His Secret Starlight Baby

by Michelle Major

  “She’s working on her people skills,” Jordan admitted. “She has a ways to go on the lessons.”

  “Yeah. She scared the hell out of me. I thought chefs liked compliments.”

  “I’m not sure we’ve discovered anything Madison likes other than cooking.” Jordan tried not to let frustration seep into his tone. As amazing as his chef’s skills in the kitchen were, her attitude was becoming a problem. If her temper and surly demeanor overshadowed her food, he was going to have to make a change. Or convince her to make a change. Maybe Cory and her never-ending supply of positivity could help with that.

  All she’d said when she came home from her first shift was that it had been “fun,” and then she’d checked on Ben and gone straight to bed. Jordan didn’t know if she was exhausted or simply intent on ignoring him after he’d made the mistake of kissing her for real yesterday.

  He still couldn’t bring himself to regret it, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about her softness and how good it felt to be that close to her.

  “Did you get the paint?” Josh asked, pulling Jordan from his thoughts.

  “Two gallons of natural, nontoxic paint. Thanks for the recommendation.”

  “Of course. A couple guys from my crew are on their way. Let’s get any furniture moved out of the room, and we should be able to knock this job out in an hour.”

  “Perfect. Cory said she’d be back before Ben’s nap time at one, and I’d love to surprise her with a finished nursery.”

  “I have some stuff I saved from when Anna was a baby, too. We were surprised about the sex, so everything’s neutral in color. It will make the room look finished, at least until Cory does her own decorating. Do you want to tell me about the new fiancée?”

  “I’m a dad,” Jordan said simply.

  “I got that with the request for help painting a nursery.” Josh followed Jordan through the house. “Apparently, you’re also going to be a husband. There’s keeping things close to the vest, and there’s being downright spy-worthy secretive.”

  “It’s more complicated than that. I don’t feel like I can say much else, other than I’m going to do my best to be a good father. Maybe you can give me lessons, because I don’t know the first thing about it, and you’re an expert.”

  “Hardly,” Josh said with a laugh. He was a big bear of a man, an inch or so taller than Jordan, with light brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in months and at least two days’ worth of stubble darkening his jaw. He was dressed in a long-sleeve Henley and tan work pants, which Jordan imagined was his standard contractor uniform. “The most important part is showing up every day. I know that for sure. Everything else you can figure out as you go. Kids are resilient. Anna taught me that. She’s way tougher than I could have ever been.”

  Jordan had moved to town shortly after Josh’s young daughter, Anna, had been diagnosed with leukemia. Apparently, Josh’s wife had left Starlight and divorced Josh, unable to handle having a sick child. So Josh and Anna had managed through her chemo treatments together, and she was now a precocious and healthy kindergartner.

  Jordan spent time with Josh when he occasionally came into the bar for lunch with his brother, Parker, and a couple of Parker’s friends, police chief Nick Dunlap and Finn Samuelson, whose family ran the local bank. Jordan had never heard him complain about being a single father or the added responsibility. Anna was the center of his world, something Jordan hadn’t been able to understand until Cory and Ben came into his life.

  As they moved the crib and dresser into Jordan’s bedroom, Josh continued to give little tidbits of parenting advice while asking subtle questions about Cory and Jordan’s relationship. Jordan hadn’t thought about how much to share of the details of his son’s trauma but figured if anyone could understand, it would be Josh.

  “Ben had heart surgery when he was less than a week old,” he said as they spread drop cloths over the floor.

  “Are you serious?”

  He looked up to find Josh staring at him, wide-eyed. “Yeah. They had to fix a narrow valve. It was critical.” Bile rose in his throat like it did every time he thought of Cory and Ben facing that trauma on their own.

  “He’s okay now?”

  Jordan nodded.

  “Then why don’t you look okay?”

  “It’s hard for me to talk about or even think about what he went through,” Jordan admitted. “And what his condition could mean down the road. He’s healthy now, but what if that changes? What if I can’t protect him?”

  “Oh man.” Josh scrubbed a hand over his face. “If I had a nickel for every time I worried about Anna’s future, I’d have a lot of nickels. One of the biggest lessons cancer taught me was there are no guarantees on anything. Anna will see the oncologist annually for scans, and I can’t imagine ever sleeping a full night in the week leading up to her appointment. The relief I feel when she gets a clean report is indescribable.”

  “How do you deal with it?” Jordan asked, genuinely curious about a father’s point of view. “I don’t want to talk to Cory about my fears. She doesn’t need to deal with my anxiety when I’m sure she’s got plenty of her own. I should be the strong one.”

  Josh blew out a breath. “And you think being the dad means you can never show any emotion? Let me guess—you learned that lesson from your old man.”

  “Pretty much,” Jordan admitted.

  “Mine was the same way,” Josh said, “although he had a mile-long mean streak when he drank. Parker was better at not letting anything faze him, or at least he had a better poker face than I did. My dad saw me as weak because of it.”

  “My dad saw me as a way to finally live out his own dreams of sports fame. I was his second chance, and I still resent the hell out of it.”

  “Do you want to be like your dad?”

  “Not in any way.”

