AFTER A VERY SUCCESSFUL Friday night a week and a half later, Finn locked up. The only light still on, over the island, reflected in the gleaming surfaces. Sanitizer lingered in the air. A sparkling kitchen on the heels of a very busy night deeply gratified him.
He kicked off his clogs at the base of the stairs, ready for the next morning. He’d already tossed his jacket in the dirty linens basket. On the second floor, he paused outside his bedroom. Former bedroom.
Though the door was ajar, he knocked softly. “Amelia?”
He heard a faint sigh in the dim room. “I’m sorry. Amelia’s not available to take your call right now. She’s run off to a tropical paradise with Sven, the blond massage therapist. If you’ll leave a message, she’ll ignore it.”
Finn chuckled. “Okay, then I won’t bother. I stopped by to see if she needed anything before I hit the sack. Something to eat? Drink?”
She snorted. “If I drink now, I’ll have to pee before morning. Your sister already lectured me on getting up too many times. Threatened to bedpan me. Just what I need, to lose the remaining shred of my dignity. So thanks, but no thanks.”
A somber note of desperation, with a side order of hysteria, ran beneath the words. He stepped in as his eyes adjusted to the light. Or lack thereof.
The sliding glass door curtains were open. Outside, stars flickered over the lake.
He crossed the room toward the bed. She lay on the far side, closest to the deck. After moving her laptop, cell phone, the TV remote, a book and a magazine, Finn eased himself on top of the comforter, lying on his side, facing her. He dug his elbow into the mattress, leaned his ear in his palm. “So, how was your day?”
“Oh, my day was fabulous. I had luncheon with the girls at the club. Then we went to the spa. Sven, unable to resist, seduced me in the massage room. To top it off, I took a private jet to New York for dinner. I only got back a few minutes ago, and I’m exhausted.”
“Where’d you eat in the city? What did you eat?”
She finally turned her head in his direction. “That’s all you want to know about? What I ate?”
He grinned. “I am a chef. I’m wondering how I measure up to the competition.”
“But you don’t want to know how you measure up to Sven? I thought manhood came first, then occupation. I’m crushed that you’re not jealous. I mean, here I am, living in your house, carrying your baby, sleeping in your bed...”
The temperature in the room spiked.
She flipped her head to look out the doors again, cursing under her breath.
He struggled to wrestle his desire into submission. Off-limits.
“Let’s try that again,” she murmured. “My day was uneventful, as usual. How was yours?”
Bethany’s nagging voice rang in his head. If anyone could put a damper on his sexual urges, it was Dr. STD Lecture. “Busy. We did seventy-two covers tonight.”
“Covers?”
“Meals. Dinners?”
“Oh. That’s good. It sounded sort of busy down there.”
“You can hear it?”
She lifted one shoulder. “Mostly it’s low-level background noise. Although...every once in a while, I can hear you yelling at someone.”
His cheeks flushed. “Gotta keep them on their toes somehow.”
“I kind of like it. Makes me feel less isolated.”
He grinned. “Okay. I’ll make a note to yell more often, then. My staff might get annoyed, but hey, I’d like to make my houseguest comfortable.”
“I don’t think comfort is in my immediate future.” She shifted beneath the blanket. “The human body was not designed for this.”
“Having a baby?”
“Lying on your back twenty-three hours a day. I move as much as I can, but this...” She blew out a long breath. “This has gotten old already.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, right?”
“Right.” Raging hormone crisis—his, not hers—averted. On to the serious things they needed to cover. Like the visit from his lawyer sister. “Cathy gave me those medical forms for Jordan you signed today. The ones that grant me permission to approve treatment for her so I can take her to the hematologist Monday.” He’d tried to get Elke to do it. Or anybody else. But because Fresh was closed on Mondays, they’d all declined, leaving it to him. “They’ve got all her records now. And I have her insurance card.”
Amelia pressed her lips tightly together. “As long as you remember it’s temporary. It’s all temporary.”
“So you keep reminding me. I get it, Amelia. You’re not happy about needing my help. Can’t say that I blame you. But really, neither of us had many options, did we?”
She didn’t respond.
