Her gaze strayed to the clock on the wall. It really was late for Simon. Worry settled over her, dampening her mood. Where could he be?
Silly question. She assured herself he probably got wrapped up in a project at work and forgot the time. She knew how that could be. When she was developing a new recipe, she could be at it for hours until she got just the right match of ingredients.
Maybe she should call him, just to make sure that was the case. She moved to get her phone from the counter next to the fridge. She picked it up and pulled up Simon’s number.
Her finger hovered over the call button. Should she? Or would it be overstepping? What would Simon think—
She heard the sound of the front door opening. She set her phone aside and rushed out of the kitchen, with Daisy right behind her. There stood Simon in the foyer. His black wool overcoat glistened with quickly melting snow.
He slipped off his coat and hung it up to dry. He glanced up. “Sorry I’m late. It’s getting nasty out there.”
“You’re late?” She tried to act like it was no big deal—like she hadn’t been worried about him. “I hadn’t noticed.”
He arched a disbelieving brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me that you haven’t eaten yet?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d been busted. “I tried to wait. Honest.”
He smiled. “So, you did notice my absence?”
Heat licked at her face as she shrugged. “I guess I got used to our routine. I started to worry when you didn’t show up.” Now what in the world had she gone and said that for? “I mean, I know you have a lot of work to do and sometimes you have to stay at the office late.”
“Actually, I didn’t work late.”
“You didn’t?”
He shook his head. “I stopped by the bakery. I wanted to see the progress.”
“The bakery?” Was he getting anxious for her to move out?
He nodded. “I was curious how things were going. But no one was there.”
“I was there earlier. They’re waiting on the city inspector. He should be there tomorrow morning. I intend to be there when he arrives.”
Simon’s gaze met hers. “Are you sure you’re up for everything you have going on?”
Her chin jutted out just slightly, as she didn’t like the thought of being judged differently because she was carrying a little human inside her. “I’m managing just fine—at least until the baby arrives.”
“Okay then. I will leave it to you to handle. But if you need anything—anything at all—tell me.” He bent down to greet Daisy.
“I will.” There was something more she’d been meaning to tell him. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me—”
“I do. You helped me through one of the most difficult times in my life.” She took a deep breath. This admission wasn’t easy for her. “My life has a lot of difficult twists and turns. I felt as though I’d finally got my footing and then the fire happened.” She blinked back the sudden rush of tears. “But you helped me through it. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“You didn’t need me. You are amazingly strong—stronger than you give yourself credit.” His eyes reflected his sincerity. “But I’m glad you think I was able to help you in some manner.”
“They say the bakery will be up and running by the end of January. But I don’t know. There’s so much damage.”
“If it takes more men, I’ll make sure you have them.”
He really was in a rush to get rid of her. She lowered her gaze to Daisy, who was sitting next to her. Pepper had definitely overstayed her welcome. But he was too much of a gentleman to tell her that he was tired of having her here in his space. Now that the situation with the insurance had been cleared up, there were funds for temporary housing.
“Hey,” he said, “stop looking so worried. I was going to say that my selfish reason is because I miss your coffee and cherry turnovers.”
“Really?” When he nodded, she took her first easy breath. “I was worried that you were tired of having me around.”
He frowned at her. “It never crossed my mind. Besides, when you leave, I’ll probably go back to takeout instead of the home-cooked healthy options you make.”
She couldn’t help but notice how he said “when,” not “if.” Her heart sank.
“Are you up for a little more business this evening?” he asked.
She shoved aside her worries about the future. “Sure. What do you need?”
“I have the contract for your recipes for the gourmet bakeries. Can we go over them?”
She nodded.
And so for the next hour or so, she read the contract. They discussed various points. And he took notes of her idea for the bakeries. The fact that he took her and her ideas seriously touched her.
Ting. Ting. Ting.
Pepper turned to the darkened windows. “Do you hear that?”
Simon nodded. “Sounds like an ice storm. Don’t worry. It’ll blow over quickly.”
She somehow doubted that a winter storm would blow over quickly. For some reason, winter storms seemed to linger, unlike summer storms that would roll in and out in a very short amount of time. Or maybe it was the short days in the winter that made the bad weather feel like it lingered.
The lights flickered.
“That’s definitely not a good sign.” Her gaze moved to him.
“I’m sure it’s nothing big.”
Pepper’s gaze again moved to the window. Deciding that Simon was right and there was no point worrying about it, she asked, “Have you eaten yet?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t have a chance.”
“Well then, you’re in luck. I made spaghetti and homemade meatballs. I had a craving.”
He arched a dark brow. “Isn’t it early for those?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been known to have cravings without being pregnant. I’m guessing it’s going to be a full seven months of continuous cravings.”