  “Then don’t.” Josh shrugged. “That part is easy.”

  “None of it feels easy,” Jordan said. “Although, Cory makes being a mom look so natural.”

  “Then you’re lucky. Don’t make her handle parenting alone.” Josh gestured to the empty bedroom. “All it takes is a little work to make your future into something special.”

  “You’re like the Dr. Phil of contractors,” Jordan said with a laugh. “Do you charge extra for the life advice?”

  “On the house this time.”

  They both turned as the doorbell rang. “That’s my crew,” Josh said, patting Jordan on the shoulder as he walked by. “Let’s make your boy a nursery.”

  * * *

  “Maybe ordering food and putting it in a pan so I could pretend it was my own would have been easier.” Ella glanced at Cory, who tried for a reassuring smile.

  Both of them winced as another crash came from the Trophy Room kitchen. After her conversation with Ella, Cory had returned to the kitchen with the goal of convincing Madison to agree to the idea of a cooking club. It had taken a lot of cajoling and begging, but the chef had finally said a reluctant yes. She hadn’t seemed happy about it, but Cory figured a bit of time would soften her attitude.

  Instead, Madison had stormed into the bar fifteen minutes earlier, complaining loudly and with an impressive stream of curses about wasting her morning off. She’d told both the women that they would have to wait until she got things set up in the kitchen, because she wasn’t going to be slowed down by two amateurs.

  “She’ll be fine once we get started on the recipe,” Cory said, then turned as the front door to the bar opened, sunlight streaming into the empty space. She certainly hoped it wasn’t Jordan, because she didn’t need to hear another round of I-told-you-so about whether Madison could play well with others.

  “Is this the cooking class?” a petite woman asked as she stepped into the bar. Her timid voice was at odds with her flaming-red hair. “I saw a flyer posted over at the coffee shop this morning. Is it
too late to join?”

  Cory felt her mouth open and shut in surprise. “It’s not too late.” She jumped out of her chair and moved forward, holding out a hand. “Your timing is perfect. We were just about to get started. We’re calling it a cooking club. But the Trophy Room chef will be teaching the rest of us.”

  Another crash, this one louder than the last.

  “Oh yes,” Ella said, shaking her head. “This is shaping up to be a ton of fun.”

  Ben gave a soft cry when the pacifier slipped from his mouth. Ella immediately bent down to unstrap him from the infant seat and lift him into her arms. “I’m totally using your baby as a shield.”

  “Why does she need a shield for a cooking class?” the redhead asked, eyeing the door to the kitchen warily.

  “It’s a joke.” Cory smiled at the woman. “I’m Cory Hall. The cooking club was my idea, although I’m not teaching it. I want to learn to cook.”

  “She’s got a hot fiancé to impress,” Ella called out.

  “Not really.” Cory shook her head, then frowned. “I mean, he’s hot, but I’m not trying to impress him.”

  “I’m trying to impress a guy.” Ella lifted Ben above her head, and he kicked excitedly as he took in his elevated view.

  “I don’t have a guy to impress,” the new woman admitted, sounding a little disappointed. “Is that part of the deal with this club? Women trying to impress men?”

  “Not a bit,” Cory assured her. “I’m actually new to town and wanted to meet some other women. What’s your name?”

  “Oh.” The flame-haired beauty ducked her head like she was embarrassed that she’d forgotten to introduce herself. “I’m Tessa Reynolds. I’m new to town, too. My aunt had a cabin here that I moved into a couple of weeks ago. I work from home, so I haven’t had a chance to meet very many people. That’s part of why I wanted to learn to cook. I also just need an excuse to get out of the house.”

  “I grew up here, so I know everyone,” Ella announced, turning Ben around in her lap.

  “So you have a lot of friends in town already?” Tessa asked.

  “I know people,” Ella clarified. “Which is different than having friends. I don’t want friends.”

  “Everyone wants friends,” Cory argued.

  “I definitely do,” Tessa said, almost under her breath.

  “I don’t want friends.”

  All three of them turned toward the kitchen, as Madison came through the swinging door and crossed her arms over her chest. “And it feels like a colossal waste of time to teach a trio of losers how to boil water.”

  Ella snorted. “We aren’t losers.”

  “You can boil water in the microwave,” Tessa said.

  “I don’t use a microwave,” Madison answered with a dismissive sniff. “I’ve never found a use for one.”

  Cory found that hard to believe. Her mother had heated up a wide array of frozen foods in the microwave and taught Cory to fend for herself with the ubiquitous kitchen appliance from a young age. Heaven help her if she’d eaten the last Lean Cuisine pizza when her mom went looking for an easy dinner.

  “Jordan was impressed you agreed to be part of our cooking club.” The lie rolled off Cory’s tongue so smoothly she wondered if she should be worried at how effortless it was becoming to not tell the truth. She’d always believed without question in the importance of the truth. “He thinks it will be good for your image and great PR for the bar.”

  “Stop calling it a club,” Ella demanded even as she snuggled Ben closer. “I told you I’m not a joiner. We’re taking a class.”

  “I like the idea of a club.” Tessa tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Do any of you play Bunco?”

  “No,” the other three women answered in unison.