“Should I have said no to more sperm to save Jordan? Should I have let you spend the rest of your pregnancy in the hospital? Or some nursing facility? Let social services take custody of Jordan until you could get a friend from Maine to come fetch her? What kind of guy would I be if I’d done any of those things?”
“A typical one?”
The note of uncertainty in her normally confident tone pulled at him. “Maybe. Or maybe you just have crappy taste in men.” He skimmed his fingers along her arm. “Somebody’s obviously burned you. But it wasn’t me. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay for his mistakes. I’m not perfect.” He barked a wry laugh. “Ask my ex-wives. They’ll be happy to provide a list of my sins and shortcomings. But I refuse to be classified as evil scum just because I have a penis.”
“Ex-wives?” She emphasized the s. “How many?”
“Two.”
“Really? What happened?”
He’d failed, was what happened. Hadn’t lived up to their expectations. “My first wife didn’t appreciate the long days—and nights—I spent at the restaurants. She didn’t realize that being married to a chef is like being married to a doctor. Or a lawyer. She thought it was going to be one big dinner party.”
“And the second? Did she feel neglected by your work, too?”
He shook his head. “I made it clear before the wedding that I worked long hours and wouldn’t likely be home to share very many dinners with her.”
“So what happened?”
“Marianna decided, despite what we’d agreed on before getting married, that she wanted a baby. Right away. And she didn’t listen when I told her I wasn’t ready. I found out she’d stopped taking her birth control pills without telling me. A big fight and a load of tears later, she decided she wanted a baby more than she wanted to wait for me to be ready to be a dad.” That had stung. Far more than he’d ever admitted to anyone.
“And now?”
“Now what?”
“Are you ready to be a dad now?”
“Relax, Amelia. No. I’m not. Jordan is safe. I’m not going to ask for joint custody or anything.” Which had made the last week-and-a-half awkward. Every time Jordan looked at him with those hopeful eyes, he’d wanted to run the other way. Yeah, he made great father material.
“Did your ex-wife get her baby? Did she know about your sperm donation?”
No one had. Not even his brothers. Had Marianna known he had biological kids out in the world somewhere, but wasn’t willing to give her any, she’d have waffled between seriously pissed and crushed.
“You know...” He leaned toward Amelia, anxious to change the mood. “You’re awfully interested in my ex-wives for someone who doesn’t even like me.”
“I never said I didn’t like you.”
“So you do?”
“I didn’t say that, either.” The corners of her mouth twitched.
That was more like it. “Admit it.” He turned one of his slow, sexy grins loose. “You like me.”
“You’re...growing on me.”
“Ha. See? I knew it.”
“Like a fungus.” She laughed, the rich sound warming him.
He preferred her company a lot more when she was smiling, or laughing. Or... Okay, not going back there again. “Nice. You’ve been hanging out with Hayden too much.”
Hayden had willingly pitched in with both Amelia and Jordan, leaving Finn better able to run Fresh.
Of course, the whole family was helping out, just as Bethany had promised. Elke came to do nursing stuff, including assisting Amelia with her personal care. Bethany made house calls. Greg had been a lifeline for Finn’s questions, and had added Jordan to his art therapy group, despite being hip-deep in wedding preparations. Their mother had been to visit several times, bringing reading material to keep Amelia occupied.
Finn’s questions about Amelia’s family, whether she wanted her own mother to come and help, evoked the frosty assertion that her relationship with her mother worked best long distance only and generally was limited to phone calls several times a year when her mother needed money. And that Finn had now spent more time with Jordan in a week and a half than her grandmother had ever spent with her.
The reason for her stubborn independence became clear in that moment.
“So...seriously. How’s it going? The bed rest thing, I mean.”
“You want the truth?”
“Yeah. Always.”
“This is the hardest thing I’ve done in my life, Finn. Everyone’s been really helpful, even Jordan, but...” Amelia sighed. “Today she made me create a Facebook page. I now have a Facebook page, Finn.”
He tried not to laugh.
“I have five friends already, and they can read my wall when I post about...oh, I don’t know...the clouds floating by the window, or spilling water on myself for the umpteenth time.
“I want my life back. I want to wear real clothes. Or at least real maternity clothes. Nightshirts and muumuus and other non-binding-in-the-middle sacks do not an acceptable wardrobe make. I want to get back to work!”
