Chapter Fourteen

Jack waited impatiently for Grace to open the door. The least she could’ve done was give him a key yesterday when she kicked him out. It was his apartment as much as it was hers. What the hell had he been thinking giving in to her asinine suggestion? He never should’ve left. As soon as she’d voiced the idea, he should’ve shot it down. But he’d been in shock, feeling guilty after revealing the extent of his relationship with Maria.

He hadn’t been the only one who’d been furious Grace had asked him to leave. Jill had been livid when he’d arrived at her door with his duffel bag in hand. He’d ended up on the defensive, protecting Grace from his sister’s anger. He made Jill think he was on board with it. She didn’t need another excuse to lay into his wife. It hadn’t been easy playing it cool, acting as if he wasn’t as pissed off with Grace as his sister was. The run he’d taken last night and again at dawn had helped deal with his anger. The frustration and, as much as it pained him to admit, hurt, weren’t so easy to get rid of.

Suck it up, Flaherty, and deal.

In the end, it was his fault it’d come down to this. He had to make it right. For now, he’d do as Grace asked. She wanted to start with a clean slate. All the better. She wanted to date. He could do that, too. How hard could it be to win back a woman who loved him, who’d never given up on him? Jack grinned as he thought of ways to “woo” his wife. Maybe he’d borrow that book from Nell after all.

He always felt better when he had a plan, a strategy to go into battle, even if this time the fight was to save his marriage. The heavy weight that had rested on his shoulders since yesterday lifted. He rapped on the door for the second time—just not as hard as a couple of minutes ago.

“Sorry,” said a breathless Grace as she opened the door, carrying a naked little Jack under her arm. “Your son decided he’s not wearing a diaper today and flushed it down the toilet before I could stop him.”

“How come he’s my son when he does something wrong?” Jack teased as he closed the door behind him. His humor faded when he took a closer look at Grace. There were shadows under her eyes, and her usual peaches-and-cream complexion was a pasty gray. She looked like she hadn’t slept. Jack could commiserate. He hadn’t slept much last night, either. “Here”—he held out his arms for his son—“we’ll take care of it for you.”

“Thanks, but I already did. I’ve gotten really good at fixing clogged toilets.” She glanced at her wet robe and gave him a tired smile. Little Jack squirmed in her arms, and she put him on the floor.

It shouldn’t bother Jack that she could handle things without him, but it did. And it bothered him that she hadn’t handed over his son like he’d asked. He didn’t say anything. Now wasn’t the time to be making waves.

“Stay…” Little Jack took off, and Grace released a weary sigh as his naked white body disappeared from view. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Muffins, too, if you’d like some,” she said and went to give chase.

“I’m not a guest, Grace. If I need something, I’ll get it.”

She turned, worrying the neckline of her robe between her fingers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” A crash from the back of the apartment cut her off.

Jack jogged past her. “I’ve got it. Get dressed. Interview’s in fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?”

He heard the squeak of panic in her voice and went to respond. Then he saw his son, sitting on the floor in his bedroom, shaking baby powder over himself. The kid must’ve climbed onto the table—the lamp was lying on the floor—to get the powder off the shelf. “Whoa, buddy, you’re in trouble now.”

“No, me…” His son started to choke. Jack opened his mouth to call for Grace, then shut it. What are you, a wuss? he asked himself. You can handle this. As soon as Jack took the container from him, the kid stopped choking and started screaming. Jack went to cover his son’s mouth with his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Grace called from their bedroom.

Jack handed him the baby powder. “Nothing.”

His son beamed up at him. Smart kid. Pretty damn cute, too, he thought with a grin. Five minutes later, Jack was rethinking the cute part. His son was a terror. He eyed Jack’s fingers as he fought with the tiny buttons on the short-sleeved plaid shirt he’d put him in. “Don’t bite me again or I’ll bite you back,” he warned his son.

“Jack,” Grace gasped as she entered the room.

“Thanks a lot, kid,” he muttered.

She took in the mess and came to kneel beside Jack on the floor. Nudging his fingers aside, she took over. “You weren’t really going to bite him, were you?”

“No, Grace, I wasn’t.” His irritation faded as he watched her with their son, as her warm body brushed against his, and he inhaled her floral scent. “But I might bite you. You smell good.”

She shook her head, but a small, encouraging smile played on her lips. “No fooling around. We don’t have time.”

“I’ll cancel the interview.”

“Honestly, Jack, you’re incorrigible.”

“No, just a guy who wants to spend some time with his wife.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I missed you last night.”

She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I missed you, too.”

Scowling at them, little Jack put his hands on his hips. “No kiss my mama.”

