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

His gaze deepened. “Why not?” he whispered back. “What’s the fun of life if you don’t take chances?”

She held her breath. For just a few seconds, something electric seemed to spark between them. And then it was gone, but she was breathing quickly.

“Chances. Is that what you call it?” she said, blinking a bit.

He nodded. “Chances between friends. That’s all.”

She frowned at him. “Some friend. Where were you to stop me from marrying Brad?”

The look in his face almost scared her. She’d meant it in a lighthearted way, but being casual about a subject that cut so deep into her soul didn’t really work. Emotions were triggered. Her joke had fallen flat.

“I tried,” he said gruffly, a storm brewing in his blue eyes.

He was kidding—wasn’t he?

“What do you mean?” she asked, trying to ignore the trembling she heard in her own voice.

He leaned back in his chair but his gaze never left hers. “Remember? The night before your wedding.”

She thought back. “Yes. Wait. You didn’t even go to the bachelor party.”

He snorted. “I went. Hell, I was hosting it.” He seemed uncomfortable. “But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t take all the celebration.”

“Oh.”

“So I went off and left all those happy guys to their revelry. I got a bottle of Scotch and took it to a sandy beach I knew of.”

She nodded slowly, thinking back. “As I remember it, you were pretty tanked when you showed up at my apartment.”

He took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes. Yes, I was. I was a tortured soul.”

“Really? What were you so upset about that night?”

He stared at her. Couldn’t she guess? Was she really so blind? He’d been out of his head with agony that night. He knew what a wonderful girl Jill was, knew it and loved her for it. And he knew Brad wasn’t going to make her happy. But how could he tell her that? How could he betray a friend?

The problem was, he had to betray one of them. They were both his best friends and he couldn’t stand to see them getting married. And at the same time, he didn’t think he should interfere. It was their decision. Their misfortune. Their crazy insane absolutely senseless leap into the brave unknown.

But he knew a thing or two, didn’t he? He knew some things he was pretty sure she didn’t know. But how could he hurt her with them? How could he explain to her about all the times Brad had cheated on her in the years they’d all been friends?

She would chalk it up to pure jealousy, and in a way, she would have been right. He was jealous. He wanted her. He knew Brad didn’t value her enough. He knew Brad didn’t deserve her. But how could he tell her that? How could he tell her the truth without ending up with her despising him more than she now did Brad? If she really did.

Besides, what could he offer her in place of her romance with Brad? He wasn’t even sure he would ever be ready for any sort of full-time, long-term relationship. Every now and then he thought he’d conquered his background and the wariness he felt. But then he would see examples among his friends that just brought it back again. Could you trust another human in the long run? Was it worth the effort, just to be betrayed in the end?

And so—the Scotch. The alcohol was supposed to give him the courage to do what had to be done. But it didn’t work that way. It made him sick instead, and he babbled incoherently once he had Jill’s attention. She never understood what he was trying to say.

He couldn’t even tell her now. She’d asked him a direct question. What was he so upset about that night? And still, he couldn’t tell her the truth.

Because I knew you were marrying the wrong man. You should have been marrying me.

Reaching out, he caught her hand and looked deep into her eyes.

“Jill, tell me what you want. What you need in your life to be happy.”

She stared back at him, and he waited, heart beating a fast tattoo on his soul.

“Connor,” she began, “I... I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but I...”

But then she shook her head and the timer went off and they both rose to check the cakes. Whatever she’d been about to say was lost in a cloud of the aroma of delicious confections.

* * *

The last full-size cakes came out and were set to cool and they began to fill the large mini Bundt cake pans. Twelve little cakes per pan. And each had to be filled to exactly the same level.

“They’ll take about fifteen to twenty minutes,” she told him nervously. “Then the ovens have to be back up to temperature before we put the next batch in. If we time it right, we might just make it. But it’s going to be close.”

One hundred and ten little cakes, she thought with a tiny surge of hysteria. Oh, my!

Connor left to deliver some of the full-size cakes. Jill checked on the babies. They were still sleeping in their travel cribs. She was thankful for that. Back to the kitchen, she began to prepare the rectangular boxes with the small dividers she was going to put the mini cakes in once they were ready to go. Then Connor was back and they pulled a batch out.

“These are perfect,” she said with a sigh of relief. “You get the next batch ready. I’ll make the Limoncello glaze.”

They both had their eyes on the clock. Time seemed to go so quickly. Minutes seemed to evaporate into thin air. Jill was moving as fast as she could.

And then the phone started ringing. People who hadn’t had their deliveries yet were wondering why.

“We’re working as fast as we can,” she told them. “Please, every minute I spend on the phone means your cake will get there that much later.”

It was starting to feel hopeless. A batch overflowed its pan and they had to pull it out, clean up the mess and start again. She mixed up three batches of glaze and accidentally knocked them over onto the floor. That had to be done again.

And the clock was ticking.

She felt as though the beating of her heart was a clock, racing her, mocking her, letting her know she wasn’t going to make it. Biting her lip, she forced back that feeling and dug in even harder.

“Last batch going in,” Connor called.

She hurried over to see if it was okay. It was fine. Connor was turning out to be a godsend.

It was almost time. The phone rang. It was the Garden Club wondering where their cake was.

“Their party isn’t until seven tonight,” she said in full annoyance mode. “Can’t they wait?”

“I’ll run it over,” Connor offered.

“You will not,” she told him. “The engagement party is next. We have to deliver to them by five or we will have failed.”

The twins woke up and were cranky. Connor tried to entertain them but there was very little hope. They wanted their mother.

Jill had to leave Connor alone with the cakes while she cuddled her boys and coaxed them into a better mood. She knew they needed her and she loved them to pieces, but all the while she felt time passing, ticking, making her crazy. She had to get back to the cakes.