“Thanks.” She ripped open the wax paper and extracted a cracker.
“How far along are you?”
She munched and sipped. “Almost four months.”
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
Her blue eyes glinted with unexpected humor. “76549823-CBGT.”
Dan blinked. “You hooked up with a robot?”
Emily’s melodious laugh filled the kitchen. Her soft lips parted as she prepared to take another sip of her ginger ale.
“A sperm bank. All I know about my baby’s daddy is that he has an IQ over 140 and is Caucasian, blond, green-eyed and tall. And of course has no major inherited health problems I’d have to worry about.”
Dan had lots of questions. None of which would have been polite to ask.
“I’m thirty-five, my eggs aren’t getting any younger, and I wanted a family. The luck of the draw wasn’t working—I just never met anyone I wanted to settle down with.”
“Except Tex Ostrander.” Dan recalled the name of the guy who had caused her so much grief the night before.
Emily’s lips thinned. “Don’t remind me. I’m still mad at him.”
She didn’t appear to still have romantic feelings for her ex. Although why that should matter to him, Dan didn’t know. “Did you talk to him?” he asked casually, forcing himself to move on.
“No.” Looking to be bouncing back from her bout of morning sickness, Emily leaned her spine against the back of the stool. “Although, not surprisingly, he called me several times. But back to the job you offered me last night—I’ve been thinking about it and I can’t commit to a permanent family gig. It just wouldn’t work out for a lot of reasons,” she stated firmly. “But I could help you out on a temporary basis—until I have a chance to get some other chef gigs lined up.”
This, Dan hadn’t expected. He studied the new color in her cheeks and the professional competence in her eyes. “How temporary?”
“I was thinking through Thanksgiving. That would give me time to figure out what the problems are with mealtime around here—from a cooking perspective.”
Maybe there weren’t any, Dan thought. Maybe all they needed was a woman in the house again. “There wasn’t a problem last night,” he said.
Emily disregarded her success. “That was an anomaly. They were caught off guard. They were hungry. Someone set a table of hot food in front of them.”
“Hot delicious food,” Dan corrected.
Finding his mouth dry, he poured himself a glass of ginger ale, too.
“Whatever.” Emily waved off the distinction. She rested both her forearms on the breakfast bar and leaned in deliberately. “The point is, these complex family issues are not going to be resolved just because I’ve showed up.”
Trying not to be distracted by the fragrance of orange blossoms and the silk of her hair that fell seductively over her shoulder, he lounged against the opposite counter. “I think you’re selling yourself short.”
She mocked him with a waggle of her brows. “And I think you’re minimizing the problem,” she teased. “But we digress—”
Dan frowned in confusion. “Do we?”
Her gaze was completely serious now. “You haven’t said if you would be okay with the fact that I’m pregnant,” she pointed out softly.
Dan’s glance moved involuntarily to the slight swell of her tummy beneath the blue-and-lavender paisley tunic before returning to her face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m unmarried.”
And incredibly sexy, and likely to be even sexier in a deeply maternal way as your pregnancy progresses….
“You have impressionable children,” she added.
And I’ve had thoughts about kissing you…
He shrugged. “You’re a responsible adult.”
Emily raked her teeth across her soft lower lip. “Not everyone approves of what I’m doing.”
Dan enjoyed the experience of being there with her, the pair of them talking with the familiar intimacy of two people who’ve known each other for years, instead of mere hours. He reassured her with a look. “Not everyone approves of divorce, either. Stuff happens.” Old dreams fade. New ones take their place. “As far as I’m concerned, congratulations are still in order.”
“Thank you.” Emily smiled. “Do you think my pregnancy will bother Walt?”
Dan sidestepped the question as best he could. “He’s crotchety.”
Her eyes glimmered. She knew there was more. “Meaning?” she prompted.
Candor was something he could not provide. Not yet, anyway. “You don’t work for him. You work for me,” Dan said, and left it at that.
Emily surveyed Dan warily. “Is there something else I should know?”
Besides the fact that Walt doesn’t trust anyone until a thorough background check proves that person is trustworthy? Dan mused. “Not a thing.”
ONCE EMILY HAD fully recovered from her bout of morning sickness, they decided to get right down to business. “There’s a couple ways we could approach this problem,” she told the family gathered around the kitchen table.
“We’re not going to be able to solve it,” Tommy interrupted, evidencing the same lack of teamwork he had the night before.
Dan gave his son a stern look.
“No offense,” Tommy continued, hands raised, “but none of us like the same stuff.”
Emily knew sugarcoating the problems would not solve anything. They needed to examine their differences together before a remedy could be found.
“That’s true, although you all seemed to like last night’s dinner,” Emily said. “Anyway, according to your lists, Kayla prefers mainly breakfast foods like pancakes, French toast, eggs, cereal and so on. Ava’s into coffee, chocolate and salads. Tommy wants high protein and electrolytes. Dan wants anything everyone will eat. And Walt, given his choice, is a meat-and-potatoes man.”
“It doesn’t sound like we have anything in common.” Ava sighed.
