A Baby for Mommy Read online

  “Will do.”

  She unfolded her legs and rose. “I’m going to have a glass of milk. Would you like some?”

  Dan threw caution to the wind. “Actually—” he stood, too “—I’d like to take you to dinner.”

  Her elegant brows rose in surprise.

  Aware he might be pushing too hard, too fast, Dan backed off with an excuse he knew she could readily accept. “It’ll have to be short. I promised Tommy I’d be at the high-school gym to see his match. But it would give us a chance to discuss some of the finer points of the retail store. It’ll make a big difference in the preliminary bid.”

  Emily relaxed. “I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes,” she said.

  THIS WASN’T A DATE, Emily kept telling herself as she put on a sophisticated black maternity dress and ran a brush through her hair.

  But it felt like a date.

  Just as practically every moment alone with Dan did.

  She really had to get a grip.

  Unless Tex insisted they go with another firm—something she would fight—Dan was going to be the architect on this project. She would be in touch with him constantly…for business.

  She would no longer be living in Fort Worth or cooking for his family or seeing him nearly every day. The intimacy of their contact would lessen drastically.

  It wasn’t like she was going to be in shape for anything more for too much longer, anyway, Emily reminded herself sternly. Her tummy was expanding, and although Dan didn’t seem to mind making love to her, she knew as her pregnancy progressed, that might not still be the case.

  She needed to be grateful for what passion they had shared.

  The only problem was, she wanted to make love to him again.

  She always wanted to make love to him, she realized wistfully. Wanted to be in love with him and have him love her back. And something in her told her that would never change. No matter where she lived or how much time passed…or how big her waistline got. Or what different timelines they were on, when it came to having a family…

  Fortunately for Emily’s fragile state of mind, time constraints necessitated that the two of them get down to business as soon as they were seated.

  During the appetizers, they discussed the cost of various building materials. They were briefly interrupted when Emily was approached by a former client who wanted her to do a Thanksgiving-week brunch. Emily had enjoyed working for the woman before so she said yes and promised to call her later to discuss it.

  During the salad course, Dan asked Emily just how rustic the inside of the retail store should be, and they discussed the various ways they could accomplish that. Between bites of the main course, they talked about where the elevators should be located. They had to put their strategy session on hold again when Emily was spotted by yet another former client, this one wanting her to do a luncheon. Emily knew the job would pay handsomely and would be creatively satisfying so she said yes.

  “Sorry about that,” Emily said when the businesswoman finally left the table.

  Dan shrugged as he took a sip of water. A businessman himself, he understood. “It’s a busy time of year for everyone in the food business.”

  Still…“I shouldn’t have taken the luncheon gig earlier today, after already figuratively closing the doors on my business.”

  Dan leveled his gaze on hers. The sincerity in his eyes had her heart hammering in her chest. “But you wanted to do it.”

  Emily pleated the fabric of the starched linen tablecloth between her thumb and index finger. “What can I say?” She studied him right back. “The money’s good.” She was unable to suppress a rueful smile. “And there’s probably a little ego involved, too.”

  Dan reached over to take her hand in his, stilling the restless motion of her fingers. “How so?”

  She sat back against the sumptuous leather booth and he let go of her hand. “I worked hard to establish myself as one of the best personal chefs in Fort Worth.” Knowing the best way to keep her relationship with Dan uncomplicated was to maintain a light tone, she continued with an offhand shrug and a self-effacing quirk of her lips. “I get so many compliments when I cook for someone. I know my food makes people happy.” It’s made you and your family happy. Emily swallowed around the tightness of her throat. “It’s difficult to walk away from that.” Almost as difficult as it is to walk away from you.

  “Then why are you?” Dan asked. He held up a palm before she could respond. “I know you want to be part of the effort to revitalize the orchard your parents started. But there’s nothing that says you have to move to Fredericksburg before the birth of your baby in April.” He looked at her intently. “You could stay here. Continue cooking for my family, take extra gigs, maybe even hire some help to keep Chef for Hire going indefinitely while you oversee the building of the retail store and tearoom at the orchard.”

