by Susan Meier
Bella gurgled.
“You’re right. Let’s hope he gets accustomed to it.” She ruffled Bella’s soft tuft of hair. “What am I thinking? You’ll get him accustomed to it.”
She would. Because Bella had the rest of her life to worm her way into his heart.
Which was a very good reminder to Claire. With everything Matt did, she liked him more. Try as he might to be grouchy and sullen, he was growing accustomed to Bella and enjoying being a dad. And that was very attractive. But, though he’d accommodated a baby in his life, this wasn’t a guy who would fall head over heels in love with a woman. She’d be lucky if he remembered her name after she left. She wasn’t here to make him happy, worm her way into his heart or fall in love. She was here for the baby. And she’d do well to remember that.
Claire stayed in the kitchen with Bella and finished the mashed potatoes. When the delivery man left, she unwrapped the additional toys that had arrived that afternoon. She showed Matt how to dump the colored rings from the cone onto the floor and help Bella rearrange them on the cone again. With all the playing, Bella grew tired more quickly than usual and Claire and Matt just barely got her bathed before she fell asleep at seven.
They walked into the kitchen silently. Both of them probably as tired as Bella, and both of them lost in thought.
Matt went directly to the oven. “With her going to bed this early, is she going to sleep tonight?”
Claire shrugged. “Hard to say. But when a baby is falling asleep on your arm, you can’t really keep her awake.”
He set the roast on the stove. The delicious aroma floated over to Claire and her stomach growled. She set the table as he carved the roast. She got the salad from the refrigerator and put the mashed potatoes into the microwave for a quick reheat.
They sat down to eat as silent as they’d been while putting together their meal.
After a minute of quiet, Matt rose. He pressed a few buttons on the panel containing the intercom and video feed from the gate, and soft music filled the kitchen.
“No reason for us to be completely uncivilized,” he said as he returned to his seat.
“Right.” She sucked in a breath. Obviously, the quiet in the room got to him, too. But they’d made a promise not to talk about personal things, and neither one of them wanted to risk it. Of course, his job was probably a safe subject.
“Do you do a lot of traveling for your business?”
“Only because I want to. If you’re worried about me leaving Bella, I can arrange my schedule so I don’t have to.” He smiled. “People will come to me.”
She nodded, but the urge to tease him rose up in her, so strong and so natural, it nearly stole her breath. Since that kiss, they’d focused on Bella. Hadn’t teased. Hadn’t meandered into personal territory. And that had worked out very well. No yelling. No hurt feelings. She would not overstep those boundaries.
“Good point.”
“So what about you? Have they done okay without you at Dysart Adoptions this week?”
“Easily. Joni and I are basically the only two caseworkers, but with our receptionist we’re enough. We go through a lot of slow seasons. We’re in one now.”
“Me, too.” He dug into his mashed potatoes. “I love what I do, though.”
“What exactly do you do?”
“Buy and sell things. Stocks. Companies.”
Comfortable with their safe topic, they talked about his business dealings through the remainder of dinner. She learned he’d gotten his nickname “Iceman” because he could be totally heartless about firing upper management.
Which made her laugh. “Seriously. Who gets all upset about a guy being asked to leave a big corporation when he goes with a golden parachute?”
“You’re forgetting who gave me the nickname... Other CEOs. The very people I fire.” He frowned. “And we forgot dessert.” He glanced over at her. “We don’t have dessert.”
“You have pudding cups.”
“That’s right! I do.”
He walked to the refrigerator, pulled out two pudding cups and ambled back. “Vanilla or chocolate?”
“Chocolate.”
“Great. Vanilla’s actually my favorite.”
He handed her the pudding cup and took his seat again.
She peeled off the lid, took a bite and groaned in ecstasy. “These are great.”
“No point in having a secret vice if it isn’t great.”
She laughed. “I never thought of that.”
They finished their pudding and she automatically got up to clear the table. “You go make your calls or whatever you need to do.” The baby monitor had stayed silent. Bella was okay. And she could wash a few dishes.
But he shook his head. “I’m not going to leave you to clean up alone. You’re helping me enough.”
Warmth spiraled through her. She’d always known he appreciated her help, but it never hurt to hear the words.
After gathering the dishes, she walked them to the sink.
His eyebrows rose. “You’re not using the dishwasher?”
“For a couple dishes? We can have these done in five minutes. The dishwasher will take forty and tons more water.”
As she filled a sink, he found a dishtowel, slung it over his shoulder, then finished clearing the table.
When the sink was filled to capacity with dirty dishes and sparkling bubbles, she washed a plate, rinsed it and put it in the dish drainer. “Somebody must wash dishes in here. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a drainer.”
“I think my cook prefers to wash the pots.”
She peeked at him through her peripheral vision. “Really?”
“She’s very fussy about her pots.”
“Makes sense, I guess. I don’t cook much.” She glanced at him again. “Not much reason to cook for one.”
“Unless you’re hungry.”
“I eat a big lunch.”
“Oh, so in other words if you ever got married and had someone to cook for, you’d start eating supper and get as round as Bella?”
