by Heidi Betts
Right now, Marc was using the remodeling and bakery expansion as an excuse to be close to his son, and something to occupy his time while Danny took frequent naps. But what would happen later?
What would happen once he decided he’d gotten to know Danny as well as he could here in Summerville and wanted to take him back to Pittsburgh to assume his rightful place on one of the silver-lined branches of the Keller family tree?
What would happen when the novelty of helping her create a mail-order business for The Sugar Shack wore off and small town living began to bore him?
And why did she bother wondering about such silly questions, when she already knew the answers?
The past couple of weeks, Marc had reminded her more of the man she’d fallen in love with and married than ever before. He’d been kind and generous, sweet and funny. He held doors for her, offered to help her clear the table after meals and put their son down for naps.
And he touched her. Nothing overt or overly sexual that a casual observer might notice, even considering how they’d spent his first night in town. Just a light brush of his fingers now and then—down her arm, over the back of her hand, along her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She tried not to read too much into the familiar gestures, but that didn’t keep her pulse from thrumming or her heart from hammering inside her chest. Aunt Helen had complained more than once that the house or bakery was too cold, but turning up the air conditioning was the only way Vanessa could think of to combat the erratic spikes in her body temperature that Marc’s constant presence and attentions created.
Speak of the devil.
No sooner had the memory played through her head than Marc pushed open the swinging kitchen doors, and she nearly bobbled the spoon she was using to dollop raisin filling onto the tray.
There went her temperature again, causing her skin to flush and perspiration to break out along her brow and between her breasts. At least this time, she could blame it on the ovens and all the hard work she was putting in trying to fill an order for six dozen raisin-filled cookies by three o’clock.
“When you get a minute,” he said, “you should come over and see what you think. The crew is almost finished, and they want to know if there’s anything else you’d like done before they go.”
“Oh.” That brought Vanessa’s head up.
She’d been over to the other side of the shop a couple of times during the construction, but hadn’t wanted to get in anyone’s way. Plus, Marc had been so on top of things that her presence and input hadn’t really seemed necessary.
But now that the renovations were nearly complete, she was suddenly excited to see how it looked. To start picturing herself there, boxing up her fresh-baked delights, overseeing the extra employees they would likely have to hire. Or would get to hire, if the mail-order idea was as successful as she hoped.
Sparing a glance at Aunt Helen, she dropped her spoon back in the bowl of lumpy, dark brown cookie filling, and began wiping her hands clean on a nearby towel.
“Do you mind?” she asked her aunt.
“Of course not. You go, dear,” Aunt Helen told her, bustling over to take over with the cookies. “I’ll just finish with these, and after you get back, maybe I’ll take a peek at the new space myself.”
Vanessa smiled and gave her aunt a peck on the cheek, then pulled off her apron and followed Marc. The occasional bit of sanding or hammering met her ears even before they reached the entryway between the two storefronts, but it had been going on for so long that it was nothing more than background noise now, and none of her regular customers seemed to notice or was bothered by it anymore.
Marc opened the door to the other side of the bakery and pushed back the sheet of thick plastic that had been hung as an extra precaution against sawdust and paint fumes. Holding it aside, he let her duck in ahead of him.
An awed sigh escaped her lips as she straightened and took in her nearly finished surroundings. The room was beautiful. More than she ever could have imagined, even after being in on the initial stages of planning.
Shelves and countertops of various sizes and heights lined the walls, creating more work space than she ever could have hoped for. The floor and ceiling had both been redone, and everything had been painted to match The Sugar Shack so that it was obviously an extension of the bakery itself.
“Oh!” Vanessa cried, putting her fingers to her lips.
“Does it meet with your approval?” Marc asked, amusement evident in his tone.
She was sure he could tell by her shaking hands and watery eyes just how pleased she was, but still she managed a breathless whisper, “It’s wonderful.”
Spinning around, she slowly took it all in again, and then again, her amazement growing with each turn. She didn’t stop to think about how it had come about, the strings that were attached, or how costly the bill might be when it finally came due. All she knew was that this portion of the building was hers now, her chance to grow and expand the business of her heart.
With a tiny squeal of glee, she threw her arms around Marc’s neck and squeezed him tight. Almost immediately, he circled her waist, hugging her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered near his ear. “It’s perfect.”
When she pulled away, an odd expression crossed his face, but before she could question it, the foreman appeared at her left shoulder. She was coming to think of him as the King of Rude and Untimely Interruptions.
“I take it she likes her new work area,” he said with a smile, addressing Marc.
Considering that her arms were still linked around her ex-husband’s neck, that wasn’t a difficult observation to make. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Vanessa cleared her throat and stepped back, putting a more respectable amount of distance between them.
“She does seem to like it,” Marc replied.
“It’s more than I ever could have hoped for,” she told the two men. “Even after seeing the blueprints and design specs.” She shook her head, sliding her hands into the pockets at the front of her white capris to keep from fidgeting. “I never imagined it would look this good.”