  Emily was unsure if he was asking for her convenience—or his. All she knew for certain was that it wasn’t the kind of proposal she wanted from Dan. She rubbed her palm over the baby kicking inside her belly, every ounce of maternal protectiveness coming to the fore. “Are you forgetting I’m pregnant?”

  His glance roamed her curvy shape.

  Apparently not, Emily thought.

  She swallowed once again and continued, “I’d have to be superhuman to do all that.”

  Dan sat back, too, his countenance indomitable. “Okay, then, forget the extra gigs. Just cook for my family while you get the orchard business up and running.”

  “Tex—”

  “Simultaneously oversees several different businesses, in different parts of the state, too.”

  Okay, so it wasn’t Tex she had the problem with right now, Emily acknowledged, working to keep her out-of-control emotions in check. “My deal with him requires I reside on the premises.”

  Dan tensed. “Have you signed anything yet?”

  “No.” Emily tried not to feel too relieved. “The partnership agreement is still being drawn up. It won’t be official until after Thanksgiving.”

  “Then there’s still time to negotiate.” Dan leaned forward and took her hand in his again. “Get what you want out of this arrangement. Don’t let Tex steamroll you, Emily. You’re tougher and more astute than that.”

  It wasn’t Tex that Emily was having trouble handling. The difficulty was with her growing feelings for Dan.

  She looked down at their intertwined hands, amazed at how natural—how right—his protective grip felt. “You’re forgetting another aspect of this problem,” she forced herself to say. “I have to be out of my loft by the end of the month. I’m going to have to move somewhere.”

  Dan shrugged. “Fort Worth has plenty of available housing of all kinds.”

  Emily disengaged their hands. “None that would be rent-free—which is what Tex is offering.”

  “There’s one place,” Dan said, more determined than ever. “You could move in with me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Emily stared at Dan in shock. “Whoa there, fella!”

  Okay, so his wasn’t his most eloquent proposition ever, Dan admonished himself. But it was probably the most forthright. “It’s not like I’m asking you to bunk in with me.” Or sleep with me. Having the kids around would put an end to those thoughts, tempting as they were. “We have a guest room.”

  “That not even your ex-wife uses,” Emily pointed out.

  Dan concentrated on the presumptuous gleam in her eyes. “Only because Brenda prefers to stay in a hotel when she’s in town. Otherwise, awkward as it might be, I would be happy to put her up for the kids’ sake.”

  Her posture militant, Emily sat back in her chair and folded her arms. The action pushed up her breasts so their soft roundness spilled out of the sexy V-neck of her dress. A heart-shaped pendant nestled in the hollow of her alabaster skin. “And your offer to me is for the kids’ sake, too. Because you want the kids to continue to have home-cooked meals.”

  “Of course,” he said, though that w
asn’t the entire truth. Yes, she’d brought wonderful changes to his house. And all three of his children were happier than they’d been since their mother had left to take a job overseas. But for the first time in years he had a spring in his step and joy in his heart…

  However, his glib offer was, and would remain, a strictly business proposition. Until such time that Emily’s talents as a chef were no longer needed in his household, and then he would be free to pursue her the way he had wanted to pursue her from the very first.

  Emily relaxed slightly.

  Encouraged, Dan continued his sales pitch. “It’s not that unorthodox an arrangement. Lots of people have personal chefs who live in.”

  Emily tensed.

  Dan swore silently to himself. Clearly a wrong move where she was concerned. What was the matter with him? Once again, he forced himself to go on with strictly professional enthusiasm. “It could be for a few days or even weeks.”

  “I appreciate the offer.” Emily offered a brisk smile. “But staying under your roof would feel too much like living with you, in the same way that working in your home, cooking dinner for your family almost every night, feels pretty intimate, too. As I told you, I got into trouble that way before—I don’t want it to happen again.”

