Babycakes

by Donna Kauffman

  He wanted her so badly it made his teeth ache.

  The song ended as she laid the hammer down. He was just about to speak when she turned and spied him from the corner of her eye. Startled, she banged her elbow against the shelves and backed into the can of paint behind her.

  He sprang forward and grabbed her arms before she could trip over the can and paint tray beside it, pulling her toward him. They stumbled, and he banged up against a framed-out counter, still holding her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “You scared the life out of—”

  They started to speak at the same time . . . and stopped at the same time, as their gazes got all caught up in each other.

  “Hi.” He smiled into her dazzling green eyes.

  “Hey.” She smiled self-consciously. “How, um, how long were you standing there?”

  “Long enough to say with some authority that you’ve got much better rhythm than I do.”

  Pink stole into her cheeks, and warmed every part of him.

  He reached up and gently peeled off a splatter of paint from her chin. “You look good in”—he glanced down at the can of paint, but it was too splattered to read—“whatever color this is.”

  “Sunlight cream,” she supplied.

  “That, too,” he said, looking back at her, liking that neither of them had made any move to disentangle themselves from one another. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but—”

  “I was going to call you. At some point today.”

  “Well, before you say anything, I need to tell you that I just got done visiting with Birdie.”

  “You spoke to Birdie, about—”

  “She invited me for tea and a chat.”

  “Oh. Wait, where is Lilly?” Kit started to pull away, as if suddenly realizing Lilly might be standing somewhere right behind him.

  He held on to her, just firmly enough to keep her right where she was. “She’s with Dre and Gabe at the center, writing an ode to her newest, bestest friend.”

  Kit smiled. “Donatello.”

  “The Adventures of Donatello and Paddlefoot, I believe.”

  Kit’s expression softened. “That’s really incredibly sweet.”

  “Yeah.” As are you, he wanted to say. It would be so easy to dip his head, kiss her hello. Kiss her a whole lot of things.

  Her gaze followed his thoughts and drifted to his mouth.

  He was already tilting down to take a taste, when the buzz saw stopped abruptly, and they were jerked back to the moment at hand.

  Kit gripped his arm to lever herself away without upsetting the paint tray and can, and Morgan straightened and moved off a respectable distance in case whoever was working out back happened to come through the screen door.

  “So, what has you stopping by?” she asked a bit too brightly, her gaze darting to the screen door.

  Morgan didn’t take her sudden shift personally. He understood, but wished it didn’t have to be that way. “Alva invited Birdie to your Thanksgiving feast, and she’s extended the invite to me and Lilly.”

  “Ah. Oh.” Kit focused her attention back on him.

  “Yeah. So, I came straight here, because . . . well, to talk to you about it.”

  “If Birdie has asked and you think Lilly would like to—” She stopped and started over. “I mean, please, don’t not go because of . . . you know.”

  “This past week has been a real change for Lilly. She’s settling in, feeling more comfortable now that she knows people. I’m hoping to figure out a way for her to meet some other kids, though I guess that will happen once I get her in school. I think she’d really enjoy spending the day with everyone. But I don’t want to make things uncomfortable. They’re your friends, it’s your holiday, too, and—”

  “And we’re adults,” she finished. “We can make it work. I’ve thought about yesterday—a lot—and, you know, it was a pretty big day, quite emotional, seeing those poor turtles, and . . . I think we just got caught up in that and let our attraction balloon a little out of control.”

  Morgan hadn’t been sure what her choice was going to be, but he hadn’t expected her to dodge what had happened. “Is that how you really see it?” he asked, not exactly angry, but certainly a little offended. “Just a momentary slip in decorum? Weren’t you the one who questioned our ability to pretend it was just that?”

  She ducked her chin. “Morgan . . .”

  “I like that you’re a straight shooter, Kit. It’s one of the things I find really attractive about you. So . . . don’t insult us both by ducking now.”

  She looked at him. “I was just trying to make it easier.”

