His Secret Starlight Baby

by Michelle Major

  She pulled her hand out of the stream of water and flipped off the faucet. “Honestly, I lost track of time. It’s so stupid. I knew I needed to watch the oven and should have set a timer on my phone.” She glanced up at him and grabbed a dish towel from the counter. “He rolled from back to front for the first time. I got distracted.”

  “It’s okay, Cory.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Moms aren’t supposed to get distracted. Babies get hurt. Houses burn down.” She broke off and looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

  “Cory.”

  Could he tell this was more than what had happened here this afternoon? She’d wanted this night to prove something, but not like this.

  “I wanted to make a good impression on your mom,” she said with a soft laugh. “She must think I’m crazy, or at least incompetent.”

  “Mom will understand. Accidents happen.”

  She started to bend down again, but Jordan stopped her. “Let’s get ointment for your burn. I can handle the cleanup later, and we’ll take Mom into town for dinner. She’ll like that.”

  “I hate having you clean up my mess,” Cory murmured. “I want to take care of myself.”

  “You do.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at how you took care of Ben when he needed you most. I’m still amazed that you managed to handle his surgery and recovery on your own after just giving birth. You’re stronger than I could ever imagine.”

  “You haul kegs around and manage partiers for a living,” she reminded him, appreciating his words even if they didn’t exactly ring true. She’d only done what any parent would have in the situation. “I bet you could bench-press me.”

  He flashed a wide grin, stealing her breath in the best way possible. Jordan smiled but not often with this wide, disarming openness. “I could totally bench-press you.”

  The thought of his hands on her in that way did funny things to her insides. “I’m going to check on your mom and Ben,” she said. She looked around him with a frown. “You can leave the kitchen, and I’ll clean it later.”

  “I have aloe in the medicine cabinet under the master bath sink. Take care of your hand and Ben. I’ll handle the kitchen, and then we can head out for dinner. We’ll make it some place quick and casual, so Ben doesn’t get bored.”

  She bit down on her lower lip, suddenly shy. “I moved my things into the master since your mom is here now.”

  “That’s fine,” Jordan said, massaging a hand over the back of his neck. “All part of the plan.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed on a puff of nervous breath.

  “Nothing has to happen,” he told her. “You made it clear this is just for pretend. Nothing about you and Ben being here is real.”

  She’d made that clear to him? Good to know, because her mind and heart were a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions. “I appreciate your help with the kitchen.” She nodded. That felt like a safe enough conversation. “That’s real.”

  “Okay, then. I should get to it.”

  Something flashed in his eyes that looked like disappointment. She wasn’t the only one who’d agreed to this fake arrangement. Jordan had given her no indication he wanted more.

  Unless you counted sex, but Cory didn’t. In her experience, men were much better than women at separating physical from emotional intimacy.

  She thought about the way he’d held on to her wrist under the faucet, like she was precious to him. Did that count as intimacy? It had certainly felt that way to her.

  Unwilling to push him for clarification, she turned and headed toward the bedroom. If he wanted something more from her, he’d tell her. And why would he? Yes, they had Ben in common, but otherwise there was nothing special about her.

  She had no career, no college degree and no friends or family looking out for her. She had an old car that probably should be traded in before it conked out completely, all of her worldly possessions fit into a couple of suitcases, and if she lowered her pants, she’d see the iridescent stretch marks that had erupted across her skin during her final trimester of pregnancy, along with the C-section scar.

  Oh yes. She was quite the catch.

  Plus, she’d burned dinner and practically set his kitchen on fire. First thing tomorrow, she was texting Madison, Tessa and Ella and insisting on another meeting, this one focusing on kitchen basics.

  Ella might want to impress a man with a few delectable recipes, but Cory would be happy if she could put an edible dinner on the table without incident. Baby steps, she told herself, then channeled her inner Gran. She could figure this out, she reminded herself. If only she knew how.

  Chapter Twelve

  “You almost burned down his kitchen? That’s hilarious,” Ella told Cory the following week as the four unlikely friends met in the small kitchen in Tessa’s cabin.

  “It’s pathetic,” Madison said with a sniff. She wore skintight black jeans and a fitted T-shirt fashionably ripped at the collar, looking every inch the force of nature Cory knew her to be. “If you’re forgetful, set a timer.”

  “I meant to.” Cory covered her face with her hands. “I forgot.”

  Tessa patted her shoulder. “It sounds like Jordan was there to save the day.”

  “I don’t want him to save the day,” Cory argued. “I want to be able to save myself. I spent too long feeling indebted to Kade, not to mention all those times growing up when my mom reminded me how choosing to bring me into the world was the beginning of the end as far as her life was concerned.”

  “A real peach, your mom,” Ella said with a grimace.

  “She did her best.”

  Tessa leaned closer. “Sometimes even a person’s best can hurt.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Ella agreed, then turned to Cory. “How is it with Jordan’s mom?”

  “I like her.” Cory smiled. “She’s sweet. There’s a lot of unspoken tension between the two of them, though. He had problems with his dad growing up, and it seems like that resulted in problems with his mom.”