  Dan saw her swallow, saw the vulnerable light back in her eyes. She looked down and ran her fingertips over the condensation on her water glass, gently rubbing at the moisture until it disappeared. “It’s one of the reasons I’m really looking forward to meeting Brenda when she comes in next week.” Her throat sounded as if it were clogged with tears. “I need to remind myself that as much as the kids might need and want a mom in their lives, as much as they’ve turned to me that way in the last two weeks, they still have a mother.” She gulped again, trembling this time. “And it’s not me.”

  Emily moved her hand to the swell of her tummy. Rubbing the area lovingly, she said, “Happily, this time, I do have a child of my own. And as such, I have to do what’s right for my baby—and that’s create a whole new life that will allow me to be with my child every day and every night.”

  “So you’re headed to Fredericksburg on December first?” Dan asked, unable to contain his disappointment.

  “If the partnership agreement is signed by then, yes,” Emily confirmed.

  “THE THING IS,” DAN TOLD his friends the next afternoon when they had finished their joint-work session at the McCabe Building in downtown Fort Worth, “I’d really appreciate it if you all would put out the word that Emily may not be closing Chef for Hire after all—at least not right away—and is taking on jobs for the holiday season. Through Thanksgiving, but I think she could be persuaded to do some Christmas and New Year’s gigs, too.”

  Nate, Grady, Travis and Jack exchanged looks as the five of them gathered up the plans and notes spread across the large piece of plywood that had served as their conference table in the unfinished executive floor for Nate’s company.

  Grimacing at the sound of the nail gun being used in the framing of a set of rooms to their right, Grady asked, “Does she know you’re doing this on her behalf?”

  “No. And I’d rather she didn’t.” Dan rolled up the amended blueprints and slid them into the carrying case.

  “Because?” Nate queried.

  Dan strode to the tinted windows, overlooking the Trinity River. “She’d probably think I’m interfering.”

  “Aren’t you?” Grady asked.

  “Emily has doubts about what she’s doing,” Dan said, pushing away his guilt. “I think she would have called off her move to Fredericksburg if she didn’t feel duty-bound to help restore the orchard her father started.”

  “Why is that your problem?” Travis asked, shutting down his laptop.

  “Because I owe her—for everything she’s done for me and my kids the past few weeks.”

  Another round of looks was exchanged. The recently married Grady slapped a companionable hand on Dan’s shoulder. “We all know you swore off marriage when you got divorced.”

  “Maybe it’s time you reconsidered,” Jack said kindly.

  Dan resented the advice. “I’m just trying to help her out because I don’t want to see her make a mistake.”

  “The only mistake I see here is you not being honest with yourself,” Nate interjected bluntly. “Face it, buddy. I’m the devoted bachelor—you’re the marrying kind.”

  Dan swallowed as the unsolicited advice hit a little too close to home.

  “Any idea whether she’s having a boy or a girl?” Grady asked.

  “No,” Dan said, wondering where that had come from. He looked at his friends, beginning to get really irked now at all this interference regarding his love life. “What does that matter?”

  Nate jumped in with, “Sons need fathers around.”

  “It’d be a point in your favor,” Jack added helpfully.

  “Should you ever decide to put aside your fear and go after Emily the way you obviously want to,” Grady teased.

  Grimacing, Dan realized the guys were right. He was kidding himself, thinking he could let Emily go without first giving their relationship a real shot. The kind of connection they had came along once in a lifetime if you were lucky. He’d be a fool to ignore it.

  “Speaking of beautiful women…” Nate murmured.

  The service elevator had halted at the other end of the mostly open floor. Looking wonderful in a red chef’s coat, jeans and yellow hard hat required by anyone prowling the half-constructed interior of the building, Emily stepped out of the metal cage. She had a bag slung over one shoulder and a folder in her hand. Seeing Dan, she lifted a hand.

  “Good luck, buddy,” Jack said.

  His pals headed toward the elevator. Heart kicking against his ribs, Dan stayed right where he was. As Emily neared him, the sound of a jackhammer from the floor below reverberated.