  “On?”

  “Lilly. Me. I don’t know.”

  He wanted—badly—to step over and fold her right back in his arms again. That was honesty, and there would be no ducking it. But she’d clearly made up her mind about him—them—and he’d have to find a way to respect her decision. “If keeping our hands off one another is something you’d like to be a permanent thing, then that’s what we’ll do. As you said, we are adults. We live on a small island and have mutual acquaintances, friends, so we might as well figure it out sooner than later. For everyone’s sake.”

  “You’re upset—”

  “I’m disappointed. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. I know it’s complicated. I know we’re both at crazy big changing points in our lives, and yet . . . here you are. And here I am. I like us together. I gave it a lot of thought . . . yesterday, last night, all day today. Hell, I can’t stop thinking about it. I know I come as part of a package deal, and I would never willingly put Lilly in a situation with someone who didn’t—”

  “I love Lilly,” Kit said. “It’s not that. Not from my standpoint, but what about her standpoint? She’s been through a lot. So have you. My life is upside down. It just seems like a big risk, trying to make all those things work in tandem. What if they don’t? I mean, are any of us ready to deal with that right now if—”

  “When are we ever ready to deal with hard things?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to be irresponsible, just because my hormones have decided to go into a frenzy.”

  He smiled then, despite his heart feeling like it was teetering on the edge of a huge precipice. “I rather liked your frenzied hormones. My hormones certainly did.”

  She smiled too, despite the emotions still charging the air between them. “That’s just it. We can’t let our hormones do all the talking. We have to be smart, make wise choices. It’s not just me, or you, it’s—”

  He crossed the space between them and stopped in front of her, gently taking one of her hands in his, drawing it up between them. “Is that all that’s holding you back? Fear of the fallout if we don’t continue to want this?”

  “Fallout for everyone. It’s such a small place, and everyone is so intimate here. It’s not like Atlanta, where if I stop seeing someone we go on about our business, likely never to cross paths again. My friends move on and his friends move on. Here . . . my God, everyone would have their nose in, and no one would forget, and”—she looked at him—“it would be hard. Really, really hard. I know it’s never a good time for hard stuff, but some times are worse than others. We’ve both had a whole lot of hard recently. And Lilly has had the hardest of all. I could never forgive myself if I did anything to add to that. She doesn’t deserve more tough stuff.”

  “And you’re so certain that’s what it would be?” He squeezed her hand when she ducked her chin. “Kit,” he said, and she looked back at him. “Have you thought at all about what it could be? I know thinking about the worst-case scenario is a good starting point when figuring out what move to make . . . or not to make. But have you thought what the best-case scenario would be? Yes, there’s risk here, but . . . don’t you have to at least consider if the possible outcome might warrant taking that risk?”

  She smiled then, surprising him.

  “What?”

  “You sound like a lawyer.”

 
He smiled then, too, even as he sighed. “I’m not trying to sound clinical—”

  “I know, Morgan. Maybe I haven’t thought enough about how good it might be. I’ve spent the past year putting all my hopes and dreams into one big basket, only to lose them all. I don’t know if I have the strength to do that again and risk failing. I’ve already stepped out on a ledge somewhat, professionally, by tackling Babycakes. Honestly? I don’t know if I can handle more, now. Good or not so good.”

  Morgan ducked his chin, wishing the clutch in his chest wasn’t telling him what he already knew. “Okay,” he said at length and looked at her again. “Okay. Thank you for being honest and not just brushing it off. Because it wasn’t casual, not for me.” He lifted their joined hands and kissed her paint-splattered knuckles before letting her hand go. “If it was just frenzied hormones, this wouldn’t feel so . . . well, feel like it does. But I respect your choice and promise I’ll step back.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, and he couldn’t shake the feeling he was making a mistake. Maybe the biggest one he’d ever made. But he could decide things only for himself; he didn’t get to decide things for her.

