The Chef's Surprise Baby Read online

  And where had that thought come from?

  He cleared his throat along with his mind. “Drink your coffee,” he suggested. “Then we’ll chat.”

  “Here’s a better idea—I’ll go back to sleep for another three hours and then we’ll chat.”

  He shook his head. “I have to be at the restaurant in three hours.” He glanced at the Tissot watch on his wrist, a graduation present from his mom and a symbol of her pride in what he’d accomplished and her belief in his future—when she’d believed that his future was at Jo’s Pizza. “Actually, less than that now.”

  Erin peeled back the tab on the lid and cautiously sipped the hot liquid.

  “You said your sister and her husband are coming...when?” Kyle prompted.

  “Please,” she implored. “I need at least three minutes for the caffeine to hit my brain before I can be expected to have a conversation.”

  “Do you think maybe you could get dressed in those three minutes?” he asked. “Or at least grab a robe?”

  “You don’t get to show up at my door before nine o’clock on a Sunday morning and be offended that I’m in my pajamas,” she said.

  “I’m not offended,” he told her. But he was inching close to being aroused, and that was dangerous territory for their relationship. “You just look a little...um...cold.”

  He’d been trying really hard not to notice that the tight peaks of her nipples were pressing against the thin fabric of her top, but his eyes were clearly not accepting the commands from his brain, because his gaze kept dropping to her chest. And when he managed to lift it to her face again now, he saw that her cheeks were a darker shade of pink than the skimpy top that clung to her breasts.

  “I’ll get dressed,” she decided. “But I’m taking my coffee with me.”

  He nodded as she turned to go, failing again in his efforts not to notice that the hem of those shorts barely covered the sweet curve of her butt—and that she had really great legs.

  Obviously he’d been too long without a woman if he was ogling a friend, he decided, and she deserved better than that. He swallowed another mouthful of his own coffee and nearly scalded his throat in the process, no doubt punishment for his inappropriate thoughts.

  Erin and his sister had been roommates at the University of Texas and remained in close contact after graduation, though Kyle didn’t meet Erin until she came to Haven for Lucy’s wedding. There had been a hint of a spark in the beginning, but when he’d realized the sexy stranger’s connection to his sister, he’d ruthlessly extinguished it. Not just because he knew that Lucy wouldn’t approve and he didn’t want to be the cause of any more friction in his family, but also because any kind of romantic entanglement—no matter how temporary—with someone he might cross paths with again at family events was a complication he didn’t want.

  A smart decision, as it turned out, because Erin’s visit to town for the wedding had resulted in her moving to Haven only a few months later. In the six years that had passed since then, Kyle and Erin had gotten to know one another a lot better and become good friends themselves. And while he’d never lost sight of the fact that she was a beautiful woman, he’d also never been tempted to make a move that would jeopardize their friendship.

  Because as much as Kyle appreciated and enjoyed female companionship, his track record with relationships was abysmal. The biggest barrier to success was always his demanding work schedule. While there were plenty of women who liked the idea of dating a chef, none of them—or at least none that he’d gone out with—had understood that being in charge of a kitchen required him to be in the kitchen. Which meant that he worked every Friday and Saturday night and every major holiday, and stealing away for a romantic weekend wasn’t likely to ever happen.

  Mikayla, a court clerk and his most recent ex, claimed to understand that his job required him to work weekends—but she’d been certain he didn’t mean every weekend. Of course, she worked eight-to-four Monday through Friday, and she’d started to resent that he was always at work when she got home and that they could never go away for a few days—or even a single Saturday night—because he was needed at the restaurant. After five months of dating—mostly late evenings, when the restaurant closed early, or Saturday mornings, before he went in to work—she’d decided that she wanted more than a few hours a week with someone who was too selfish and self-centered to appreciate everything she was offering.

  He hadn’t dated another woman since she walked out the door. He simply didn’t have it in him to disappoint anyone else.

  And the absolute last person he’d ever want to disappoint was Erin, which was just one more reason he had to forget how temptingly sexy she’d looked in those skimpy pj’s.

  Easier said than done, he suspected.

  Chapter Two

  “Are you happy now?” Erin asked, returning to the living room, where Kyle had settled with his coffee on her plum-colored leather sofa.

  Despite his earlier admonition to himself, he let his gaze skim over her again, from her head to her feet. She’d brushed the tangles out of her hair so that it fell like a curtain of silk over her shoulders, and her toenails were painted a pretty shade of pink that might have matched her pj’s, if he’d been able to tear his gaze from her skimpy attire to notice her toes earlier. She’d also donned a simple scoop-neck T-shirt in a bluish-green color that somehow made her eyes look even bluer, along with a pair of navy capri-style pants.

  “I’m always happy,” he said, responding to her question before countering with his own. “Are you awake now?”

