Babycakes (32 page)
Authors: Donna Kauffman
But in the time it took Kit to wonder, Olivia’s expression smoothed to an almost inhuman degree, until she looked like a cold, lifeless wax figurine. Her voice was a shard of ice. “I will be in contact with your lawyer to set up visitation. Fight me on this, and you’ll be very, very sorry. You may not take pride in your name, but my granddaughter will. I will see to it.” With that, she turned her back to him, and Thomas quickly helped her into the car.
Kit’s gaze flew to Morgan, devastated for him. But he was clearly not surprised by his mother’s response, and not even particularly upset by it.
Kit flew down the driveway, straight to him as he lifted a hand in a short wave. “And a very merry Christmas to you, too, Mother dear.”
Chapter 23
A
s soon as the car was out of sight, Morgan immediately turned to Kit. “I’m very, very sorry you had to witness that.”
s soon as the car was out of sight, Morgan immediately turned to Kit. “I’m very, very sorry you had to witness that.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Kit said. “I’m very, very sorry that your mother is . . . well, the way she is. You’ve explained it, but if I hadn’t seen it, I would never have understood it. I think it’s the same kind of thing, albeit on a very different level, as I’ve observed with my own sister. Like Trixie, your mother is hardwired differently from most people. I thought, for a moment there, she might capitulate and allow some real feelings to come through. I don’t know, but maybe she just can’t be vulnerable, or she doesn’t feel like the rest of us do. I’m just . . . sorry. For you. For Lilly.” She took his hands, put them on her waist, and urged him to pull her close.
Morgan hadn’t been worried about his mother or her threats . . . but he’d been terrified her surprise visit might have robbed him of the best thing that would ever happen to him. “Kit . . .”
He couldn’t put into words how her acceptance made him feel.
He pulled her close and wrapped her against him, realizing only then how worked up the confrontation with Olivia had made him. The feel of Kit in his arms went a long way toward soothing distress he hadn’t realized he felt. Or maybe it was because of his strong feelings about Kit that Olivia had been able to rile him. He finally had a vulnerable spot.
He tipped her face up to his. “How in the world did I get so lucky?”
Kit smiled up at him, and his heart found its rhythm again, just like that. “Well”—she wiggled her eyebrows—“define getting lucky.”
He barked out a laugh, then went with his heart and scooped her up and spun around, making her squeal long and loud. He spun her again, then carried her to the front door of the cottage, piggyback style. “Well, you know I’m a—”
“Show and tell guy,” she finished, then leaned down and nipped the side of his ear. “I’m counting on that.”
He carried her into the cottage and straight to the bedroom. “That’s the house, tour later,” he said, as it went by in a blur. He kicked the door shut and turned so she could drop back on the bed. Then he sprawled out next to her, pulling her close when even a few inches was just too far away.
“So, where’s all the showing,” she said, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “I believe we have a hearty picnic to get suitably hungry for.”
“Oh, I’m hungry all right,” he said, but covered her hands and lowered them. He and Kit had to deal with his mother’s appearance or he’d forever worry it would come back later to haunt them. “I am really sorry.”
“You had no more control over it than I did. It was a shock, sure. But . . . you handled it.”
“I’m not proud of the way I did that, but—”
Kit pressed her finger over his lips. “I was there, too, remember? You did what you had to do, spoke the only language she’d understand. And any harshness you meted out in the beginning, you more than made up for with your heartfelt plea at the end.”
“I did mean that. I truly wish we could be a family first, business second . . . or never.”
She stroked his cheek. “I do know. And I’m sorry she doesn’t seem able to function that way, because she’s missing out on two of the very best people I have ever had the privilege to know.”
He turned his head, kissed her palm, then tucked it on top of his heart. “This is where I feel you. This is where I know you,” he said, keeping her hand pressed over the steady thump. “I want you to know me the same way.”
“Maybe I already do.” She searched his eyes. “Did you mean everything you said outside?”
He tried to think back over what he’d said. His mother had pushed his buttons as always and he’d shot back whatever had come to mind. “Oh.” He realized what Kit might be talking about. “You mean . . .”
