by Regan Black
“Ah.”
The baby rubbed his face against Fox’s shirt. “Care to elaborate?” he prompted when Kelsey moved to fix a bottle.
“You really are worried you’ll change from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde with a child around.”
“I am.” He sat down in his chair, rocking a bit for the baby’s sake. If there was a switch in the DNA, a recessive gene or a chemical imbalance that occurred at a certain age, he might not be safe around Baby John or any other child.
“Do you just need to vent or are you looking for an opinion?” she asked.
He appreciated having the option. “You’re a geneticist. Opine.”
She handed him the bottle and the baby latched on and started suckling enthusiastically. “I’m one of twelve kids in my family and all the neighbors had big families, too.”
She’d told him she had several siblings, but one of twelve? Just thinking about the noise and chaos overwhelmed him. “What planet are you from?”
“I’m not allowed to say.”
He liked the way her eyes sparkled when she was amused.
“I worked my way through college taking care of children, which put me around plenty of parents. No one is perfect. Mental illness can play a part in abusive situations of all kinds.”
“The brain is a great and terrible thing,” he said, echoing a professor from school.
“It is. In my professional opinion, you were too young to accurately understand your parents’ marriage. What your mom did or didn’t know about your father is irrelevant.”
“How can you say that?” He pushed to his feet, restless with nowhere to go and a baby in his arms. He didn’t want to hear her answer, yet it was pure cowardice to leave. He’d invited this—he should hear her out.
“Because you aren’t him, Fox.” She took the baby from him without interrupting the feeding. “You share some DNA, but you’re you. You choose how to act, how to express your disappointment or anger. You choose self-control or destruction.”
She was right. He knew it in his head; it was the rest of him that struggled to keep up and accept that basic truth. The baby fussed and she shifted him to pat the air out of his tummy.
Fox went to the crib and set it up for Baby John’s naptime, while she let him finish the bottle. A few minutes later the little guy was dozing on her shoulder.
“Were you often a therapist for your family clients?” he asked.
“Only the smart ones,” she replied.
The sassy smile on her lips tempted him like nothing else. His palm was on her arm and he was leaning in before he caught himself. At the last minute, he brushed a kiss on the baby’s head and retreated to his desk.
He was too comfortable around her. It was as if he’d been caught in a happy-family web that grew stronger with every passing day. With any luck, she had no idea where his thoughts had led or how desperately he was trying to tamp down his desire for her.
They were employer and employee. Colleagues. She was already an asset to the business and that would only be more valuable with time. He couldn’t screw that up, or risk everything he’d worked for to explore this physical attraction.
* * *
Kelsey rubbed Baby John’s back until he pulled his knees up under his chest and pushed his butt into the air. The pose was his preferred position for napping, and soothing him gave her an excellent distraction from her whirling thoughts.
Fox had nearly kissed her. She’d wanted that kiss. His breath had fanned her cheek and his scent clung to her clothing. Of course it did. She was living in his house, working in his office. She pressed her lips together. Kissing him would have been incredible. And wildly inappropriate.
He was her boss and they were just learning how she could best support his business. Requests for his insights into breeding programs were frequent, as well as queries about supporting the health of broodmares.
This wasn’t the place for kisses, no matter the potential.
“Do you think he’ll adjust?” Fox asked when she settled behind her desk once more.
They’d had this conversation before. She kept her gaze lowered as she marked the place where she’d left off in the research paper on holistic methods for controlling symptoms for in-season mares. “He’s the tiny king of adjusting,” she said.
He looked at her over his reading glasses and her pulse raced. Why was that so sexy?
“I mean to his real family,” Fox said. “They’ll do things differently than we do. I remember struggling to keep up with the differences when we were jumbled up with Russ and Mara’s boys.”
“You were grieving. He’s just a baby, too young to know what he’s lost.”
“Maybe.” Fox turned back to whatever he was reading.
Kelsey set aside the research in favor of working on the query Fox had assigned to her. She needed to persuade another breeder to share some data that they could analyze and possibly incorporate into his current system.
“I appreciate your help. I couldn’t have let him go to strangers.”
Though his voice was quiet, the intensity hit her like a sucker punch, stealing her breath. “You made a good choice,” she replied softly. “Family should step up. I’m sure his father will appreciate everything you did when we find him.”
“It bugs me that the father hasn’t knocked on my door.” He stood up and started pacing in front of the glass doors. “It’s not like we’re living in New York City,” he was saying. “Word travels fast around here.”
Kelsey sat back and gave Fox her full attention. That backfired as she was mesmerized by the way he moved and gestured when he spoke. She had to work to keep her mind on his words rather than his big hands or those long, muscular legs.
“Maybe everyone is more comfortable believing you are the father.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re probably right. Regardless, when we get the DNA results back, I’m not wasting any time handing him off. He needs to be with his real family. Hopefully they can tell me why he landed on my doorstep.”
