Page 97 of The Guest Cottage
Together, the three of them went inside. Marlow first, followed by Pixie. Of course, Cort made sure he was last to protect their backs.
Andy, the little sweetheart, kicked his legs, cooing.
Cort hugged Pixie right off her feet. “Bravo. You handled that well.”
“Yes, you did,” Marlow agreed. “It was perfect.” Currently filled with love—all kinds of love—Marlow felt extreme pity for Aston. Because of his attitude, he’d never know anything like this. And that, truly, was a shame.
CHAPTER13
By silent agreement, Marlow and Cort decided to have dinner with Pixie rather than leave her alone. She’d made them both proud, but anyone who knew her could see that it had cost her to confront Aston that way.
He wasn’t just Dylan’s father, he was an affluent man of power, and he’d been incredibly ugly to Pixie. His offer to buy her off, the equivalent of hush money, had been an insult, a clear indication that he thought she was lying about Andy. Would he not even consider the possibility that the baby was his grandson?
Well, he had mentioned a paternity test, so maybe he had doubts.
Cort was being extra gentle with Pixie, his protectiveness in full force, and Marlow loved it.
Later, when she had him alone, she’d mention how much she appreciated his emotional support, while politely explaining thatshecould take care of herself. She couldn’t recall Dylan ever standing up for her like that, but then, it had never been required. The only angry men Marlow had ever faced were in boardrooms negotiating massive deals with execs and assistants present, and more recently, Dylan and his hateful lawyer.
Not to pat herself on the back, but she’d always held her own.
As Marlow pondered, she walked back and forth with Andy so that Pixie could get some baby supplies together before joining them at Cort’s house.
Then she spotted the sketches. “Oh, wow.” She lifted the top sheet to look more closely. “Are these our fireflies?”
Cort cocked a brow. “Did you adopt some specific fireflies that I don’t know about?”
“You know what I mean. Bramble fireflies.” She shot him a smile. “They’re special.”
Coming around the corner with a freshly loaded diaper bag, Pixie caught her looking at the sketches and flushed bright pink.
Her reaction prompted Marlow to give the sketches closer scrutiny. “These are stunning. Where did you find them, Pixie?”
“I, um . . .” She practically shuffled her feet. “I did them.”
“You did them?”
“Drew them, I mean. Sketched. Quickly.” She hurried toward the back door to get her shoes.
“No way.” Marlow tilted the paper so Cort could better see as he looked over her shoulder. “They’re incredible.” She went through a few more drawings, then noticed the stack of notes Pixie had compiled for prospective products. She’d certainly been busy! And better still, the items were exactly what Marlow had been looking for.
“Very nice,” Cort agreed. “You have real talent.”
“It’s just a simple sketch—with a little glowing butt.” Pixie inched closer, too. “I added your name.”
“I see.” Bouncing Andy a little, Marlow read aloud, “Marlow’s Whimsy.” She grinned at Cort. “Isn’t that clever?”
“What exactly do you plan to sell?”
“Pixie and I talked about it, and I’m thinking casual clothes like T-shirts, tanks and halters, maybe some loose, flowing skirts, sundresses, things like that. Summery clothes but also custom jewelry that’s affordable. Coffee mugs and sun hats.” The more products Marlow mentioned, the more she wanted. “Seasonal stuff for holidays and some kitschy things, like maybe coasters, little birdhouses. Oh! Maybe firefly houses.”
Getting into the spirit, Pixie said, “She’s talked about beaded pouches, pot holders, maybe custom puzzles made from photos of the sunset over the lake.”
Cort’s smile went crooked. “I think it all sounds great. And yeah, Marlow’s Whimsy is perfect.”
“Pixie, what you’ve done looks great, and I love that you incorporated a firefly. Could we use this as our logo?” Not giving her a chance to get flustered, Marlow said, “I’d pay you well.”
“What? No. I mean, sure, I made it for you, so you can do whatever you want with it. But it’s a gift. I can’t take money for it.”