She gaped at him. “Did you just call Bella fat?”
“She’s not fat. She’s healthy.”
Her eyebrow rose. “And I’m not?”
His mouth fell open. “I didn’t say that!”
She caught a handful of soap bubbles in her cupped hand and flung them at him. She’d intended to hit his T-shirt. Instead, she got his nose.
The expression on his face was priceless. But shock quickly morphed into challenge. “You wanna go?”
She eeked. “No! You’re the one who called me fat.”
“I called Bella fat and you unhealthy. According to you.” He reached down, scooped out some bubbles and flipped them into her face.
She gasped and, without thought, got more bubbles and flung them at him. “You said what you said.”
“You misinterpreted what I said.” He grabbed a bigger handful of suds. With a quick twist of his wrist, he got her hair.
“Hey!” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t mess up my hair!”
“You weren’t worried about my nose.”
“Okay. Fine. If that’s how you want it, this is war!”
“Ha! You think you can beat me! I know every corner of this kitchen. And my sister Charlotte and I were very adept at avoiding our other sisters when we were younger.” He filled an available cup with water and darted around the table, behind a chair. “Bring it.”
“You wouldn’t throw an entire cup of water at me!”
“Guess again.”
“And who’s going to clean up the mess?”
He shrugged. “Us. When we’re done with our war.”
Her face contorted. “Why throw the water when you end up having to clean it up?”
“For the fun of the war.” He walked from behind the table. “You really didn’t have much of a childhood.”
She shrugged. “Looks like I didn’t.”
“Great.” He dribbled some water on her head.
Expecting his sympathy
and getting a shower, she jumped back sputtering. “What are you doing!”
“We’re at war, remember? If I were you, I’d get a cup.”
Her eyes narrowed, but he only grinned. Knowing he wouldn’t stay passive long, she raced to the sink and got a cup of water, but she paused. “This is ridiculous.”
She watched his face sort of deflate. Cup in hand, he walked to the sink, clearly disappointed that he’d failed in getting her to play. When he was close enough, she sloshed the water out of her cup and onto his shirt.
He gasped and jumped back. “You tricked me.”
She refilled her cup and scampered away. “All is fair in love and war.”
“Oh, this is so on.”
She ran to the kitchen island, shielding herself behind it and the rows of pots that hung above it.
“You have to come out sometime.”
“Not really. I think I can safely protect myself behind this island for the rest of the war.”
She bounced out for one quick slosh toward him, the way an Old West gunfighter bounces from behind a tree just long enough to shoot, then was back behind her island again.
He bent away from the spray. “You missed me.”
“I’ll get you next time.”
He nudged his chin in the direction of her cup. “Not without water.” He glanced around. “Let’s see. I have a whole cup of water and I stand between you and the sink.” He smiled evilly. “Who’s winning now?”
She said, “Eek!” and dodged to the right.
When she got to the open space in the overhead pots, he flung his water at her and got her on the chest, soaking her T-shirt.
She glanced down at it in amazement. Then up at him. Then burst out laughing. “All right. One of us has to call a truce.”
He walked to the sink. Refilled his cup. Displayed it for her to see. “Or one of us has to surrender.”
“Okay. Now you’re just being childish.”
“And throwing cups of water wasn’t? We’re just having fun...and I think you’re trying to talk your way out of losing the war.”
“I’m trying to talk us back to adulthood.”
“Why?” He glanced around. “No one’s here. No one cares.”
But she cared. When he behaved like a silly, fun guy, strange feelings of warmth and happiness danced through her. And fantasies began to spin in her head. She’d never wanted a stuffy, formal family. She wanted a happy family. With a happy dad. And right now he was behaving as if he could be one.
But he couldn’t. He was Wall Street’s Iceman. This little thing they were doing with the water had to be an aberration.
She raised her hands in surrender. “All right. I surrender.”
A look of disappointment flitted across his face, but he didn’t put his cup down. Like the town sheriff arresting the bad guy, he brandished it like a gun. “Walk your cup to the sink.”
She laughed. “This is ridiculous.”
“No, this is how a smart man ends a war, especially when his opponent has already duped him once.”
She giggled. “Really? Seriously? I have to walk my cup to the sink.”
“And dump out the contents.”
As she ambled to the sink, he edged around, so he could see her every move.
She laughed again.
“Now dump it out.”
She poured the remaining water from her cup into the empty sink.
“And put the cup into the dishwater in the other sink.”
Pressing her lips together to stop another giggle, she put the cup in the water.
“Now step away from the sink.”
“You really get into this role playing, don’t you?”
“Charlotte and I rarely lost a water battle.”
“Sounds like your childhood was fun.”
He said, “It was. But I’m still watching you. Put both hands up and step away from the sink.”
This time she let the gale of laughter roll out of her. She walked far enough away from the sink to appease him. “That was fun. That was really fun.”
Watching her warily, he set his cup on the sink. “Yeah, it was.”
She glanced down at herself. “Except I’m soaked.”
