She gave him a more pointed once-over. “You’ll do, Westlake.”
He chuckled, then cradled the book against his chest and stuck out his hand. “Ditto.”
She shook it; her fingers were long, slender, her hand far more delicate and soft than he might otherwise have anticipated. An odd amalgam, Miss Dre.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, “and don’t let it go to your pretty head, but we’re rooting for you.”
Morgan frowned. “Rooting?” he said, confused. “For me? How?”
“You’ve got it all over the mechanic dude. He’s a good guy, but totally not right for her.”
“What mechanic dude?” For a moment, Morgan thought maybe she’d been referring to him and Lilly, making their home on Sugarberry and being accepted by the locals. But . . .
what
?
Dre sighed the sigh of young people everywhere, when their elders didn’t get the drift. “You have more of a shot than you think you do, that’s all I’m sayin’.” She shook her head, when his brow furrowed more deeply. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “so maybe age always matters.”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t get—”
“Just tryin’ to help.”
“Dre, Morgan.” Gabe walked over just then, looking truly concerned. “That was Jekyll. They really need us down there, pronto.”
“What’s up?” Dre asked.
“We need to lend an assist with temporary housing,” Gabe told her. “I’ll just have to send Greta with you, Morgan, and see if Kit will watch over Miss Lilly.”
“I can watch Lilly,” Dre offered. “How long?”
Morgan turned to her. He wouldn’t have thought of her as babysitter material, but opinions change, and his had. Plus, Lilly liked Dre. “It would be at least a few hours. Maybe even four or five?” He glanced at Gabe, who nodded in agreement. “Gabe’s got this tour, and new interns, and—”
“Say no more. I’m on it.” Dre held out her hand. “I’ll take the book back and send Kit up.”
“You sure?” Morgan asked. “I mean, Lilly will love it, but that’s a lot to ask.”
“You’re saying more and time’s wasting. When I’m on it, I’m on it.” She wiggled the fingers of her extended hand. “Gimme.”
Morgan’s wry smile returned as he handed her the spiral bound journal. “Appreciated.”
“No worries.” She smiled and brushed past him. “Besides, now you’ll owe me.”
“I’ll be happy to help you whenever there’s something you need.”
She paused, looked back. “I think you mean that.”
He grinned. “Just being myself.”
“Huh. You know, we may be more alike than you think.”
“Scary, right?”
Dre’s lips twisted in that half smile and she started toward the back again.
“Just don’t shave her head or tattoo her, and we’ll be fine,” Morgan called behind her.
“Not to worry,” she called back, turning and continuing to walk backwards. “I only shave and tattoo on Wednesdays.”
“Very funny.”
“Besides, she’s not the type for tats.”
“Good to know you feel that way.”
Dre paused just before pushing the swinging door that led to the rehab area. “Oh, she’ll be the type for something. But probably not that.” She grinned. “Probably.” Pushing through the door, she let it swing shut behind her.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Gabe said, looking worriedly at Morgan.
“Oh, I know they will.” Morgan glanced toward the back, then heard a loud girlish squeal of delight coming from the other side of the door. “That’s what worries me.” But though Dre was a complex young woman, , anyone who would put that much thought, care, and personal time into making such a gift, simply because she wanted to, was all right in his book.
Lilly burst through the swinging door a moment later, carrying the journal clutched to her chest. Kit came through the door just behind her.
“Moggy, Moggy, look!”
Morgan crouched down and caught Lilly as she all but ran over him. “I know, awesome, right?”
She showed him the book, her eyes shining more brightly than he could recall seeing in a very, very long time. “Amazing.” She drew out the word, then giggled when he laughed. “Miss Dre is going to stay with me. Miss Kit said you and her are going to get more turtles.”
“We are. Will you be okay with Miss Dre?”
Lilly nodded without hesitation, but asked, “Can’t we come, too?”
“I’m afraid there’s no room. But you can see them when we get back and watch us unload them.”
Gabe bent down and propped his hands on his knees. “Maybe you and Miss Dre can help us get their tanks set up.”
Lilly looked at him, her expression one of absolute awe. “Can we?” she asked in a hushed tone.
“I’ll talk to Miss Greta, and she’ll come get you in a little bit, okay?”