Kit spoke softly. “Normally, I like to stand up for myself. That way I always know I can. Being self-reliant has been very important to me, especially since my parents passed. But this past year . . . it shook me so hard. Not only did I not take care of me, I didn’t—couldn’t—take care of everyone else who depended on me.” She pressed a finger to his lips when he tried to comfort her.
She continued to search his gaze, but there was no fear in hers, no worry. No doubt. “It wasn’t until I met you . . . and you got me to reach out even though I was at my shakiest, urged me to hold on when I needed it, and not be so damned determined to shoulder everything alone . . . that I realized it’s not a sign of strength to be wholly self-sufficient. It’s merely a sign of vulnerability, because you don’t have faith—or haven’t cultivated enough faith—in those around you to work together as a team. Maybe if I’d done more of that with Mamie Sue’s, I’d have seen what was coming.”
Her lips curved in a slow smile. “I won’t lie. Your mother scares the ever living crap out of me.” She cupped his cheek. “But I don’t have to take her on alone. And now . . . neither do you. I don’t want to do life all by myself. I don’t want to prove that I can. I don’t want to prove anything. I want to do life with you. And with Lilly. And figure it out together, like you said, taking care of each other, letting me care for you and letting you take care of me right back.”
Her smile deepened, and a decided spark entered those green eyes of hers. “So . . . I’m asking . . . did you mean what you said out there? Or were you just trying to shock your mama by proclaiming to love one of those Bellamy tramps.”
Morgan choked out a laugh at that, but his heart was pounding so loud he had to focus to make sure he was hearing what he thought he was hearing, and not just what he so desperately wanted to hear. “If you’re asking do I love you,” he said, cupping her cheek, “then, yes. I love you, Katherine Mary Margaret Bellamy. And most definitely yes, I plan to marry you, if you’ll have me. Well, me and the most adorable five-year-old ever.”
Kit grinned, beaming up at him. “How did you know my full name?”
“I have read one or two articles about you, remember? Besides, I wanted you to know, without a doubt, that I know exactly whom I am proposing to.”
“So . . . you’ve thought about this proposal.”
“Well, I can’t say that in any incarnation, my mother was part of it, so . . . not exactly how I’d hoped it would go. But if you plan on saying yes at any future point . . . when you feel absolutely like it’s the right thing to do, I would happily give you a do-over, in the most romantic—”
She jerked his head down and kissed him. Rolling him to his back, she straddled his waist, still kissing him . . . until they had to come up for air.
Morgan blinked once, then again. “So . . . should I take that as a yes?” ”
“Depends.”
His eyes widened even as he laughed. “On?”
“Do you think Lilly should have siblings—well, cousins, whatever the heck they’d be—at some point? Not tomorrow, but—”
He pulled her down, kissed her fast, hard, and deep.
She let out a long, shaky sigh, when he let her up for air. “So, okay . . . check that one off. How do you feel about big sloppy dogs? I’ve always, always wanted one, but I could say it’s for Lilly, because all kids should have a pet, if that earns me more leverage.”
“Are you trying to see if you can scare me off?”
“Well, I just lived through your mother—which, I’m pretty sure, is the scariest thing you’ve got. I’m just trying to feel out your reaction to every possible thing on my side that I can. Fair is fair, right?”
Morgan rolled her to her back and grinned down into the bright green eyes and wide smile he hoped to be looking into for a long time to come. “Oh, so very, very right.”
He started to lower his head, but she blocked him. “Dog?” she said. “No ducking.”
“Dog,” he agreed. “Cat, gerbil, fish, sea turtle. I might draw the line at snakes. Never really liked them.”
“Deal. Not a fan, either.” She pretended to think about it. “Yep, that’s pretty much all I got.”
His grin was slow, wide, and—he hoped—very wicked. “Oh . . . you got much more than that.” He slowly worked his way down the front of her body, taking a very detailed inventory of every inch of her . . . assets.
