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“Not about the pizza,” Candy said. “About Jake. I feel so torn. Like I have to help him, but at the same time, like there’s no way I can help him. It took me such a long time to get over him, how can I possibly go through the whole thing again?”
“It’s not as if he wants to get married for real.”
“I know, but his plan sounds like a pretty dangerous emotional game.”
“So don’t play it.” Kelly sipped at a cola.
“But if I don’t, I’ll feel like a schmuck.”
“So do it.”
“Gee, thanks,” Candy said, shooting her friend a dirty look. “You’re a ton of help.”
“Look, the guy gave you a week to think it over, why do you have to decide in the next thirty minutes?”
Candy swigged her own cola. “Because that’s who I am. I’m legendary in the shop’s kitchen for being quick on my feet in times of crisis. I mean, any time we run out of unsweetened chocolate, who else but me is going to know you can substitute unsweetened cocoa powder plus butter? And did you know one and a quarter cups granulated sugar plus a quarter cup of any liquid also works? And that if you run out of cake flour, then—”
“News flash,” Kelly said through trailing mozzarella. “We’re not in your boring old shop kitchen. This is real life, Candy. And guess what?”
“What?”
“Sometimes it sucks.”
“Gee, Kel, that’s sweet. Have you ever considered a second career writing greeting cards?”
“I’M COMING, I’m coming.” At six o’clock Tuesday morning, eyes barely open, Candy felt her way down the stairs and to the front door.
Whoever stood outside rang the doorbell again.
She growled before asking, “Who is it?”
“Me.”
Jake. Oh, now that woke her right up. She flew her hands to her face, hair, thin white tank T-shirt and cat print pajama bottoms. “Go away!”
“Why?”
“I’m not dressed.”
She swore she heard him chuckle. “Come on, Candy, it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
It had been on the tip of her tongue to reply with a sassy, “Yeah, but you haven’t seen mine,” when her conscience chose to remind just how much of her he had seen.
The last time they’d made love—not long before she’d asked him for a divorce—had been right there in the living room, on the couch she told Jake she’d taken to the dump. Good thing she’d had the foresight to move Goldilocks into the boathouse, or he might have gotten the wrong idea—like she held a soft spot for the wretched thing. And God forbid he actually think she’d enjoyed all those nights with him spent rolling around on that couch.
Her cheeks burned.
Okay, so maybe I enjoyed just a few of those nights.
And that last night…Oh, that last night had been steamy in every possible way….
Rain had been falling in driving sheets. That summer, Lonesome had been going through a drought, and the air that night was ripe—smelling of parched earth taking a good, long drink. Since they hadn’t been able to afford air-conditioning, the humidity had had them glowing with sweat. They’d been watching TV, but about nine-thirty they’d turned it off, planning to take a quick shower before hitting the sack. With only the one lamp on and the occasional strobe of lightning, the living room had been nearly dark.
“Come here,” Jake had said from the sofa.
“Why? I thought we were going to bed.”
He’d shaken his head, wielded that slow, sexy grin that melted her like butter. “Come here, gorgeous.”
She remarked that her heart had pounded just looking at her handsome husband, stretched out on the couch wearing only black boxers and his hard-earned muscles. Her mouth had gone so dry. Other parts of her—lower parts—had dampened with need.
“Peel off your shirt.”
“Here?”
“No, in the kitchen.” He’d shot her another slow grin. “Damn straight, here. I want to see my merchandise….”
The doorbell ding-donged three times.
“Come on, Candy! I brought breakfast and the groceries are getting heavy!”
Pulse pounding, palms sweating, Candy licked her lips. Opening the door, she averted her gaze, scared to death Jake could tell just by looking at her exactly what she’d been thinking.
“Morning, gorgeous. Mmm, it sure smells better in here than it did last night with all those corn dogs flaming. Miss me?” He kissed her on the forehead before strolling in. Even worse, it wasn’t groceries he carried, but the most adorable pink-cheeked, blue-eyed baby she’d ever seen.
Her heart lurched.
“Bonnie,” he said, turning the infant away from his chest and toward her. “Meet Candy. Hopefully, she’ll agree to be your temporary mom.” To Candy he said, “Wanna hold her?”