“Glad you’re happy. If there’s anything else you need, or any changes you want done, let me know. We’ll be here until about four putting on the finishing touches.”
She couldn’t imagine anything she would want changed, but while the two men talked business, she wandered around the drastically altered space. Admiring, touching, mentally filling the shelves and working behind the counters. She loved the sculpted molding and detail that precisely matched that of the bakery and marked it as hers.
Hers!
Well, hers and Aunt Helen’s. And Marc’s or the bank’s, since she was sure there was going to be a hefty price to pay to someone at some point.
But even though she’d resisted being tied to her ex-husband in such a way, she couldn’t deny that he had given her something no one else could—or would—have, and so quickly. She never would have been able to get things done in such short order with another investor or a loan directly from the bank.
Footsteps sounded behind her on the hardwood floor and she turned to see Marc coming toward her once again.
“They’ll be cleaned up and out of here in a few more hours. And the computer equipment will be delivered tomorrow, so you can start setting up then, if you like.”
Vanessa clasped her hands together, just barely resisting the urge to rub them together like some sort of devilish cartoon character. She was so excited, she almost couldn’t contain herself.
They would need a website…and someone to design and maintain it, since she knew next to nothing about that sort of thing. They would also need packaging, and to set up an account with a reliable shipping company, and specialty shipping labels, and possibly even a catalog.
Goodness, there was so much to do. More, possibly, than she’d realistically considered.
Alarm began to claw at her insides and her chest became suddenly too tight to breathe. Oh
, God, she couldn’t do this. It was too much. She was only one person, for heaven’s sake, and even if she counted on Aunt Helen’s help, that made them only two people, one of whom had reached retirement age twenty years ago. Which basically put her back to being only one person, who could not handle this type of workload alone.
“I know you have a lot to do,” Marc said, cutting into her panicked thoughts and allowing a small bit of oxygen to enter her lungs again, “but before you get too wrapped up in all of that, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. One day at a time, one step at a time. She’d come this far, she could make it the rest of the way…even if it took her months to accomplish what a rich and powerful Keller heir could do practically overnight.
“All right.”
“There’s some company business that I need to return home to deal with.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened in surprise.
She’d gotten so used to Marc being around that the idea of him leaving caught her unaware. Ironic, given how badly she’d wanted him to go back to Pittsburgh when he’d first arrived. Now, though, it was hard to picture the bakery or her day-today life without him in it.
Shaking off that rather revealing but unwelcome train of thought, she nodded her acceptance. “Okay, that’s fine. I understand you have important work back in the city, and you’ve certainly done more than enough while you’ve been here.”
She stopped herself just short of thanking him, but only because she was afraid that would fall too close to…well, thanking him, when he wasn’t really doing her any favors. Oh, he’d been wonderfully helpful, but not out of the goodness of his heart. Better to take what he’d so generously offered and get him out of town before he started calling in vouchers and demanding repayment in ways she was unwilling or unable to fulfill.
A slow smile started to spread across his features and her pulse jumped. That wasn’t a happy smile, it was an I-know-something-you-don’t-know, cat-who-swallowed-the-canary smile.
“What?” she asked, drawing back slightly in wariness.
“You think I’m going to just pick up and leave, don’t you?”
She had. Or perhaps she’d simply been hoping.
“It’s all right, I understand,” she said again. Sweeping an arm out to encompass their surroundings, she added, “This is all amazing, a wonderful start. Aunt Helen and I can certainly take over from here.”
That smile stretched further, flashing bright white teeth, and a feeling of dread washed over her.
“I’m sure you and Aunt Helen will do a great job in getting the ball rolling. But that will have to wait until after we get back.”
Vanessa blinked, replaying his words in her head. The feeling of dread started to dissipate, which was good…except that it seemed to be transforming into more of an all-over numbness that kept her brain from functioning properly.
She cleared her throat. “We?”
Marc inclined his head. “I want you and Danny to return to Pittsburgh with me so I can introduce my family to my son.”
Eleven
“No.”
Spinning on her heel, Vanessa stalked away, leaving Marc in the rippling wake of that cold, perfunctory response. Granted, he hadn’t expected her to jump with joy at the prospect of going back with him, but he’d thought she would at least be reasonable about it.
With a sigh of resignation, he followed her through the plastic-draped doorway and into the bakery side of the building. She was already out of sight, likely in the kitchen, which meant she’d been moving at a pretty good clip.
He lifted a hand to push through the swinging door only to have it push back toward him, nearly cracking him in the face. Aunt Helen’s blue eyes widened in startlement when she saw him, but she didn’t say a word, simply tipped up her chin and pranced off for the front counter.
No love lost there, he thought, stepping into the kitchen and finding Vanessa exactly where he expected—standing at one of the large central islands, seemingly busy and focused on more food preparation. Even if she hadn’t just walked away from him in a huff, he’d have known she was agitated by her jerky movements and the ramrod stiffness of her spine.
