“Don’t get angry.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. I hear it in your voice. I’m not telling you what to do, Rae. I’m just pointing out that you have some pretty aggressive and time-consuming plans. I know you’ll do right by the baby. I guess I’m wondering how you’ll make time for us?”
Rae blinked.
“You know what? Forget I asked. That was … never mind. I’m not myself tonight. This thing with Dad. I should go.”
“Luke.”
“Did you scope out any rental properties today?”
Off balance now, Rae palmed her forehead. “Although that had been my plan, no. The day got away from me.”
“Good. Hold off.”
“Why?”
“I hope to be back by Wednesday. Just hold off.”
“Okay.”
“I love it when you say that.”
And just like that Rae sensed a change in Luke’s mood. She smiled a little, arched a brow. “You love it when I say ‘okay’? Why?”
“Mostly when you say it to me, it means you’re putting your faith in me. Trusting my judgment. My abilities.”
She frowned now. “Why would I doubt—”
“I know you know about my reading problem.”
Rae pushed off of the pillows, shocked and primed by the turn in conversation.
“Are you going to pretend otherwise?”
“No. That is, I suspected.” Rae licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. “I have a stepbrother who struggled with dyslexia. Plus part of my studies involved the complexities of learning disabilities,” she said straight on. “I picked up on signs most people wouldn’t. You cope well.”
“If by cope you mean I hide it well, then yes. I do. It’s always been enough for me. But now … now I worry it won’t be enough for you. Or our child.”
“Luke—”
“Regardless of my … challenge, I can take care of you, Rae, and our baby. When I said you could afford to be a stay-at-home mom, I wasn’t thinking about your fortune. I’m a hard worker and more than capable of being a good provider.”
Her heart swelled and ached knowing his pride was taking a monumental hit. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
“I just wanted to get it out there.”
“Okay.”
He laughed a little. “Did you say that on purpose?”
“Yes.” She hugged a pillow to her aching chest, wishing she could hug Luke instead. “I can help you. If you want. I just need to know what type—”
“Visual.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. Not trauma or primary. “I can definitely help.”
“I appreciate that, but … I have to tell you that would be hell on the ego.”
“Not me then. Someone else. You can tackle this, Luke.” His silence quickened her pulse. She knew enough not to push. Not now. That he’d admitted the problem at all was huge. “How about we leave off for now and discuss this more in person?”
“That won’t come easy for me.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
After a moment, Luke said, “I should let you get some sleep.”
“It’s been a full day, that’s for sure.” She scraped her teeth over her lower lip, praying she was handling this right. She knew his disability didn’t necessarily factor into business sense, but did he? Generally those who suffered dyslexia were highly intuitive. Uber street-smart. “Luke?”
“Yeah.”
“When you get back, I was hoping I could get your two cents on Sugar Tots. My meeting went well at the bank and if everything goes smoothly the day care center will be mine—lock, stock, and barrel—by month’s end. I’ve never owned a business. You run one of the most successful establishments in town. I’d appreciate your input.”
“You don’t have to patronize—”
“I’m not.”
“All right. First thought? Change the name. You mentioned launching after-school programs for older kids. I can tell you right now, if I were a ten-year-old boy, I wouldn’t be keen on spending my afternoons at a place called Sugar Tots.”
“Good point.” Truly it was. “Any suggestions?”
“Not off the top of my head. Maybe we can brainstorm when I get home.”
“Sounds good.” She tamped down a whirlwind of emotions, thinking this would be a good place to stop for the night. “I’ll say a prayer for your dad.”
“I appreciate that. Goodnight, Reagan.”
“Goodnight, Luke.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Rae spotted the first photographer around noon. He didn’t get in her face. In fact he was pretty far away and for all she knew he could’ve been taking a picture of the white-steepled church or quaint storefronts. Sugar Creek, with its old-fashioned brick facades and Americana charm was beautiful in any season. Mid-February and the roof of every building as well as the branches of the trees were blanketed in snow. Frosty windowpanes were framed with twinkling white lights. A good many of the antiques shops, art galleries, and specialty boutiques offered displays featuring hearts and flowers, chubby cupids, sleek statues of kissing couples, and assorted romantic images. It was the month of love, after all.
Yes, indeed. It was possible that the photographer was an amateur, a tourist snapping shots of the town he’d chosen for his holiday getaway. She just happened to walk into the frame.
But Rae’s prickling hair follicles told her different.
She told herself not to panic. Not to avoid and not to engage. This is what she’d wanted, right? Free publicity for the Cupcake Lovers. A way and means to build buzz around their recipe book? It’s just that she hadn’t expected action so soon. Especially since she’d yet to broadcast her whereabouts. Although maybe Brett had tipped off the media. Except that meeting with the Highlife marketing department wasn’t taking place until later today. He wouldn’t jump the gun, would he?
Get a grip, Deveraux.
Seriously, if she couldn’t withstand one innocuous guy with a camera, what would she do when the paparazzi flocked. If they flocked. Maybe she had a skewed vision of her potential popularity. Maybe the media wouldn’t give two hoots about the daughter of a B-movie actress who intended to use her fortune to promote cupcakes and early education. Now that she thought about it her goodwill mission wasn’t nearly as titillating as the wild antics and illegal shenanigans of any number of infamous celebrity kids.
Hunching her shoulders against the blustery winds, Rae shoved that photographer from her mind and hurried toward Romancing the Stone, an artisan shop featuring handcrafted jewelry by Casey Monahan. Casey had been one of the first people Rae had met last year when she’d first settled in Sugar Creek. Although Rae had pretended to be someone else, she had been honest about certain aspects of her life. Like having a brother (albeit stepbrother) stationed in the Middle East. Something she had in common with Casey and one of the reasons Casey had invited Rae to check out the Cupcake Lovers. Rae had been hooked after one visit. Casey had been as good of a friend as Rachel had allowed, and Rae hadn’t seen the quirky artisan since she’d returned to Sugar Creek. Up until late last night, Casey had been out of town.
The bell above the door tinkled and a warm blanket of air enveloped Rae as soon as she stepped inside. The shop was just as she remembered. Small, tidy, and creative. Beautiful jewelry displayed in imaginative ways. As always, the room smelled of evergreen.
Casey popped into view, straightening from a stooped position behind her front-of-house workstation. She took in Rae’s makeover and smiled. “Wow. Just wow.”