“Okay,” Lilly said, her expression the kind normally worn by kids on Christmas morning. “Thank you, Dr. Langley.”
Gabe beamed. “You’re very welcome, my dear. I appreciate the help.”
“Okay,” Morgan said, “you go on back with Miss Dre. We need to get going.”
Lilly hugged Morgan tightly, then skipped back through the door to the rehab area, journal still clutched to her chest. Morgan could hear her excitedly telling Dre about their new job.
He straightened and caught Kit’s expression as she was watching Lilly’s exit. Her face was filled with the amusement of someone utterly charmed, but there was also a look of true affection. Something about the unguarded honesty of her expression caught at him and caused a funny little flutter in his chest.
“That was a pretty awesome journal Dre made,” she said, turning back to him.
“She’s very talented.”
“I know. You should see the apron she designed for me for Babycakes.”
“I’d like to.” He quickly added, “Lilly wants to come by and see how your shop is coming along. I’ve been trying to explain how it works, but seeing it would probably make it clearer to her.” He smiled. “She’s afraid your feelings will be hurt if we don’t buy your cupcakes, too.”
“Aw. Sure, that would be fine. We’re done with demo now, so it’s a mess, but not dangerous.”
“Great. Thanks. And thank you for being so good with her. It means a lot.”
“Oh, of course. She’s delightful. I enjoy spending time with her.”
“Um, can I show you the transport truck?” Gabe interrupted.
“Oh.” Kit’s cheeks turned pink. “Right! Sorry. We were just—”
“That we were,” Morgan said, shooting a fast wink at Kit, then saluted Gabe. “Lead on, MacLangley. Your turtle transport team is on the job.”
Chapter 12
O
n the way down to Jekyll, Kit sat up front with Morgan. “This is my first time seeing this side of the operation. I didn’t even know he had his own transport truck. Pretty cool, actually.”
“Used to be an emergency vehicle. Gabe got it at auction a few years ago. Had to overhaul the engine, then had it refurbished to handle a different kind of patient.”
“Makes sense, really.”
“Actually, from what he told me, the idea came from a guy here on Sugarberry. Dylan Ross. He runs an auto shop down by the docks on the other end of the island. Gabe said he did most of the work gratis . . . as a contribution to the center. Gabe just paid for parts.”
“Good idea from a good guy, then.”
“From what I hear.” Morgan seemed to get lost in his train of thought for a moment, and she thought he murmured something like “that mechanic dude?” under his breath, but she didn’t question him on it. “You, ah, you know him?” he asked a moment later.
“Who? The auto mechanic? No, haven’t had the pleasure. Why?”
“No reason.”
She cast him a sideways glance, but his attention was on the road, and a smile hovered around his mouth. They fell into an extended silence as Morgan continued to make his way south. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy, either. Much as Kit had been staying focused on getting Babycakes up and running and on her new volunteer work at the center, Morgan had still managed to factor into her thoughts far more often than she’d like to admit. The tension simmering between them was exactly why. It led to restless nights and vivid dreams about things her conscious mind knew better than to explore . . . but with which her subconscious mind was having a veritable field day.
If she thought about it too much, she’d be squirming in her seat.
Though it appeared he was going to honor her “casual acquaintances” request, there was still a particular . . . look in his eyes when their gazes connected. It was not quite amused, not quite knowing, or maybe a little of both. Apparently, no matter what social barriers she put up, there was going to be no stopping that heightened sense of awareness they shared.
Of course, he’d come right out and said he was attracted to her. After she shut that down, she figured a man who looked like he did wouldn’t waste more time on a dead end like her, but would move on to a more willing recipient. Given his looks and his family name . . . finding someone couldn’t be all that challenging. Even on an island as small as Sugarberry.
She hadn’t heard any whispers to that effect, though. Not that her fellow Cupcake Club bakers would have bothered to whisper. She wished they’d taken the hint as well as Morgan had.
She hadn’t been certain how she’d feel when she saw him again. He’d been the subject of much chatter in the kitchen, and even more in her own, private deliberations, but none of it had changed her mind. She’d hoped, upon seeing him again, she could be pragmatic.
She sent another sideways glance in his direction, only to find his gaze connecting with hers. He shot her a fast grin, and there was that look again . . . like he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Had she been fidgeting in her seat, after all?
