Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(50)
Which just went to prove that small town life wasn’t quite as dull or restrictive as he’d once believed. In fact, he kind of liked it.
Of course, he didn’t think his current happiness had as much to do with where he was living as it did with how he was living…and with whom.
Hiking Danny higher on his hip, he continued to whistle—the theme from Thomas the Tank Engine, no less—and grinned at his son’s hearty chuckle. He was wearing a pair of denim trousers with an official Sugar Shack infant tee and tiny yellow sneakers.
The Sugar Shack merchandise had been Marc’s idea and had been an immediate success. In addition to baked goods, they now sold T-shirts, sweatshirts, baby clothes, coffee and travel mugs, and even key chains. In his opinion, it was the best advertising Vanessa could get other than plain old word of mouth.
The sneakers were because Danny was walking now…well, toddling, was more like it…and because he was starting to want to dress more like his daddy. Marc’s heart gave a lurch at the thought and he squeezed his son even tighter against his side.
“We’re going to see Mommy,” he told the little boy, then added, “Maybe she’ll give you a cookie.”
“Cookie!” Danny yelled at the top of his lungs, lifting his arms and clapping over his head.
Marc laughed, wondering how much trouble he would get in when Vanessa found out he was plying their son with promises of sugar first thing in the morning. But then, she ran a bakery, so she shouldn’t be surprised. “Cookie” had been Danny’s first word…followed by “mama,” “dada” and “cake.” He was working on “baklava,” but at the moment it came out more like “bababa.”
Reaching The Sugar Shack’s wide glass storefront, he pulled open the door to the distribution side of the business. An elderly woman was just shuffling out, so he held it for her and wished her a good day before slipping inside.
Vanessa was behind the counter, but as soon as she saw them, she smiled and started around. Her copper curls—longer now than when Danny had been an infant—were pulled back in a loose ponytail, and a pristine white Sugar Shack apron covered the front of her short-sleeve blouse and shorts.
“Cookie!” Danny cried, wiggling to be put down.
Vanessa arched a brow. “His idea, I’m sure,” she murmured half under her breath.
“Of course,” Marc replied. “But then, what can you expect when his mother owns the best bakery in the state? You’re lucky he isn’t asking for pastries morning, noon and night.”
“He is, but that doesn’t mean he’ll get them,” she answered primly.
Leaning in, she bussed Danny on the cheek, running her fingers through his toffee-brown hair, which was rather in need of a trim. They’d been talking lately about having it cut and Marc was inordinately excited about taking his son for his first visit to the barber shop. An honest-to-goodness barber shop!
When she lifted up on tiptoe to kiss him, too, he slipped his free arm around her back and pulled her in for something much longer and deeper. Trapped between them, Danny giggled when they stayed locked at the lips a bit too long and started slapping their cheeks with his small hands.
They pulled apart, and Vanessa chuckled, her face flushing a becoming shade of pink. Marc, however, was far from embarrassed; he was busy calculating how many hours were left before she closed up shop and he could convince her to go to bed early.
Too damn many, that was for sure.
“I have a surprise for you,” he told her as she moved back behind the counter.
He watched her loosen the ties of her apron and slip it over her head, then dig inside a small plastic container that she kept filled with cookies just for Danny. Their son’s love of sweets had prompted her to experiment with a few recipes for healthier cookies and desserts. Ones with less fat and sugar, and substitutions such as applesauce and raisin paste for the oils.
Coming around again, she handed Danny the cookie, and Marc set him on one of the high countertops to eat it, remaining close enough to keep him from toppling off.
Without the apron, Vanessa’s four months of pregnancy were much more noticeable. And just like every time he saw that tiny baby bump, Marc’s chest constricted with love and pride and the overwhelming relief of knowing that—even though they’d cut it damn close—he hadn’t let her get away.
As much as they’d suspected it for a while, she hadn’t been pregnant when they’d walked away from his family’s home. Instead, they’d had some time to settle in Summerville and adjust to once again being together. Not that there had been a lot of adjustment needed, at least not on his part.
They’d bought a large, very nice house on the outskirts of town. One that had been built years before by a wealthy businessman who’d decided to move closer to the city after he and his wife divorced.
It was smaller than Marc was used to, but exceptionally large and impressive for the area. It also had plenty of room for their growing family, and came with enough acreage to afford complete privacy, as well as room for Danny and his future siblings to play.
They had also gotten remarried. At the courthouse this time, with a minimum of fuss and muss. Only Helen had been in attendance as their witness, as well as Vanessa’s matron-of-honor and Danny’s stand-in-nanny. He actually thought she might be coming around to liking him, but he knew he would have to prove himself all over again to be worthy of her niece’s affections before he could truly win back the woman’s favor.