  “Barely,” she admitted, perching onto the arm of a chair across from him. “But the coffee is helping, so thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” He lifted his own cup to his lips and swallowed another mouthful.

  “Now are you going to tell me why you were at my door before nine a.m.?” she asked.

  “Because I couldn’t remember when you said your sister and brother-in-law were coming to town.”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Then we’d better figure out what you want to cook so that I can give you a list of ingredients to pick up before our first lesson this afternoon.”

  “You want to start today?”

  “It’s not about want but need.” He winked. “Because a woman who can set off the fire alarm making a grilled cheese sandwich is going to need more than one lesson.”

  “That happened once,” she said, her tone defensive. “Because I was making lunch while also answering emails and got distracted. And while it was admittedly embarrassing, the incident did lead to a date with a hunky firefighter who responded to the call.”

  Then she sighed. “Of course, that relationship ended eight months later when he finally accepted that I really couldn’t cook.”

  “Everyone can cook,” he insisted. “You just need someone to teach you the basics.”

  But she was nibbling on her bottom lip—a telltale sign of nerves—and he realized that she had sincere doubts about whether she was up to the task.

  He didn’t share her concerns, because she’d proven that she could tackle any goal or challenge that she set for herself. He also knew that her struggles in the kitchen were less a reflection of her skills than they were a commentary on her relationship with her mother, who’d never spent any time in the kitchen with Erin. But the fact that his friend had never before shown any interest in putting together a real meal made him ask, “Is this guy really worth the effort?”

  “Are you talking about Seth?” she asked, naming the firefighter ex-boyfriend.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m talking about the ex who’s now married to your sister.”

  She frowned. “You think I’m doing this for Nick?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.” Her response was immediate and vehement enough to convince him that she believed it to be true. “I’m doi
ng this to show both Anna and Nick that I’m totally okay with their relationship.”

  “If you were totally okay with their relationship, you wouldn’t be trying so hard,” Kyle pointed out.

  “It’s just a little...weird,” she said. “If not really surprising.”

  “Because your sister’s always wanted everything that you had?” he guessed.

  “And she always got it.”

  She didn’t sound resentful as much as resigned, and Kyle suddenly remembered a story she’d told him a few years earlier, about her mom asking her to give up a favorite Christmas gift to Anna because she liked Erin’s toy better than the one she’d received. From the time her sister was old enough to say “I want,” Erin was encouraged to “be a big girl” and share with Anna.

  “But I’m looking forward to her visit,” Erin said, and even managed to sound as if she believed it. “I haven’t seen anyone from home since Christmas.”

  “You couldn’t wait to get back after your trip to Silver Hook in December,” he reminded her.

  It was true, Erin acknowledged, if only to herself.

  And part of the reason was that it was while she was home for the holidays that she’d discovered her sister was dating her ex-boyfriend—and no one had thought to give her a heads-up about the fact. Only Roger, her brother Owen’s partner, had expressed any remorse that Erin had obviously been ambushed by the news of Anna’s relationship with Nick. Of course, Roger and Owen lived in Portland, so they’d been as in the dark as Erin until Nick showed up for the family gathering on Christmas Eve. Her oldest brother, Ian, and sister-in-law, Marissa, had no such excuse. Or maybe they’d assumed that she wouldn’t care—and she didn’t.

  But she would have appreciated a little bit of warning.

  “So...menu,” she said, steering the topic of conversation back around again. “I was thinking Italian.”

  “How about chicken parmesan with spaghetti?”

  “One of my favorites.” She swiped the screen on her cell phone to open her memo pad tab and create a grocery list. “Tell me what I need to get.”

  * * *

  Kyle was organizing the ingredients Erin had set out on the counter when her cell phone rang.

  She glanced at the display and exhaled a weary sigh.

  “Are you going to get that?” Kyle asked, when she made no move to do so.

  “It’s my mom.”

  “Which doesn’t answer my question,” he noted.

  “We had our regularly scheduled phone call Wednesday morning,” she told him. “I can’t imagine why she’d be calling me now.”

  “You might find out why if you answer the phone,” he suggested, sounding amused.

  “But we’re in the middle of cooking.”

  “We’re not in the middle,” he denied. “We haven’t even started.”

  She sighed again and swiped a finger over the screen to connect the call. “Hello?”

  “Erin?”

  They went through the same routine every time Bonnie called, despite the fact that no one else ever answered Erin’s phone. “Yes, Mom, it’s me.”

  “How are you?”

  She gave her usual response. “I’m fine, thanks. How are you doing?”

  “Good.”

  “How’s Dad?” she asked, conscious of the fact that Kyle was only a few feet away, able to hear every word of her end of the typically awkward conversation.

  “Good,” Bonnie said again.

  “Anything new in Silver Hook?” Erin prompted, because she was certain there had to be a reason for this unexpected Sunday afternoon call.

  “Good.”

  The distracted response gave Erin pause. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yes. Um... Of course.”

