Chapter Six
Unlike the previous night where Daisy was jabbed and poked from various child-size limbs, last night she’d had the entire bed to herself, which had felt decidedly decadent. Even so, instead of the sleep of the dead as she would have expected after the day she’d had, it had been anything but restful as she remembered flashes of blue eyes and a smile from a man who she now called her fiancé.
Needless to say, when the morning sun crept into her room just after seven, instead of digging farther under the soft covers, she’d checked on the kids—all sleeping soundly—before jumping into the shower.
Now, her hair still damp, her usual touch of makeup on to brighten her face, she headed downstairs, needing to find some release for her nervous energy. At home, when she felt like this, she usually would whip up a loaf of some sort of flavorful bread, as she found the kneading of the dough always helped her relax. She’d take a look at the supplies Payton had left for her to see what she might find, otherwise maybe she’d head to the store and—
Damn. That’s right. Her car was still in the shop and would be—according to the guy—probably through Wednesday, the day after the holiday.
The heady aroma of coffee filled her nose as she arrived in the kitchen.
For a moment, her belly tightened in nervousness and excitement as she wondered whether Jack was already up and taking another run out on the beach, his damp shirt clinging to broad shoulders and a firm chest—
Rein it in, Daisy.
Sheesh, it was like she was losing her ever-loving mind. It’s not like she’d never seen a good-looking man before. Although, it had been a while since she’d met one whose attractiveness paled in comparison to a quick wit and equally generous heart. Someone whose conversation she found …nice.
She considered last night’s conversation, which had been surprisingly low-key and also strangely exhilarating. And even though she had been certain they would have almost nothing to talk about, both coming from such diverse backgrounds, she’d been happily surprised by how much he genuinely wanted to know about her.
She, on the other hand, had just been relieved she’d managed to keep her tongue in her mouth the entire night and had kept up a naturally paced conversation. Especially since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone with someone of the opposite sex—at least someone who wasn’t related to her.
Or when she’d spent almost every moment of a conversation wondering whether someone’s mouth would taste as sweet as the marshmallows he was popping down, his tongue taking way too long to lick the corners of his mouth where some invisible marshmallow cream had gotten to.
After grabbing a mug from the shelves, she filled it with coffee and went to the window, hoping to catch a view perhaps of her fiancé racing down the beach.
Daisy stopped short when she spotted Aunt Glenda and Jack Harrison chatting on the deck, a plate of yesterday’s lemon curd poppy-seed muffins sitting between them.
Good Lord. Her too chatty and prone to oversharing aunt had been left with Jack unsupervised? In alarm, Daisy raced to the door and went out to greet them.
“There you are. Good morning,” her aunt said, her eyes twinkling in their usual mischievous way.
“Morning,” she returned, sneaking a glance at Jack.
In a long-sleeved navy crewneck, his usually smooth jawline peppered with the growth from the previous day, he looked more rugged than the polished image he normally portrayed. It should have been a relief to her nerves, but instead only seemed to up his sexy factor by a hundred and ten.
His smile was easy and immediate. “Hope you slept well,” he said, almost in a tone that made her wonder if he realized just how fitful it had been.
“I did, thanks.”
Ollie, who’d been snoozing by Jack’s chair, came bounding over to greet her. She set her coffee on the table and bent down, looking into big brown eyes that stared back at her so adoringly. He really was cute, even if around his nose, there was a faint odor of eau de skunk. Finally, she stood and picked up her coffee before taking the seat next to Glenda.
“You just missed Stuart’s call,” Jack said. “It seems that since the governor’s formal announcement and our brief press conference yesterday, people have been responding favorably to the news of our engagement.”
“How on earth could he possibly know that?” Daisy asked incredulously.
He shrugged. “There are people who do random polling as part of the campaign. It’s a little early, so we won’t know more for a few days, but at least the early indications seem to be positive.” He cast a furtive glance at her aunt, almost as if the two of them had already been discussing this. “Stuart thinks that we need to capitalize on that support immediately.”
Daisy had known this would be part of it, the publicity, but it didn’t make it easier to willingly put her and the kids out in the public eyes for scrutiny and comment. “What exactly does he have in mind?”
“For starters, he was able to wrangle up tickets for the two of us to attend a local black-tie charity event tomorrow night. It benefits organizations that work with kids with autism within the community.”
“And before you say it, you don’t have to worry about the kids,” Glenda said, patting her arm. “I’m more than happy to keep an eye on them for you. Besides, how often can anyone say they’ve had the luxury of going to a ball? It’s going to be so exciting.”