She agreed with the sentiment behind the declaration, but in her experience, family of origin was rarely perfect. “Do you intend to stay in his life?”
His mouth fell open. “I hadn’t thought of that. Guess that’s a done deal if he’s a nephew.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re attached,” she began. “And because extended family is important. My aunt helped me...” She nearly said escape, but said, “Prep for college,” instead. “I spent as much time as possible with her.” Every day from her escape from home until she boarded the bus for freshman orientation. She credited everything she was right now to her aunt’s courage and example.
“She inspired you,” Fox observed, dropping back into his desk chair.
“Yes, she did. What was the biggest adjustment for you after your parents died?”
“Going from one little sister to having three brothers.” He chuckled. “But I’ll always be grateful they didn’t leave us to the foster system.”
“Sounds like you have a good family and a strong support network.”
“That’s true. They’re good people. I’m still closest to Sloane. Some days I feel like she was cheated since she only remembers Mara as a mom.”
“But you’ve said Mara doted on her.”
“She did until the twins, Skye and Phoebe, came along. Something about me always rubbed her the wrong way, but we managed.”
Managed? Kelsey didn’t like the way he said that.
“Russ took me under his wing, taught me there were options and choices. Maybe Mara resented his making time for me, when he often wouldn’t for his own boys. When I left for college, it was for a business degree to follow him into the Colton Empire.”
“Seriously?” She couldn’t quell the shock. Fox in a suit would make her hormones sit up and
beg. As if they weren’t doing that already. “Hard to envision you in an office.” This was where he belonged.
He looked at her over his glasses and arched an eyebrow. Drooling was a valid concern.
“Fine, this is an office.” She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I can’t see you in a high-rise, schmoozing with uppity clients.”
He laughed, dropping his glasses to the desktop. “Only Russ ever saw that life for me,” he admitted. “I wanted it, right up until I got to college and discovered biology and chemistry made more sense to me than profit and loss statements.”
“Lucky me.” She grinned at him, but his gaze had shifted to his monitor.
They worked a bit longer in a companionable silence as she switched gears, reviewing a decades-old study on breeding quarter horses for more speed in the rodeo ring. It wasn’t Fox’s goal at all, but the way they’d matched sires and mares had been of particular interest. The report had several pictures of foals and made her think again about Baby John Doe’s early months.
“Do you have any baby pictures?” she asked as she worked.
“Probably stored away in a box somewhere,” he replied after a minute. “My mom—Dana, I mean—enjoyed making scrapbook pages when I was little.”
She could hardly picture him little. He was bigger than life to her, and not only by reputation after the recent days as his nanny and assistant. His heart was bigger still, full of his ideas for his own ranch and the breeding programs he worked up for clients. And still he had room to care for a stranger’s child.
“You want to compare me to Baby John Doe?”
“No. You said he isn’t your son.” Her history, as much as she tried to forget it, was gone. At least he had that little piece of his parents. “I was just curious. Maybe we should be taking pictures of him. For him to have later.”
“It’s not a bad idea.” He traded his glasses for his cell phone and quietly snapped a few pictures of the baby asleep.
His response, the instant action, made her feel as if someone had stirred sweet, melted caramel into her soul. She didn’t have anything from her first fifteen years. Assuming her siblings and mother had followed the usual directive when someone left the community, all evidence of her had been stored away—likely destroyed—to reframe a family she’d never been part of.
“I think guys are different than girls,” he said when he returned to his desk.
“If you’re just now thinking that, I’m not surprised you aren’t the father,” she joked. “Do we need to have the talk?”
“Ha-ha.” He set his glasses back on his nose, then leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “I think men and women look at their history differently. Through different lenses. And of course, girls have the power to give birth.”
“Some girls want more than motherhood,” she muttered.
“As they should,” Fox said.
He was oblivious to her inner turmoil, his mind clearly busy formulating a separate point, but she was nevertheless intrigued by what he had to say on the subject of gender roles and relationships.
“I’m not articulating it well,” he admitted. “Girls look at the people of a family, the faces and the feelings, and guys look at a family like a legacy.”
“Are you saying girls are shallow?” She wasn’t truly mad or offended. His mind was an interesting place and she had a feeling he was working his way through something far more personal. It was her problem if something stomped on the old nerves that were still raw.
“Stop putting words in my mouth,” he replied with a sheepish smile. “It’s not hardwired the same in each person, male or female, I know that. We all have our own balance point.”
“You’re wondering if—in general—boys grow up with an inclination or pressure to provide because they saw their dads providing?”
“Yes, exactly. It’s not all genetics or all learned behavior, as you said earlier. The women in my life can pore over baby books for days, but I can’t imagine my brothers want to look back on their baby pictures any more than I do.”
“Huh.” Was her craving for a bit of that a result of feeling rootless after her escape?
