It Takes a Baby (Superromance)

by Holmes, Dee

  “Oh dear.” The older woman looked genuinely embarrassed.

  Booth moved forward, blocking Kathleen’s view. She’d pulled the sheet all the way to her chin, and if she could have turned to ashes, she would have done that.

  “Mom, why don’t you wait in the living room? We’ll be right out.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was shaky. “I called you, and when I peeked in and Lisa was asleep and there was no one around and...”

  Booth walked over to her. “I hear Lisa now. Why don’t you go and get her up? Kathleen and I will be right out.”

  “Your father will be furious with me. He’s always telling me I walk around with blinders on.”

  “He’s in Alaska, remember? He isn’t going to know unless you call and tell him.” Booth eased her out the door.

  “Even so, I should never have just barged into your bedroom.”

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t deliberate, I know.”

  “Maybe I should leave and come back another time.”

  “I don’t want you to leave. Just give us a few minutes, okay?”

  “Please tell your friend how sorry I am.”

  “I will.”

  He pushed the door closed, and not until he did so did Kathleen begin to breathe again. Her head was pounding, her ears ringing. She searched around for her clothes. If only he had a back door.

  In two steps, Booth was on the bed and tugging her into his arms.

  She burrowed there for warmth, unable to stop shaking.

  “This isn’t the end of the world, babe.”

  “I’ve never been so embarrassed, and the worst is yet to come. I mean, what on earth can I say to her?”

  “Why don’t we just accept that everyone’s embarrassed and start over?”

  “You’re acting as if it didn’t bother you.”

  “Actually, I think it’s kind of funny.”

  Her head popped up. “Funny!”

  “My mother is always so cool and so together, that to see her so flustered sort of reassured me that some things do throw her off stride.” He grinned. “Besides, she’s going to love you. Lisa does, and my mother believes that babies have the best instincts about people.”

  “Are you crazy? It’s not like she caught us having coffee and muffins.”

  “She didn’t see anything.”

  “She didn’t have to, for God’s sake. And I have only myself to blame—No, dammit, this is your fault. You knocked that lamp over....”

  “Look, it’s just a set of bad circumstances, not the end of the world. People do have sex. It could have been worse.”

  “I can’t imagine any way it would have been worse.”

  “We could have been on the kitchen table.”

  She shuddered, considering the possibility. Good grief, what was she doing? Rationalizing her actions according to the amount of embarrassment she felt?

  “I can’t go out there, Booth.”

  “Of course you can.” He pulled her close, leaned down and kissed her breasts, murmuring. “She won’t stay long, and after she leaves we can finish what we started.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?” she snapped, scrambling off the bed and turning the light on. “Maybe it’s no big deal to you, but it’s a major big deal to me.”

  She rustled around gathering her clothes, but not finding her bra. Booth stretched out, his head propped on one hand, and watched her.

  “Well, where is it?”

  “What?”

  “My bra.”

  “You don’t need it.”

  She glared at him so hard, he actually winced. “Okay, okay.” He pulled it out from under the covers and handed it to her. She snatched it and turned her back to put it on.

  When she was dressed, she peered into the bedroom mirror. Her lips were bruised, her cheeks stained with color, and to her horror she felt frustrated by the interruption. That infuriated her. In all her years of marriage to Steve, sex had always been just okay. She’d never missed it when they went days without it, and when on occasion Steve couldn’t perform, she’d never felt deprived. Sometimes she was just relieved when he turned away and refused to talk to about it.

  But now, here with Booth, she felt itchy and shaky and out of control.

  Booth took her hand. “Come on, I promise this won’t be as bad as you think.”

  “What am I going to say to her?”

  “How about that you’re going to marry me?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  WHEN KATHLEEN STEPPED out of the bedroom, Booth was right behind her, his words still resounding in her mind.

