Delectable Desire (19 page)

“Delaney is quite the artist,” Carter said. “She wants to draw real cartoons when she grows up, not the computer ones, right?”

The little girl nodded.

“Have you ever taken an art class?” Lorraine asked as she continued to study the sketches.

“No, but I didn’t trace those,” Delaney was quick to defend. “I drew them myself.”

“Oh, I believe you. I used to do pencil sketches such as these when I was in school. I would get in trouble, because I usually drew them during math class.”

Delaney scrunched up her face. “I hate math.”

“I know the feeling.” Lorraine grinned in agreement.

“Hello, hello, hello.” A woman dressed in pink scrubs entered the room, pushing a wheelchair. “It’s time for someone’s therapy.”

Delaney’s face scrunched up in the same way it had when she’d spoken of her dislike of math. “Can I finish my cupcake first?” she asked.

The nurse nodded, and Delaney took a mouse-size nibble of the cupcake she had been scarfing down just a moment ago.

“Don’t try that trick,” the nurse said. “You’ve got one minute to finish that cupcake.”

The little girl frowned and stuffed the rest of the cupcake into her mouth. A moment later, the nurse removed the sheet covering Delaney’s bottom half. Lorraine let out a gasp. The little girl’s legs were so scarred and mangled, they were almost unrecognizable as human limbs. It was unlike anything Lorraine had ever seen.

“It’s okay,” Delaney said. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lorraine said, feeling horribly insensitive. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay.” Carter repeated Delaney’s words. “We’re used to it. And Delaney here is going to be okay. Those legs will be good as new soon, right?”

She gave Carter a thumbs-up.

“I’ll see you next month,” Carter told her.

“Bring the peanut butter and chocolate cupcakes next time,” she told him before she was wheeled out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, Lorraine dropped into the room’s lone chair and cradled her face in her hands. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about that,” Carter said. “I reacted the same way the first time I saw her burns. Unfortunately, Delaney is used to it.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Carter.” She fitted her fist against her lips. “That poor baby. What happened to her? Do you know?”

“Car fire,” Carter said. “Her legs were pinned. Those burns actually go halfway up her torso, though it was her lower half that got the worst of it. She’s had over twenty-five surgeries so far.”

“Oh, my God,” Lorraine gasped. She could not imagine what that poor child had endured.

“That’s not the hardest part,” Carter continued. “She lost both parents and her baby brother in the accident.”

“My goodness! How is she even functioning?”

Carter shrugged. “You know what they say—kids are resilient. Her doctors think that her drawing has been a good escape for her.”

“She’s remarkably talented, but honestly, Carter, how does she do it? I would be in a catatonic state for the rest of my life if I’d gone through such a horrific experience.”

“She’s a tough kid, and she knows she can get anything she wants from me. I’ll be back with peanut butter and chocolate cupcakes later today.”

“Is she going into foster care when she’s released from the hospital?” Lorraine asked, afraid to hear the answer. She could only imagine how scary this all must be for that sweet little girl.

“Her aunt and uncle have already been granted custody of her. They’ve all got a long road ahead of them, but they’re grateful for what they have. That accident could have had zero survivors.”

Lorraine remained in the chair, trying to wrap her brain around all that she’d learned in the past few minutes. She felt even more like a selfish, whiny brat for complaining these past few months over the state of her own life. Seeing these children today, realizing all they had had to endure in their short little lives already, humbled her beyond understanding.

“Are you ready?” Carter asked softly.

Lorraine nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She stopped in the doorway of Delaney’s room one last time, looking around at the stuffed animals and pink bedding. Someone, probably her aunt, had tried to make the room look as much like a little girl’s room as possible. She glanced once again at the pencil sketches on the walls, still blown away by the little girl’s talent.

“Come on,” Carter urged.

As he drove away from the hospital, Carter tried to engage her in conversation, but Lorraine wasn’t in a talkative mood. She couldn’t get Delaney, or any of the other children, out of her head. Some of them had been in that burn unit for months, enduring painful skin grafts and physical therapy, showing more strength than she’d had to summon in her entire life.

