Expecting a Fortune, page 12
She would be a while. The teen took forever to get ready in the morning.
He poured himself a mug of coffee, sat down, and started reviewing the Chatelaine Daily News online edition on his phone. It had gone live earlier that morning.
Carly trudged in wearing jeans and a pink sweatshirt. She’d pulled her damp curly hair into a ponytail, fully revealing her face.
Unable to gauge her mood, he fortified himself with a sip of coffee before dealing with whatever state of mind she was in right then. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” She dropped into a chair at the table.
“Do you want toast?”
“No, thank you.” Carly poured herself a bowl of cereal.
He switched from the online paper to his email. The first correspondence wasn’t good news. A lead he’d been following on the whereabouts of Gwenyth and Renee Wells hadn’t panned out. He wrote a thank-you response to the sender.
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry for being mean to Bea,” Carly whispered.
Devin looked into her eyes. She meant it. “I appreciate the apology.”
Carly toyed with the cereal floating in a bowl of milk. “I guess I should apologize to her, too.”
“Yes, you should.”
“I could go with you to work this morning and do it,” she said.
“You’re not missing school.”
She offered up an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just trying to do things you and Mom raised me to do.”
And she was trying to bargain like he’d done with his dad when he’d been her age. Carly was definitely his child.
Devin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Nice try, Half Pint. Eat your cereal. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
* * *
Later that afternoon at the newspaper office, Devin multitasked at his desk, eating lunch and squeezing in a minute to work on his proposed schedule and co-parenting plan the mediator had suggested.
Carly staying with him this week was actually a bonus in helping him visualize his role as the primary parent. His days would definitely be busier, but he could handle the changes. And Carly was old enough to take on a few more responsibilities—making her own breakfast, helping to keep the house tidy and learning to do the laundry, too.
His thoughts drifted back to that morning. He was glad that Carly had said she was sorry and wanted to apologize to Bea. That type of maturity showed she was growing up.
And it was a step in the right direction. If Carly and Bea could spend time together, he just knew they’d get along. Bea was fun-loving and patient, but she could also offer a firm guiding hand if needed. She doubted her ability to become a parent, but she was more equipped than she realized.
A few minutes later, Francis paced and sniffed in front of the closed door, signaling it was time for a break.
Done with his sandwich, Devin clipped the leash onto the dog’s collar, grabbed a waste bag from a stash in the desk, and headed out from the office.
Late in the afternoon, only a few pedestrians were out, and an occasional car came by as he walked Francis to an open lot with a few bushes.
The Cowgirl Café was just down the street. A couple of staff members were being dropped off for work. He’d texted Bea that morning, checking on her before he’d gone to the office. But a message wasn’t the same as hearing her voice.
As he waited for Francis to mark his territory, he phoned Bea.
She answered on the third ring. “Hey, Devin.”
“Hey.” Holding on to the leash, he followed the pup to the next bush he was curious about. “Francis and I are taking a short walk. Can you join us?”
“I really wish I could, but I have to finish taking inventory before we open. But I can pop out for a minute and say hi. Where are you?”
“Just down the street.”
“Can you meet me in the parking lot near the side door in about ten minutes?”
He reached the café with time to spare. Francis alternated between sitting and walking near him. Most likely the dog was fidgeting around because he could sense his human’s mood.
Devin crouched down and petted Francis. “It’s okay. I’m just excited to see my girl.”
My girl... As he thought about those last two words, contentment and happiness filled him. He couldn’t help but smile. And as Francis wagged his tail, he seemed to be smiling with him.
Bea came out of the restaurant carrying two white paper bags. She held them up. “This one is for Francis. And this one is yours.”
“That sounds confusing. Maybe this will help clear it up.” Devin swooped in for a kiss.
As they started to ease apart, Bea’s lips curved into a smile under his. “I hope it does. Otherwise you’ll be eating leftover steak, and Francis will be enjoying your tartlets.”
“I like tartlets, but I like the third option even more.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and went back in for a longer kiss.
Francis threatening to lasso them with the leash brought it to an end.
Devin disentangled them.
“I should go back to work.” Bea held out the bags.
He accepted them. “Before I forget, Carly wants to apologize to you for her behavior last night.”
“Does she want to apologize, or did you tell her to?”
“She wants to.” Bea’s skeptical expression prompted him to say more. “The only thing I mentioned to her last night was how disappointed I was in her behavior. She knows better. This morning at breakfast, she apologized to me and said she wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay—if that’s what she wants. I’ll be free around eight tonight if she wants to call me.”
He smiled at her. “I’ll let her know.”
As he took a step forward, the side door opened. A couple of the café’s staff members came out for a break.
Reading Bea’s body language, he took a step back. It wasn’t about them hiding that they were together—she was the boss and wanted to keep certain boundaries in place. He could respect that.
