It's a Boy!. Victoria Pade

about this. She recognized that due to her own family’s history with the Camdens, it probably wasn’t possible not to worry.

      But the bottom line was that she didn’t feel as if she had another option.

      So she heard herself say a very uncertain, “Okay.”

      But she uttered the word at the exact moment that Carter’s lack of coordination with the spoon caused him to shoot a chunk of cheesecake at Lang Camden, splattering it on the front of his well-tailored suit.

      “Oh geez, Carter, I just got this back from the cleaner’s,” Lang complained as he wiped the cheesecake from his lapel with a napkin.

      As he focused on that, he missed the fact that Carter, thinking the incident was hilarious, was about to purposely shoot a second glob at him.

      Heddy didn’t want to get involved but it was clear that disaster was in the offing and if she didn’t stop it, no one would.

      She reached across the table and took the spoon a split second before Carter could accomplish the next lob. “Uh-uh, we don’t throw food,” she said firmly.

      “Wan-oo,” Carter insisted.

      “No,” Heddy informed him as Lang finally realized what she’d saved him from.

      “Hey! No!” he decreed.

      “Wan-oo!” Carter responded, plunging a hand into the cheesecake, obviously with every intention of throwing it since Heddy still had his spoon.

      Lang grabbed his wrist just in time, shoved the cheesecake plate out of the way and turned his efforts to cleaning Carter’s hand rather than his suit coat while Carter launched into a classic terrible-two screaming fit demanding the return of his cheesecake.

      Lang apologized over the din.

      Heddy got up, went behind her counter, cut a second slice of the blueberry cheesecake and took it back to the table. She set it far out of Carter’s reach but because her movements had sparked his curiosity and stopped his screams, she said, “If you can eat it nicely, you can have this other piece.”

      “Nicey,” Carter begrudgingly agreed.

      When his hand was clean Heddy slid him the new slice, seeing the toddler rub his eye with his other hand before he dug into the cheesecake.

      “Not a good nap today?” Heddy guessed.

      “Yeah. No. None at all. I try to get him to take one if I can, but it doesn’t usually work out.”

      “Oh, kids this age have to have a nap,” Heddy said. “They need one every day. They need the rest and they need the schedule, the routine …”

      She’d said too much. It wasn’t her place. She had no idea under what circumstances Lang Camden was caring for this child, so she certainly shouldn’t be counseling or criticizing.

      But he didn’t seem to take offense. He just seemed out of his element. Which was strange for someone who seemed so in control otherwise.

      “Yeah, there’s a lot I have to work out,” he said. “I’m learning on the job.”

      That still didn’t tell Heddy who Lang and Carter were to each other and why the man was even attempting to take care of the toddler.

      But he didn’t satisfy her curiosity. Instead he merely said, “I should probably warn you that until I can get this kid thing squared away and find some help, we’re a package deal. He’ll be tagging along on everything you and I will need to do.”

      The thought of seeing the little boy every time she had anything to do with Lang Camden was so painful that Heddy was tempted to say no to the business proposition altogether.

      “A package deal?” she queried.

      “Where I am, he is these days,” Lang answered, pinning her once more with those eyes that seemed like the bluest eyes in the world before he returned to talking business. “Was that an okay I heard from you just before the cheesecake attack?”

      Heddy offered herself the opportunity to deny it, to not go through with this, after all.

      But nothing in her situation had changed in the past several minutes so she said another less-than-enthusiastic, “Yeah.”

      “Great! You won’t be sorry.”

      Heddy could only hope that proved true.

      “So what now?” she asked.

      “I’ll leave it up to you when to formally close your doors, but my advice is to do it right away. We’ll be busy getting this ball rolling so you won’t really have time to be here to run this place.”

      And there was no sense spending any more money on a sinking ship, Heddy thought, assuming he was also thinking that but was being kind enough not to say it.

      “I’ll have a sign made that announces that your cheesecakes will soon be available at Camden Superstores. You can put it out front. It’ll be our first advertisement and then any of your regular customers will know where to look for them in the future.”

      Heddy nodded, feeling sad at the thought of closing the shop. Then she realized that she felt a little relieved, too, especially knowing that she had something else to move on to.

      “For right now,” he continued, “let me work up a game plan to get things going the quickest way possible, so you won’t have too much downtime between the shop and the new production.”

      “That would be good,” Heddy said, thinking of her already stressed finances.

      “I’ll do that tonight and tomorrow, then how about if you do a tasting for me tomorrow night? Give me a chance to have a bite of most of the flavors you make—not necessarily the seasonals, but the everyday varieties. We won’t want to start out with too many choices. We’ll want to introduce some basics, then add to them, maybe do weekly or monthly specials. But let me try nearly everything to see what we want to launch with.

      And while I’m gorging on cheesecake we’ll go over the game plan I come up with between now and then.”

      “And paperwork …” Heddy said, still feeling insecure about this whole thing.

      “I’ll have that drawn up, too. Though I won’t have that ready for a couple of days. I’ll lay out the grant portion of the deal, and also our standard contract for you to sell cheesecakes to Camden Inc. as soon as you’re in production.”

      “Okay,” Heddy repeated, feeling as out of her element in this as he seemed to be with Carter.

      Carter, who had finished the second slice of cheesecake and was now nodding off in his chair.

      Lang noticed him at the same time Heddy did and used another napkin to wipe the drowsy child’s face and hands as he said in a quieter tone, “Looks like you’re right. He’s tired. I’ll get him out of here and maybe he’ll snooze a little in the car.”

      The mother in Heddy wanted to reiterate that Carter needed more than a snooze in the car, but she fought the urge the same way she fought not to like his more intimate tone of voice.

      Carter didn’t rally much even through his face and hand cleaning. So when the big man stood, he picked up the child and slung him onto one hip.

      Sound asleep, Carter’s head dropped to Lang’s shoulder.

      And there was something much too appealing in the sight of them together like that.

      Heddy averted her eyes and busied herself gathering dishes.

      But then Lang said, “I’m sorry I can’t make it tomorrow during business hours. Is it all right that we do the tasting in the evening?”

      It seemed rude not to look at him again, not to go with him to the door, so Heddy did. “It’s fine. My evenings are not jam-packed. And it will give me the chance during the day to make a few more cheesecake variations