Upstairs Downstairs Baby. Cat Schield
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have wonderful taste.”
Linc was always doing something nice for the women in his life. His mother loved to collect cloisonné pillboxes, so he was always on the lookout for them. And whenever he visited her house, he never showed up empty-handed. It might be a bouquet of flowers, sugar-glazed pecans or a bottle of craft bourbon—Linc was always thinking of what Bettina might enjoy.
He’d been the same way with London. In her case, his purchases had been expensive pieces of jewelry or designer handbags. His sister liked gadgets, so whenever Linc ran across something new and innovative, he made sure Sawyer got one.
Conscious of Linc’s keen blue eyes on her, Claire started with the card. As she glanced at the cover, some of the tightness in her throat eased. He’d chosen something funny, a drawing of a dog wearing a big smile above the words Thank You. But when she flipped open the card and glanced at what he’d written, tears stung her eyes.
You’ve been a bright spot in my life for the last year. Thanks for all you’ve done. —Linc
“That’s so nice,” Claire croaked out, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. “Honey and I have really appreciated how kind and generous you’ve been. Not to mention patient.” She indicated the kitchen table, where her daughter was throwing herself back and forth in the chair and chanting to get down.
“It’s been great having you here.” He went over to lift Honey into his arms. “Both of you.”
Claire refused to give in to the warmth suffusing her at the sight of her daughter in Linc’s arms. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Linc always enjoyed Honey’s company. So why today was Claire overwhelmed by sentiment? Because that woman at the grocery store had drawn a startling connection between her and Linc? Or was it the notion Everly had put in Claire’s head that she was in a vulnerable position living and working in the same house as a man as attractive as her boss? Not that he would ever take advantage of her. But what if it wasn’t a matter of him taking advantage?
For the first time since Jasper had left for his final overseas tour, Claire confronted the ache building in her body. She’d been doing a decent job of focusing on Honey’s needs and ignoring her own—especially while Linc was engaged to London. He’d been completely off-limits while he’d belonged to another woman.
But now that Linc was single, parts of Claire felt reckless and uninhibited. She longed to wrap her arms around Linc’s neck and plant hot kisses on his sensual lips. To feel his strong hands slide over her heated flesh.
She gulped as her body was battered by cravings she suspected Linc could satisfy only too well. Damn it. She was falling for her boss. This would not do.
Silence reigned in the gourmet kitchen as Linc freed the toddler from her booster seat and set her on her feet. Giggling, Honey clung to his leg for a couple seconds before racing into the sunroom, where her toys were kept.
When he turned back to Claire, he saw that she was staring at the contents of the jewelry box. Her slight frown worried him.
“You don’t like them?”
At his question, Claire took a couple breaths and seemed to gather herself. “It’s too much.”
Linc chuckled warmly. “I assure you it’s not nearly enough.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“You like turquoise, right?”
For a span of a few heartbeats, Claire seemed to stop breathing. Had it been too much that he’d not only remembered her favorite color, but also that he’d found her something quirky to match her style?
“I’ve never seen anything like these,” she murmured.
“I got them at that boutique Sawyer’s friend owns. A local artist makes them. Each pair is one of a kind. I thought you’d appreciate that.”
“I do.” A smile accompanied her words, but it lacked something, making Linc frown.
“You’re sure you like them? I have the receipt if you want to return them and choose something else.” Hopefully she wouldn’t. He wanted her to wear something he’d picked out for her.
“I’d never do that,” she rushed to assure him. “They’re beautiful and I’ll treasure them.” As if to indicate the conversation was at an end, she set the top back on the box and put it aside. “Thank you.”
Linc wondered if the earrings were destined for a drawer, never to see the light of day again. His mood dipped. This wasn’t at all the outcome he’d been hoping for. He wanted her to love the earrings and think of him every time she wore them. Each time they tickled her neck, he’d imagine the contact was his lips grazing across her soft, fragrant skin. If he couldn’t touch her, he wanted something from him to caress her.
“You’re not going to wear them?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking the question.
She shook her head. “They’re too fancy for every day.”
“Then you’ll wear them tonight when I take you and Honey out for dinner.”
She looked appalled. “Dinner? Tonight?”
“Part two of your anniversary celebration.”
“But I have so much to do to get ready for tomorrow night’s dinner party.” She gestured to the flowers. “Why don’t I make something and we can eat here.”
“I don’t want you cooking or cleaning up.” He assumed she’d appreciate eating a meal she hadn’t prepared. “Let me give you a break from all that. A thank-you for all you’ve done for me.”
Her mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to continue arguing. At last, she nodded. “May I pick the place?”
“Of course. Where would you like to go?”
“There’s a seafood restaurant by Wappoo Creek I’ve been dying to try.”
“If it’s seafood you want, the yacht club has a fantastic restaurant.”
When her eyes widened in dismay, Linc wondered what was wrong.
“I’d really rather not go there.” Her chin lifted and her body language screamed determination. “And you said I could choose wherever I wanted.” When he nodded, she relaxed. “Besides, I’d rather go somewhere more kid-friendly, since Honey is coming along.”
“There are always families eating at the yacht club. You don’t need to worry about Honey being out of place.”
She shook her head. “How was lunch with your mother?”
Her change of subject reminded him of his mother’s request. He grimaced.
“She wants to throw a party and asked if you could cater it.”
“Of course.” Even as she spoke, her gaze grew unfocused. The wheels were already turning as she sorted through what treats she might prepare. “When is the party?”
“Two weeks.”
Another woman might have protested, but Claire merely nodded. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing special.” No need to explain that his mother intended to throw him to the wolves. “She just wants to invite some friends over.”
“Did she mention how many people?”
“Not really.” He sounded positively grim.
Claire gave him a curious once-over before saying, “I’ll give her a call and discuss the particulars.”
“If it gets to be too much, let me know. I don’t want you feeling overwhelmed.”
“Don’t worry.” She dismissed his