The C.E.O. & the Cookie Queen

by Victoria Chancellor

  She, single mom, dutiful daughter and respected member of the community, was involved in a hot and heavy affair with a Chicago C.E.O. Who would have imagined such a thing?

  No one, she sincerely hoped. She was betting her reputation that her family, friends and neighbors didn’t have a clue what she and Greg did when they were alone together.

  She drove back to Ranger Springs while he told her stories about his brother and sister. Brad, it seemed, had joined the family business because it was expected and because he didn’t have any other great calling. At least, none he’d shared with Greg. Stephanie loved the business almost as much as Greg, but she didn’t like the operations aspect. She liked to crunch numbers and talk to bankers. Greg swore she was some kind of math whiz.

  Carole couldn’t identify with either of his siblings. She struggled to balance her checkbook, but did it promptly each month. She also couldn’t imagine not having direction in life. A fast-growing child gave her life plenty of purpose and an equal amount of joy.

  “I miss my baby,” Carole said wistfully as they turned onto the rural road that led past the downtown area, out toward their respective houses.

  “You mean the almost-young lady who left for camp this morning, or the baby she once was?”

  Carole smiled, but she wasn’t sure if Greg could see her in the dim lights of the dashboard. “Actually, I miss both of them. But I was talking about Jenny as she is now. No matter how old she is, she’s still my baby.”

  “But you have to admit that I managed to keep your mind off her most of the day.”

  Carole laughed. “Yes, you did. And I suppose all your hard work was strictly for that reason.”

  “Well…maybe not strictly.”

  She heard the humor in his voice, but also the warmth. Sparing a glance at the stop sign, Carole immediately noticed that he looked darned sexy. His hair was finger combed, his shirt adorably wrinkled. The image of him lying in the rumbled bed, naked and sated, popped into her head.

  “Carole?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why don’t you invite me home with you.”

  “You mean to spend the night?”

  “I’d like that very much. How do you feel about sleeping together?”

  “Technically, we already slept together.”

  “Yes, we did. I’m talking about making love, sleeping all night in the same bed and waking up together.”

  She took a deep breath and continued on down the road. Toward her house. Since Greg’s car was at his house, no one would know that they’d driven home together. That he’d become her lover. She didn’t like the idea of sneaking around but didn’t have a choice. Her mother, sisters and friends might not like the idea of her sleeping with someone she’d known only a week.

  However, she liked the idea a lot. Perhaps the wild teenager still lurked inside, ready for an excuse to run free. “I think I can handle that.”

  “If you can’t, let me know. I want you to know, though, that I’d like very much to hold you tonight.”

  She nodded, not sure if he could see the gesture in the darkness. “You’re not just saying that so I won’t be alone, are you?”

  “Did I seem like I was being charitable this afternoon? I don’t think so. I want you. You want me. And yes, I don’t want you to be all by yourself if you’re going to think about how lonely you feel. I want to fill that void.”

  “For now. While Jenny is gone.”

  He let out a sigh. “Let’s take this one day at a time.”

  “Of course. I knew that, and I didn’t mean to imply anything else. I’m just…well, like I said before, I’m kind of new at this ‘affair’ thing.”

  “I know. I understand. But I want to make every minute count. And I want to wake up with you in the morning.”

  She remembered how safe and desired she’d felt, held tightly in his arms. Even without the great sex, the feeling was wonderful. Greg had understood her better than she’d understood herself as he’d eased her into making love. How many other men would have taken the time to talk to her, sense her hesitation and work with her fears? Not many, she’d bet. Greg was special in more ways than one.

  “I want that, too,” she finally said.

  She seemed to feel his smile of satisfaction as the truck’s headlights cut through the darkness. With luck, they’d make it back to her house without encountering any friends or neighbors who would discover what the formerly celibate mom was doing with the Yankee businessman.

  GREG AWOKE SLOWLY to the bright light of morning and the feel of Carole’s naked back and bottom nestled against his side. He smiled to himself, remembering how she’d led him to her bedroom. They’d undressed each other this time, taking time for hot kisses and even hotter explorations as each inch of skin was uncovered.

  Carole might be a novice in the bedroom, but she was a fast learner. That must be why he felt this tenderness toward her. He’d been her first lover in ten years. She’d been as nervous as a virgin yesterday afternoon and he’d felt a responsibility to initiate her slowly and carefully.

  Last night she’d taken his breath away with her exploration of his body. Especially certain parts of his body, he thought with a grin.

  She stirred in her sleep, pulling the pillow down to wrap her arms around it. He eased up on one elbow and watched her settle back into sleep. Her dark brown lashes rested just above her pink flushed cheeks, lightly freckled by the Texas sun. Her lips appeared slightly swollen from his kisses, but he didn’t feel any guilt. She’d enjoyed everything they’d done.

  His smile faded as he realized how innocent and young Carole appeared as she lay in her queen-size bed on her pastel yellow sheets. She wasn’t a sophisticated or demanding lover—the type he normally encountered. She’d approached passion with guarded enthusiasm. He could tell, without her voicing a word, that she would have liked to try even more variations on their lovemaking. She would like to be more bold. That she was unsure of her skill or his reaction made him feel even more tenderness.