“Yes,” she said on a long, appreciative sigh as her hips arched beneath him. “Yes, I do.” She slid her fingers into his hair and urged him to where she wanted him most. “And to think I imagined a life all about pie would be enough.” She arched sharply, cried out, as he found her very best asset.
She dragged him up, refusing to let him linger, and he gladly complied. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he found her in one, slow thrust, lifting her up to reach deeply inside of her. “Right,” he growled, as they began moving together in a rhythm that was all theirs. “Because this . . . this is . . .”
“Ah-mazing,” they said together, laughing, even as they went roaring straight past the edge, on a long, shuddering sigh.
Epilogue
“
T
his one is from Miss Dre.” Morgan handed the brightly wrapped present to Lilly, who was sitting beside the Christmas tree—her very favorite, bestest tree ever as she’d called it—buried in a mound of torn wrapping paper, ribbons, bows, empty boxes, and enough art supplies and sea turtle paraphernalia to last until at least the new year.
T
his one is from Miss Dre.” Morgan handed the brightly wrapped present to Lilly, who was sitting beside the Christmas tree—her very favorite, bestest tree ever as she’d called it—buried in a mound of torn wrapping paper, ribbons, bows, empty boxes, and enough art supplies and sea turtle paraphernalia to last until at least the new year.
She tore it opened, then gasped as her very own, miniature apron fell out. She spread it out, looking at it in awe. “Miss Dre painted a whole ocean. Look! There’s Paddlefoot! And Donatello!”
Kit shifted from her spot between Morgan’s outstretched legs and leaned over Lilly’s shoulder. “She’s got other ocean critters on there, too. Whales, fish. Look.” She pointed at each figure. It was another tremendous work of art. Kit shook her head, unable to comprehend how anyone had that kind of crazy talent.
Lilly looked up at Kit over her shoulder. “Do I have to wear it just for baking? Can I wear it with my paints Gramma got me?”
“I think it would make a fine art apron.”
“Would Miss Dre get mad if I painted in it?”
“Well”—Morgan scooted over and surrounded them with his legs and arms—“since she loves art as much as she loves to bake, I think she’d totally be happy with that.”
Lilly scrambled up so she could try it on, half trampling Kit and Morgan in the process. Morgan took the opportunity to lean in and kiss Kit, then another on the side of her neck.
“Eww,” Lilly said, grinning wildly. “Kissing.” It was a game with them now. Lilly knew when she said that, what happened next.
Morgan didn’t disappoint. “Eww? Kissing?” He crawled across the living room floor, sending Lilly squealing down the hall as the kissing monster followed her.
Kit could hear the peals of laughter and squeals as the kissing monster, once again, founds its prey and silenced it with all the love the poor “victim” could take.
They came crawling back with Lilly riding on Morgan’s back. He dumped her into Kit’s waiting lap, then both leaned down and kissed her again, making her squeal in another peal of laughter.
“So . . .” Morgan said, when they’d caught their breath and pulled ribbons and wrapping paper out of their hair. “There is one more present.”
Lilly’s eyes went wide. “There is?”
“This one is for Kit.”
Kit’s eyes went wide. “It is?”
Morgan grinned. “I was going to wait until your birthday, but then it sort of fell into my lap a bit sooner than I’d anticipated, and I couldn’t say no.”
Kit’s expression was confused.
“But, first, we need to pick up all this stuff. To make room.”
Kit and Lilly both looked confused.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get the trash bag.”
Kit and Lilly exchanged looks, then smiled and Kit shrugged. “Come on, you heard him.” They crawled around the floor, grabbing up all the paper, balling it up, shoving it in the bag Morgan held open for them. Kit stacked up empty boxes, trying to make orderly sense of Lilly’s haul. Between the two of them and the rest of the turtle rescue gang, they’d gone a teensy bit overboard for her, but it was Christmas, after all.
She turned around after getting the last bit squared away, to find Morgan and Lilly deep in a powwow by the kitchen table. Whatever Morgan was telling her, Lilly was solemnly listening to, and then was nodding her head, and all but jumping up and down excitedly.