  “About the dinner,” he began. “Maybe it would be better if Lilly and I begged off. Give this more than a day or two to settle out. We’ll have plenty of time with Birdie, with everyone—”

  “No,” she said instantly, with feeling. “That’s not fair. I know you wish my answer to this—to you—was different. But, despite what I said yesterday, I think we can certainly handle ourselves. I know it’s just a few days from now, but given what we’ve said here, can’t we . . . I mean, surely we can just—”

  “Handle it?” he asked. “Yes. We can. Be friends? I’d like to think we’d have that, if nothing else. Lilly cares for you, and we’ll spend time together at the center, so . . . yes. I’d be glad we have that much.”

  “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I would be, too. Thank you. For understanding.”

  “Always.” He stepped back. “I, uh, I’m just going to talk to Lilly, then, and make sure she’s up for it. Then I’ll let Birdie know.”

  “Good. If Lilly wants to come, then just be there. We’ll be fine. Right?” She smiled, a hopeful curve of the lips, but the doubt and uncertainty were still clear in her eyes.

  “Sure. Of course.”

  “Good. Okay.”

  He held her gaze for another timeless moment, telling himself that walking away from her shouldn’t feel so monumental. Except it did, right to the core. He turned and made his way back to the door leading to the front of the shop, and had just scooted around the ladder when she called out to him.

  “Morgan?”

  He looked back at her, raising a brow in question.

  “I’m sorry,” She stood among the tarp, paint, and construction mess, looking a bit lost, a little uncertain . . . and a whole lot like the woman he was already falling in love with. “Really sorry.”

  “I’m really sorry, too.” He headed outside while he still could.

  Chapter 16

  “This sweet potato casserole needs a little time in the oven.” Alva handed the glass-covered dish to Kit as she entered the house.

  And wow, what a house. Kit had spent the first thirty minutes after she’d arrived wandering around Quinn and Riley’s beachfront cottage. It wasn’t so much the size—it wasn’t much bigger than many of the beach road cottages—but it had been beautifully decorated and styled, which she discovered was how Riley had originally staged it when she’d first met Quinn.

  Kit wound her way into the kitchen and popped Alva’s casserole dish next to her own pie pans, which held Mamie Sue’s famous peanut pie, homemade by Kit in Lani’s shop kitchen the night before. She’d worried making the pies might make her feel too melancholy, but it had been healing, redemptive. It had made her feel closer to her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother than she had in a very long year.

  She’d done a lot of thinking the past few days, mostly because of Morgan, but regardless of the reason, it had been time well spent. She was still climbing out from under the oppressive burden of failure, but while rolling out piecrust she’d forced her thoughts on the now. What was done couldn’t be undone, and she tried to imagine what her mother and grandmother would say about how she was moving forward and the choices she was making. Would they be proud? Would they think she’d done the right thing about Morgan and Lilly?

  “Here, dear, let me help you with that.” Birdie moved some of the pans and trays on the cluttered counter to make more room. “My, those look quite yummy. She pointed to the pies. “Yours?”

  Kit nodded, smiling. “ “And this is Alva’s casserole. She’s . . . wandered off somewhere.”

  “I’ll go track her down shortly, before she gets into any trouble.”

  Kit laughed. “Good luck with that. I understand she has a betting pool as to which of the men will carve the turkey.”

  “So, I’ve heard.” Birdie’s eyes twinkled. “I have ten on that delicious drink of water, Quinn.” She leaned in closer. “But then, I’ve always been partial to the tall ones.”

  Kit would have said all the men were quite tall, but from Birdie’s statuesque standpoint, she could see why the spunky older woman had chosen him. Kit hadn’t met Birdie until that morning, but she’d liked her immediately. A little younger than Alva, their friendship went back quite a ways. Birdie had already regaled them with stories of some of their escapades that had Kit’s sides still aching from laughter an hour later. She imagined more laughter would ensue, now that the dangerous duo were together in the same room. The odd couple appearance of Birdie’s gangly height paired with Alva’s tiny stature, and Birdie’s more bohemian style of dress, with her loose slacks and vividly printed caftans contrasting Alva’s tidy suits and pearls, brought a smile to her face.