“Hey, she kissed me.”

Grace tugged little Jack into her arms and kissed his mouth, his nose, and his eyes. “Four kisses for you.” She turned to Jack and cupped his face between her soft hands. He was ready for her when she reached his mouth and gave her a kiss she wouldn’t soon forget. “And four kisses for daddy,” she said breathlessly.

Little Jack looked from his mother to his father, then picked up the empty powder container. “All gone.”

Jack smiled, inordinately pleased over the small victory. “I think we should try that again, just to be sure it worked.”

“I don’t think so.” Grace laughed. “Interview, remember?”

“It was worth a try.” He came to his feet and helped her up.

Gathering little Jack into her arms, Grace brushed off some leftover powder from his hair, then did the same for Jack. “Do you want to come to dinner tonight?”

“Hmm, dinner with you and little Jack or dinner with my sister? It’s a tough decision.”

She winced.

“I’m kidding. I have to work on the house on Sugar Plum Lane after the interview.” And wasn’t that going to be fun times. “I’ll be here around six, if that’s okay.”

“No, no, that’s good. It’s just when you mentioned Jill…” She shrugged, redoing the top button on little Jack’s shirt. “I imagine she’s pretty mad at me right now.”

“She’ll get over it.” He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall and placed his hand at the small of Grace’s back. “We better get going. The reporter will be arriving at the bakery any time now.”

She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. “Bakery? I thought you said the interview was here. I…” Her gaze flitted around the room.

“Didn’t Madison tell you?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I thought she did. She called last night to suggest we have the interview at the bakery. She thought it’d be good publicity.”

Madison had assured him Grace would be happy with the change of venue, so he agreed. But now that he took in the spotless apartment, a hint of lemon oil in the air, he realized his wife had probably spent hours making sure everything was perfect.

“You cleaned all night, didn’t you? And don’t try and deny it, you look exhausted.” The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back.

Her hand went to her cheek, and her gaze shot to his. “Do I look that bad?” Before he could respond, she passed him their son. “I’ll just be a minute. I’ll put on some blush, maybe some cover-up, too. I’ll never hear the end of it from my mother if I don’t,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, as she speed-walked to the bedroom.

By the time she’d fixed herself up and changed into the yellow dress she’d worn to his homecoming, a strand of pearls at her neck, they were ten minutes late. Grace locked the door, and Jack ushered his family down the stairs. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Grace turned to him.

“Jack?”

“Um-hmm,” he said, distracted by the number of white news vans parked outside the bakery. What the hell was going on? He’d agreed to do the interview with one reporter only.

“Jack.” She tugged on his arm to regain his attention and leaned into him. “No one knows we’re not living together, do they?”

“No.” And he planned to keep it that way. He made his sister promise to keep the news to herself. He didn’t want Maria to find out. If she did, he had a feeling she wouldn’t leave.

“Okay, that’s good.”

“Yeah, it is. Because, Mrs. Flaherty, I plan to be back home with you before the week is out. And you know I’m very good at getting what I want.”

He took comfort in the half smile she gave him. At least she didn’t say no.

As they walked into the bakery, which was jam-packed with customers, cameramen, and reporters, Grace groaned. Madison McBride stood beside a woman with long, curly butterscotch hair, who wore a pair of denim shorts, a “Save the Planet” T-shirt, and hiker boots. “Set up your cameras over here. You’ll get a great shot of the bakery that way,” Madison said, catching sight of Jack and Grace. She waved them over. “Here they are now.”

“I’m sorry, princess. I had no idea they were all going to be here.”

“I know you didn’t. I should have realized Madison wouldn’t be able to resist the free publicity.”

The woman in question overheard Grace and grinned. She walked toward them with her friend in tow. “Don’t be mad. I did it for you.” Madison gave Grace a one-armed hug, ignoring Jack, “Well, you and the bottom line. You remember my friend Skylar Davis, don’t you, Grace?”

“Of course I do.” She smiled and went to shake the woman’s hand but was pulled in for a hug instead.

When they finished, Jack introduced himself. Obviously Madison had been bad-mouthing him to Ms. Davis, because the woman greeted him with a cool nod.

Whatever.

Three reporters came forward and introduced themselves. John Ryan, the guy Jack had agreed to do the interview with, would take the lead. They sat at one of the tables. When his son started to squirm in Grace’s lap, Jack took out the small book he’d stuffed in his pocket and handed it to him. Grace rewarded him with a dimpled smile.

“Just a sec,” Madison said as a photographer went to take their picture. She came over and pinched Grace’s cheeks. “That’s better. You looked a little pale.”