  Wincing at the earsplitting noise, only partially muffled by the solid wall of concrete between them, she cupped a hand around her mouth. “I was going to ask if you had a minute to talk to me!”

  Dan knew it must be important if she’d sought him out here. The problem was, the noise level here was intrusive, no matter which of the thirty-nine floors they were on. And although the exterior of the sleek stone-and-glass building was completed, the inside floors were nothing but open shells.

  Mindful of his schedule, he glanced at his watch, then steered her back toward the elevator. When the noise abated to the point he could speak without shouting to be heard, he said, “Sure. If you don’t mind riding down to the first floor with me. In half an hour I’m meeting a client there who wants to put in a clothing store.”

  “It shouldn’t take long,” she said. “I want your opinion on these contracts.”

  Which meant, Dan thought, there was something she didn’t like. And she wanted confirmation that she was right to feel concerned.

  Still, inserting himself in her business carried with it a certain risk. Dan followed her into the cage and pressed the buttons. He stayed in the center of the steel-mesh-enclosed cage. “What does your lawyer say?”

  Emily turned her glance from the exposed rails and gears of the lift. Looking as if she felt a little leery in the construction apparatus, she stepped toward the middle, a little closer to him. She braced herself as the elevator went down. “My lawyer said I’m lucky to be offered a partnership where I’m not expected to put up any cash at signing, that will allow me to live on the land rent- and utility-free as caretaker, and share equally in the profits.”

  The elevator stopped at one. Because Dan had a design consultation with the prospective owners, no building was currently going on. Grateful for the absence of construction noise, Dan stepped out onto the floor. He led the way down the long interior corridor to the back door of the proposed clothing shop. “And yet you have qualms.”

  Emily nodded. “Taking a job that offers fully paid health insurance and lodging but no guaranteed salary is a risk. I guess I didn’t realize how much of one until
I saw it all in writing.”

  Dan shut the door behind them. He watched Emily take off her yellow hard hat and set it down. “So,” he said, as he did the same with his, “if you have a good peach crop…”

  “And the retail and tearoom business takes off like Tex expects, then I’ll be sitting pretty by the end of the year, in terms of my half of the profits. I’ll have doubled or tripled what I could have made as a personal chef.”

  “But if you have a bad crop…” Dan opened the carrying case that held the preliminary plans for the clothing shop.

  “Which we both know could happen, given the highly unpredictable weather in the spring.” Her expression pensive, Emily watched him spread out the plans on the table that had been set up in the center of the space. “Then I’d have run through all the money I saved for the down payment on the orchard. And the retail business depends on us getting prime fruit to attract customers in the first place.”

  Dan set up his laptop computer, too. “What was the plan to compensate for a bad crop if you had purchased the orchard on your own?”

  Emily pulled out a folding chair and sat. “I figured I’d go back to restaurant work or hire out as a personal chef. Maybe even consult or give some cooking classes. Although there isn’t nearly the demand for those services in Fredericksburg as there is here in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.”

  Dan wanted Emily to be happy—and if returning to her hometown to rear her child was the only way for her to do that, he would support her. “You could still do that.”

  Emily drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “But I wouldn’t own the land. I wouldn’t feel as secure.” She opened her bag and pulled out the aforementioned contract. “The other thing that bothers me is the no-compete clause.” She turned to the paragraphs she’d flagged.

  Dan perused them with a critical eye. “Those are pretty standard.”

  Emily’s slender shoulders sagged. “That’s what my attorney said.”

  It was all Dan could do not to take her in his arms. “But?”

  Emily squared her shoulders and sat back. “To not be able to work or purchase an orchard of my own anywhere in the state of Texas for two years, should our partnership dissolve, seems a little risky, too. What if I turn out to have my dad’s ability to nurture an orchard and grow fruit? What if Tex and I just can’t get along?” She exhaled. “What if a smaller place with a lot of potential comes along, and I decide my baby and I would be better off there? I wouldn’t be able to act on it.”