“Sure we do,” Dan interrupted sternly. “We’re all Kingslands.”
“Uncle Walt isn’t—his last name is Smith,” Ava pointed out studiously.
Eager to join in, Kayla put her crayon down and piped up with, “Emily isn’t one, either!”
“That’s right.” Emily struggled to contain control of the family meeting. “I’m not. My last name is Stayton. It was good of you to notice that, Kayla.”
Kayla beamed.
“Back to the problem,” Emily said. “I can come up with menus that will please each of you. And I could make enough to feed you for several days if you wanted to eat the same thing every night, reheated.”
“Leftovers?”
“I don’t really like leftovers.”
“Me, neither.”
“Or we could draw straws to go first and take turns by night,” she suggested. “That way everyone would have at least one night a week where their favorite meal was served.”
The kids appeared to be thinking about this option.
“Or I could try to put one thing that everyone likes in each menu. This might make for some odd combinations. Spaghetti and scones, for instance.”
All the kids made faces.
“Or we could do something a little less mundane,” Emily said, more or less making it up as she went. “We could try eating a lot of new dishes from around the world. Maybe make some of the foods that your mom might be eating in her travels. We could even ask her what her favorite dishes are from some of her favorite places and try that.”
The kids looked receptive to that idea. Dan did not.
“I think we should stick to the tried-and-true at first,” Dan said.
The kids’ enthusiasm faded and they went silent.
“If that means meat and potatoes, sounds good to me,” Walt said with a shrug.
“SORRY ABOUT THAT,” Emily said a short time later as Dan walked her to her van. “I didn’t know you had a problem with international cuisine.”
Normally Dan did not discuss his relatio
nship with his ex-wife. Whatever went on between him and Brenda was between him and Brenda. But since Emily was going to be working so closely with his family, he figured she had a right to know. “I don’t encourage the kids to try and keep up with their globe-trotting mother.”
Emily looked shocked. “Why not? Surely she has e-mail and phone service.”
“She does. She’s just not good about using it for personal reasons. Sometimes weeks or months go by without a word from her.”
“Ava knew where she was.”
“Because Brenda put the two older kids on the list-serve that alerts her colleagues to her whereabouts. Getting a mass e-mail every time your mother boards a plane is not the same as having personal contact with her.”
Emily appeared to mull that over. “And the lack of personal contact upsets the kids.”
“It’s always hard when a parent lets you down.”
She nodded, for the moment really seeming to understand. Which in turn made Dan wonder what disappointments she had weathered in her life.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she said finally.
“Anyway,” he said, “Brenda is scheduled to come home between Christmas and New Year’s. Hopefully nothing will get in the way of that. Meanwhile, if we could just work on getting us on track to civilized family meals, I would appreciate it.”
For the first time Emily looked uncertain. “I’m no miracle worker.”
“You wouldn’t have known that last night.”
“Well, just so you know, I’m not here to step in and cater to their every gastronomic whim.”
Dan knew that what he’d asked of her was unusual. In his estimation, that unusualness was what had made that dinner so great. “The thing is, we’re not the kind of family who has servants waiting on us. I don’t want that kind of atmosphere for my kids.”
Emily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then what do you want?”
“Have you ever taught a cooking class?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you know how, at the end of a cooking class, the chef usually sits down with the class to enjoy the food with the people she’s teaching? I’m interested in creating that same convivial mood for my family during the dinner hour. Unfortunately it’s something they’ve never really had. Even before the divorce, the meals at our house were always catch as catch can. So it’s going to be like working with a group of beginners.”
Sensing she was a woman who liked thinking outside the box as much as he did, Dan continued, “The point is, I’m not asking you to make a meal and serve it to us in the formal dining room. I’m asking you to create a warm, relaxed atmosphere during the meal preparation, so the kids are free to come in and out and ask questions or just hang out if they want. And if they so choose, they can learn how to cook from you. During the meal, I want you to sit down and eat with us—the way you would if you were a family friend who’d come over to help out in a pinch.”
Emily made a face. “But I’d still be an employee.”
“Only technically. As far as the kids are concerned, you are a friend of my friends Grady and Alexis McCabe, and you’ve agreed to help us with dinner, using your skills as a personal chef and cooking instructor.” Just to be sure she knew he was serious, he named a salary that caused her eyes to widen. And still, he noted in disappointment, no sale…
“While I appreciate your offer,” she said, “cooking at the same home day in and day out is not something I choose to do anymore.”
“So you’ve worked for a single client before.”
“For a few years, right after I left restaurant work. But I switched to catering small events in different venues because it was more my style.”
Dan suddenly had the feeling she was holding back. Was Walt right? Was there more he should know about Emily before bringing her into his home? He decided it didn’t matter. He wanted peace in his family—now—and she was the only person who could deliver it.
“Look, just give us a couple of weeks and get us through the Thanksgiving holiday,” he persuaded. They both knew she had no other work lined up. And this would give her an income while she regrouped.
“Fine,” Emily said reluctantly. “But the first order of business is groceries. You need a lot of staples, Dan.”