“Vanessa,” he began, letting the door swing closed behind him.
“No.”
She spat the word, then punctuated it with the slam of her rolling pin on the countertop. Cookie trays, cooling racks and miscellaneous utensils clattered against the stainless steel surface.
“No, Marc. No,” she repeated with equal fervor, turning on him, her white-knuckled fingers still clinging to one of the rolling pin handles. “I am not going back there with you. I am not walking into that museum you call a home and dealing with your mother, who will look down her aristocratic nose at me just like she always has. And how much more judgmental and condescending do you think she’ll be when you tell her I had a child out of wedlock? The fact that Danny is yours will be irrelevant. She’ll criticize me for not telling you the minute I found out I was pregnant. She’ll accuse me of going through with the divorce even though I knew I was carrying your baby, depriving you of time with your child and her of time with her grandchild. Of depriving the world of knowing about the existence of another great and wonderful Keller descendant.”
Since that was pretty much exactly what he’d accused her of when he’d first learned of Danny’s existence, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Especially knowing how haughty his mother could be at times.
Vanessa let out a breath, seeming to lose a bit of her steam. In a lower, more subdued tone, she said, “Either that, or she’ll deny Danny altogether. Declare he’s not really a Keller, because of course she’s always accused me of being a tramp, anyway. Or decide not to claim him as a Keller heir because we weren’t married at the time of his birth.”
She shook her head. “I won’t do it, Marc. I won’t go through that again and I sure as hell won’t put my son through it.”
Jaw clenching, he bit out, “He’s my son, too, Vanessa.”
“Yes,” she acquiesced with a short nod of her head, “which is why you should want to protect him, too. From everything, and everyone.”
Releasing the rolling pin, she put one hand flat to the island, the other on her hip and squared off, a mother bear ready and willing to protect her young, no matter what. “Danny is innocent. I won’t let anyone make him feel less than perfect, less than wonderful. Ever. Not even his own grandmother.”
Marc put his hands to his hips and cocked his head. “I had no idea you hated her so much,” he murmured quietly.
“She was horrible to me,” Vanessa retorted, rolling her eyes. “She made my life miserable while we were married.”
For a minute, he didn’t say anything, trying to gauge the truth of her words.
Had his mother really been that awful to her, or was Vanessa exaggerating? He knew women didn’t always get along with their husbands’ families and that mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationships could often be acrimonious.
Heaven knew his mother wasn’t exactly the warmest person in the whole world, even with her own children, but had she really been so cruel to Vanessa when he hadn’t been around?
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said carefully, “but I have to go back. Not for long—a few days, maybe a week. And I’d like to take Danny with me.”
At that, Vanessa opened her mouth and he knew another argument was coming.
“You can’t really stop me from taking him along,” he told her flatly. “He’s my son and you’ve kept him from me—and from my family—all this time. I think I deserve to take him home with me for a while.”
Cocking his head, he fixed her with an intense, no-nonsense stare. “And we both know I don’t need your permission.”
“Are you threatening to take him from me?” she asked in a low voice.
“Do I need to?” he responded just as softly.
Though her mouth flattened in obv
ious anger, he could see the pulse beating frantically at her throat and her blue eyes glittering with emotion.
“It’s just for a few days,” he assured her again, feeling the odd need to wipe the fear and brimming tears from those eyes. “A week at the most. And you’re more than welcome to come along, keep an eye on both of us. Why do you think I invited you in the first place?”
She licked her lips, swallowing hard. “You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you?” she asked in a wavering but resolved voice.
“I’m going to do this, with or without you. What part you play in the situation and how close an eye you keep on Danny is entirely up to you.”
She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t think the choice he was giving her was any choice at all, but damned if he’d back down or go home, even for a short stay, without his son. He’d only just discovered he was a father; he wasn’t going to walk away that easily.
Nor was he willing to let Danny out of his sight for that long. It might only be a handful of days by the calendar, but he’d gotten so used to seeing his son each and every day, to spending true quality time with him, that even twenty-four hours would feel like a lifetime at this point.
The same could be said of being away from Vanessa, he supposed, but then, his attraction to her had never been in question.
No, his thoughts now had to be for his son. And though he would never intentionally cause his ex-wife this much anxiety or upset, he couldn’t honestly be sure that she wouldn’t pick up Danny and run with him the minute he drove out of town.
It would mean leaving her aunt and bakery and the life she’d built here in Summerville, but she’d kept Danny’s existence from him once. What was to say she wouldn’t try to steal the baby from him this time around?
There was also the small issue of her current physical condition. Like it or not, there was a chance she was pregnant again, and until he knew for sure one way or the other, he didn’t intend to let her get away or keep another of his children a secret from him for a year or more.
Which meant that if he couldn’t stay in Summerville and keep an eye on her and Danny every minute, then he would have to take Danny with him back to Pittsburgh. Vanessa could go along or not, but the one thing he could count on was that if Danny was with him, she wouldn’t be hieing off to parts unknown.