  “My mom had a great Bunco group,” the redhead shared. “I used to watch when the women were over. I could teach you all if you want.”

  “Let’s get through one meeting at a time,” Cory advised gently.

  “Right.”

  Madison glanced at her watch. “I’ve got two hours before I’m leaving, so if we’re going to do this, we need to get started. No messing around.” She pointed a long finger at Ben. “And no babies. I don’t like babies.”

  “I love babies,” Tessa said. “He’s adorable.”

  “Ben stays,” Cory told the chef, hands on her hips. “Unless you want me to call Jordan and tell him you hate his son.”

  Madison narrowed her eyes, then turned on her heel and stalked back to the kitchen.

  “Well played,” Ella said, straightening from her chair. “You look like a wimp, but you’ve got moxie.”

  “Thank you, I think.” Cory shook her head.

  “Moxie is a compliment,” Tessa told her. “Do you want me to take him?” She held out her hands toward the baby.

  Ella shook her head. “Human shield, remember. She can’t hurt me if I’m behind the baby.”

  Tessa looked genuinely shocked. “Is she going to hurt one of us?”

  Madison leaned around the kitchen door. “She is if you all don’t get your butts into the kitchen so we can get started.”

  * * *

  “I take back every mean thing I said to you.”

  Madison arched a brow at Ella, who was forking up bites of the baked pasta dish like she hadn’t eaten in days. “You didn’t say anything mean,” Madison told her.

  “Maybe they were just mean thoughts,” Ella admitted. “But never mind. All is forgiven thanks to this amazing food.”

  Cory quickly clinked a fork against her water glass. “A toast to our amazing instructor. Thank you for taking the time to teach us how to make this dish.”

  “If Toby doesn’t want more than friendship after this,” Ella said, shaking her head, “he might not be the one after all.”

  They sat around one of the tables toward the back of Trophy Room, four women with little in common but an unspoken need for companionship and an appreciation for great food. The sausage and broccoli rabe dish they’d made seemed simple, but the flavors were complex and multilayered. It was truly the best pasta Cory had ever eaten.

  After a less than auspicious start, Cory had been concerned that she’d made a huge mistake in bringing together the group. But once they got into the kitchen, Madison relaxed into her element. Even Ben seemed fascinated watching the talented chef work her magic. Between sautéing the vegetables and adding fresh herbs to the dish, Cory, Ella and Tessa had followed her instructions to the letter.

  Tessa had pulled a pad of paper out of her tote bag and taken copious notes on each section of the recipe. She’d promised to transcribe and distribute them to the other two, which Ella had definitely appeared to appreciate, since she was going to try to re-create the dish for her potential boyfriend.

  Cory thought things might get tense again once they were all around the table, but the pleasure of the food mellowed each of them.

  “Why do you want a guy who’s put you in the friend zone anyway?” Madison asked, tipping her glass toward Ella. “It’s not like you’re horrible to look at, and you seem to have an okay personality—a little annoying, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Ella blinked at the backhanded compliment.

  “Moxie was better.” Tessa turned to Ella. “But she does have a point.”

  “You don’t understand the pressure we were under when we met. We were in a combat zone working to vaccinate children in rural villages against a measles outbreak. There was no time for anything but friendship. We were too busy keeping kids alive.”

  “That’s a huge responsibility and must have taken an amazing amount of commitment,” Cory said quietly. “So why aren’t you working in nursing now that you’re back in Starlight? Trust me, I’m not complaining. If you can help out with Ben a couple nights a week, it would be just a godsend for me. I can’t imagin
e anyone more qualified to take care of my baby.”

  “I need a break,” Ella said simply. “Plus I’m not sure whether I’m going to stay in town long term.”

  “This place is amazing.” Tessa dabbed a napkin at the corner of her mouth. “Anyone would want to live here.”

  “It’s a little off the beaten path,” Madison noted. “Certainly isn’t the easiest place to find really fresh ingredients.”

  “I think it’s perfect.” Tessa grinned. “And now I have friends, which makes it even more perfect. I’ve never been part of a club before.”

  “You aren’t now,” the chef told her. “I taught you all to cook something impressive because this one—” she pointed at Cory “—has influence with the boss. Somehow I’ve gotten the reputation of having a bad attitude.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Ella muttered dryly.

  Madison sniffed. “If you get some action from making my recipe, you won’t care about my attitude.”

  “I don’t care about it now.” Ella shrugged. “I’d rather you be grumpy than fake nice.” She bit down on her lower lip. “My dad and brother seem to think there’s something wrong with me because I came home and didn’t immediately jump back into nursing. Like I’m fragile and need them to coddle me.”

  “I hate being coddled,” Tessa said, and the bitterness in her tone shocked Cory. The redhead had seemed like a regular Pollyanna before this moment.

  Madison and Ella seemed just as surprised. All three of them stared at Tessa until she shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny.

  “Spill it,” Madison commanded. “I can tell you have a story to share.”

  “No.” Tessa fidgeted.

  Madison tapped a finger on the tabletop, and no one spoke.

  “I had a kidney transplant two years ago,” Tessa blurted. “It’s not a big deal.”