“That should be interesting. Any desire for pickles and ice cream?”
Her nose scrunched up. “That sounds utterly revolting.”
“I agree. I was just checking to see what I was in for.”
She walked to the kitchen, pulled the plate of spaghetti from the fridge and placed it in the microwave. Her gaze moved to the window above the kitchen sink. The ice was continuing to hit the window. A shiver raced over her skin. She’d never liked winter storms. She didn’t like the feeling of being cut off from everyone else; that’s why she’d always lived in the city.
Simon stepped up to her. “What’s got you rattled?”
“It’s just the weather.”
“It’s more than the weather. Talk to me.”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something and I’d like to know, if you’ll tell me.”
Pepper gave herself a firm mental shake, chasing away the bad memory. Retrieving the warmed plate from the microwave, she turned to Simon. “Where would you like to eat?”
He shrugged. “The living room is fine.”
Pepper handed him the plate and then retrieved a fork and napkin. She led the way. She settled on the couch and then lifted Daisy to her lap.
He glanced at the movie on the coffee table. “Is that what you were planning to watch?”
Simon, as she was quickly learning, wasn’t a television-type person. He’d rather bury himself in reports or read a book, which was fine by her. To each his own. But she didn’t want to bore him with her passion.
“It’s nothing I can’t watch another time,” she said, settling back on the couch.
He set aside his untouched dinner. He picked up the DVD case and read the front before turning it over to read the back. “Interesting.”
“Really?” She was totally caugh
t off guard. “I didn’t think you were into movies.”
“I take it you enjoy them.”
“I love them. I have an entire collection of old movies.” And then she was reminded of the fire. “That is, unless they were destroyed.”
“How many movies do you have in your collection?”
“Over three hundred.”
“That’s a lot of movies.”
“I guess I inherited the interest from my mother. She was quite eclectic, which is obvious by the name she chose for me because I was born on Christmas Eve.”
“I don’t think Pepper is all that rare.”
“No. My full name.” When he looked at her as though he didn’t get what she was trying to tell him, she said, “Pepper Mint Kane.”
His mouth opened and his lips formed an O. “I didn’t know. That is a bit unique.”
“No. It’s horrible. Do you have any idea what the kids did to me in school?”
“I’m guessing you wanted to change your name.”
She nodded. “My name. My school. My life.”
“So why didn’t you when you got older?”
She shrugged. “What was the point? The worst of it was over and by then I’d lost my mother.” Not wanting to go further down this path, she said, “Anyway, I’ve been working on replacing my mother’s collection of VHS tapes with DVDs. I’m guessing not too far in the future I’ll be replacing the DVDs with newer technology.”
“Are they all older movies?”
She nodded. “This Cary Grant movie...” she gestured to An Affair to Remember, which was in Simon’s hand “...is one of my all-time favorites.”
“Isn’t it a bit depressing?”
She shrugged. “I guess it depends on how you look at it.”
“And how do you look at it?”
“That true love can conquer anything—sometimes it just takes a little bit of effort. But never give up.”
Simon looked at her strangely.
“What?” She felt a bit self-conscious under his direct stare. “Simon, stop looking at me like that.”
“It’s just in all the time I’ve known you, I never knew that you were a romantic.”
“I’m not a romantic.” Was she? She’d never really thought about it. “I just like romantic movies.”
“Then put it on and let’s watch it.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She started the DVD, turned off the lights and settled on the couch, leaving a respectable distance between her and Simon. Daisy decided the empty space was just perfect for her and her teddy. And so by the glow of the fireplace, they watched the movie. Even when Simon finished his dinner, he remained.
And then without warning, the power went out midway through the movie.
They both waited quietly for the power to flicker back on, but as the seconds ticked away, the darkness persisted.
Simon moved toward the window and looked out. “Seems we’re not alone in the dark. Hopefully, it won’t be off for long, but at least the fireplace still works.” He turned to her. “Maybe we’ll be camping in the living room tonight.”
Pepper wrapped her arms about her. She didn’t say anything as she was drawn back in time to another place—another time.
“I’ll get us some blankets.” Using the flashlight app on his phone, he headed toward the bedrooms.
In the short amount of time he was gone, Pepper told herself to quit acting like this power outage was such a big deal. The fireplace would keep them warm and the power company would surely have the lights on in no time. This wasn’t the past.
“Pepper?”
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust her voice. And she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. After all, it was a power outage. No big deal. But during a winter storm, the chances of the power returning soon weren’t very good.
He moved to her side, opposite the dog. “Pepper, talk to me.”
“I don’t like power outages.”
“I don’t think anyone likes them, but they seem to bother you more than most. So tell me about your childhood. It might help pass the time.”
Her mind flew to all the embarrassing, hurtful things in her past.