“Thanks for the treats. Especially that third one.”
She laughed. “You’re more than welcome.”
* * *
Later that night, standing in the kitchen, Devin ate the last of the half dozen tartlets.
He and Carly had practically inhaled them after dinner.
Her animated voice floated in from the open sliding door. She was on the deck, talking with Bea over the phone. They’d been on the call a good fifteen minutes. The apology Carly was delivering must have been a huge one.
But the fact that it was taking so long was a positive thing, right?
The sliding door closed.
Carly breezed into the kitchen. “Bea wants to talk to you.” She gave him his phone, then went back out through the other archway.
From her face, he couldn’t gauge if Bea wanting to talk to him was a good or bad sign. Glancing at the screen, he was caught off guard to see Bea’s image. From the background, she was in her office.
He hadn’t realized it was a video call. “Hello.”
“Hi.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, we need to talk about something.”
“Uh-oh, what happened?”
“Nothing bad.” She laughed. “I’ve never heard you so serious.”
“Well, Carly didn’t give me a heads-up about how your talk went, so I’m not sure what to expect.”
“It’s all good. Or at least I think it is. Carly really liked the tartlets I gave you, and she wants me to help her make some for the bake sale. I wanted to check in with you first.”
Devin leaned back against the counter. “I don’t mind, as long as she’s not infringing on your time. Did she tell you the bake sale is Saturday?”
“Yes, we can make them Friday afternoon. Carly said school is out an hour early for some reason?”
Was that this Friday? Damn. He’d thought it was next week. A sinkhole had opened up in a neighborhood the next town over, and he’d arranged to interview some of the residents.
“Yeah,” he answered. “What time do you want to come by?”
“I was hoping Carly could come to my place. I’m not working on Friday. I’ll already be at home. It would easier to do it there versus bringing everything to your house.”
“That works.” Devin calculated times in his mind. He could drop off Carly, go do the interviews, and be back around the time they were done. “Are you sure she doesn’t need to bring anything? I’m happy to pick up the ingredients you need.”
“No, that’s fine.” Bea met his gaze. She looked tired and pretty at the same time.
“Did you eat anything besides just tasting the entrees?”
“Yes. I had an entire chicken pot pie for dinner and a salad.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He wished he could go see her, but it was getting late, and he couldn’t leave Carly. “Francis really enjoyed his treat.”
“I’m glad. And what about his foster guardian? Did he enjoy his?”
“Too much.” Devin patted his stomach. “It’s a good thing Francis is here to help me get some exercise.”
“So I guess that means you won’t be stopping by tomorrow for another bag of treats.”
A grin broke through with his chuckle. “No, I will absolutely stop by, especially if more kisses are involved.”
“I think that can be arranged.” Bea’s soft smile intensified his anticipation.
It grew so strong, in fact, that when he met Bea the next afternoon, he couldn’t wait. As soon as she reached him, he took her in his arms.
When she met him halfway for the promised kiss, his heart leaped.
They eased back, and a soft smile even more beautiful than the one on her face last night lit up her eyes.
Taking it slow was impossible—he was already falling for her.
Chapter Sixteen
Bea double-checked the bowls, utensils, and ingredients. The binder with her mom’s recipes was also on the kitchen counter.
It was almost three o’clock. Carly would be arriving soon.
As the minutes ticked by, a sense of restless anxiety hit, and Bea resisted making sure everything was in place one more time. She and Carly were just making tartlets together. Why was she so darn nervous? Like first day of school, wondering if she could make friends nervous. But that was a weird take on the situation. Carly was thirteen, and she was a grown woman.
Still, she couldn’t deny that she wanted Carly to see her as...what? She wasn’t on the verge of becoming Carly’s stepmom. She was just Devin’s new girlfriend. And she would be the mother of Carly’s half brother or sister. Whether or not she and the teen had a connection beyond that was yet to be seen.
Bea paced away from the counter. It would be so helpful to talk to Esme right now. But the newlyweds were on a warm, tropical beach enjoying time as a family. She wasn’t going to interrupt them with her fears or her problems.
The doorbell rang, and she went to the door.
Devin and Carly stood outside. The teen had a backpack slung over her shoulder and held a bouquet of flowers in her hands.
“Come in.” Bea waved them inside.
“These are for you.” Carly offered her the bouquet of hydrangeas, roses, and lilies. “They’re from Dad.
“No, they’re from both of us,” he interjected. “As a thank-you for your time.”
“They’re gorgeous and much appreciated.” As she lifted the fragrant bouquet to her nose, her gaze landed on his mouth, and memories of kissing him yesterday afternoon flashed through her mind.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Carly asked.
Bea gave herself a mental shake and pointed. “Sure. It’s down the hall, first door on the right.”
The teenager dropped her backpack onto the floor, and as she hurried off, Bea turned toward the kitchen. “I better put these in a vase.”
