Love Is Always Write Volume 4

guess you can carry the platters out." He pointed to a huge stainless steel refrigerator with a single magnet on it—a picture of the squashy face of a newborn Emily.
    Greg opened it and found platters of amazing food—beautiful displays of fruit and some kind of dip.
    "You must have spent a bundle on the caterer." It was practically the first thing he'd said, and even he could hear the snark in his voice.
    "I made it. The only thing I don't have is the cake." Stefan began shifting foot to foot.
    Greg hauled out a platter. "Where does this go?"
    "Out in the dining room on the sideboard. That's good. I have trivets for the hot stuff, so you can put the cold things anywhere."
    When Greg got back, Stefan was busy at the stove, dexterously whisking something.
    "Are you a chef?"
    "No. I was, but I didn't do well with the long hours and crappy conditions. These days, I work from home. I do some food photography, and I write articles and other freelance work."
    That made sense.
    "Amazing you're not fat," Mellady said. "I'm so jealous."
    Greg couldn't help glancing at the figure again. Stefan was trim, lean, and Greg felt the other hunger rise in him.
    Stefan turned to smile at her. "I've got good metabolism, and I don't get hungry when I cook."
    Greg wondered if Mellady would ever look at the baby, but she seemed uninterested in Emily. She wandered over and picked up a carrot piece. She crunched on it. "So where's Phillip?"
    ****
    STEFAN
    He had to get used to telling people the truth, but he wished the first time wasn't with Emily's mother and perhaps her father. He had to swallow his fear and the questions. Are you here to take her away from me? I'm not letting her go without a fight. I'll spend every penny I've got to keep her.
    Thanks to his hit cookbook and some good investments he'd made back when he was a student, not to mention the money his parents had left him, he had enough pennies to fight back.
    He cleared his throat. "Um. Phillip is gone." He chickened out and didn't add "Forever."
    "He is?" Mellady put down the carrot and frowned. "But you two are such a great couple. I don't understand."
    She glanced at Greg as if he might have something to say about it. He did. "So you're on your own? That's hard, especially with a new baby."
    "I can handle it," Stefan snapped, then ordered himself to stop freaking out. He managed a less aggressive: "I can hire help if I get overwhelmed."
    "Yeah? You think that'll make up for the fact that one of her parents has taken off?"
    Wow, Greg was turning out to be an asshole, but then Stefan saw Mellady's face had gone grim, and he remembered she was the daughter of a single mother who, from the conversations they'd had about her background, was not much of a parent.
    Mellady was dependent on an older brother. What was the name she'd said…? Oh, shit. He got it now. The name, the face, the whole thing dropped into place. But he wasn't going to say anything to the two of them. Let them tell him about Uncle Greg if they wanted to.
    He calmed himself down. "I think Emily and I will be fine. No, I'm sure of it. I work at home. We have enough money."
    The adoption had been finalized. He didn't need to panic. This wasn't Emily's father in front of him.
    Greg, the jerk uncle, gave a huff of annoyance. He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked around the place, frowning. The inspection he gave reminded Stefan of the adoption home inspection, and he grimaced as he remembered that the social worker was coming soon too.
    But he'd steadied himself enough to sound reasonable. He hoped. "Look. I wish Phillip had stuck around, but he didn't. I will. I promise you, I will be a loving parent to Emily for as long as I live."
    "It's just so disappointing," Mellady said. "I was certain I'd made the right choice with you two."
    Stefan felt slightly sick again.
    Shockingly, Greg offered relief. "I guess now isn't the right time to talk about it, huh? Judging by the amount of food you made and the stack of plates, a lot of people are about to show up."
    Stefan could delay the panic after all. "You're right. Thank you both for your help."
    They got back to hauling out the food, and Stefan sighed with relief as the sauce for the vegetable roast didn't curdle. He carefully put together the last thing to go out, a salad. Greg the uncle stared at it. "What is that white stuff?"
    "Tofu."
    Greg's nose wrinkle reminded Stefan of Emily when she was in a bad mood. "That's what I thought."
    Stefan