Seeing the way they faced their struggles with determination, some even with smiles on their faces, forced her to view her life through a different perspective.

They ended up at Carter’s apartment, snuggled together on his sofa, watching television. It had quickly become Lorraine’s favorite pastime, but tonight, she didn’t find as much joy in the sitcom they watched. Her mind was still too consumed by what she’d witnessed today. Not only could she not get the children out of her mind, but she kept seeing Carter interacting with them. It played like a movie reel in her mind.

A reality that was hard to swallow settled into Lorraine’s bones: her contribution to the world amounted to absolutely nothing. The truth sat like a weighty anchor in the pit of her stomach. She had always been taught that if there was ever a problem, just throw money at it. Problem solved.

But money meant very little to a young child confined to a bed, with more than half of her body burned. Those children didn’t need money; they needed care. They needed compassion. Sometimes they needed something as simple as a cupcake.

She wanted—no, she
needed
—to find a way to give back. She needed to find something more meaningful. Something that had nothing to do with throwing Hawthorne-Hayes money around.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Carter asked, pulling her closer to his side. “You’re too quiet.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just enjoying your company.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for coming with me to the hospital today.”

“Thank you for bringing me. It was...” She pulled in a deep breath. “Eye-opening.”

“It was hard,” Carter said. “It always is, no matter how many times I go.”

“It was, but my discomfort was nothing compared to what those kids go through.” She peered up at Carter from where she lay against his chest. “I know I’ve told you this before, but you need to hear it again. You are a good man, Carter Drayson. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

“And you are a remarkable, talented woman, Lorraine Hawthorne-Hayes. Remember that.” He kissed her lips. “And did I mention sexy?”

She laughed.

Lorraine settled back into the comfortable warmth his embrace created, wondering how she could ever have let her mother and that private investigator plant doubts into her head. It mattered not what Carter had done in the past. All that mattered was that the man she was with right now was one of the most loving, generous human beings she had ever encountered. That was enough for her.

Chapter 13

C
arter propped himself upon a stool at the kitchen island, arms braced apart, eyes focused on his now silent cell phone. He’d been anticipating the phone conversation he’d just had for weeks, but never in a million years did he think he’d feel this way afterward.

He’d just received the official offer to become the executive pastry chef for Robinson Restaurants Group’s flagship restaurant. How apropos that it would come just as he was about to drive over to the Drayson Estate to see his grandmother before heading to Lillian’s. Carter crossed out those plans. No way could he look into his grandmother’s eyes; she would see straight through him.

The restaurant’s offer had been even better than he’d anticipated. Not only would he command a staff of a half dozen pastry chefs and bakers, but he would do so for thirty percent more money than his salary at Lillian’s.

Although, it wasn’t about the money. It was never about the money.

The most important thing about the conversation he’d just had was the way Grant Robinson had made him feel—as if he would be a valued member of the team. How could someone he’d never met face-to-face make him feel more respected than his own family?

This decision should have been an easy one to make, but it was anything but easy. Carter had something else to consider this time around. Or, rather, some
one
to consider. The thought of leaving for New York didn’t have the same appeal it had held just a few weeks ago.

He tried to convince himself that he and Lorraine would be able to handle the distance. New York was just a short plane ride from Chicago, right? The Hawthorne-Hayeses probably owned a private jet. He and Lorraine could make a long-distance relationship work while he gave this new position a shot.

But Carter quickly scratched those plans from his mental idea pad. He could hardly stand to be away from her for a few hours; he couldn’t imagine going days or weeks without seeing her. It made his chest ache just to think about it.

When had this happened? How did a woman have him considering changing plans he had been working on even before he’d met her?

He shook his head, letting out a huff of laughter as he thought about how Malik had teased him, and how he’d tried to deny his friend’s claims. There wasn’t much denying it any longer. He was good and caught. And he didn’t want Lorraine to let go anytime soon.