Jack sighed, then whispered in his wife’s ear, “Don’t listen to her. You’re beautiful.”

The smile she gave him faltered as the bell tinkled over the door. Whatever color Madison had forced into Grace’s cheeks drained away. He followed her gaze. Several more people entered the bakery, his sister and Maria bringing up the rear.

*     *     *

Jack shot Grace a worried look. She tried to force her lips to curve. But they felt frozen, just like the rest of her face. Madison cleared her throat. Grace glanced her way, and Madison touched her neck. Oh. Grace released the stranglehold she had on her pearls and tried to focus on the reporter instead of Maria DeMarco. It was hard not to look at the gorgeous brunette wearing the white, body-hugging halter dress that skimmed the tops of her well-toned bronzed legs. Grace self-consciously smoothed her dress, trying not to compare herself to the other woman. It was too depressing. Especially given the intimate relationship she’d had with Jack.

Instead, Grace tried to focus on the reporter’s questions and her husband’s responses. Jack was good at this. He was intelligent and charming, deflecting Mr. Ryan easily when the reporter asked a couple of pointed questions about how they’d escaped their captors.

Maria hadn’t taken her eyes off Jack, not for a minute. Grace wished she could say the same for Jill. Her sister-in-law’s censorious stare was beginning to wear on Grace’s nerves. Her son would choose today of all days to be well behaved, she thought. It wasn’t like she could use him as an excuse to escape.

Jack laid his hand over hers. She glanced to where she’d unconsciously lined up the packets of sugar in the bowl. He laced his fingers through hers, then drew her hand to his thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. When one of the other reporters asked Jack how it felt to be home with his family, the cameras zoomed in on Grace and her son. It was then that Grace realized she and little Jack were only along for the photo op. That was fine by her. Normally she didn’t mind dealing with reporters. She’d handled the press for her father on many occasions. But with Jill and Maria looking on, she was just as happy to be ignored.

Grace glanced up at the sound of a derisive snort. Jill’s blue eyes flashed with temper as she stared Grace down. Maria patted her arm and whispered something in her ear.

“Grace, John asked you a question,” Jack said.

She drew her attention from the two women’s silent exchange. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem, Mrs. Flaherty. I asked how it felt to have your husband back.”

“It’s hard to describe how incredible it feels to have him home. It’s a miracle, really. Our prayers were answered.” She looked into Jack’s eyes and smiled. “I guess you could say it feels like Christmas.”

Jack squeezed her hand, then he tensed.

“Hello, Mr. Ryan.” Maria sauntered toward the table. “I’m Maria DeMarco, a reporter with the Washington Daily News. Would you mind if I asked the happy couple here a few questions?”

“We’ve had enough questions for today,” Jack said and pushed his chair back.

“Your wife has only answered one, Jack. Surely she can handle a couple more, can’t you, Mrs. Flaherty?”

Grace lifted her chin. “Certainly. Ask away.”

“Hey,” one of the other reporters said, “aren’t you the woman who was held captive with Chief Flaherty?”

She kept her challenging gaze locked on Grace when she spoke. “Yes, I am. Jack and I’ve been through a lot together.”

“If you’re willing, Ms. DeMarco, we’d like to ask you a few questions. Maybe get a couple of pictures of you and Chief Flaherty?”

“By all means. But I have to tell you, I’m saving most of the juicy details for my book.”

Grace pressed a hand to her stomach. Little Jack, as though sensing her distress, started to cry. Jack stood. “Come on. We’re done here.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Grace saw her sister-in-law reach for Maria. “No, Maria, don’t—” Jill began, but the woman ignored her, holding up a chocolate sugar plum.

“Mrs. Flaherty, I’ve heard all about your cakes since I’ve come to Christmas and how the wishes in a sugar plum like this one come true. I was told you made one for your husband’s birthday with your own wish in it, and moments later it was announced he’d been found. It’s almost like they’re magic.”

The saliva in Grace’s throat dried up. She couldn’t speak. Madison gave her a concerned look before saying, “That’s exactly how it happened. Grace’s cakes are magical. And very soon we’ll be introducing everyone to the reason for the magic… the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy.”

Maria arched a sardonic brow. “Really, how… interesting.” Returning her attention to Grace, she said, “Perhaps you can tell me, Mrs. Flaherty, if you wished for your husband to come home, why his wedding ring was in the chocolate sugar plum along with this note saying good-bye to him and a wish for you and your son’s future. One you planned to have without him.” Cameras flashed as she went to Jack and handed him the contents of the sugar plum. “I’m sorry, Jack. But your wife lied to you. She wasn’t waiting for you to come home. She’d given up on you a long time ago.”