Following the line of her vision, he saw that her sodden T-shirt had molded to her, outlining her perfect breasts. The wonderful feeling of joy enveloping them suddenly shifted. It was clear she’d never had an ounce of fun as a kid and something inside him wanted to show her all of that. Show her how to have fun.
Him. The Iceman. He wanted to show somebody how to have fun.
He hadn’t thought about fun in twenty years.
Yet she made him want to have fun again.
And if that wasn’t confusing enough, looking at her, dripping wet and incredibly sexy, his definition of fun had morphed from water battles to adult games in his amazing shower. He wanted to make love but not in a serious, purely physical way. In a fun, joyful way.
He stepped back, cleared his throat. “You are wet. Why don’t you go upstairs first and get a shower? I’ll be up in a minute.”
She smiled like a happy child. “Yeah. Guess I should.”
She turned without another thought for the dishes or cleaning up the water they’d tossed at each other. But as Matt grabbed a mop—from a closet he found after searching around awhile—he told himself he didn’t mind cleaning up after their water battle.
He needed to be away from her for a few minutes. Not only had she awakened urges in him he hadn’t felt...well, ever. But also, water fighting with her reminded him of happier times. Magnificently simple times when he’d thought his sisters were his sisters. When there were no half anythings. And everybody loved a good water battle in the pool, the ocean or the bathroom.
He grinned stupidly. They were bad kids, but he’d loved that part of his childhood.
His grin faded. He missed his sisters. Not the adult versions, but the kids he used to play with.
A great ache filled his chest.
He missed being happy.
But when he finished cleaning the kitchen he went to his room and absently ambled into the bathroom; he forgot he had a guest. He found Claire brushing her teeth in front of one of the bowls of his double-bowl sinks and his thoughts swung back in the other direction.
In her pretty pink pajamas, with her little pink toes sticking out and her big brown eyes still shining with laughter, she was the epitome of that perfect mom he’d suspected she’d be. Happy. Filled with joy. Waiting for her husband to come to bed. So they could—
He jumped back. Not out of embarrassment that he’d walked in on her in the bathroom. But because that vision scared him. After Ginny, he always pictured himself alone—believed he deserved to be alone. Now in a few days one little slip of a woman had him thinking about family, kids, fun...and sex filled with emotion. Not just physical pleasure, but physical pleasure wrapped in a blanket of happiness.
This woman scared him.
“I’ll just go back out and wait until you’re finished.”
She spit in the sink. That alone should have had him running. Instead, it felt very natural, very normal.
“No. No. I’m just about done. You can come in.”
He hesitated, then walked in. This was ridiculous. How could one person change what you felt about everything? In four days? From Monday to Thursday? And could he really count Monday, since he hadn’t gotten to Dysart Adoptions until after four? It was ridiculous.
He ambled to the sink, got his toothbrush and rolled some paste on it.
Towel-drying her hair, she said, “So tomorrow, we interview nannies.”
He nodded.
“That should be easy. Especially after the water battle.”
She caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled at him. “Now, we both know you’re looking for someone fun. Someone who can play with Bella.”
Yeah, her. He was looking for her. She might not have played games as a child, but she knew how to play with Bella and she’d happily play
ed with him. She longed to play. And he longed to teach her to play. To be happy. To be part of a family.
His eyes locked on hers in the mirror. He felt a thousand longings spring up, a thousand possibilities and a thousand things he never in a million years believed he’d feel.
It was everything he could do not to run out of the bathroom.
CHAPTER TEN
THE next morning, Matt barely looked at Claire when they woke up with Bella. He silently changed the baby’s diaper and carried her downstairs.
Claire’s heart stuttered a bit. She’d fallen asleep foolishly happy. They’d had fun in the water battle. And she’d seen that playful, wonderful side of him again. Having him withdraw stung, even if it did remind her to watch herself. She wasn’t supposed to like him too much. He was wrong for her. The bits and pieces of Happy Matt that she saw came and went. They were too fleeting to be dependable. And he didn’t want her, either. Otherwise, he’d have been happy this morning. Flirty as he was the night before. Not sullen, as if he regretted everything they’d done.
She prepared Bella’s cereal and, again, Matt insisted he be the one to feed her.
She gave him the spoon and sat on the chair across the table from them.
“Here you are, sweetie,” he crooned, sliding the bite of cereal into the baby’s mouth. Bella smiled sleepily before opening her mouth wide to take it.
Matt laughed. “You make this easy, Miss Bella.”
Claire smiled, too. It might not be wise for her to get involved with him, but when he wasn’t being Wall Street’s Iceman, he was definitely nicer than he believed himself to be.
She frowned. This was another thing Ginny had probably seen while married to him. Buried deep down inside of Matt there really was a nice guy.
But if he was always working, how could Ginny have seen that? When had she seen nice Matt? When they met? Had they gone to school together?
“How’d you meet Bella’s mom?”
Preoccupied with feeding Bella, Matt said, “We took the same train to work.”
She frowned. That didn’t give Ginny much chance to see him as a nice guy. “Really? You rode a train?”
“Subway. I lived in New York City back then.”
“It’s still hard to see you on a train.”