  Marry him? Sure. The perfect solution when caught having sex. It was ridiculous, impossible and totally out of the question. And even if they’d been engaged, even if his mother had been her new best friend, she would never have wanted to be caught in such a humiliating position. Of course, he hadn’t been serious, anyway.

  “Sounds like Mom’s still in with Lisa,” Booth said.

  Kathleen stuffed her balled hands into her shorts pockets. “I’ll wait here.”

  Fleeing held great appeal but would have changed nothing. Besides, she and Booth were adults. This might be unpleasant, but Kathleen’s mother had taught her years ago that discomfort often prepared the way for insight and wisdom. How that applied here, she wasn’t sure, but she certainly felt the discomfort.

  Still, when she compared this problem to her other difficulties, it paled. She and Booth had been caught in a private act, not an illegal one, she reminded herself. Mortification was perfectly normal. And the more Kathleen thought about it, the more she realized that this had to be even worse for Booth’s mother.

  Kathleen recalled being a let-me-die-on-the-spot intruder when she was about eight years old. She’d walked into the barn and caught her brother Clarke and another boy with their clothes mussed and their arms around each other. She’d been confused and embarrassed. Clarke had yelled at her, but later had begged her not to tell. As if she would. She knew her father would have beaten Clarke badly, and she would have felt responsible for tattling.

  Kathleen glanced up and saw Janet Rawlings enter the living room, carrying Lisa. Booth’s mother was tall and slender with a smooth, unlined face that would have been patrician if not for a slight overbite. She wore a green seersucker suit with a short-sleeved jacket, and Lisa was fascinated by her chunky white necklace. Booth stepped around his mother to stand with Kathleen.

  “I’ll handle this, babe,” he whispered. “It was my fault.”

  “I could have said no and left the room.” Kathleen wasn’t about to be a wuss about this. She took a deep breath and seized the initiative before Booth could protest. Extending her hand to Booth’s mother, she said, “I’m Kathleen Yardley. You have a beautiful granddaughter, Mrs. Rawlings, and a persuasive son, because I really wanted to hide in the bedroom.”

  Janet Rawlings looked immensely relieved that Kathleen had brought the subject into the open. “I wanted to run out of the apartment and back to my car. Please forgive me for causing what has to be one of the most horrifying moments in our lives.”

  “Worse than that time I drove the car into the lake?” Booth asked, smoothly diverting their attention. He took Lisa, who was trying to chew her grandmother’s beads, and put her onto the floor. The baby headed straight for the kitchen. In a few seconds she was banging the pan lids.

  Janet grimaced at Booth. “Raising you was one horrifying moment after another.”

  “I can just imagine,” Kathleen said.

  “Oh, Kathleen, I was so glad when Darlene turned out to be a girl. Another Booth—Well, I’m not sure I would have survived.”

  “Darlene was no angel,” Booth said defensively.

  “Darling, compared to you, she had a halo,” his mother replied. “I got gray very young.”

  Booth chuckled and Kathleen laughed, and the earlier awkwardness slipped away.

  The maternal pride in her glance at Booth revealed to Kathleen that all Janet’s worst
moments had been worth it.

  “She had no vision when it came to fast cars and how guys like to drive them,” Booth said.

  “It will be interesting to see your expansive ‘vision’ when Lisa’s a teenager,” Kathleen said.

  Janet laughed. “If he hasn’t scared away every boy who finds her attractive.”

  As if on cue, Lisa appeared. Using a nearby chair, she pulled herself to a standing position, teetered for a moment and then took a single step all on her own.

  “Is this her first step?” Janet asked, looking at Booth. At his nod, she clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, Booth, get your camera. Kathleen, isn’t this exciting?” She sailed over to Lisa, who promptly took two more steps, then teetered just as Booth snapped two shots. Janet scooped her up and hugged her close. Lisa, however, was having nothing to do with being held. She’d walked on her own, and she obviously wanted to try out this newfound accomplishment.