“Sh,” Morgan said, pressing his fingers to his lips. “It’s a surprise.”
Lilly turned to Kit with both hands over her mouth, but her eyes were like saucers.
“What on earth did you get?” Kit asked, totally flummoxed.
“Wait here,” Morgan said, then stood and scooped up Lilly. “Come on, you need to help me finish wrapping it, okay?”
“Okay, okay, okay!” She was literally jumping in his arms.
Kit was tempted to follow them as they exited to the garage, but thought better of it. They were excited, and she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
She took the moment to pull her knees up, wrap her arms around them, and take in everything around her. It had been an incredible month.
Ah-mazing,
she thought with a smile.
Beyond so.
Ah-mazing,
she thought with a smile.
Beyond so.
She’d been so worried about how Lilly would handle Kit being a part of hers and Morgan’s lives, but it had gone much like Morgan had predicted it would. It was more love for Lilly, and happy people were happy. It hadn’t been awkward or difficult. It had been as easy and natural as all the rest.
Suddenly, Kit heard thumping and bumping coming from the garage and scrambled to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”
Lilly came bursting into the room and flung herself at Kit, who caught the energized little bundle in her lap. “What is it?”
“Close your eyes.” Lilly had already closed hers, though she knew what was making the noise. “Moggy said,” she whispered. It was almost a squeal, as she was still being a Mexican jumping bean in Kit’s lap.
Kit laughed and closed her eyes. “Okay, they’re closed.”
“They’re closed!” Lilly shouted, making Kit cover her ears.
She swore the ground might have trembled a little, or there was thunder happening in the floorboards.
“Okay,” Morgan said. “You can open your eyes. Merry Christmas, Kit.”
She opened her eyes . . . and about fell over in shock. “Oh. My. God. What is that? A small horse?”
Lilly leaped out of her lap and ran over to the mutant-sized puppy squirming in Morgan’s arms. Morgan looked at Kit and gave her a sheepish shrug. “Riley and Brutus joined a doggy playgroup over on Tybee, because she heard a mastiff came by to play and she thought it would be fun for him to have a friend his own size. Turns out the friend was pregnant. By what kind of dog, we’re not sure, but I’m guessing nothing small.”
Kit’s eyes bugged. “That’s . . . going to be a Brutus?”
“Well, I don’t know if she’d like that name.”
Kit’s heart melted. “It’s a girl puppy?”
Morgan nodded and Lilly was already pulling Kit’s hand. “Come on. Pet her. She loves it. I put the bow on her collar.”
Kit let Lilly pull her over to the squirming mass of happy puppy. She was velvety gray and ridiculously soft. “My God, Morgan, her paws are already the size of baseballs!”
“What is her name?” Lilly wanted to know, already hugging all over the dog. Apparently her fussy sensibilities didn’t extend to getting dog slobber all over her.
“I had planned to get a pound puppy,” Morgan explained. “But then the puppies were born and Riley had pictures and they just wanted to find homes for them, and . . . well . . .”
The puppy broke loose and leaped into Kit’s lap, snapping her from her stunned moment of disbelief, making her laugh as she was knocked to her back and proceeded to get a very thorough licking all over her face.
“We’ll have to come up with a name for you,” Kit said, finally getting the dog’s face in her hands. “Look at you. Look at you.”
Then she looked up at Morgan. “I love her. And I love you.” The puppy lurched up and licked Lilly. “And she loves you, too!” Kit added on a laugh. Morgan joined them in a tumble of puppy and five-year-old on the floor.
Kit finally managed to get close enough to give Morgan a big, wet kiss on his cheek. “Did you happen to get a life preserver?”
“Afraid we’ll drown in the dog slobber?”
“Well, that . . . but I meant for me.”
“Why?” He tugged her to his side as Lilly and the puppy went bounding over them and down the hall in a squeal of laughter and puppy barks.
Kit pushed the hair out of her face and pulled him next to her. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m never getting out of the deep end of the pool. Just keep helping me tread water, okay?”
“Promise.”
She was still laughing as she kissed him.
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