She shifted her gaze out the front window as casually as possible, but no amount of casual kept the heat from warming her cheeks. Not to mention other, more sensitive parts of her body.
Honestly, Katherine Mary Margaret Bellamy. Get a damn grip.
All that made her think about his hands. She’d noticed them straight off, when he’d handled the kite. Big hands, but gentle when they protected Lilly during her shy phases and skilled when they hammered nails and hung bulletin boards. She knew what they’d felt like on her, too—on her arms anyway. And . . . she really needed to stop thinking about them or she would be doing more than shifting in her seat.
“Do you have plans for the holiday?”
His deep, smooth voice didn’t so much jerk her from her guilty thoughts as feed straight into them. “Thanksgiving?” she managed, though she had to discreetly clear her throat to get the sex kitten out of it. What was wrong with her? Alva’s preoccupation with her “dry spell” filtered through Kit’s mind.
It has been a long time. A really long time. Dammit
.
Morgan sent a sideways smile her way. “That would be the one.”
She smiled, too, feeling beyond ridiculous. What was she, sixteen? “We’re ah, we’re all having a group dinner.”
“All?”
“Oh, sorry. I mean the Cupcake Club.”
He grinned outright at that, and it was infectious. “You have a club for cupcakes? Sounds like my kind of organization.”
More relaxed and more stimulated, all at the same time, she laughed. “It’s a group of Lani’s friends and associates who get together every week and do some after-hours baking. Kind of like a quilting club or book club . . . only we—”
“Commune over cupcakes.”
“More or less. It’s a rather . . . eclectic group, but I like them a lot.” She grinned. “Okay, so maybe I fit right in. It’s nothing like Mamie Sue’s, but it fills a certain void, not working with the crews every day anymore.”
“I think I’ve met a few of them. They seem like a nice bunch.” He laughed. “Though I admit, I had my reservations about Dre. Or she had them about me, or maybe both. She changed all that today, though.”
“She’s like that, very unexpected, but you’d want her having your back.”
“Definitely would rather that than the alternative.”
Kit laughed. “Well, that, too. They’re very loyal. We haven’t known each other long, but with the shop and everyone in and out all the time, I feel like we’ve already become friends. It’s been nice. More than nice. Definitely unexpected.”
“Sounds like a good entrée to island life.”
“It has been. I’m thankful . . . and grateful for them.”
“Sounds like a good reason to give thanks together, then.”
She settled back more in her seat. “You know, you’re right, it certainly does. I didn’t know how I was going to deal with . . . well, everything, moving forward. Actually, the holidays coming made me a little sad—maybe a lot sad—but that was really the least of my worries, all things considered. Still, I can’t say I was looking forward to them. But now . . . well, I am. Very much.”
“They’re always saying life moves in mysterious ways.”
She laughed. “Exactly. So what about you? Are you and Miss Lilly heading home for the holidays?”
Being part of a fractured family herself, she felt a connection to him she hadn’t anticipated. For family reasons—she missed hers and he was intentionally escaping his—they’d come to be in the same place at the same time, as part of a new life cycle. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having personal understanding of him. It was a lot like the road trip they were on . . . not exactly uncomfortable, but not simple, either.
“We’re staying on Sugarberry,” he said. “We haven’t been here all that long yet, and I want to keep Lilly’s life and routine as steady and stable as possible before we bring family back into it. Well, my side of the family anyway.”
“I hope this isn’t too personal, but—”
“I’m pretty sure, given everything we know about one another already, that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about.”
She smiled. “Yeah . . . maybe not. I was going to say that Alva mentioned the picnic with Birdie wasn’t as great as you’d hoped. I haven’t met Birdie, but I’ve heard Alva talk about her at length, and I know she’s so grateful that you’re trying.”
“We are. We’ll get there. It will just take a little time.”
“Understandable,” Kit said. “Poor thing has been through so much. You, too. I’m guessing this first round of holidays since . . . everything happened can’t be easy. I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it. I probably shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, that’s okay. Actually, I haven’t talked about it with anyone and . . . it’s almost a relief.”
