A Dad At Last by Marie Ferrarella

this.
    By all rights, she should shout at him and run away, negating any agreements just made. Severing all ties and fleeing with her child before she sacrificed her mind all over again, this time to a man who held her very soul in the palm of his hand. Held it there and didn’t give a damn that he had the power to do so.
    But Lacy remained where she was, feet firmly planted on the ground, savoring this because she knew it might not happen again and she needed it. Needed it more than the food on her plate or the air she breathed.
    She knew that made her weak. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not about that. Not yet.
    With a soft sigh, she leaned into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her soul tangling in the moment. The kiss deepened, threatening to take her under for the third time.
    â€œAre congratulations in order?”
    The voice wedged its way into the moment and brought reality, cold and hard, with it. Lacy felt the pang instantly. Connor had already jerked back from her. She tossed her head, making damn sure her eyes looked as if they were sparkling.
    She stared straight at Jake. “Yes. Connor has just asked me to be his cook, and I’ve accepted.”
    â€œCook?” Jake damn well never saw anyone kiss their cook like that. Who did they think they were fooling? “Is that a euphemism?”
    â€œNo, that’s a position,” Lacy answered brightly. “A position I can fill very capably, luckily for Connor.”
    And then the full ramifications of what she was doing hit her. She caught her lip between her teeth, her eyes slanting toward Connor. She felt partiallyvindicated in that he didn’t look as if he were exactly capable of doing long division in his head at the moment. At least she wasn’t the only one affected by what had just happened.
    â€œBut that means I’m going to have to tell Shelby I’m leaving. Unless, of course,” she said to Connor, “you don’t mind having all your meals served either very, very early or very, very late.”
    Why did she insist on going on with this charade? “I already told you,” Connor told her impatiently, “you won’t have to worry about money—”
    â€œUm, I think maybe I hear Camille calling for me upstairs,” Jake murmured. Part of being able to survive as long as he had with his skin intact was knowing to get out before things heated up too much. And there was definitely heat here.
    Didn’t Connor understand? Lacy thought, exasperated. “I wasn’t thinking about money, I was thinking about loyalty. That’s far more important.”
    Connor failed to see the problem. “Shelby can find someone else to do the cooking at the diner. She did before.”
    He made it sound as if she was completely expendable. As if anyone could easily fill her shoes. Did he really feel that way? “She says my cooking is what was bringing customers in.” Having given her word to Connor, she could not turn back. Lacy sighed. “But a deal’s a deal.” And then an idea surfaced. “Maybe I can still make the pies for her andsend them in. You wouldn’t mind your cook being a little enterprising on her own, would you?”
    He refused to get pulled into this. It was safer to remain on the outskirts. She’d come around soon enough and settle down, he promised himself. But the promise wasn’t made with confidence. “You can do what you want, Lacy. Your life’s your own.”
    He said it so cavalierly. She felt her back going up. “But not my son’s.”
    Connor’s eyes narrowed. “No, not our son’s.” He purposely amended the reference, his eyes on hers. “Chase’s life is half mine until he’s of legal age. Then it’s all his.”
    â€œI see.” Inside, she felt as if she were trembling, whether with anger, anticipation or some other emotion she wasn’t certain. She struggled