  But he didn’t want to feel such delicate emotions. He wanted to enjoy her, make sure she enjoyed him, and move on when their time ran out. Which would be soon. He still had hopes of making her see how perfect she’d be for Huntington Foods.

  Just as perfect as she’d been last night.

  He eased back onto the bed, frowning at the ceiling. She wasn’t perfect for him. They lived in two different worlds, had vastly different goals and different personalities. Carole was cautious, upfront and nurturing. He believed in charging ahead, carrying his cards close to his vest and doing what was best for both him and his company. She had a ten-year-old child; he’d never even thought about having children. She was from a small, close-knit town, while he’d grown up in one of the largest cities in the country where a person could walk around all day and never see anyone they knew.

  No, he and Carole weren’t alike. They weren’t a volatile mixture like some couples he knew, but they weren’t the completely compatible ideal that he’d sometimes seen. She was smart to realize all they could have together was an affair; for that, Greg was grateful. He just wished he could stay equally focused on his goals and his need to get back to Chicago as soon as possible to finalize the new ad campaign.

  If he could convince Carole to be a part of Huntington’s new image, so much the better. If not, he would remember her fondly.

  He scooted away from her warmth and sat on the side of the bed for a few moments getting his bearings. Outside, he heard the faint but unmistakable sound of an unhappy steer. The thought of that big furry baby wanting his breakfast made Greg smile. He would feed Puff, allowing Carole more sleep, then come back in and make coffee.

  After breakfast he had to get back to his real life, since the weekend, if not his working vacation, was over. He needed to call Stewart Allen, who might have news from the investigation into Carole’s personal life. While looking into her background made him feel underhanded and invasive, he had to do it for the sake of his company. />
  If Carole was hiding a dark secret, something more than an “unfortunate incident,” he needed to know before he asked her once more to become Huntington’s spokesperson. If she wasn’t, then no harm done. At least, as long as she didn’t find out. He didn’t want her to think of him as the kind of man who would both seduce her and investigate her.

  He hadn’t seduced her, he told himself. The sex had been mutual and the background check was just standard business procedure. He’d do the same for any potential employee who would represent Huntington Foods.

  Pushing aside thoughts of his confusing personal relationship with Carole, he made himself focus once more on business. The advertising department might have some mock-ups on the ad campaign they’d discussed last week—the one that wouldn’t yet feature a new spokesperson. And he needed to get current numbers on sales to see how much revenue Brad’s impulsive behavior had cost the company this month.

  Slipping out of bed, Greg padded softly toward the bathroom. With one last look at Carole, sound asleep in her bed, he grabbed his discarded clothes. He had chores to do and a company to run—not necessarily in that order.

  WHEN CAROLE WALKED barefoot into the kitchen, Greg was sipping a cup of coffee while talking on his cell phone. He didn’t notice her at first, concentrating on listening to whoever was on the line while staring out the back window. She paused in the doorway and watched him for a moment, memorizing his profile in the midmorning sunlight, noticing the golden highlights in his hair.

  Her attention drawn to his hand, she remembered how he’d stroked and molded and inflamed her body last night. She became a different woman when they were together, alone. For years she’d tempered her reactions, controlled her emotions and done her best to set a good example. With a stroke of his hand or a kiss from his lips, Greg changed her into someone else. Someone she didn’t know. Someone who scared her senseless.

  He’ll be gone soon, she told herself again and again. He’s not a forever kind of guy, and besides, you wouldn’t want him to be. You have a life. You have a daughter. You can’t continue the affair, no matter how much you want him.

  “That’s all you could discover?” He frowned as he moved the cell phone from his right to his left ear. “Okay. Get back to me if you find out anything else.”

  His voice jolted her out of her daze and propelled her forward. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully as she headed for the coffee.

  He seemed distracted for a moment as he flipped his cell phone closed, then smiled. “Good morning. I fed Puff and made coffee.” On the surface he seemed fine, but she detected some tension in his smile and posture. Business problems, no doubt.

  “Thanks. I didn’t mean to oversleep.”

  “I take full credit for exhausting you last night.” He rose from the chair and walked toward her just as she reached for a mug. Her heart raced and she hoped her hands weren’t trembling so much she couldn’t pour a jolt of caffeine.

  “In that case, you should be even more exhausted,” she said with as much flippancy as possible, given the unique situation of finding a sexy man in her kitchen after a night of incredible sex. “I remember you participating, don’t I?”

  He settled behind her, one arm around her waist, and kissed her neck. “If you don’t, I wasn’t doing a good job.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you did a really good job.” As a matter of fact, if she were paying for sex, she’d give him a big raise.

  “You know what they say,” he said, nuzzling aside her hair so he could nip just at the point where her neck joined her shoulder. “Nice work if you can get it.”

  The sensation was heavenly, awakening parts of her body the caffeine had yet to reach. Parts of her body that didn’t need to be awake right now, when they both had other things to do. Besides, she didn’t want to get accustomed to his touch, his kisses, when they had only days together.

  “Thank you very much,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Just remember I’m a temporary employer.”