“I’m sorry.” Unable to resist, he brushed the back of his finger over her cheek. “It’s got to be driving you crazy. But you’re doing really important work here. You’re growing a baby, Amelia. A human being. Think how extraordinary that is. And if that’s not enough, you’re saving Jordan’s life right now, too. I think that’s a pretty damn big, important job. I’m in awe of you.”
She cleared her throat, turning her head away from him. He withdrew his hand. She bit down on her lip.
“I’m serious. You’re an amazing woman.”
She looked at him again, scrunching her eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, smoothing the tension lines. Moving slightly lower, he planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. Then he hovered just over her mouth, feeling the warmth of her breath.
With every bit of tenderness he could muster, he feathered his mouth over hers. An amuse-bouche.
But she wasn’t nouvelle cuisine. No. As he indulged himself in one more kiss, he knew with a certainty.
Amelia was home-cooking.
Comfort food. Blue jeans and Sunday dinner.
Things he’d never really expected to find outside of his parents’ house.
But his mouth on hers felt more than a little comfortable. Not daring to take it any deeper, he pulled away. When her eyes fluttered open, there was bemusement in them.
He gave her a quick grin, then slid lower on the bed. “Good night, Chip,” he said to her belly. “Let your mother get some sleep, okay?” The wooden floor was cool beneath Finn’s feet as he padded from the room.
He paused in the doorway. “You’re growing on me, Amelia Young. And not like a fungus.”
And that scared the hell out of him. Falling for her wouldn’t just bring him the usual complications of a woman in his life.
She came with a lot more baggage.
One-point-five children, to be exact. Children who would expect things from him.
Playing at being a temporary daddy was one thing. Close enough to fantasy, not the ugly glare of reality.
Considering keeping them in his life...not possible. For either of them.
Damn it, he needed to keep more distance from her. Before somebody got hurt.
###
Amelia’s brain was stuck on one thing: last night, he’d kissed her.
Not like that first time. Not all-consuming. Not a prelude to seduction. Or at least, prelude to foreplay. Tender. Sweet.
And she’d thought of little else since.
Which was beyond stupid. Amelia Young didn’t moon over a man.
Scowling, she set her fingers back to the keyboard of the laptop she had positioned on the tilted desk made specifically for use on a bed. She’d found it on the Internet and it definitely made typing a lot easier.
Her article on bed rest and back pain, documenting the stretches and other techniques she’d come up with to help minimize the pain and impact of lying on her back all the time, just wasn’t working. She opened a new document.
“Mom, check this out!” Jordan, carrying her own laptop, rushed through the bedroom door, Hayden one step behind her.
Her daughter jumped onto the bed, turning the computer to face Amelia. “Look what Uncle Hayden did.”
All the Hawkins siblings had been granted aunt and uncle status. Finn’s parents had become Grandma Lydia and Papa Michael. But to Amelia’s relief, Jordan hadn’t bestowed any form of “dad” on Finn.
Like she knew his heart wasn’t in it.
Amelia’s daughter had good instincts.
On the screen, Finn diced vegetables at the workstation in the kitchen. The view came from higher up, and Amelia had an excellent view of the stoves and island—his two main work areas. Sound accompanied the video images, and she could now clearly hear him calling orders to his staff as they prepared for Saturday’s lunch customers.
“Okay. Why am I watching the kitchen?”
Hayden grinned. “Finn mentioned that you feel isolated up here. I thought giving you a window to the kitchen might help.”
“I see. And is your brother aware of this?”
The grin widened. “Sort of. He gave me permission to do it. He just doesn’t know yet that I did. I imagine when he does his closing inspection tonight he’ll find it. And then I plan to set up his laptop on the shelf there so that he can communicate back to you. But for now...”
“But for now, we’re spying on him!” Jordan giggled, gazing at Hayden with adoration.
Oh, hell. Maybe Jordan’s instincts weren’t as honed yet as Amelia thought. Hayden oozed charm from every pore—making him the least savory of men, from Amelia’s experience. The kind you really had to watch out for.
The toad-in-prince-clothing kind. The kind she’d once made the mistake of marrying, despite all the lessons about men she’d supposedly learned in her own childhood.