“Uh, no thanks.” Arms crossed, she shook her head—just in case there was something about her verbal message he hadn’t understood. Even from a good two feet away, she detected distinctly disturbing baby scents. Baby lotion, baby shampoo, baby powder—even Bonnie’s ruffled pink dress sported the annoyingly pleasant scent of laundry detergent. From a safe distance—say, ten feet—all of those smells were nice enough, but up close and personal? No. Couldn’t happen.
Except for that one time you’ve never told anyone about.
Yes, but I’ve already established the fact that an incident like that will never happen again!
Candy knew better. Babies were toxic to her system, and if she wasn’t careful, she might end up suffering some kind of meltdown. Frowning, she said, “Have you ever heard of picking up a phone?”
He grinned. “I couldn’t remember the number.”
“Lonesome does have phone books.”
“Yeah, but lucky for me, it also has rental cars, so I figured, what the hey? I might as well drive over.”
“Sure. Why not.”
“Great. I’m glad you’re happy to see us. Here,” he said, thrusting out the baby. “Take her while I carry in the grub.”
“Jake, I—” Too late, the infant was already in her arms.
“Abba, blabba—goo!” The tiny creature giggled.
Wow. Oh, wow.
To relieve tension, Candy would have ordinarily twirled a couple hundred hanks of hair, but seeing how at the moment her hands were kind of full, all she could do was stare at the wide open, porcelain-blue gaze staring at her.
“So,” she said. “You’re Bonnie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Bzzzzz.” A few bubbles escaped lips so perfectly round and sweet, they resembled a big, fat cherry plopped into the midst of Bonnie’s whipped-cream-smooth complexion.
The child gave a few sharp kicks before, with a juicy sigh, snuggling against Candy’s breasts.
Over her years spent working in a candy store, Candy had been coerced into holding her share of babies, but somehow, knowing this was Jake’s baby—even if by horrible tragedy as opposed to her being of his flesh and blood—made the experience different.
Better, in a terrifying way.
“Jake!” she hollered out the door. “Hurry!”
“What’s the problem?” he called, just the top of his heartstoppingly handsome mug visible above the paper sacks with Gregg’s Grocery emblazoned across the side.
Candy peered at the angel resting her cheek on her left breast. Problem? Gee, where do I start? “Uh, well, I think—”
“How cute. I think that means she likes you.”
“Yes, well…”
“You two hang out while I cook.”
“But I really…”
He’d shut the front door and headed for the kitchen.
“…don’t think this is going to work.” On her own again with Bonnie, Candy made a beeline for the kitchen. “Come on, Jake, you know about me and babies. Unless someone practically forces me to hold an infant down at the store, I always steer clear. My friends don’t even let me baby-sit.”
“Have you ever offered?” he asked, unloading bacon, eggs, cheese and…chili?
“Well…” Bonnie wriggled, repositioning herself so that tufts of her fluffy blond hair tickled Candy’s chin. A second later the baby’s mini hair bow slid to the floor. Candy knelt to pick it up, then, as efficiently as possible while working one-handed, she brushed the pink scrap against her flannel PJ bottoms. Wouldn’t do for Bonnie to get dust in her hair. Bow neatly back in place, Candy said, “I don’t suppose I ever volunteered, but then, everybody knows I’m no good with babies. I mean, besides my indestructible goldfish, I don’t even have any pets.”
“We had that kitten.”
“Dabney?” Heart aching from the memory of the tiny kitten, and the brief joy it had brought into their lives, Candy gave Bonnie a slight squeeze. “If I ever had another cat, I’d make her an inside cat. That way nothing could happen to it.”
She looked up to see Jake frown.
“What? You think a lawn service truck is going to come barreling through the living room?”
“No, it’s just that if there’s anything I’ve learned over the past month, it’s that nothing’s permanent. I mean, we can think it is, but jeez, when I remember how one minute Cal and Jenny were with me at a late dinner meeting, and the next…”
Cupping her palm to the curve of Bonnie’s head, Candy pressed her lips to impossibly sweet-smelling hair. Poor little thing.
“Guess what I’m getting at is that stuff happens. All we can do is live for the moment and hope for the best. So,” he said, looking as if he was making an effort to lighten his expression. “How about one of my world-famous, chili-cheese omelets?”
ALL THROUGH BREAKFAST, Jake watched.