Carter pushed away from the kitchen island and grabbed his keys. An hour later, he found himself sweating under the high-powered lights set up by the photographer in a small area of the kitchen at Lillian’s that they had commandeered for today’s photo shoot. Even though it was the sweets that were supposed to be on display, Carter felt as if his cheeks were going to break with all the smiling he’d done for the camera.

Drake had hired the photographer to take some preliminary photos for the upcoming
Brothers Who Bake
cookbook. He, Drake and Malik were each sending in two recipes, along with photographs of each step in the baking process. Carter was used to pausing in the middle of baking when he took photos for their Brothers Who Bake blog, but he was never in those photos; it was always just the ingredients.

“How much longer?” Carter asked. Between the heat in the kitchen and the photographer’s bright lights, he was sweating like a marathon runner.

“I just need a few more shots of you,” the photographer answered. “Let’s make these action shots. Pretend you’re mixing something in the bowl, or put a pan in the oven, but don’t look at the camera.”

Carter did as he was told so that he could be done with it all. He wasn’t in the right headspace for playing it up for the camera. Or even for baking, for that matter.

That, above all else, told him that the old Carter had indelibly changed. The kitchen was the
first
place he escaped to when he needed to clear his head. There had been several instances in the past when Drake had been forced to send out messages via Lillian’s online social networks advertising extra cakes in the bakery because Carter had gone on a baking tear. Something told him that his go-to solution wouldn’t cut it this time.

He shook his head. When had a woman ever held such power over him?

It scared the hell out of him to think that she could influence a decision that was so important to his life, but Carter knew he would not be able to give Grant Robinson an answer until he knew exactly how Lorraine felt about him.

“That went pretty well,” Drake said, coming up to him.

Malik followed. “So, once the photographer gets back to us with the pictures, we’re going to get together to decide which ones we want to send to the publishers?”

Drake held up a smart card. “I’ve got the pictures right here. We’re going to do that right now.”

“I can’t,” Carter said. “I’ve got too much to do today.”

“Like what?” both Drake and Malik asked in unison.

“Like take care of my own damn business,” he bit out.

“We need to get this stuff done now, Carter,” Malik pointed out.

“Can’t it wait?”

“Until when?” Drake asked. “We have to start preparing for
You Take the Cake
soon, and then we’ll all be heading to California in a few weeks.”

“I have to—” But Carter stopped. He didn’t want either his cousin’s or Malik’s opinion. The discussion he needed to have would be between himself and Lorraine. Outside influences would only muddy already murky water.

“So, are you in or are you out, Carter?” Malik asked.

“He’s in,” Drake said. “We can’t postpone this.”

Carter checked the time on his cell phone. It was already midafternoon. He cursed under his breath.

“I’m in,” he said. “Just give me a minute to take care of something.”

He sent Lorraine a quick text message, asking if she’d like to have coffee in an hour. She replied seconds later, reminding him that she and her sister were doing pre-wedding shopping today. Carter replied with an invitation for dinner, which she accepted, complete with a smiley face at the end of the text message.

He couldn’t stop his grin from forming. Just the simplest gesture from this woman made him so happy it caused a lump of something he’d tried to deny to form in his throat. But he was no longer denying what it was that had captured his heart—his complete soul.

He loved Lorraine Hawthorne-Hayes with the kind of love he’d never thought possible, and he knew she felt the same way about him.

Yes, they had a lot to discuss at dinner tonight. It was one of the most important dinners of his life, because it could possibly change the course of his life. Forever.

Chapter 14

S
itting before the vanity in her bathroom, Lorraine applied just a touch of mascara to her lashes. She had been slowly reducing the amount of makeup she wore because, contrary to popular belief in her usual circle of acquaintances, appearance was not everything. Carter didn’t care about how much makeup she wore; he thought she was just as sexy in a pair of jeans and one of his T-shirts, wearing no makeup at all.