve only been dating for a few weeks? Yes, that is hard for me to believe. Do you really think this man has fallen head over heels for you, Lorraine? Do you think that’s what his eyes are really focused on? He may be a Drayson, but that is nothing compared to being a Hawthorne-Hayes. And there are quite a few Drayson grandchildren. That money pot would have to be split among a fair amount of people.”

“Oh, my God, Mother. Not everyone thinks the way you do. Carter does not want me for my money.”

“I’m sure you thought the same of Broderick Collins.”

Lorraine flinched at her mother’s well-placed barb. The woman knew exactly what to say to draw the most blood.

“You are not a good judge of character, Lorraine. Do not get caught up in all the flowers and romance. You need to take a good look at exactly who this Carter Drayson is, and think about what he really is after.”

For several minutes after her mother had exited the room, Lorraine remained where she stood. She stared at the offending file folder lying on her sage-green satin comforter. She told herself to march to the bed, grab it and throw it in the trash—preferably in front of her mother’s face.

But she couldn’t do it.

And she hated herself for it.

She hated herself even more with every step she took toward the bed. By the time she sank onto the plush mattress and pulled the folder onto her lap, her self-loathing was enough to smother her.

But she still opened the file.

* * *

Lorraine snuggled closer against Carter as the Ferris wheel took another huge loop. The air was brisk against her face, with just the slightest chill.

“The city looks so peaceful from here. It is breathtaking.”

“Don’t you have an even better view from over there?” he asked, pointing to her high-rise building in Gold Coast, which they could see from the Ferris wheel.

“It’s not the same,” Lorraine said. “I feel so free up here. As if I don’t have a care in the world. It feels heavenly.”

“And you weren’t sure when I told you I was taking you to Navy Pier,” Carter said as he placed a kiss against her temple.

“I told you that I had a horrible experience the last time I came here. As long as I stay away from the swings, I should be okay.”

“That’s where I had planned to take you next,” he teased.

Lorraine pinched his arm and then held on tighter to it. She rested her head against his shoulder, trying to block out the things she’d read in the private investigator’s report. It didn’t matter how many women Carter had dated, or that none of his relationships seemed to last very long. She knew what she felt right now, and it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She was not going to let some P.I. her mother had hired mar her vision of Carter.

Their seat came to a stop at the base of the Ferris wheel and they got off.

“I promised you dinner,” Carter said. “I guess it’s time I make good on my promise.”

Walking hand in hand, they bypassed the restaurants along the pier and headed for the food court. Lorraine laughed at Carter’s shocked look when she admitted that she did not like the traditional Chicago-style hot dog.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not a fan of tomatoes, or those seeded buns.”

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that you root for the Cubs instead of the White Sox.”

Lorraine scrunched up her nose. “Is that football or basketball?”

Carter’s head fell forward with his weary sigh.

“I’m just kidding.” She laughed. “I know that the White Sox is a baseball team, but you would never catch me watching a game, no matter who is playing.”

Carter purchased two hot dogs—a traditional Chicago dog for himself and a plain frank on a bun for her—then guided her to a less-crowded area on the pier. They stood against the railing, eating their hot dogs. Just then, something sailed past them, making a plopping sound as it hit the water.

A voice yelled, “Come here, Ethan!” and a young boy came running up to the railing. Carter caught him just in time.

“Whoa, there,” he said, catching the toddler by the waist.

The little boy pointed at the inky water and said, “Truck.”

“Ethan!” The father came up to the railing, pushing a stroller with a baby who couldn’t be more than a few months old. The man was puffing like someone who’d just run a marathon. “Ethan, never run away like that again,” the father scolded. He turned to Carter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carter said. “But I think you’ll need to buy a new T.R.U.C.K.” He pointed to the water.

Thanking Carter again, the father attached one of those kid leashes to the curly redhead’s tiny wrist and continued on.

“Looks as if he’s got his hands full,” Carter said.

“I give him kudos for being brave enough to bring such young kids out to the pier, but I do hope the mother is in the restroom or something. I’m not sure he will make it much longer on his own.”

Carter laughed. “Dad looked as if he was ready to dive in that water just to get away.” He looked over at her, his head tilted slightly. In a softer, muted tone, he asked, “Do you want kids?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. She dreamed of having children someday. And actually being there for them instead of allowing a nanny or housekeeper to raise them. “What about you?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Kids are so much responsibility.”

“Does that scare you?”

“In a way, yeah. When I do have kids, I want to do it right.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He was silent for so long that Lorraine wondered if he would continue. “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, because I do love both of my parents, and I know my mom tried her hardest to do right by me, but I’ve always resented the fact that they were never married. They’re the reason I stood out, the reason I’m different from my cousins.”