Bonnie with Candy. Candy with Bonnie.
And all through breakfast, one thing became abundantly clear: Candy would make a great temporary mom. If only he could convince her of that fact.
In the brief time he’d been there, he’d already seen dozens of positive signs. Sure, at first, she’d been tentative about the whole baby thing, but no doubt about it, she was softening. The squeezes, the kisses pressed to Bonnie’s forehead, the unconscious yet meticulous care taken with repositioning her hair bow. Could the morning’s plans be proceeding any more smoothly?
In fact, things were running so smoothly, that in the living room, Bonnie had even sacked out in the portable playpen Jake had brought in from the car. Nothing—and he meant nothing—was more irresistible than sleeping Bonnie. She was so cute that he wouldn’t be surprised to find Miss I-Don’t-Care-For-Babies sneaking in there for a few quick rump pats!
“That was good,” Candy said, pushing her empty plate aside to make room for a cup of coffee. “At first, I have to admit to having doubts about your creation, but now I bow to your omelet prowess.”
“Thanks. I perfected these babies on the last company camp-a-thon.”
“Camp-a-thon?”
“Yeah. Me and the other board members get people to sponsor us to camp on the roof of Galaxy Sports headquarters. It’s grown into a pretty big deal—customers drive by, honking at us and dropping off cash donations. This year, we raised a bundle for Special Olympics.”
Grinning, Candy said, “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you don’t host simple, black-tie, fund-raising dinners like other business tycoons?”
“What’s the fun in that? I mean, come on, how many CEOs do you know who get to spend a whole week sleeping under the stars and playing rooftop volleyball all in the name of charity?”
“You’ve got a point there.”
Inside, Jake couldn’t help but preen. Candy’s improved mood could only mean one thing. Not only had he seduced her with his cooking, but she’d seen what a love bug Bonnie was and didn’t even need the rest of the week to decide to remarry him. A fact that put him in the mood to party. “Say, Candy Cane, if you don’t have anything going on today, how about we head down to the lake for a sail?”
She choked on her latest sip of coffee.
Good sign or bad? Man, oh, man, what had gotten into him to have accidentally called her “Candy Cane”?
“That sounds nice,” she said, “but I have to pack. And this afternoon, I should head over to the shop. I want to make sure there’s a surplus of everything when the new owners take charge. They’re friends. Greg and Betsy Hammond. Remember them from high school? They were a grade ahead of us.”
“Sure. How are they?”
“Good. Betsy just had their fourth boy. I think she was hoping for a girl this time, but…” Fidgeting with her hands, she said, “Anyway, they’re about the only ones happy with my decision to sell. Kelly’s finally cutting me some slack, but when I first told her, she read me the riot act.”
“So why are you doing it? I mean, why take such a drastic step as to outright sell? Why not leave it in the hands of your most trusted employees? Surely someone could run the place while you take time off?”
Head bowed, Candy said, “It’s not that simple. I need the money to travel, and I’m afraid what I’m looking for can’t be found in a few days. Something’s missing inside me, Jake.” Palms pressed to her chest, she said, “I feel lonely in crowds, like there’s a piece of me out there that I haven’t been able to find. I have to take this trip. I’m sorry if my selling Candy Kisses hurts people’s feelings. It’s hurting me, too. That business is my only family aside from you—or, I mean, at least you used to be my family. Now…” She flopped her hands on her lap. “I don’t know, I just feel restless.”
At first, Jake thought every word his ex muttered about needing to find herself had been hogwash, but now, seeing the sadness in Candy’s eyes, made the part of him that would always care about her wonder if maybe she was on the right track. Because, shoot, who was he to say running off on some great adventure wouldn’t be the key to unlocking whatever tormented her soul?
Problem was, if Candy took off to find her soul, that left him losing his. For if the state took Bonnie, Jake knew he’d be done for. Oh, no matter how bad it hurt, he’d abide by the law and give her up, but doing so might very well kill him.
Toying with his coffee cup, Jake said, “I don’t mean to pressure you, Candy, but I can’t begin to explain how much Bonnie means to me. I can’t—”
“No, Jake. Don’t do this. Please don’t play the guilt card. It isn’t fair.” Candy pushed back her chair, reached for their plates, and stormed to the sink.