  “Who did you put your money on?” Birdie asked.

  Before Kit could respond, there was another knock at the front door and she tensed, but it was, unmistakably, Franco. She smiled and relaxed again, thinking an already entertaining day was about to get even more so, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d been waiting to hear another voice. Morgan had left a message with Dre and Lani that he and Lilly were planning to attend. Kit was sincerely happy about that. She wanted Lilly to have a good holiday, and though the lively group might be a bit overwhelming, they could always steer her to a quieter part of the house to draw pictures.

  “Bon soir, mes amies!” Franco announced from the doorway, holding aloft several insulated packs containing more food. “My, my, are we an attractive group, or what?” He bent down to kiss Alva on the cheek, then bussed Lani and Riley as well. “And who is this tall drink of loveliness?” he said, walking over to Birdie.

  Birdie’s blush didn’t surprise Kit one bit, as she’d long since figured out no one was immune to Franco’s charms.

  Birdie introduced herself as Franco bent low over her hand, then kissed the back of it. “Good friend of Alva—”

  “And grandmama to the delightful Miss Lilly.” He straightened and smiled, even though Birdie’s smile faltered a bit. It was obvious she was more than a little nervous about the impending reunion. “A special pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He gave her a little wink. “So glad that you could join us.”

  “I am, too,” she said, seeming to relax once again. She glanced at Kit and wiggled her eyebrows. “I may have to change my bet,” she whispered, making Kit laugh.

  “Another of Alva’s pools?” Franco questioned. “No, no, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I lost twenty dollars last time around. So, has ma ravissante fille arrived?”

  “Not yet,” Birdie told him. “Here, why don’t we make room for your packages.” She turned to the counter, but it was jammed full.

  “Now, now,” Franco said, “you go have yourself a drink, sit down, and enjoy. I’ll take over here. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m just not sure where we still have room.“ />
  “Birdie, don’t even try,” Kit informed her, with a fast smile at Franco. “He’s incorrigible and unstoppable.”

  “So, I hear,” Birdie said, with another little wiggle of the eyebrows, which made Kit and Franco laugh.

  “Come on,” Kit said, grinning as she slid her arm through Birdie’s. “Let’s go out on the back deck. I hear Quinn set up an outdoor bar. I’ll pour.”

  “It’s not even ten in the morning, dear.”

  “Mulled cider is on the menu, and mint iced tea since it’s going to be quite balmy out today.”

  “Sounds lovely. I can’t believe the weather we’re having,” Birdie said as they stepped out onto the wide deck. “I saw that it might get up to eighty.”

  Baxter and Quinn were behind the bar, prompting Kit to think that had to be some kind of crime against nature, to have so much male beauty in one place. Add Franco’s swarthy good looks to Baxter’s hot blondness and Quinn’s smooth Southern charm, and it really was an embarrassment of eye candy. All of it unavailable, of course, but considering she’d just turned down the most eligible bachelor on Sugarberry, she could hardly complain. Besides, looking but not touching was pretty much all she could handle at the moment.

  And yet, as she and Birdie settled in comfy chairs by the pool, she was glancing back at the house every other minute . . . and it wasn’t to catch a glimpse of Franco or the hot already-spoken-fors.

  “I thought Miss Riley had a dog, a rather large one, I’m told,” Birdie said as they sipped.

  “She does,” Kit replied. “He’s a mastiff, but I understand he’s just a big sweetie. Riley has him down on her houseboat for the day. She didn’t want him getting in the way and was afraid he might scare Lilly.” Privately, though Kit hadn’t met Brutus, she’d bet Lilly would have loved him just because he was kind of an oddball. But, better safe, and all that.