So he gathered. “You want to give me a list?”
“Actually I’d like to do the shopping myself—unless you’re an ace at picking out produce and know the difference between baking soda and baking powder.”
“They’re not the same?”
Emily winced. “No. They are not.”
Dan grinned at her comical expression. “When can you start?”
“I can purchase groceries and fix dinner for you this evening.”
Dan couldn’t think of a better way to spend his Saturday.
“I don’t work Sundays,” Emily cautioned.
“What about Monday? Do you hire out for breakfast, as well?”
“How about we just do dinners to begin with?” Emily returned.
Dan knew he’d been pushing it, even getting this far. “Okay,” he agreed. “What can I do to help?”
Emily rummaged through her purse for her keys. “Just be here this afternoon around four to let me in, so I can get dinner started.”
That, Dan thought, sounded better than she knew.
Chapter Three
Dan was in the study, updating the plans for one of the luxury office condos of One Trinity River Place, when he heard a vehicle turn into the drive. Glancing out the window, he saw Emily emerging from her van. He walked outside, surprised by the drop in temperature. That morning it had been in the low sixties. Now he figured it had to be in the forties. And given the dark clouds on the horizon, looked to get colder still.
“See we’ve got a blue norther rolling in,” Dan said when he met Emily at the back of the van.
She looked as if the change in weather had caught her unawares, too. Her red chef’s coat and jeans were little defense against the chill wind.
Shivering, she nodded. “Guess I should have listened to the weather report.”
Dan gaped at the sheer volume of food in the back of the van.
“Doesn’t look like that when you shop, I gather?” Emily joked.
But maybe it should, Dan thought, noting the abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables. “When I go, it’s mostly milk, cereal, bread, frozen pizzas and microwave dinners.” Dan took the heavy bags from her arms. “I’ll take those if you’ll hold the door.”
“Sure.” She grabbed a bag that looked a lot lighter and moved toward the door.
Being careful not to crash into her, he led the way to the kitchen.
Once there, he was dismayed. The kids had left it in a mess, which wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t good, either. “Sorry,” he said.
Emily sighed, looking less than pleased. She pivoted to go back to the van for more groceries. Dan stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Why don’t you let me carry everything in? You really shouldn’t be lifting anything, anyway, in your condition.”
She stepped closer and stood with her hands on her hips. “That’s an old wives’ tale.”
“Humor me?” Dan said. He let his glance rove her windswept hair, her face, before returning to her mesmerizing blue eyes.
Looking at him from beneath a fringe of dark lashes, she released a beleaguered sigh. “If you insist.”
“I do. And don’t touch any of those dirty dishes, either! I’ll do them when I’m done carrying everything in.”
That seemed harder for her to agree to, but finally she nodded her assent. He resumed his task. By the time Dan had finished, every available space in the kitchen was taken up with an overflowing bag or carton. “I’ve got extra freezer and refrigerator space in the garage,” Dan said.
Emily was organizing the condiments, moving most to a cupboard by the sink. “We may need it.” She looked around, grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of spray cleaner, and mopped up some spilled milk on the
counter.
Dan gathered up plates and glasses and began putting them in the dishwasher. The silence of the house was broken only by the sounds of their activity. “Where are the kids?” Emily asked finally.
Watching the play of worn denim over her slender thighs and delectably sweet butt, it was all he could do not to reach out and caress her. “Ava’s with her study group, Tommy went running with a couple teammates and Walt took Kayla to a birthday party at the skating rink. But not to worry—they’ll all be back in time for dinner at six.”
Emily sent him a quelling glance. “What were you doing when I got here?”
Dan wiped down the tables. “Working.”
Oddly, color flared in her cheeks. “Why don’t you go back to it? I’m fine here on my own.”
Abruptly Dan sensed Emily was as attracted to him as he was to her—and fighting it just as hard. Obviously this situation—and the intimacy it brought—was going to be a lot more difficult to navigate than he’d thought.
“Ordering me out of the kitchen?” he teased.
Emily studied him for a moment, then turned back to her work with maddening nonchalance. “I need to focus.”
So did he. Because if he stayed…
“Sure,” Dan said. He left, trying not to feel disappointed.
IT TOOK EVERY OUNCE OF WILLPOWER Dan had to stay out of the kitchen and out of Emily’s way for the next two hours. For one thing, he was curious about where she was going to stow all the groceries she’d purchased. For another, the smells emanating from the kitchen were damned enticing. And it was his kitchen. He ought to be able to go in there whenever he wanted.
But the main thing he had to fight was his attraction to her. Being around her only increased the subtle sexual tension between them. And giving in to that attraction would not be a good thing. Especially while she was working for him.
Once things were settled in his home life, then perhaps he could see about pursuing this attraction. But for now? Emily was right to put up a wall between them and keep it there, Dan decided. It was the only logical, ethical way to proceed.
So he worked at his drafting table, and as every member of his family straggled home, he warned them not to go into the kitchen where Emily was toiling away. At six o’clock, he gathered everyone up and they headed en masse for the kitchen.
A Baby for Mommy Page 3