  The three of them watched as she teetered and tottered and mastered the distance between the chair and the couch. Each time, they all clapped, and Lisa giggled and clapped for herself.

  “Just wait until Mavis sees you, you little imp.” Janet glanced at Booth. “You did invite Kathleen to Mavis’s picnic, didn’t you?”

  “Mavis invited me,” Kathleen said, pleased to be part of this special time with Lisa.

  Booth scowled. “When?”

  “Before I went into—Uh, she called earlier to talk to you.”

  “Did she say about what?”

  “She was vague. Something about a suggestion of yours that was passed on to the right party and that he would call you.”

  “Sounds mysterious,” Janet said.

  “I do admit to being curious,” Kathleen added.

  Booth remained silent.

  “Guess that means he isn’t telling,” Janet said to Kathleen, clearly indicating this wasn’t new.

  “Hey, what can I say. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  The next half hour was spent exchanging stories about Booth, with Kathleen being deliberately vague about her own past. About her music, though, she was enthusiastically open. And when she mentioned trying to find an apartment large enough for her piano, Janet asked, “You’re moving?”

  “Yes, my stay with Gail was never intended to be permanent. She’s been in Missouri with her family. She called and said she was bringing her sister back with her for a visit. The apartment will be crowded for the three of us, so I decided to find a place of my own.”

  “One big enough for your piano,” Janet mused. “Booth mentioned that you play beautifully.”

  “You did?” Kathleen asked, pleased by the compliment and somewhat surprised that Booth had discussed her with his mother.

  He shrugged. “It was one of those times when Mom and I were trying to get Lisa quieted down. I mentioned that if you were home, you could put Lisa to sleep with your playing.”

  “Thanks a lot—I think.”

  “You know what I mean,” Booth grumbled.

  Kathleen grinned at him. While they’d been talking, Janet had been thoughtfully silent.

  Finally she looked at Kathleen, her face animated. “I might have just the place. Booth, you remember the Stokers? They have that lovely carriage house that overlooks the lake.”

  Booth rolled his eyes, saying to Kathleen, “Sophie Stoker sings opera when no one wants to listen and collects bad splashy canvases from struggling art-school dropouts.”

  “Booth, really, that’s unkind.”

  Booth shrugged. “She’s very naive, Mom, and she has too much money to spend on artists who should be working for a living instead of conning her into supporting them.”

  “She’s kind and generous. And I’m only too happy to remind you that it was Sophie who helped the police catch those art thieves last year.”

  “Can’t argue with that, but she’s still too naive for a woman her age.”

  Kathleen intervened. “I think she sounds fascinating. You say she has a carriage house, Mrs. Rawlings? It must be expensive.”

  “Please call me Janet. Actually, it’s not that costly. She and her husband, Percy, are rather precise about tenants. They are both very much into the arts and spend a lot of time visiting out-of-the-way museums looking for undiscovered artists. They don’t advertise the carriage house because they’re particular about who lives there. It’s been empty for a year or so, and when the Stokers do rent, it’s always a referral. Their goal is to provide nice surroundings for someone in a creative field without charging an outrageous rent. Sort of like a scholarship in progress. A pianist would be perfect.”

  She glanced at Booth, who was stretched out on the floor, with Lisa crawling over him. “Why didn’t you ever mention Sophie’s generosity to Kathleen? Then again, why didn’t you tell me she was looking for a place to live?”

  “Actually, I haven’t discussed moving with Booth,” Kathleen interjected.

  But Janet continued, obviously excited by her own suggestion. “Sophie leaves me in charge when she’s away, and if I’m lucky enough to find a candidate, she’s given me authority to rent the place. Booth? You knew all that.”

  “She could stay here,” he said blandly.

  Kathleen stared at him. “That’s the first time you’ve mentioned that.” Marriage and now this? Why?

  “She can’t live here, Booth.”

  Booth gave his mother a long, indulgent look. “Mom, I’m a big boy, and while I don’t want to upset you, who lives here is my business.”

