Single Mum Seeking...: A Daddy for Her Sons / Marriage for Her Baby / Single Mom Seeks...

“Wow,” he said. “Jill, you are something else.”

She sighed. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I’m glad I did. I’ve got more faith in you than ever.”

She laughed. “I’ve got to get back to work.” She frowned. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I’m not going to go while you still need me.”

“What makes you think I need you?” Turning, she headed into the kitchen.

“So,” he said tentatively, following her. “Now your number one assistant has bailed on you. And your sister has bailed on you.” He shrugged. “Who you gonna call? You need someone else. Who can come to your rescue?”

She met his gaze. “There’s nobody. Really. I’ve tried to find backup before. There’s really nobody. This island is too small. There aren’t enough people to draw on.”

He nodded. “That’s what I thought.” He picked up an apron someone had thrown on the chair and began to tie it on himself. “Okay. Tell me what to do.”

Her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

His face was so earnest, she felt her breath catch in her throat. He really meant it.

“How can I help you, Jill? What can I do?”

This was so sweet of him, but it couldn’t work. He didn’t have the skills, the background. And anyway, he wasn’t here for her. He was here for Brad. There was no denying it.

“Just stay out of the way.” She shrugged helplessly. He shouldn’t be here at all. Why was he? “Go back to your hotel. You don’t belong here.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Connor!”

He shook his head again. “You’re like a fish flopping around on the pier, gasping for breath. You need help, lady. And I’m going to give it to you.”

She shook her own head in disbelief. “You can’t cook.”

“The hell I can’t.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I don’t believe it.”

He stepped closer, towering over her and staring down with cool deliberation. “There are a whole lot of things about me you just don’t have a clue about, Miss Know-it-all.”

She shook her head, still wary. “Look, just because you can fry up a mean omelet after midnight for your Saturday night date doesn’t mean you can cook. And it certainly doesn’t mean you can bake.”

“I’m not proposing to be your baker. You’ve got that slot nailed. I’m signing on as an assistant. I’m ready to assist you in any way I can.”

He meant it. She could see the resolve in his eyes. But how could he possibly be a help rather than a hindrance? There was no way he could get up to speed in time. Still, she was in an awful bind here.

“So you can cook?” she asked him skeptically.

“Yes.”

“There’s a difference between cooking and baking.”

“I know that.” He shook his head impatiently. “Jill, you’re the baker. But you need a support staff and I’m going to be it.”

“But...what are you planning to do?”

“Prep pans, wash pans, drizzle on glaze, pack product for delivery, deliver product, go for supplies, answer the phones...”

She was beginning to smile. Maybe she was being foolish, but she didn’t have much choice, did she? “And the most important thing?” she coached.

He thought for a moment, then realized what she was talking about.

“Keep an eye on the boys,” he said and was rewarded with a quick smile. “You got it. In fact, I’ll do anything and everything in order to leave you room to practice your creative artistry.”

“My what?” She laughed and gave him a push. “Oh, Connor, you smooth talker you.”

“That’s what it is.” He took her by the shoulders and held her as though she was very, very special. “I’ve eaten some of your cake wizardry, lady. Magnifique!”

The word hung in the air. She gazed up at him, suddenly filled with a wave of affection. Had she ever noticed before how his eyes crinkled in the corners? And how long his beautiful dark lashes were? Reaching out, she pressed her palm to his cheek for just a moment, then drew it back and turned away so that he wouldn’t see the tears beginning to well in her eyes.

“Okay,” she said a little gruffly. “We’ll give it a try. As long as you turn out to be worth more than the trouble you cause.” But she glanced back with a smile, showing him that she was only teasing.

“I won’t get in your way, I swear. You just wait and see. We’ll work together like a well-oiled machine.”

She blinked back the tears and smiled at him. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Ooh, don’t say that. Bad vibes.” She shook her head. “Okay then. Here’s the game plan. I’m going to go back over all my recipes and check to make sure I’ve got the right supplies before I start mixing new batters. You go and see what the boys are up to. Then you come back and help me.”

He saluted her like a soldier. “Mais oui, mon chef.”

“Wow. Those sleepy-time French lessons really did do some good. And here I was a non-believer.”

He looked a bit nonplussed himself. “Every now and then a few French words just seem to burst out of me, so yeah, I guess so.”

He turned his attention to the twins not a moment too soon. There was a ruckus going on in the next room. The boys were crying. Someone had pushed someone down and grabbed away his toy. The other one was fighting to get it back. Happened all the time. They needed supervision.

But there was really no time today to deal with it properly. He went back to discuss the situation with Jill.

“If you can think of any strenuous activities, something that might make them take their naps a bit earlier...” she mused, checking the supply of flavorings and crossing them off a list, then handing the list to him to start working on an inventory of the flour she had in storage.

“Say no more,” He gave her a wise look. “I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve. As soon as I finish counting up the canisters, I’ll deal with those little rascals.”

* * *

Time was racing by. Her convection oven could accommodate four cakes at a time, but they had to be carefully watched.