Sweet Surrender, Baby Surprise (10 page)

“Perfect timing,” she said, and made a sideways move toward the oven.

Cameron held her in place. “Stay right there.” He pulled the second batch of cupcakes out of the oven and placed them on a rack, then slipped the third batch in and set the timer for fifteen minutes.

“I have to start the frosting now,” she said.

“Not yet.” He pulled her close and turned to switch places with her, so now his back was against the wall. He slipped his hands under her apron and clutched her
exposed backside, shaping it with both of his hands. “This is what every guy watching your baking demonstrations has been fantasizing all week.”

“Don't be silly—oh,” she said, her protest fading as he cupped her bottom and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned as she sank onto his rigid length. “Oh, Cameron.”

“I told you I knew my way around the kitchen.”

 

Julia's conference ended two days later. Cameron enlisted the help of most of the bellman staff to load up two cars with suitcases, Julia's kitchen equipment and the baby's gear. Then they caravanned back to Dunsmuir Bay.

Cameron pulled into the tree-lined driveway that led to his two-story, Craftsman-style home overlooking the cliffs and parked his Porsche next to the three-car garage. He jogged to Julia's minivan, slid opened the back door and stepped into the car to take Jake out of his car seat.

“We're home, buddy,” he whispered as Julia gathered her purse and keys and climbed down from the driver's seat. “Hope you like it here.”

Holding the baby, Cameron led Julia to the carved-oak door leading into his home. She stopped and gazed out at the wide lawn that rolled all the way to the cliffs overlooking Dunsmuir Bay.

“It's beautiful,” she said, shielding the sun from her eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” he said, staring at her as the baby bounced in his arms.

Julia felt her cheeks heat up from his intense gaze.
She swallowed self-consciously. “I think we'll be very happy here.”

“Good,” he said, and kissed her. “Let's go inside.”

“Okay.”

Cameron swung the front door open, then stopped, blocking the entryway.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Everything's perfect,” he assured her, “but I want to do this right. You hold Jake, okay?”

Julia grabbed hold of the baby, then Cameron bent and lifted both her and the baby into his arms and carried them into his home. Once inside, he kissed her again. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You can put us down now.”

“Oh, yeah.” He grinned and kissed her one last time, then gave the baby's forehead a smooch before letting them go.

As Cameron placed the baby in his rolling bouncy chair, Julia gazed around, taking in the large living area. Peg-and-groove hardwood floors spanned the length of the room from the front door to the wide wall of glass on the opposite side. The ultra-modern kitchen was open to the room and the vaulted ceiling rose up two floors, making the space feel even bigger. Along one wall, the wide staircase led to the second floor.

Spacious rugs covered the living room area where several chairs and sofas were arranged to create a number of conversation areas. A river-stone hearth and fireplace was built into one wall, lending the room a warm, cozy feel despite its massive size.

“My housekeeper had everything baby-proofed,
but we'll go through and double-check to make sure everything's extra safe for Jake.”

“It's beautiful, Cameron,” she said, making a beeline for the opposite end of the space where the dining room connected to the kitchen. She was curious to see where she would spend much of her time every day.

In the dining room, she stared through the thick glass wall at the ocean. There were whitecaps on the water today and sailboats dotted the horizon. “Spectacular.”

“And the view from the kitchen is just as nice.”

“Nice?”
she said, smiling as she checked out the fabulous views. The kitchen walls were painted a dark gold, maybe too dark for her taste, but that could be changed. “It's gorgeous. And huge. I can watch the waves crash while I bake. This place is a showcase.”

He laughed. “Is that a genteel way of saying it's not exactly comfortable?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked, her eyes wide. “It's very comfortable. It's a real home.”

“I like to think so.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I spend most of my time in here or out by the pool. There's a den upstairs where I like to watch TV, although sometimes I'll use the set in the living room.” He was rambling, she realized. Was he nervous? “Anyway, I hope you'll feel at home here.”

“I already do.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. After a moment, she leaned back and added, “Although it's awfully clean.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Again that doesn't sound like a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” she said laughing. “I'm just so used to the clutter of my old place. It's up in the hills and it's
big and old. I love your home much more.”
Because you're here,
she thought. And because this was a real home, not a mausoleum. She looked around some more, then grimaced. “I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into. With Jake here, your lovely clean home will deteriorate into a jumbled mass of toys and clutter.”

“I can't wait,” he insisted, and followed her back into the living room as she explored the space. “It'll be fun.”

“No, I mean it,” she said, strolling over to run her hand along the back of the dark gray sectional. “He's like a tornado.”

“This place can handle it,” Cameron said. “And if you don't like anything, we'll get rid of it. I want you both to be happy and comfortable here. Believe me, I'm not tied to anything in this room.”

She sighed. “I hope not, because Jake's stuff seems to multiply and take over rooms. It's scary.”

Cameron laughed. “It's okay, Julia. It'll be an improvement from the way it is now.”

She glanced around as the baby began to bounce and wiggle. “You mean, neat and clean?”

“
Too
neat and clean,” he clarified. “I'm glad Jake's here to liven things up.”

She shrugged and watched as the baby rolled and bounced his way across the Persian carpet. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

 

“That was a waste of three days,” Brandon muttered as he slid into the back seat of the limousine and slammed the door shut.

Adam took off his sunglasses and slipped them in
his pocket. “The first two days were worthwhile. It was just today that sucked.”

“True,” Cameron said with a nod. “But now we know who we're dealing with.”

“Yeah,” Brandon said. “Idiots.”

The head of one of their subsidiaries, Jeremy Gray, had set up the meeting in Delaware earlier that morning, thinking the two companies might find enough common ground for a merger. It hadn't worked out, to say the least.