“Work with me, Kelsey,” he said. “Did the women of your family pore over baby books?”
“Yes.” She tried not to squirm while he stared at her. “And, yes, as a general rule, the boys only showed up to make fun of siblings and cousins.”
“Not you, though. No doubt you were too adorable,” he said.
She laughed, though she felt a blush rising into her face. “They loved to make fun of me. I was a pale tomato.”
He laughed. “That’s a baby picture I want to see.”
“Good luck with that. Baby pictures weren’t on my mind when I left home.” Sneaking out with only a backpack stuffed with clothing and her math and science notebooks, her focus had been on making it past the gate without getting caught.
“When was the last time you visited?”
“I don’t visit.” She shifted her attention to another thick stack of papers she needed to wade through. “Leaving home was a permanent thing for me.” Final answer, one-way trip. Unfortunately, her brothers were rather persistent in their demands for her to come home and do her duty for the family.
Not gonna happen, guys.
“You don’t have any contact with your family?”
She didn’t need to look at him, the disbelief was clear enough in his voice.
“I’m not judging,” he added.
His chair squeaked and she heard each of his footsteps as he crossed the room.
“No, you wouldn’t,” she murmured, still not looking at him. It wouldn’t occur to Fox to judge someone, harshly or otherwise. He might be the best person she’d ever met.
“Kelsey?”
She steeled herself for his reaction. “My family isn’t what you’d call forgiving. And it’s a subject I avoid. The reasons I left...” She looked toward the playpen where Baby John was napping. No helpful distraction from that quarter. “Well, there were several.” Hooray for that kernel of honesty.
The brief rally in her head was cut short when she glanced up and caught him watching her with a mixture of curiosity and pity. Ick. She wanted to be seen as an equal, not a project. No family was perfect.
“I’m here now,” she said. With luck, her brothers wouldn’t find a way to wreck this ideal job for her. They’d caught up with her at one overnight on her drive to Colorado, but her years of practice in evasion enabled her to leave them in the dust. She hadn’t seen them since and she hadn’t told anyone about her destination. “I left home a long time ago and I’ve made it a habit to live in the present.”
“But you went to college, planned a career.”
“True.” What was he getting at?
He tapped his reading glasses against his palm. “That indicates you had an eye for the future, living beyond the moment.”
Without a degree, her only career path would be nanny, which was hardly any different than staying home would have been. “One primary reason I left was because my parents wouldn’t have let me go to college.”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Her cheeks were hot and her fingertips were tingling. “I wanted to keep learning.”
“Kelsey, that’s...” His gaze darted around the office as if he could find the right words tacked up on the walls.
“Archaic? Backward?” she supplied.
“No.” He shook his head. “Well, yes.” His sky blue gaze sliced right through her defenses. “Cruel,” he declared. “With your mind, that’s just cruel.”
If anyone had given her a higher compliment, she couldn’t remember it. Not when he stared at her as if she could answers life’s biggest questions. “My family has a strict and firm value structure,” she said. “Me going to college would have r
ocked their values.”
“More than losing you entirely?” He uttered the words as if she were invaluable. Her heart couldn’t take much more. “Can we set it aside? Please?”
“Just one more question.”
She nodded. He was her boss twice over and she was caring for an infant he’d taken under his protection. She owed him answers to any questions or concerns.
“Do you regret leaving?”
She’d been prepared to answer a much different question and it took a moment for her to regroup. “No. It was the right thing for me.” Life with her family would’ve stifled her mind and crushed her spirit. Better to live alone than merely exist as a cog in the wheel. If only her brothers would accept that she’d never go back.
“Do you miss them?”
“I don’t miss fighting for the last roll at dinner,” she admitted wryly. “And that’s a second question,” she joked.
“I have many...but I won’t press.”
“I appreciate that,” she said sincerely. Dwelling on her family always made her feel as if she’d been caught at the edge of a quicksand pit and the wrong thought or move would suck her in forever. “Do you mind if I step out for some fresh air?”
“Go ahead,” he replied, starting back to his desk.
Outside, she filled her lungs with the clear mountain air, exhaled slowly. Walking out to the nearest patch of grass, she stretched her arms overhead and repeated the cleansing breaths until she felt steadier, calmer.
Questions or not, she was safe here as an employee and a woman. Fox needed her for the baby as well as the breeding work he was so passionate about. He wouldn’t hold her family antics against her, though she wouldn’t want her brothers to test his patience.
She moved slowly through a series of movements she’d compiled through years of self-defense, yoga and martial arts classes. It was her own blend, one she practiced regularly to keep herself limber and strong. Even a short break could make a big difference.
A few minutes later, her body and mind quiet, eyes closed and palms pressed together in front of her heart, she heard the hum of a car engine. She opened her eyes in time to see a dark sedan roll smoothly away and disappear into the trees.