At least Finn didn’t hide his toadiness.
“If you let me borrow your computer for a few minutes, I’ll get it set up so you can tap into the camera.” Hayden held out his hand.
“Maybe you’ll pick up some cooking tips, Mom.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Amelia checked the clock. “Actually, our lunch should be here soon. Go wash up.”
“Okay.” Jordan headed for the en suite bathroom.
Amelia closed her documents and unplugged the laptop from the power cord, passing it to Hayden. “Thanks.”
He sat on the couch, tapping at the keyboard. By the time Jordan came back to the bed and snuggled up alongside her, he had it done. “You want me to go downstairs and bring your lunch up?”
Amelia pursed her lips, struggling to control a grin of her own. “Not yet.”
At that moment, Finn barked, “Jon, see who the hell is knocking on the back door.”
The lanky teenager scurried across the camera’s field. A minute later he reappeared, hesitantly approaching Finn with a brown bag in his hand.
“What, Jon?” Finn snapped.
“Uh, Chef. This was delivered for Amelia.” The kid set the bag on the edge of the island work space and quickly backed away. “I, uh, I’m going to go make sure we’ve got everything ready in the dining room.”
Hayden leaned over the bed for a better look.
Finn set down his knife and lifted the bottom of the white paper stapled to the bag. Then he cursed a blue streak, whipping out his cell phone.
Amelia reached for her phone before it even rang. “Hello?”
“What the hell is this? You ordered Chinese food delivered to my restaurant?”
Hayden snorted.
“I have all sorts of wonderful food down here, ready for you at a moment’s notice. I can even cook Chinese, if that’s what you want. Especially Beef and Broccoli. All you had to do was ask. And you order crap brought into my place.”
“Did you cash my room and board checks yet?” She’d given him the first check the day they’d brought her from the hospital. She’d given him another yesterday.
He paced the space between the stoves and the island. “Not yet. Haven’t had a chance.”
“Don’t give me that. You send someone to the bank every damn workday. Until you’re willing to let me pay my own way, then we’re not eating your food. I can’t do anything about living under your roof, but I can manage to get other food.”
“You don’t know the quality of the ingredients in this.” He slapped at the bag. “You don’t know if they dumped a load of MSG in here.”
“No MSG.”
“And you believed them? But how can you be sure?”
“I’m sending Jordan downstairs for the food. I’d appreciate some utensils.” She nudged Jordan until the girl slipped off the bed and hesitantly left the room.
“The hell you are.” Finn snapped his phone shut and crammed it into his pocket. Then he grabbed the bag and headed out of sight.
“What’s he up to?” Amelia asked.
Downstairs, a door slammed.
Hayden rounded the foot of the bed. He opened the sliding glass doors and went onto the deck, letting in the warm late-June air. He returned, shaking his head. “Your Chinese delivery just went into the Dumpster out back.”
“Unfreakin’ believable. That was mean.” She’d be deducting the cost of the meal from her next room and board check.
Hayden latched the glass doors. “Do you have any idea how deeply you just wounded him?”
“He wouldn’t take my money.”
“Another blow to a man’s ego. Look, Finn’s uncertain with all this. He’s doing what he can. And what he can do is cook. Feed you. And you just told him you prefer someone else’s food. For him, that’s like a lover telling him she’d prefer someone else in the sack. You just admitted you did it because he wouldn’t take your money. Not because you wanted the food, but because you wanted to teach him a lesson, right? So before you call him mean...” Hayden jerked the bedroom door closed behind him, leaving her alone.
Amelia sank back into her pillow. The kitchen cam showed Finn barking new orders at his staff, scowling as he worked. Until Jordan appeared. Then he pasted on a smile for her, ushering her to a stool at the end of the island so she could watch while he prepared several plates.
Amelia had to grudgingly admit he was trying.
Which meant no more take-out orders. She reached for her cell to mollify him.
###
Finn slammed pans on the stove a lot harder than he should have. But every time he turned to face Jordan, he didn’t let it show. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. She hadn’t ordered food from the dive down the street.
