The Wedding Planners

She went down on her knees in front of her daughter and pulled her close with one hand as she reached for Lily with the other. “Santa came last year. You just didn’t see him.”

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Mom,” Rose said, far too grown-up for Natalie’s comfort. “The presents are from you and Grandma in Arizona. I can tell. Santa always brought big stuff.”

Oh, yes, Justin bought out the local toystore every year. “Well, big or not, lady, we always have Christmas.”

“It’s not about the stuff, anyway, is it, Mommy?” Lily, the peacemaker spoke up.

“No, sweetie, Christmas is not about the stuff.” Though Justin had spoiled both her and the girls, Natalie had tried hard to teach them the real meaning of Christmas. Money may be tight now, but she wanted them to know how blessed they were. “Which reminds me. The three of us need to decide our Christmas project for this year. Shall we save pennies for the Salvation Army bell ringers? Pick an angel from the angel tree? Bake cakes for the homeless shelter? Your choice.”

Rose and Lily screwed their identical faces into expressions of deep thought.

Finally, Lily asked, “If we bake cakes, will you let us help?”

The question took Natalie aback. Let them help? Two monkeys in her kitchen? “I don’t know, girls. Let me give it some thought.”

“We’ll be real careful. We won’t stick our fingers in the icing or anything.”

“Or lick the spoon,” Lily put in.

“Or nothing gross like that. We’re not little kids anymore.”

Natalie suppressed a smile. She had to love their independent spirits. She of all people should understand what it felt like to be told she couldn’t do something. Justin had never wanted her to work, never thought she could handle the pressure of doing anything because of her diabetes. In his macho, overprotective way, he’d stolen her independence. She’d felt loved instead of insulted, but after his death, she’d only felt helpless.

“You know, I think you girls are right.”

The twins exchanged wide-eyed glances. “We are?”

“Uh-huh. But you will have to promise not to touch anything that I’m working on for the business. Deal?”

They both nodded solemnly, saying in unison. “Deal.”

“High-fives all around?”

The three slapped high-fives before Natalie grabbed them into a bear hug, tumbling onto the floor for a shower of kisses. Lord, how she loved her babies.

The timer went off again and she untangled herself from the pile of arms and legs to answer the call. She had tester cakes to bake for several brides with appointments at Belle’s on Monday and a cake to decorate for a baby shower tomorrow.

Suddenly friends again, the twins dashed off to make Christmas plans while she got busy. Multitasking was her middle name. Two cakes in the ancient oven, another in progress on the counter, clothes in a basket to be folded and lunch still to be prepared. Her day never ended, but she could deal with that. At least she was making her own way, not being a pretty parasite on a man’s arm.

As she shut the dishwasher with her foot while adding food coloring to six different bowls of frosting, Lily let out a yelp just as the doorbell chimed. Natalie jumped, splattering red down the front of her sweater onto the top of her foot.

The doorbell ding-donged again.

Rose streaked into sight. “I’ll get it, Mom.”

“Don’t open that door,” she warned.

Too late. A blast of artic air sucked the warm, toasty fragrance of caramel pecan cheesecake out into the frigid Saturday afternoon.

“Rose!” she yelled, frustrated that her daughter could never remember to peek before opening. A serial killer would have no problem gaining entrance into this house.

She came around the row of tables piled with her baking tools just as Rose remembered her instructions and tried to shut the door again. A gloved hand shot out, palm up, to brace the door open.

A jolt of concern raced up Natalie’s back. That was a man’s hand. Black leather gloves. No fingerprints.

Rushing now to protect her child, she stumbled over the basket of clothes in the living room and pitched forward, catching her hip on the coffee table.

“That’ll leave a mark,” a deep voice said.

She looked up to find Cooper Sullivan now inside her house, once again sliding an arm around her waist to lead her to a chair. She felt small and helpless and protected.

“This is starting to be a habit.”

Natalie didn’t like feeling helpless. Been there, done that.

“This is starting to be ridiculous,” she said, scowling at Rose. “Shut that door, Rose Isabella, and go to your room.”

The two names rolled off her tongue with ease. She’d said them far more times than Lily Alexandra.

Rose obeyed, her look of chagrin indicating she knew when to make an exit.

Natalie needed to rub her hip bone but not in front of Cooper. What was he doing here, anyway?

“Cooper,” she said, through gritted teeth. “What a surprise.”

A low rumble of laughter. “Maybe I should have called first.”