  His lips stopped caressing her neck; his body moved ever so slightly away. She thought she felt him stiffen, but she wasn’t sure. And she wasn’t going to ask. She had to keep this light. Otherwise, she’d lose it right here in her kitchen.

  “Speaking of jobs, I have to go back to the house and get some work done. I have some reports being faxed to me this morning.”

  Carole turned around and forced a smile. “I understand. I have a few things to do as well.”

  He appeared more serious than before. A little more intense. “Will I see you later?”

  She took a sip of coffee, almost burning her tongue. “Do you want to?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Why don’t you come over for dinner later? Around six o’clock.”

  “Are you sure? We could go out.”

  “Not without eating fast food or pizza in town, where we’ll be set upon by everyone I know, or driving to Wimberley or San Marcus. Bretford House is closed on Mondays.”

  “Then dinner here sounds great. Can I bring anything?”

  More condoms, Carole felt like adding. “No. If I need anything, I’ll go by the grocery. I have to go to town later today.” She was way behind on her baking. Customers at the café wouldn’t have any coffee cake tomorrow morning or dessert after lunch today if she didn’t get busy.

  Greg leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. “Later, then.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Thanks again for taking care of Puff.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you at six.”

  GREG SETTLED back in the chair in his makeshift office and reread the report faxed by Stewart Allen. Vital statistics on Carole Lynn Jacks. Born February 3 in the Hays County Regional Hospital to parents living in Ranger Springs, Texas. Married Johnny Ray French in Arkadelphia, Arkansas and gave birth to Jennifer Lynn Jacks—not French—nine months later.

  Jennifer would be eleven next month. Greg started to think about what he could get her for her birthday, but then forced his attention back to the report. He might not have a relationship with Carole or Jennifer next month.

  The marriage had been annulled not even two months after she’d married the guy. Carole had been seventeen, Johnny Ray French, nineteen.

  Geez, they were just kids. He counted on his fingers from the date of the wedding to the date of Jennifer’s birth. Almost nine months exactly. It appeared she’d fallen for the guy, run off to Arkansas to get married, immediately got pregnant, then returned home to Ranger Springs. To her family. To have her baby.

  This Johnny Ray French must be a first-class bastard, Greg thought, his hands tightening on the report. First he takes a minor across state lines, marries her so she’ll have sex with him, then leaves her when she gets pregnant because he didn’t protect her. What a jerk. Carole was better off without him. No question. Jennifer, too. She didn’t need a father like that. She needed…

  Well, she didn’t appear to need anyone. She was bright and well adjusted, polite and clever in all the ways a child should be. She didn’t seem to be suffering from not having a father in her life.

  Not that he was an expert on children…

  Carole was younger than he and already had a ten-year old. How had she managed so well? Did she even get to finish high school? There was nothing in the report about education, so he suspected she hadn’t gone to college. How could she have, raising a child with the help of her family? Her mother certainly wasn’t wealthy if she still worked as a waitress at the Four Square Café. And Carole’s older sister, while recently married to a prince, had gone to college part-time while working to help support the family, according to the folks he’d talked to in Ranger Springs.

  He tried to keep his emotions out of this evaluation of facts, but couldn’t ignore both the sympathy and admiration for Carole. She’d overcome tremendous odds and succeeded despite making a poor choice to marry at age seventeen. Or maybe it wasn’t her choice. Maybe this Johnny Ray Jerk had forced himself on her and she’d insist
ed they marry.

  Greg’s tightly fisted hand crumpled the paper as he imagined Carole, alone and afraid as a teenager, either in love with or forced into intimacy by a slightly older boy. Miles away from the family and community she was so close to.

  He tried to shake off the image by remembering what she’d told him. Some kind of documentary she’d been in. He’d get Stewart’s investigator on that right away. He wanted to know what had been filmed or said about her. And while the P.I. was looking more closely into the past, perhaps he could find out where Carole’s ex-husband lived now. Was he still a struggling musician?

  If he could figure out why she was so publicity shy, maybe he could still convince her to work for Huntington. She had so much potential that was wasted in this small town.

  And he had only six more days. The board of directors had called a meeting for Monday at one o’clock in the afternoon at Huntington headquarters in Chicago to discuss only one issue: the corporate image problem.

  It was time to put up or shut up, as his grandfather used to say. Greg sincerely hoped he’d be able to introduce Carole Lynn Jacks, aka Ms. Carole, single mother and cookie queen extraordinaire, as their new spokesperson.

  AFTER A DINNER of pork chops, mashed potatoes and green beans, Greg declined chocolate cake and, over her protests, carried her into the bedroom for what he called his own personal dessert.

  Carole had anticipated the moment when they’d be together with such sharp longing that from time to time during the day, she’d stopped and closed her eyes. Greg’s face, intense with passion as he moved inside her, made her stomach clench and her breasts tighten. She’d thought the days of foolish wishes and uncontrollable lust were behind her, but apparently not. Not since she’d known Greg.

  Their lovemaking was slow and deliberate. She no longer needed reassurance that she was desirable or capable in the bedroom. He told her those things, and more, with each caress, each whispered encouragement and sensual groan.