  “Families are complicated,” Ella murmured.

  Madison sniffed. “Families are a pain in the butt. Let’s talk food. That’s less nauseating. You need to understand some basic techniques that will allow you to make a variety of dishes.”

  “You also need to learn how to set a timer,” Ella told Cory. “That’s kind of cooking 101.”

  “I realize that.” Cory shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Once Jordan’s mom leaves, it will just be Ben and—” She broke off, remembering that Madison was the only one who knew the truth of her arrangement.

  Tessa frowned at her. “Ben will be eating solid food soon enough, and you’ll want to cook for Jordan. Or with Jordan.”

  “Food is love, they say.” Ella grimaced. “I don’t, actually, and I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but it’s a good line.”

  “It’s a ridiculous line,” Madison said, pointing a wooden spoon in Ella’s direction. “The food itself doesn’t have anything to do with love. It’s what goes into the preparation that counts. When you put your heart and soul into something as essential as feeding another person, that’s a fundamental gift. You’re giving part of yourself to someone else.”

  Cory glanced around to find the other two women staring at Madison with the same shocked look that Cory knew was reflected on her face.

  “There you have it,” Ella said softly. “She’s got a heart after all.”

  Color crept into Madison’s cheeks. “Of course I do. I just don’t wear it on my sleeve the way some of you do.” Her gaze caught on Ella’s. “And I would never cook for a man who didn’t deserve the passion I put into my food.”

  “Speaking of that...” Cory sat forward on the bar stool where she was perched, happy to distract herself with something other than her own issues for a few minutes. “How did it go with your big date?”
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  Ella concentrated for a few seconds on tracing a drop of condensation down her water glass before offering a fake smile. “Turns out Toby came to town to ask me in person...”

  “Ask you to be his girlfriend?” Tessa clasped her hands together.

  “To ask me to be his best man—or woman, in this case. He’s getting married to his high school sweetheart. They had been corresponding while he was traveling with the agency.” She blew out a harsh laugh. “While he was there with me.”

  “Do you know laxatives can be put into food without anyone knowing?” Madison asked without missing a beat.

  Ella’s brows furrowed. “Are you suggesting I poison him?”

  “Just enough to have him hugging the porcelain throne for a couple of days.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Tessa agreed. “Sends the right message.”

  “You all are demented,” Ella told them, but she said it with an authentic grin. “I appreciate demented right now. If I can’t be happy like Cory with her cute baby and hot bartender, then I might as well turn myself into some sort of supervillain.”

  Cory drew in a breath but kept her features neutral, refusing to meet Madison’s assessing stare across the kitchen. She knew the other woman wouldn’t discuss the truth of Cory’s situation without her permission. And there was no way Cory could tell the other women the truth. She had too much at stake.

  The real truth was she felt happy. Because of Kathy’s presence in the house, Jordan and Cory were playing the roles of loving couple without question. Cory liked the pretend arrangement far more than she should.

  As she watched Madison demonstrate a few basic cooking techniques, from making a roux to frying an egg, and explain how to use specific kitchen appliances, Cory realized that for the first time in forever, she felt normal. It was easy to forget her entire life was a sham and simply revel in the good moments. And there were so many of those.

  In the past few days, she and Jordan had fallen into a routine. The mornings started with Jordan up early to make coffee and cut up fresh fruit before Ben woke. The baby would begin to gurgle, and either Cory or Jordan brought him out from the nursery. The three of them had breakfast in the sun-drenched kitchen with the scent of the surrounding pine forest coming in through the windows Jordan liked to crack open.

  Jordan’s mom usually joined them about a half hour later, and Ben absolutely adored his grandmother. It made Cory’s heart soften with memories of her own relationship with her grandma at the same time her gut clenched thinking about how her son would never have that special bond with her mother.

  They spent time hiking in the woods or checking out antiques stores around the area or browsing the wares of local artists at the Dennison Mill shopping area. On the days Jordan went to work, Cory kept his mom company. She was quickly coming to love his mother and the way she took pleasure in every activity—whether a walk around the property or a trip to town for groceries.

  Kathy was a kindred spirit of sorts. The woman never spoke badly about her late husband, but Cory definitely got the impression that Jordan’s father had been a harsh taskmaster and a bullish sort of man. It was obvious that Kathy regretted the distant relationship she had with her older son, and although Jordan was kind and courteous to his mom, the emotional gap between them remained.

  Cory wanted to help them grow closer, both for Ben and for Jordan’s sake. Especially because she knew she’d be relying on Kathy to help Jordan with parenting once he and Cory ended their arrangement.

  It was going to break his mom’s heart, and Cory felt like the worst sort of heel for agreeing to the whole fake-relationship farce in the first place.

  “I’m not sure you have the market cornered on supervillain,” she told Ella without humor.

  “Trouble in paradise?” the other woman asked, looking confused. “I thought things were going great between you and Jordan.”

  “They are,” Cory quickly amended. “For now, anyway. I’m sure it’s just a phase.”

  Madison barked out a laugh.