“Maybe.”

“I could leave.”

“No, of course not. Don’t be silly.” It wasn’t his fault her heart was beating too fast and she’d made a fool of herself in his presence—again. “Take off your coat and have a seat. I’ll be recovered in a moment.”

She gave up and rubbed the smarting hip.

“You’re going to have a bruise,” he said as he slipped out of his coat and draped the long garment over the back of the couch. “Want me to have a look?”

Raising her eyes, she shot him a glare intended to melt iron. He laughed. “Maybe some ice instead?”

“I don’t have the patience to sit still that long.”

“Still the fidgety type?”

“My teachers called it hyperactive.”

He chuckled again and she relaxed the slightest bit. Seeing Cooper brought back a lot of memories and not all of them were bad. In fact, most of them weren’t bad. That was the biggest problem with having him show up at her house looking all handsome and manly. Well, that and the lovely dreams.

“How did you know where I live?”

He shrugged. “I called your boss.”

“Belle would never give out my personal information to a stranger.”

“She saw us dancing together at the Craggins’ wedding.”

“Oh.” Belle had better not be playing matchmaker. She knew Natalie didn’t date, hadn’t even considered dating since Justin’s death. Now that she was an independent woman, she planned to stay that way.

“Don’t worry. I told her we were old friends.” He tilted his head toward her. Melting snowflakes glistened in his black hair. “We are still friends, aren’t we?”

Now she felt silly and downright inhospitable. “Of course we are. It’s good to see you again.”

Really. It was. If only she didn’t have this bizarre chemical reaction every time he came near. At the Craggins’ wedding, she’d blamed it on an insulin reaction, though she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind even when her blood sugar was perfectly normal. Today she had no excuse at all. But she wanted an excuse because the alternative meant admitting that Cooper made her…feel things.

And she didn’t want to…feel things.

The heavenly scent of caramel cake once more wafted through the house. Thank goodness.

“Excuse me a minute, Cooper. I have to check my cakes.” She hopped up, maneuvering around the basket and toys.

Cooper followed her into the narrow kitchen, his masculine presence filling the room. Natalie tried not to notice. No male in her age range had ever been in this kitchen.

“Don’t let me interrupt anything. I just came by to…” His voice drifted off as his gaze fell to her feet. “You’re bleeding.”

“I am?” She looked down at the red liquid sliding between her toes and started to giggle. “Doctor, that is not blood.”

She grabbed a paper towel and wiped her foot clean. “See? All fine now. The miracle of being a mom. We can turn blood to food coloring.”

“Thank goodness. I was beginning to wonder how you survive alone.”

He’d meant it as a joke, so Natalie tried not to be offended, but the words were exactly the kind of thing Justin would have said. She was fragile, sickly, unable to take care of herself.

Tempted to ask why he’d tracked her down, Natalie instead said, “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sounds good if it’s already made. Don’t go to extra trouble.”

“I always have coffee going on a cold day.” She poured him a cup and handed it to him. “And soup in the crock pot.”

There was something deliciously unsettling about having Cooper Sullivan in her kitchen. He gave her the willies, in a good way. Not that she was interested, but any woman would notice Cooper’s looks and class and overt sexuality, especially a woman who had barely even thought about sex in two years.

“Smart mom.” He sipped, eyes twinkling at her over the rim.

To settle her jitters, Natalie grabbed the bowl of frosting and got back to work. “I hope you don’t mind but I have a cake to decorate. The customer’s coming for it tonight at six.”

“Can I help?”

The idea of pediatric surgeon Cooper Sullivan helping her decorate anything brought a giggle. “You can taste the icings for me.”

Both eyebrows shot up hopefully. “As in more than one?”

“Uh-huh. Six or eight. I haven’t decided yet. I’m creating as I go. My friend Julie is getting married and we’re planning a big fancy bash. I’m creating something special just for her.” She shoved a tasting spoon toward him. “Try this. Too sweet? Enough vanilla bean? Be honest now.”

He took the spoon and nibbled, rolling the thick, creamy frosting around his mouth as he would a good sip of wine. After serious consideration, a stunning smile broke over his face. Oh, my. All her head alarms started going off. He was too hunky, too close, too everything.

“This is awesome,” he said around that dazzling smile. “Julie, whoever she is, will love it.”

It was only cake icing, something she made all the time, but his compliment thrilled her unduly. “Then try this other one.”