  Janet said to Kathleen, “He thinks I fuss and treat him too much like a kid.”

  “You do. I love you and respect you, but I run my own life.”

  “I didn’t mean she can’t live here because you’re not married, I meant because you have no room for her piano.”

  Kathleen nodded. “She’s right.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Booth got to his feet, a frown darkening his eyes. “You would have moved in here with me if I had room for a piano you don’t even have?”

  “It’s in storage, but it’s one criterion for deciding where I want to live.”

  Kathleen knew she was being pulled along like one of Lisa’s toys on a string, and she would no doubt regret this later, but for the moment Booth’s suggestion enticed and intrigued her. “Then again, maybe I could stay here for a few days. It would help Gail out.”

  “Plus the carriage house will need to be made ready. Since it’s been empty for some time, it will need airing out and cleaning.”

  Booth wasn’t listening to his mother. To Kathleen he said, “Why in hell didn’t you say something?”

  “You never asked me,” Kathleen said primly. “I’m hardly going to walk in and say, ‘Do you want me to come and live with you?”’

  “So if I’d been able to read your mind and had asked, you would have said yes?”

  Thank God you can’t read my mind. “It certainly would have been an option.”

  “‘Would’ have been?”

  “On a temporary basis, yes. But now, with this suggestion of your mother’s, I want to take a look at the carriage house. It sounds ideal.”

  “I think I just lost out,” Booth grumbled. “And I didn’t even know I was in contention.”

  He was right, and her change of heart was abrupt, but she was weary of her circumstances and felt more secure than she had in weeks—especially since Booth hadn’t found her on the national criminal computer. And her feelings for Booth had found a steadier footing. She liked him, she desired him, and as for staying with him for a few days, well, she simply wanted to. “I’ve decided it’s time I started living my life my way.”

  “Amen.”

  “Well,” Janet said, “this sounds like some crucial decisions have been made. And you’ll love the carriage house, Kathleen.” She glanced at her watch. “How about going over now? That is, if you don’t have any other plans.”

  “We do,” Booth said.

  Kathleen knew exactly what he was talking about
—finishing what they had started. But this was an opportunity that might not come again. Kathleen didn’t want to miss it. “Booth, this won’t take long.”

  “It’s already taken too long.”

  “You could come with us,” Janet said.

  He sighed. “No, thanks. I’ve got some calls I have to make.”

  Kathleen got her canvas handbag, made a stop in the bathroom and returned a few minutes later. Lisa had found a magazine and was happily tearing pages. Booth had poured himself a mug of coffee; Janet was on the phone.

  Booth stepped close to her, his voice low. “You’re not going to change your mind? You are going to stay here for a few days?”

  “I won’t change my mind. But I’m curious why in the bedroom you were going to marry me, and out here I just got a live-in invitation.”

  “Living together isn’t as scary.”

  Kathleen stared at him for a few moments. What would he think if he knew the truth?

  “I might have surprised you,” she ventured, watching him closely.

  “Yeah, you might have. You’ve been doing that since I met you.”

  She laid her hands on his chest, feeling the heat beneath his T-shirt. “Living with you, even for a short time, is pretty serious. stuff.”

  “Never asked a woman to do that.”

  “Not Angie?”

  “Nope. Her parents would have been horrified. Believe me, it’s tough being in love with the town angel.”

  “She must have been wonderful.”

  “She was. But she was also human. It’s just that no one but me seemed to know it.”

  “Well, after finding me in bed with you, your mother certainly knows that I’m nothing like Angie.”

  “She likes you. Trust me, she never would have mentioned Sophie’s place if she didn’t. My guess is that catching us in bed made you very human, and by coming out and facing her—well, she was impressed.”

  “In the meantime—”

  “You’re going to sleep with me.”

  “You could be a gentleman and take the couch.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “We might not be any good together.”