He wiped his hands on his apron. “So, Jordan, what can I get you for lunch? I’ve got your mom’s Beef and Broccoli just about ready, but can you think of something else she might like?”
“I’ll have some of the five cheese pastina.”
“You got it.” The upscale version of mac-and-cheese had been a big hit, not just with Jordan, but with most of his customers.
Jordan propped her chin in her hand. “I don’t know what Mom wants. Besides pumpkin pie.”
“Pumpkin pie? It’s not the right time of the year for pumpkin pie.”
Jordan shrugged. “I heard her mention it when she was on the phone to Sia this morning.”
Sia was Amelia’s best friend, who also managed her office. Amelia spent a lot of time on the phone with her, going over work details. Finn had overheard several conversations where his stuck-in-bed mom-to be lamented her situation.
After several near disasters, they’d discovered that finger foods worked best for a bedridden person. In a normal household, that would mean a lot of chicken tenders, French fries, and carrot and celery sticks for veggies. But when you had a personal chef to cook for you...
Too bad she didn’t appreciate his skills.
Hayden came from the back staircase, a large green duffel bag in his hand. He paused alongside Jordan. “You got things under control here? Keeping an eye on the chef to make sure he doesn’t burn anything?”
Jordan nodded. “What’s in the bag?”
“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“Uncle Hay-den! Come on.”
He leaned over, spoke in a stage whisper. “Can you keep a secret?”
Jordan nodded.
“You won’t blow my cover, right?”
“I promise.”
“I’m a superhero. My gear is in here.” He lifted the bag and drew back the zipper, exposing a flash of yellow spandex.
“Oh, puh-leeze. I heard all about Captain Chemo from Uncle Greg. That’s not a secret.”
Hayden clutched the bag to his chest, lower lip quivering. “Hopefully the kids at Cleveland Clinic, where the captain is due for an appearance this afternoon, will believe better than you do. Poor Captain Chemo. You’ve hurt his feelings.”
“He’ll get over it. Will you see any kids today who’ve had bone marrow transplants?”
Finn froze, pan in midair as he tossed the beef and broccoli.
Hayden lifted an eyebrow at him, but looked at Jordan as he answered. “The bone marrow transplant unit is harder to get into than Fort Knox. If any kids are almost ready to go home, we might see them. Why?”
Finn had read a bone marrow transplant handbook posted by the Portland hospital on their site. He hadn’t been in the loop during Ian’s illness, and wanted to understand just what Jordan would go through. Visitors were strictly limited in the early post-transplant days, and thorough precautions ensured the dangers of infection were kept in check as much as possible. The chemo before a BMT completely wiped out the immune system, and until the new bone marrow began to produce cells in great enough numbers, the recipient had no defense.
Jordan shrugged. “Just curious.”
“You know what? I think one of Greg’s kids who’s had a bone marrow transplant will be at the wedding. You could talk to him about it then if you want.”
Three weeks tomorrow, Finn’s brother, Greg, would shackle himself to Shannon. Hopefully they’d have better luck with marriage than he had. Especially since he really liked Shannon. The ceremony itself would take place behind Fresh, on the bluff overlooking the lake. Shannon wasn’t a church-wedding kind of girl.
Finn had offered to do the reception, but as with everything else, Shannon had her own ideas—ideas that left his mother and sisters shaking their heads. He was in the wedding party and she wanted him to have a good time, too.
Then there were her restrictions on clothes. Rented or secondhand only.
“There’s going to be a boy there who’s had a BMT?”
“I think so, yeah,” Hayden said. “A lot of Greg’s kids will be there.”
Jordan had met some of them earlier that morning, when she’d had her first session with his cancer kids art therapy group.
“Am I invited?”
Hayden shot Finn a look that said answer her.
Finn waved the pan in his hand, shaking his head.
Hayden glared at him. Then he put his finger under Jordan’s chin and lifted it. “What did I tell you the night we met about the one thing a Hawkins values above all else?”
“F-family.”
“That’s right.” His brother’s dark expression and pointed stare proved he was talking more to Finn than the kid. “So of course you’re invited. You and your mom are family. Right, Finn?”
“Absolutely.” His stomach tightened.
Ready or not, like it or not, they were family.
His family.
And he would do his best to live up to that responsibility.