“Let me clear my palate with coffee.”

She widened her eyes at him and giggled. “By all means, clear the palate.”

She shoved a second and then a third type of frosting in his direction. He made silly, witty, and astute comments, always asking for just one more teeny bite. Taste testing with Cooper was far more fun than the frequent tastings she forced upon the other Belles.

“You know what would be even better?” he said after the third opinion was issued.

“What? Orange peel? Lemon zest?”

His grin teased. “Cake. You could run a little cake under these frostings and let me try again. I promise to give a learned, if somewhat biased, opinion.”

She’d forgotten what a fun guy Cooper could be, so different from his serious physician side. Her alarms stopped clanging. There was nothing threatening about an old friend having cake in her kitchen. She needed to get over herself.

“Let him eat cake,” she proclaimed dramatically and opened the holding bin to display rows and rows of tiny bite-size cakes. “These are fresh, made for brides to taste test next week. I always take extras for the other Belles.”

“What kind of bells are we talking about here? Jingle bells? Church bells? And they eat cake?”

With a lifter, she scooped several cake bites onto a saucer. “My coworkers. We’re called the Belles, as in Wedding Bells but with a Southern flair. The other girls serve as my official testers since I can’t try the sweets myself.”

“Brutal if you ask me, to be a cake maker who can’t eat cake. Why didn’t you become something less tempting?”

“Long story.”

He shrugged a sweater-clad shoulder. “I have time.”

“No surgery today? I thought surgeons worked day and night.”

“Only by choice. The brutal days are in residency. Once in private practice we get to have lives. At least within reason.”

For a minute the words stabbed like pinpricks. Justin had never made it this far. He’d never had time for a regular life. He’d worked such crazy hours and even when he could have been sleeping, he’d chosen to ride his motorcycle or play golf or sail. If he got three hours of sleep out of twenty-four, he considered himself rested. Now she knew how foolish that idea had been. He’d been running on three hours sleep the day he’d missed that stop sign.

“When Justin died, I needed a way to support myself and the twins so I started baking cakes.”

“You never finished your degree?”

“No.” Much to her regret, she’d quit college to take a minimum-wage job when she and Justin had first married. Then when his residency had begun, she’d gotten pregnant. When her diabetes had gone crazy and landed her on bed rest to save the twins, Justin had freaked out. She’d been scared, too, and wanted to stay home with her babies. “When the girls were two, I convinced Justin to let me take a cake decorating class.”

“Convinced him?”

“Oh, he didn’t mind if I had a hobby, but he worried about my health. Afraid I couldn’t handle the load because of my sometimes unpredictable diabetes.” She grimaced at the sad irony. “He’d be surprised at how wrong he was.”

Cooper propped a hip on her kitchen counter and looked at her for a long moment. In a quiet voice he asked, “Have things been that difficult for you?”

The kindness in his tone rattled her. Normally she didn’t share her worries with anyone but Regina or Belle. “A little.”

“What about Justin’s insurance?”

She scooted the saucer across the countertop.

“He didn’t have any.”

Cooper’s long, talented fingers paused on an inch cube of Italian cream cake. “None?”

“He kept intending to get some. After he died I found an application on his desk.” She shrugged one shoulder. It was all a moot point now.

“That sucks.”

At the blunt and un-Cooperlike assessment, she smiled. “I think I may have said that a few million times in the past two years.”

A beat of silence passed. Then Cooper reached across the narrow space between them and tilted her chin, meeting her gaze with his earnest one. “I’m really sorry, Nat. Justin was a good man. He wouldn’t have done anything to purposely hurt you. He was crazy about you.”

Tears prickled the backs of her eyelids. She’d long since passed the point of unquenchable grief, and most of the time she was just plain mad at Justin for having left her alone. But Cooper’s compassion was both unexpected and touching.

“Crazy being the operative word,” she murmured, trying to keep her mind on the conversation and off the warm strength of Cooper’s fingers. Off the random thought that she could smell his cologne. Off the reminder that she’d once entertained romantic thoughts about him.

Something shifted in the caramel-scented air. Cooper pushed away from the counter, eyes never leaving her face.

Her heart set up a thunder dance, and her mind raced like two hamsters on a Ferris wheel. What was he doing? Why was he moving toward her with that wild glint in his eyes? Was he going to hug her? Comfort her? Kiss her?

Before she could find out, a feral growl from somewhere behind them ripped through the kitchen.

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