“I'm scheduling a meeting with Jeremy first thing tomorrow morning,” Adam said, pulling out his cell phone. “I want to know what the hell he was thinking, setting this up. That group won't be ready to take their operation nationwide for another two years.”

“If ever,” Brandon added.

The rest of the drive from the airport was made in relative silence. Cameron was dropped off first and after grabbing his suitcase from the trunk, he thanked their driver and told his brothers he would see them in the morning.

He was tired but happy to be home. He'd always enjoyed traveling for business, but this time he had to admit he was beat. More than that, he'd actually missed his new family. It had been disconcerting to find himself in the middle of a business meeting, checking the time and wondering what Julia and Jake were doing right at that moment. He refused to read too much into his feelings, though, chalking it up to the fact that the newness of being part of a family hadn't worn off yet.

Stepping inside the house, he paused for a moment and listened for their voices. Then he took the stairs two at a time and found Julia in Jake's room, putting the
baby to bed for the night. She whispered sweet nothings and rubbed Jake's stomach for a minute before winding up the colorful wizard mobile over his bed and wishing him sweet dreams.

Cameron leaned against the doorjamb, taking in the warm, homey scene. When Julia spied him, she let out a muted cry, then raced over and pulled him out into the hall where she wrapped herself around him. “I'm so glad you're home.”

“Me, too.” He breathed in the sultry scent of her.

“Do you want dinner?” she asked.

“No, I had something earlier at the airport. But I could go for a beer. Then bed.”

They walked downstairs arm in arm. “What have you been up to while I was gone?”

“You'll see in a minute,” she said, her tone lighthearted.

In the kitchen, he headed for the refrigerator, then stopped. He glanced around the room. It took him a few seconds before he realized what was different. “You painted my kitchen. And where's my refrigerator?”

She smiled brightly. “It's just a few shades lighter than it was, but it makes a nice change, don't you think? And your refrigerator is in the garage. We can still use it for storing drinks and frozen foods, but mine was practically brand-new and it's so much bigger and laid out better. I didn't think you'd mind.”

He opened the new refrigerator to look for a bottle of beer. It took a minute before he found them stacked neatly along the door. He twisted the cap off and took a long drink. “You could've asked me.”

Her smile dimmed. “It was a spur-of-the-moment
decision. I guess I should've warned you, I make them sometimes. And you weren't here.”

“You could've called.”

“I didn't want to bother you while you were in meetings.” She sniffed. “Besides, you made it clear you'd be too busy to talk much.”

“We talked last night,” he pointed out. “You could've told me then.”

Her lips compressed in a tight frown. “We were discussing other things. I forgot.”

Oh yeah,
he thought, recalling the conversation. They'd had phone sex. He took another sip of beer, then muttered, “Well, next time let me know.”

“Fine.”

She sounded annoyed.
Join the club,
he thought, and tossed the bottle cap in the trash can, which she'd moved to the opposite side of the room, closer to the service porch. Irritated now, he said, “Look, just ask me before you make changes to my house.”

“And here I thought it was
our
house now,” she said as she wiped off Jake's high chair. “My mistake.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“No? Well, it sounded
like that.
”

“Sorry, but I've had a long, frustrating day.”

“And I haven't?”

“That's not my point.”

“Oh, did you have a point?”

Yeah, she was definitely annoyed. But so was he. “I'm just saying that this is the kind of decision we should both have a hand in making.”

“Fine.” She threw the sponge down. “I'll call the painters and have them change it back to the way it was. Then we'll discuss it.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Oh, now I'm being ridiculous?”

“Well, you're not making much sense,” he said. “I'm just saying it's important for us to—”

“I'll tell you what's important,” she said, wagging her finger in his face. “Me. That's what. I'm important. And my work space is important. Call me a temperamental artist, but I need to enjoy the space I work in. And that means the kitchen. Your refrigerator wasn't efficient and the color of this room was too dark for me. I didn't feel creative, I didn't feel like it was mine. It sounds stupid, but it's true. So I changed the color and made it mine. Now I can work here. That's the bottom line. So live with it.”

“I'm trying to live with it, Julia,” he said, wrapping his hand around her finger to stop her from jabbing at him. “But don't expect me to roll over and let you change everything that's mine, just because you…” He hesitated.

“Oh, don't stop now,” she said, inches from his face.

But he had to stop.
Everything that's mine,
he'd just said. Damn. She was right. His house was
their
house now. And she needed to feel comfortable here. He'd get used to the new refrigerator. And why did he care what color the kitchen walls were? He didn't, but Julia did. And looking around, he could see that it actually did look better, lighter, brighter in here now.

Besides, her scent was driving him nuts. Why were they fighting? He couldn't remember, but one thing was for certain. He was a fool to start a fight when he'd been traveling for seventy-two hours straight.

“Why don't you put stickers on anything that's yours,”
she continued angrily. “Never mind, we'll just assume
every
thing's yours.”

He moved a half inch closer and took a deep breath. “You smell like flowers. And lemons.”

“Don't change the subject,” she chided, then added defensively, “I made lemonade.”

His eyes narrowed in on her. “I like lemonade.”

He had her cornered against the chrome door of the ultra-modern refrigerator. She tried to edge sideways. “I'm going to bed.”

“Not yet.” He held her shoulders to keep her close. “You forgot something.”

“What?”

“This,” he said, and kissed her, his mouth taking hers in a rush of heat and an explosion of taste and need.

When she groaned, he lifted her up onto the counter. Sliding his hands up the insides of her thighs, he spread her legs. Then he pulled her closer to the edge and knelt before her.