Kit wasn’t sure what to say to that, or how she felt about him opening up to her, but she’d asked. Given how grateful she was to the cupcake crew for their friendship and support, she wouldn’t turn away from him if he needed the same. “How are you two coping? Is she doing okay? Do you think she’ll handle Christmas all right?”
“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t spent the holidays at home in a very long time, but I miss Asher and Delilah, and I worry all the time whether I’m doing right by Lilly.
“I’ve always made time for her throughout the year, ever since she was born. The holiday season is a very intense one at the Westlake household, and not in a good way, so I would come and visit her and the family at other times of the year. This is really our first Christmas together, and . . . I can’t make it not hurt and I can’t make it not hard, but I do want it to be as relaxed and as easy on both of us as I can. I want her to have sentimental traditions and goofy traditions and believe in Santa and all that . . . so, maybe not too much this year, but enough so it’s something she looks forward to next year.”
“Didn’t you have those things? Growing up, I mean? I’d think a family as old and established as yours would have some really deeply rooted traditions.”
“Oh, they do.” His tone was wry . . . and weary.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t want to stir up—”
“No, that’s okay. My family.” He let out a humorless laugh. “God, where to begin? We had traditions, but I can’t say they were the kind that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. My mother isn’t really the warm and fuzzy type, but it goes much farther back than that. Let’s just say the Westlakes aren’t so much a sentimental bunch as a family that never fails to find a way to turn any occasion into a potential boon for the family business. The holidays are seen more for their usefulness in networking and making sure to impress all the right people with just the right social engagements than they are about family or . . . well, any of the things I always wished Christmas and Thanksgiving could be about.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, not in a pitying way, but simply meaning it. “Sounds . . . removed. And lonely, actually.”
“Yes, it was. Fortunately, Lilly is young, so there’s still time to give her the kind of Christmas I always wished I’d had. Growing up, my friends would talk about their holidays, and since I’ve been in Colorado, I’ve experienced them firsthand like that.” He shrugged. “Let’s just say I know which way I prefer. And I want that for Lilly, too.”
“Do you miss your friends out west?”
“I do, yeah. A great deal. We’ve been keeping in touch, though, and I still do consultant work that keeps me connected out there, so it’s been okay. Better than I thought it would be, anyway.”
“Did you consider taking Lilly back there? I mean, it was your home.”
“When everything happened . . . it was so sudden. I’m Lilly’s godfather, and I knew Asher had wanted to name me guardian in full, should anything happen. None of us thought it would ever be needed, but . . . now it has. And I love her so much, I’d do anything for her.”
He slowed the truck as they bumped over the grids to another bridge and briefly glanced at Kit. “Our lives got turned inside out on that single night. So, nothing was going to be the same, anyway. I knew I wasn’t going to stay in Atlanta, at least not at the family estate. But I was never interested in taking Lilly away from my mother entirely, for either of their sakes. I don’t want her to ever forget her mother, her father, or her time in Atlanta. I want her to have
all
the family she has, around her.”
“You mean Birdie.”
He nodded. “I decided it was best to stay here—enough distance for me to take care of Lilly the way I want to take care of her, but pretty close to everyone.”
“You want to give her a real home, and not a family compound.”
He glanced at her again. “Exactly. Is that what you had?”
“No.” She smiled. “We’re new money, and most of that went back into the company. We kept the house Mamie had during the war, which went way back in the family. As things grew, so did the house, with additions stuck on here and there, every which way, but . . . even as things changed, they stayed very much the same.” She sighed. “I loved that house. I used to spend hours looking through all the old photo albums Mamie kept. So much of what we had was pretty much what I saw in those photos, just updated and expanded. We had traditions, tons of them, but they were . . .” She paused, then let the sentence trail off.
“Exactly what I’d want Lilly to have,” he finished quietly, but also with an easy smile.
“Thank you. That’s really nice of you to say. They were everything to me. Let’s just say we’re both missing things from yesteryear this time around.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and she understood what he meant.
“I am, too. You know, it’s funny, but for all that losing the company was devastating to me, because it was my life and my extended family all rolled into one, and because I felt like I’d ruined everything my family worked so hard to build—”
“You didn’t ruin it, you—”
“I let someone else ruin it, which is just as bad, maybe worse. It’d be one thing if I just couldn’t make a go of it, tough economy, whatever. I’d have gone down fighting, anyway.”