Inherited: One Baby! by Laura Marie Altom

Author:Laura Marie Altom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

After a restless night spent down the hall from Candy, Jake was only too happy to get up bright and early Thursday morning to make a quick trip to the store, then cook some grub.

Is that enough?

How many times had he run Candy’s question through his mind? Of course, he’d told her that just having her consider his proposal meant a lot—and it did. But meaning a lot and actually agreeing with it were two vastly different things.

Hacking through a bunch of green onions for his world-famous, chili-scrambled eggs, he figured he’d done the right thing in keeping his mouth shut.

She’d already come so far in such a short time.

What he needed to do now was to lay off any talk of their future marriage in favor of showing her just how great such a venture could be—not just for Bonnie, but for them.

Satisfied with that decision, he tossed the onions into a pan of melted butter, then whipped in eggs, milk, cheese and chili. Once his “eggstravaganza” finished cooking, he popped open a can of biscuits and flung the Frisbee-shaped dough onto a cookie sheet.

Just standing in Candy’s cozy kitchen filled him with memories. Did she still make from-scratch biscuits every Saturday morning?

He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the look of her long, golden legs peeking out from under the hem of his Lonesome High football jersey. It had a few holes in conveniently strategic places and if he was real lucky, sometimes she’d still be feeling feisty enough from Friday night that she cooked without panties!

She’d bring a plate heaping with fragrant biscuits and a bowl of melted butter up to bed, where they’d lounge around wolfing down biscuits and watching cartoons. And sometimes, if butter dribbled onto her chin, he’d be forced by husbandly code of honor to personally lick that dribble clean.

Of course, then, he might have to venture lower—just to make sure none of the slick, buttery goodness had infiltrated past his jersey’s neckline vee, for if it had, the shirt would have to come off.

House rule.

And once that jersey was off, and he had Candy in her full naked glory reclining like his own personal buffet across the center of the bed, could he really be blamed when the bowl of butter called out to him, urging him to dip his fingers in, then paint a buttery trail up and down and—

“Mmm, we wondered what smelled so good down here.” Candy, wearing those stupid cat-print pajamas instead of his football jersey sans panties, stepped up beside him, Bonnie on her hip.

“Oh, Jake,” Candy said, peering around him to peek into the pan. “Chili for breakfast? Again?”

“Hey, you just said it smelled good.”

“It does, but it just doesn’t seem very healthy. Wouldn’t you rather have some nice cantaloupe and…I don’t know? Maybe some homemade biscuits?”

“You’re still making biscuits, huh?”

Her cheeks turned the color of strawberry jam. Hot damn. Looked like someone else remembered their finger-licking good games—not that he wanted to play.

Yeah, right.

“I, uh, occasionally make biscuits,” she said, her free hand twirling her hair.

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