A ball? Black tie? The fanciest thing that she had packed was a bright yellow sundress. Hardly something that would be appropriate. “Not to be a downer, but I don’t have anything remotely close to black-tie ready.”
“I’ve already got that under control, too,” Glenda said, winking conspiratorially at Jack. “I spoke with Payton just ten minutes ago and she’s having three of her own dresses overnighted so you don’t have to worry about spending a penny on it.”
More charity. Damn.
Not seeing really much choice, she nodded in resignation. “Okay. I guess since you two have it all figured out.”
“Cheer up, my dear,” her aunt said, taking a sip of her coffee. “It’s not every day a woman gets escorted to a ball by someone as handsome as our own future governor. Or gets to pretend they’re engaged to him, for that matter. You know, you’re going to have to start practicing for your big public debut. Maybe you two should pucker up for a minute, without the added pressure of all those cameras. I’m sure I could give you two some tips, just to make sure you can sell this thing.”
Glenda sounded a lot more excited about that proposal than she should be, and Daisy couldn’t help but laugh, even as she kept her gaze from Jack. “I don’t think it’s going to come to that.”
“You never know, and I’d hate for your first kiss to be awkward or stilted,” her aunt pushed.
“And kissing each other while you’re evaluating us is going to be less awkward?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said slowly. “She might have a point.”
Daisy whipped her head toward Jack, who was grinning widely. It took her a moment to realize, after he and Glenda burst into laughter like two old cronies, that they were both teasing her. At least, she was pretty sure they were teasing her.
But she was feeling oddly warm and embarrassed now as both of them stared at her, and she fought the urge to bolt. What she needed was some time to think and get herself in the right state of mind for all this.
Breakfast. That’s what she should get started on.
She could whip up some French toast or waffles, maybe prep dough for some rolls for later tonight. “I think I probably should get started on breakfast.”
She left them to finish their coffee, avoiding Jack’s gaze, and returned to the kitchen.
It took her a few minutes to grab all the ingredients she’d need and set them on the counter. She ripped open a package of bacon, separated the slices, and put them in the large pan before turning to the waffles.
She grabbed the flour and measured it out, then took a moment to sift it before she added the baking powder. The French doors opened again and Jack was there.
“Can I help with anything?”
“I’ve got it,” she said, barely looking up. “This is one thing I can do all on my own.”
Well, except for the fact that Payton had technically paid for all the ingredients she was using.
“Of course you can. But I would still like to help. Here,” he said, setting down a sheaf of paper. “I took the liberty of adding my information in the guarantor section. It’s your loan application,” he explained. “I already spoke to my accountant and he’s willing to review everything and submit the final package directly. And before you object to his help, let’s look at it as something I insist upon, making sure we’re doing everything legally and without conflict considering my position.”
She nodded, not seeing any point in arguing since his reasoning was valid.
Her gaze went to the papers, her chest suddenly tight with excitement.
This is really going to happen.
He was watching her, smiling and nodding. “You probably should start thinking of some names for your new bakery, if you haven’t already.”
“Not really,” she said vaguely, biting down a round of laughter that desperately wanted out.
Of course she had thought about names, somewhere in the dark reaches of her mind several names had popped up for consideration these past few years, even though she never thought anything would really ever come of it.
Until now.
Brimming with anticipation and confidence, she grabbed the carton of eggs, and she found satisfaction in the cracking of the shells against the counter as she added them to another bowl, one by one.
He headed over to the stove where the bacon was beginning to sizzle. “How about I take care of the bacon and you cover everything else.”
She glanced up in surprise that his request to help had been actually sincere. Leo’s idea of helping her with breakfast had been calling the kids to eat. But this guy…he seemed determined to help. Realizing it would be foolish to refuse, she nodded and pulled out the waffle iron she’d come across yesterday looking for the muffin tins.
Jack stood over the pan, a fork in his hand ready to flip the bacon. “Waffles, huh. I can’t say I’ve ever enjoyed homemade waffles—unless you count Eggos. Those Lily and I eat pretty regularly.”
“I may or may not be guilty of having a box of the same in my freezer at home,” Daisy said and smiled. “For those rushed mornings.” Eggs in, she grabbed the milk and vegetable oil next, adding them to the eggs. “So this upcoming campaign. Are you expecting a lot of competition? I mean, you’re a Republican in a pretty red state, isn’t it a given that you’ll win?”