  “Are you sure?” she pressed. “You sound a little preoccupied.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bonnie apologized. “I was just checking my email.”

  “I’d apologize for interrupting, but you called me,” Erin reminded her.

  “I just wanted to check in, to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m fine,” she said again.

  “And...I wanted to let you know that Anna and Nick got married,” her mother continued.

  “I heard.”

  “How...? Who...?”

  “Anna called me yesterday,” Erin told her. “After the wedding.”

  “Oh.” Bonnie obviously hadn’t anticipated this revelation. “Well, I hope you were able to congratulate your sister.”

  “Of course. I offered them my best wishes.”

  “I’m glad. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

  “It really doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “You’ve always tried to be so brave—”

  “Nothing about this situation requires bravery,” Erin interjected to assure her. “If they’re happy, then I’m happy for them.”

  “But you seemed...upset...to realize they were together at Christmas.”

  “I was surprised,” she said. “More so that nobody bothered to tell me than by the fact that they were dating.”

  “Anna worried about telling you... She thought you might still be in love with Nick.”

  “We broke up more than twelve years ago,” she reminded her mother.

  “A woman never forgets her first love,” Bonnie said knowingly.

  “Speaking of,” Erin said, desperate to change the topic, “is Dad around?”

  “Actually, he’s not at the moment.”

  “He’s out fishing,” she guessed, only a little disappointed. It was always a pleasure to talk to her dad, but she knew that Kyle was waiting to start her cooking lesson. And while she wasn’t quite as eager, she was at least determined to pay attention.

  “Every chance he gets,” her mom confirmed now. “And we were so busy this weekend, he didn’t have a free minute to put his line in the water.”

  Brian Napper frequently said that he’d been happy to take over his family’s fishing resort because it meant he got to spend every day doing what he loved. He hadn’t anticipated Sunfish Bay would become so successful that, with each year that passed, he had less and less time to enjoy the simple pleasures.

  “When he comes in, be sure to give him a hug and kiss from me and tell him that I love him.”

  “I will,” Bonnie promised.

  “And...I love you, too,” she said, feeling just a little bit guilty that she’d tacked it on as an afterthought.

  “And me, too, you.”

  An awkward but unsurprising reply that alleviated the slight twinge of guilt.

  * * *

  Kyle had prepared more than a few meals in Erin’s kitchen, but usually when he was cooking, his friend and neighbor stayed out of his way, content to sip a glass of wine and watch him work. However, teaching her to cook necessitated working in close proximity, making the already small galley kitchen feel a lot smaller.

  The road to a cold shower is paved with good intentions, he suddenly remembered, as Erin squeezed through the narrow space between the island—where he was arranging bowls and utensils—and the counter. Her front brushed against his back as she did so, causing electric sparks to skip and skitter through his veins.

  Yep, way too long since he’d slept with a woman, Kyle decided. Because that was the only possible reason he was suddenly reacting to Erin’s closeness.

  She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way, but she was wearing the same T-shirt and capris that she’d put on earlier, now with a white butcher-style apron over them to protect her clothes. He’d made her put on shoes, too. Not just because he didn’t want to be distracted by her sexy pink toenails but also because bare feet were a potential hazard in the kitchen.

  Still, her presence provided him with plenty of other tantalizing distractions, such as the
fact that he could smell the subtle, peachy fragrance of her shampoo every time she turned her head—as she seemed to do every two minutes. Or maybe it was a scented body lotion she rubbed over her creamy skin to keep it soft and smooth that he was smelling. And he definitely should not be thinking about Erin rubbing lotion over her body, her narrow hands slicking over her skin, tracing the contours and curves—

  “How’s this?”

  Her question jerked him back to the present, and the chicken that she’d pummeled to almost paper thinness.

  “You want the breast—” he cleared his throat and hastily amended “—the chicken to be of uniform thickness so it cooks evenly. You don’t need to be able to see through it.

  “But that’s my fault,” he acknowledged ruefully. “My mind was wandering.”

  “Good thing we haven’t turned on the heat under the frying pan, or the fire department might be on the way,” she teased.

  She was right, and he knew better than to allow his thoughts to stray when he was in the kitchen.

  Usually.

  But he’d never before been in such close confines with a woman he was, suddenly and inexplicably, having trouble remembering was off-limits.

  He and Erin had been friends for half a dozen years—why was he only now noticing how good she smelled? Or that those capri pants hugged her sweetly shaped bottom? And that her lips, shiny with gloss, were plump and perfectly shaped for kissing?

  The truth, of course, was that he wasn’t only now noticing. That he’d felt the initial stirrings of attraction the first time he saw her. But he’d pushed those feelings aside—successfully—for more than six years.

  So why was he struggling to continue to do so now?

  “Now you’re going to dip the chicken in the beaten egg,” he said, refocusing on the task at hand.

  She picked up the chicken.