Before she’d taken a step, Devin looped an arm around her waist and brought her back toward him.
Just like yesterday, she met him for a kiss. This time, they didn’t hold back. The slow drift and glide as he explored her mouth raised a moan out of her.
Bea laid a hand on his chest and nudged him back a little. “Carly...
“She took her phone with her,” he murmured against her lips. “She’ll be in there at least another couple of minutes. I have something important to ask you.”
“What?” she asked breathlessly.
“Lauren’s coming back early from her trip. She’s picking up Carly later tonight. You could pack a bag and spend the night with me.”
Sweet temptation curled inside of her. She wanted to...but what about them taking it slow? “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s fair.”
But the kiss he followed up with wasn’t. It conveyed what would happen if she threw caution to the wind.
Caught in the spin of ever-deepening desire, she grasped a hold of the front of his shirt.
They really had to stop. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on baking—all she would think about was him. Reluctantly, she slipped out of his arms.
Carly opened the bathroom door and came down the hallway. As she picked up her backpack, she gave them a curious look that paused on Bea. “What happened to the flowers?”
Bea glanced at the semi-squashed bouquet and the petals on the floor. “Oh...”
“She dropped them.” Devin cleared his throat. “I should get going. I don’t want to miss the press conference.”
“Press conference?” Bea asked.
“Another sink hole opened up a few miles north of Chatelaine. The folks in that area are up in arms, and the county officials are making a statement. I won’t be gone long. Just a couple of hours or so.”
Carly snorted in disbelief.
“Hey.” Devin playfully shot his daughter an admonishing look. “Behave. And do what Bea tells you. And make sure you save a few tartlets for me—I have to make sure they’re fit for consumption.”
“Whatever, Dad.” Carly gave a small eye roll as she hugged him.
Bea walked him to the door. Before he stepped out, he gave her a wink. “See you later.”
“Bye.” Her heart was still fluttering in her chest as she and Carly went to the kitchen.
Fortunately, most of the flowers had survived being squashed, and they brightened the nook in the kitchen.
Moments later, she and Carly were both wearing yellow aprons and had pulled back their hair.
Bea pointed to a bowl of apples. “We’re making apple tartlets like we talked about, but I made some peach filling earlier today in case you wanted a variety.”
“That sounds good.” Carly picked up an apple. “So we’re peeling them?”
“Yes, but we’re making the dough for the tartlet crust first. It has to chill for at least an hour before we bake them. I hope we can get everything done before your dad gets back.”
“We will. When dad’s working on something for the paper, he’s never on time. Mom says she always has to add an hour or more to when Dad says he’s coming back. He gets distracted and forgets what he’s supposed to do. We’re used to it.”
“Oh? That’s...interesting.” Was that really true?
Since she’d known Devin, he’d only been late once—the day they’d gone to pick up Francis. Maybe Carly was just parroting something Lauren had said a time or two.
Bea showed Carly how to make the dough for the crust. She was a natural at it.
Next they peeled the apples. Once Bea had demonstrated how to safely use the knife, she allowed the teen to help cut the fruit.
The chop of the knives against their cutting boards filled the silence.
Carly dropped diced apples into the bowl sitting between them on the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
She hesitated an instant, then blurted out, “Are you and the baby going to live with my dad?”
Bea carefully finished dicing an apple. It was best to be honest, right? “Your father and I haven’t decided on that.”
Carly toyed with the peeled apple on her board but didn’t cut it. “There’s only two bedrooms—mine and dad’s.” A hint of color flushed in the girl’s light brown cheeks. “His office was a bedroom...”
Bea put down her knife and turned her full attention to Carly. “No matter what we decide, you’ll always have your room. No one’s going to take that from you.”
Carly gave her a quick smile and shrug. “I was just wondering.”
Bea wanted to reach out and reassure the teen with a hug or pat on the shoulder, but they weren’t at that stage yet.
What Carly had just asked was on the parenting questionnaire. Devin said they had time, but there were so many unanswered questions...including if his daughter was going to be living with him full-time. Should they wait on making any plans until after he and Lauren worked things out? Or should she and the baby be part of the conversation now?
A little over a couple of hours later, the finished tartlets were lined up on the counter.
They tasted them, and Carly’s face lit up. “These are sooo good. Everyone’s going to want one.” Her smile faded a little. “Oh no—I messed up. I should have made a video or taken pictures of me making them.”
“We still can. We have extra dough and filling. We just have to stage it a little.”
They set up the prep area on the counter. While Carly made tartlet shells, Bea shot video clips and took candid photos. Like her dad, Carly had a good sense of humor, and it shined through.
In the midst of taking close-ups, strands of Carly’s dark brown hair fell over one of her eyes. Flour was covering her hands, so she tried to blow her hair out of her face. She laughed. “It won’t move.”