Her palms grew damp as her stomach churned. She just couldn’t imagine peeling back the layers and exposing herself to him in that way. And that made her a bad person for not wanting to share. She knew it.
But what Simon didn’t know was how hard it had been for her to let him this close to her. She knew that people could show the world one face and then in a blink pull off their smiley mask and reveal another, more sinister face.
She turned to Simon. She studied his very handsome face with its strong lines and mesmerizing eyes. Did he wear a mask? Her heart told her that he didn’t, but her mind told her to beware.
Perhaps she’d start with why she didn’t like bad winter storms. It wasn’t like it was a big secret or anything. “It was a long time ago, when I was just a little girl. I remember it being a particularly cold and snowy winter. There was just me and my mom. I never knew my father.”
Simon reached across the couch cushion, placing his hand over hers. She found warmth and comfort in his touch. “That’s why it’s so important to you that I have a close relationship with our baby?”
Pepper nodded as she gazed down at their hands. “My mother was working two or three jobs to make ends meet, but then she lost a job and we had to go without electricity for a couple of very long days and nights. I’d never been so cold in my life. It had been horrible. We’d huddle around a kerosene heater.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been scary for you.”
“I’m sure you never had to worry about anything like that.”
“Pepper, I didn’t grow up rich. For the most part, my mother raised me as a single mom too.”
“Really?” When he nodded, she added, “It’s just that you fit so well in this lifestyle. It’s like you’ve been doing it all of your life.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t start to make any real money until I was in college. I liked to tinker with things. I always did. But then I started creating things and getting patents.”
“That must have been so exciting.”
“It was, but I had to overcome a lot of obstacles to make it that far.”
“What was your childhood like?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes it was awesome. It was like having the perfect family. But the illusion only lasted for moments at a time. The other times, it was a nightmare.”
Pepper felt guilty for thinking her childhood was so difficult. They might have been short on money, but the house had been full of love. It sounded like Simon’s childhood home was anything but loving.
“Okay. So I told you my story. Now it’s my turn to ask you a serious question. Why don’t you like Christmas?”
* * *
The doors to the past once again creaked open.
Maybe if he opened up to Pepper, she would understand why they didn’t belong together as a couple. She would know how damaged he was and want to keep a respectable distance instead of looking at him with need and desire that was so hard for him to resist.
If they were going to be a family, he didn’t want there to be any secrets. He needed Pepper to make sure he didn’t turn into his father—that could never happen.
Simon cleared his throat. “My father was an angry man and when he drank, he hurt everyone in his path.” He paused as though to gather his thoughts. “There were some days when he was fine, almost human. But most days...most days you just wanted to stay out of his way. And holidays, well, those were the worst.”
The memories came rushing back to him in sharp, jagged pieces. Each of them slicing into his scarred heart. And then the long-buried anger and resentment came roa
ring forth.
“I was nine that Christmas. I was long past the Santa stuff, but my mother shooed me to bed early anyway. She told me I couldn’t see my presents until the morning. My father was out, so the house was quiet—almost peaceful—except the silence was more ominous than relaxing.”
His mind rewound time until he was back there. He remembered vividly his nine-year-old self, so sure he was no longer a child.
“I’d fallen asleep, anxious for Christmas. I never got a lot of presents, but my mother worked hard to make sure I got one special toy and some clothes. I don’t know how long I’d been asleep when I was wakened by the sound of my parents fighting. It wasn’t uncommon, but this time it was so much worse than the others. Things were crashing against the wall. My mother was screaming. And my father was out for blood.”
Simon glanced over at Pepper. She was quiet and her eyes showed sympathy. But she didn’t stop him. So he kept going, leaving the grisly details out for both of their sakes.
“With my mother bleeding, I tried to stop my father—reason with my father. But he’d had too much to drink and he was too full of rage.” His voice cracked with emotion. He couldn’t stop here or he’d never get the rest out. “I was too small to stand up to a man who did manual labor all day long, but I gave it my all—giving my mother a chance to defend herself. And when I just couldn’t anymore, I dragged myself to the phone and called for help.”
Pepper leaned into him, wrapping her arms about him. “I’m so sorry.”
“The police arrested him. My mother and I spent the rest of the night at the hospital getting stitches, and our broken bones treated.”
He could feel the dampness of Pepper’s tears seeping into his dress shirt. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She fitted there against him as though they’d been made for each other.
“When we got home on Christmas, we saw how the tree had been destroyed, the ornaments shattered. The whole place looked like a bomb had blown up in it. I told my mother I never ever wanted to celebrate Christmas again. She didn’t argue. I knew she didn’t want to relive that night.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea when I brought home the tree what you’d been through.”
Her Christmas Pregnancy Surprise Page 14