  “I should go,” Cory said as emotion clogged her throat. “Kathy and I are driving over to that paint-your-own-pottery place in Claremont this afternoon. I want to get Ben’s food and clothes ready before we leave.”

  “I’ll walk out with you.” Today’s lesson finished, Madison gathered the measuring cups and utensils she’d brought for a sort of cooking-club show-and-tell into a canvas bag.

  “No need.”

  “I have to get to the bar anyway.” The chef wiggled her eyebrows. “We’re serving eggplant lasagna for the special. The lumberjack-type guys who live around here act like they hate it, but there’s a wait for a table every time it’s on the menu.”

  “Thanks for hosting the kitchen basics lesson,” Cory told Tessa. She should really be thanking her new friend for giving her a place to go for a group therapy session.

  “My pleasure.” Tessa nodded. “You’re my first houseguests.”

  “The decor is very you.” Madison’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she glanced around at the mounted animal heads hanging from the walls.

  “My uncle was a hunter.” Tessa cringed. “I haven’t had the heart to take them down yet. They sort of keep me company.”

  “Don’t say that.” Ella made a face. “It makes you sound kind of odd.”

  “She is odd,” Madison muttered. “You all are.”

  Instead of arguing, the three of them laughed. “Hey, Pot, this is Kettle calling,” Cory said over her shoulder as she reached the front door. “Face it, Chef Fancy-Pants. You’re as strange as the rest of us.”

  The other woman snorted as she followed Cory into the early-spring sunshine. Today was almost balmy, and Cory couldn’t help but compare it to the constant gray of Michigan at this time of year. Once again she appreciated the surroundings, from the blue sky overhead to the fresh evergreens scenting the air. How would her life have looked if she’d taken a different path? Would she have found her way to this sort of charming setting on her own? As a kid, she’d kept scrapbooks filled with photos cut from the travel magazines her grandmother subscribed to that displayed beautiful scenes of exotic locales and destinations closer to home.

  Cory had been fascinated by every spread on the national parks and other nature escapes, so to be living in this beautiful, rustic town made her feel like she was in a dream come true.

  Other than the fact that it was all based on a lie.

  “You’re falling for him,” Madison said, bumping Cory’s shoulder. “You want it to be real.”

  “No,” Cory lied without hesitation. “I know it’s temporary and not real.”

  “You’re playing house and you like it.”

  “Stop being mean.” Cory crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”

  “Since when?”

  Cory had reached her car, and she turned to face the chef. “Why do you push us away?” she demanded. “It’s not as if you have people coming out of the woodwork to wax poetic about your amazing personality. You know you were on the verge of being fired, right?”

  “Jordan isn’t going to fire me. My food brings in customers.”

  “The rest of the staff can’t stand you. Every one of them warned me not to work with you, that you’d suck my soul from me and serve it as a daily special.” Cory squeezed her hands into tight fists. “I defended you. Maybe I was wrong.”

  “I don’t need you to defend me.” Madison’s voice was a reedy line of indignation. “I don’t need anyone. If everyone at Trophy Room is so bothered by my presence, maybe I’ll put them out of their misery and quit.” She leaned closer. “Because I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted or where I have to pretend to be something I’m not. I don’t lie.”

  Cory felt the words like a blow, but she wasn’t in the mood to back down. She’d done that too many times in her life
before now, and it had gotten her nowhere she wanted to be.

  “You’re lying right now,” she said, proud her voice remained steady. “You say you don’t need anyone, but that’s not true. You like us, and you like that we like you, even if you won’t admit it. No one serves the kind of food you do without putting their heart into it. You said so yourself. We’ve already determined you have a heart, one that I’d guess was treated poorly by someone.”

  Madison looked away, blinking rapidly.

  “Maybe we can both be honest, at least with each other. Yeah, I like Jordan. I wish I didn’t. It would be easier for both of us. I’m an emotional train wreck, and I need to focus on getting myself together before I worry about being in a relationship.” She blew out a breath and pointed a finger at the chef. “You want people to like you for more than just your food.”

  “Not true,” Madison argued, then shook her head. “Okay, maybe true. But it’s also easier if I don’t care what people think of me. Things are easier with no expectations. I have a tendency to hurt people who care about me.”

  “You don’t have to,” Cory told her gently.

  “You don’t have to work out your relationship issues with Jordan.”

  Cory laughed at the shocking truth of the words. “That’s a good point.”

  “You’re too nice,” Madison muttered.

  “Probably,” Cory admitted. “But I’m learning to like myself. And this is just the start of who I’m going to be.”

  * * *

  The satisfying sound of logs splitting broke the quiet silence of the morning. A cold front had moved in a day earlier, bringing frigid temperatures and a layer of frost across the ground. Still, sweat dripped between Jordan’s shoulder blades as he swung the ax in a familiar rhythm.

  The hills around Starlight stayed cool enough most nights that he could have a fire well into late spring, but at this rate he’d have enough firewood to last a couple of years.

  Physical exertion seemed like the only thing that calmed him. There weren’t many moments when he missed his time on the gridiron, but this was one of them. He would have liked a productive outlet for the frustration and confusion pounding through him.