Jack smiled, pausing as he lifted a piece of bacon to look at the bottom before flipping it over. “From the way you said ‘Republican,’ I’m going to assume you’re a Democrat, something I wouldn’t recommend mentioning to Stuart unless you want to give him an aneurism.”
“I’m not any party really. I vote with the candidate who’s most in line with my own values. However,” she added, glancing up at him. “Governor Pratchett did not have my vote in the last election, and I’ll say as much if I’m asked.”
“Let’s hope that maybe I can win you over.” There was something in the way he said it, almost insinuating something more, much more, that brought her gaze to his again.
And just like that, a wave of heat from somewhere south of her belly had her knees nearly buckling.
He was just talking about your vote, Daisy. Get a grip.
Pulling her gaze from his, she returned her attention to the bowl in front of her. She forced her hands to steady as she measured the sugar and sifted it into the flour.
They worked in an easy silence until, a few minutes later, the pattering of feet overhead told her the kids were stirring.
“Morning, Mommy,” Natalie said, the first to arrive in her pink butterfly-covered nightgown, her hair ratted in the back from sleeping on it when it was still damp. Daisy stopped what she was doing, bent down to squeeze Natalie first, and then Paul—whose hair wasn’t much better, before he threw himself in her arms.
“What are we doing today?” he asked after she put him back down. He wandered over to see what Jack was doing. “Are we going to go sailing?”
“Actually, honey, I think we’re doing some other things today…” Daisy started, trying to remember what Stuart had on the agenda. Wasn’t it something about lunch at an outdoor café for a photo op?
“Do you want to go sailing?” Jack asked as he slid each piece of bacon onto a paper towel-covered plate.
“I’ve never been on a boat. My friend Aiden has one and he and his dad go fishing on it all the time. My dad doesn’t fish.” He added this last part so wistfully that Daisy’s heart squeezed a bit.
“Well, here’s what I’m thinking,” Jack continued. “Why don’t we eat breakfast, then we can pack a picnic before we head out for a day of sailing on the lake. Maybe even do a little fishing of our own if you want. We can eat on the boat, or we could go inland and have lunch on the beach. Your call.”
“We can go fishing? Really?” Paul asked, his brown eyes wide and shining with excitement.
“If it’s okay with your mom.”
Daisy smiled at her son as a wave of gratitude toward Jack for making her son’s entire day surged through her.
“I don’t know,” she teased. “Who’s going to be doing all the gutting and deboning of those fish?”
“A true fisherman does it himself,” Jack said.
“I want to take guts out!” Natalie said, wanting in on the conversation.
“On that note,” Daisy said. “Why don’t you two set the table, and then run upstairs and get the older girls.”
With everyone occupied with their tasks, Daisy grabbed the coffeepot and refilled their cups. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
He nodded and, lifting his coffee, gave her that poster board, heart-stopping grin that made breathing almost impossible.
Danger, Daisy Sorensen.
She looked away, taking a breath.
Busy work. That’s what she needed.
Something to ground her. Remind her that fairy tales weren’t real.
That the witty handsome prince always ended up with a princess—something she most definitely was not.
No matter how much this place almost—almost, tried to make her believe it was possible.
…
“That is so gross,” Lily said from her perch on the bench aboard the sailboat as she watched Jack teach Paul and Natalie to bait their hooks. “I’m not eating fish, I don’t care how many you catch.”
Jenna sat as far away from Lily as she could, looking just as disgusted.
“You used to love fishing with me,” Jack said, remembering the days when Lily was about Natalie’s age, her hair in braids and a wide smile, happy to hang with her dad.
His daughter rolled her eyes. “That was ages ago before I had a life. And, apparently, a working sense of smell.”
“How about you, Jenna?” he asked. “Do you want to give it a try?”
“No thanks. Are you sure you’re not hurting them?” she asked, staring at the worms writhing on the end of their line.
“Not in the least.”
He didn’t point out that soon they’d be fish food anyway. He glanced at Daisy, who was holding a rod alongside her two youngest. Her long hair drawn back in a braid, white pants rolled up mid-calf, and a white tee covered with a red flannel shirt, she looked sexy and carefree, her smiles coming more easily.
Their security watch for today was sitting at the back, giving them their privacy, while Glenda was at the house on puppy-sitting duty, having claimed a propensity for seasickness.
“Careful with your hook, we don’t want to catch anyone’s hair,” he said as Paul’s came within a few inches of his sister. Jack demonstrated tilting his rod back behind his shoulder, looking to see them all following suit. “Okay, and with one quick movement in your wrists, we’re going to whip it out into the water. On three. One…two…and three.”
The zipper-like sound as they cast their lines filled the air. Well, all but one, since as he’d warned, Paul had managed to hook his…in his mom’s hair. Worm and all.
“Ouch. Ouch,” Daisy said, trying to find the end of the line. “Oh my God. Please tell me the worm is not in my hair.” Her voice had taken on an unnaturally high tone that told him she was doing her hardest not to freak out.
“Paul. Take my rod, and you two make sure your lines don’t cross. Here,” he said, reaching Daisy’s side, trying not to laugh even if the picture of her stuck on the end of the rod was a tiny bit funny.
“You’re not finding this amusing, are you?” she asked, giving him a side-eyed look.
“Never.” He tried to unthread the hook and line from her hair. “I’m going to need to take the braid out, is that okay?”
“Yes, fine, just get it out.”
He slipped the elastic from the bottom and pulled his fingers through the heavy softness to break up the plaits before returning to focus on the hook. Only, with the massive amount of hair she had, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t making things worse. Then there was the fact that even though the smell of fish bait had filled his nose moments ago, it was hard to miss the fresh, fruity smell of strawberries that wafted from Daisy’s dark tresses.
When the thought had passed his mind a time or two of what it would feel like to run his fingers through this mass, he hadn’t imagined he’d be digging out a wiggling worm as did so. He choked back a laugh.
“I can hear you laughing,” she said in a warning voice.
“Sorry. I’m going to have to cut the line. Hold on.” He squatted and dug around for the pocketknife he kept in his fishing box.
There.
Flicking his wrist, he opened it, and the blade caught the sunlight.
Daisy’s eyes were wide as she saw it. “You know what you’re doing?”
“For the most part.” He cut the end closest to the hook and let the pole drop to the deck. To save her from further worry, he pulled the worm from the hook and tossed it into the water. “Worm’s gone. Now, just another minute…”
It was strangely intoxicating standing so close to Daisy, his leg occasionally bumping against hers as the boat rocked idly over each wave. Her breathing was a little unsteady and he wondered if the effect was caused by the once wiggling worm caught in her hair…or from him.
It took a minute to finally retrieve the hook and he held it up for her approval. “There. You’re free.”
She took a step back. “Thanks. And I think on that note, I’m going to safely watch the three of you fishing from”—she waved her hand toward the older girls—“over there.”
Jack watched as she moved a little unsteadily across the deck, her hips swinging softy, before catching himself.
He wasn’t seriously ogling a single mom in front of not just her three kids, but his own daughter as well, was he?
He pulled his attention back to Natalie and Paul who had the cutest expressions on their faces as they watched the lines completely enthralled.
“Am I holding it right?” Paul asked.
It was hard to miss the need for approval in his tone.
“You’re doing perfect. You both are. We’ll just be sure to work on your casting the next time.” Jack added another mark against the guy who not only let a woman like Daisy get away, but who clearly didn’t see the value in spending time with his own kids.
He glanced back at Daisy, who had been watching them with a strange smile on her face, but at meeting his eyes, looked quickly away.
“What are you working on, Lily?” she asked, gazing down at the iPad in his daughter’s hands.
Without taking her attention from the screen, Lily explained the latest game she’d installed and how to earn bonus points. Jenna, he noticed, had tried to keep her gaze on the drawing she was doing in a sketchpad, but was now craning her head past her mom to see.
“Don’t you play this game on my phone, too, Jenna?” Daisy asked.
Reluctantly, Jenna nodded. “Sometimes.”
“Have you gotten to the seventh level?” Lily asked.
“The one with the crossbows and limestone? Yep.”
Jack had no clue what they were talking about, but it was hard to miss the sudden interest the two were sharing as Daisy stood. “Here, Jenna. Switch with me,” she said, easily maneuvering the girls next to each other.
Jenna slid over to see the screen a little better. “Make sure you get the griffin.”
Lily didn’t say anything as she continued to play, but after a minute, she grinned. “Thanks.”
Natalie suddenly squealed, getting all of their attention. “Something’s pulling on my string. I think I have a fish!”
Sure enough, the line was pulling, causing the tip of the rod to bow. Jack grinned at her excitement before securing his pole and heading over to help her reel in the first catch of the day.
He shared a look with Daisy, who appeared just as pleased that the ploy worked.
Maybe this outing was going to be fruitful in more ways than one.