The Bachelor's Baby Dilemma (Family Renewal)

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “That sounds fascinating. I like that idea.”

  “Not all of the dictionaries were the same. Some flowers had several different meanings, depending on what dictionary was being used.”

  “That could get confusing.”

  “I suspect that some of the messages were deciphered incorrectly.” She studied the seed packages again. “I have a book about floriography. Should I look these up?”

  “Sure.” Why not? He couldn’t begin to guess what sort of code would be unmasked. “I chose them randomly, so who knows what will surface?”

  “The book is over there.” She headed for the antique cart in the corner. “I think it’s on the bottom shelf.” She bent down and scanned a grouping of books. “Here it is.”

  Before she got started, he asked, “Will you look up the ivy plant and see if it’s in there?” He couldn’t help but wonder about the name Meagan had picked for her daughter.

  Candy went straight to a glossary in the back. “Let’s see. Oh, here we go. Ivy. The first sentiment is ‘wedded love.’ But it also means ‘friendship.’”

  He made a face. “Talk about a contradiction in terms. A man sends a woman a wreath of ivy because he regards her as a friend, and she assumes that he wants to marry her.”

  She laughed a little. “That would be a disaster. But I prefer ‘wedded love.’ Most women would, I suppose.”

  Most marriage-minded women, he thought, and apparently some divorced ones, too. He was already curious about her failed marriage, and now it was driven even deeper into his mind. But why wouldn’t it be, especially after the importance she’d placed all those years ago on being some future guy’s wife?

  She shook the seed packet of a flowering shrub and said, “Let’s see what this means.” After checking the glossary, she pursed her lips. “It says, ‘I am dangerous.’”

  “Is that supposed to apply to you or to me?”

  “To you. The person giving the plant.” She searched his gaze, her eyes locking onto his. “So, are you, Tanner?”

  Dangerous? A man capable of creating peril? How was he supposed to respond to something like that? “I guess it depends on how you define it.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t try to figure it out. Maybe it’s better to just take it at face value.”

  And assume that he was? “What do the rest of the seeds mean?” Mundane things, he hoped. He didn’t like feeling that his character was on the line.

  She went back to the book. “The next one is ‘protection from danger.’” Her voice turned light. “Oh, my goodness, how funny is that?”

  Oddly funny. But he was grateful for the reprieve. “First I tell you I’m dangerous, then I offer you protection from danger. I’m quite a guy.”

  “You certainly have a way with floriography.”

  “So it seems.”

  “Should I keep going?” she asked.

  “You might as well.” He was too curious to stop now.

  Again, she consulted the book. “Now you’re asking me to dance.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes. It says, ‘Will you dance with me?’”

  “I saw you dancing by yourself earlier.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “That was embarrassing.”

  “I thought you looked cute. And there’s no need to be embarrassed around me. I’ve seen you dance by yourself before.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “Performing on stage is different from assuming that you’re alone in your kitchen.”

  He shrugged, trying to get himself off the hook. “As long as we’re talking dances, do you remember what kind of flowers that were on the corsage I gave you when I took you to the prom?”

  “Yes, I remember. A girl doesn’t forget the first time a boy gives her a corsage.” She glanced at her wrist, as if the ornament was still there. “It was a white carnation with baby’s breath.”

  “And what do those mean?”

  She checked the glossary. “White carnations symbolize innocence.” After a slight pause, she added, “That’s what baby’s breath means, too.”

  “Go figure. A dangerous boy and an innocent girl.” He was beginning to enjoy these messages, to see them in a whole new way. “Maybe there is something to this flower-language stuff.”

  She closed the book with a soft whoosh, fluttering its pages. “You’re only saying that because I got stuck with the innocent mantle.”

  “Would you rather have a wild mantle?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Just tell me what flower symbolizes a wanton woman, and I’ll give you one of those the next time I take you dancing.”

  “You aren’t taking me anywhere, smarty.”

  “According to the floriography, I already asked you to dance.” He bowed like a gentleman caller who was going to waltz her around the kitchen.

  She laughed. “Go use your charms on someone else.”

  “Don’t be hasty.” Still bent at the waist, he peered up at her. “Have you forgotten my offer of protection?”

  “From the dangerous cad that you are?” She moved away from him. “I think it’s time for me to finish cleaning the corn.”

  “Sure. Go ahead. Just let me suffer here alone.”

  She rolled her eyes and returned to the sink. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

  All jokes aside, now he wanted to take her dancing. He wanted to sweep her off to bed, too, to lose himself in her innocence or wildness or whatever role she chose to play. Of course, he’d already surmised that she wasn’t the play-around type. That didn’t stop him from wishing otherwise, though.

  Now Tanner needed a diversion, something to take his mind off doing bad things to her. “I think I’ll grab some chips and dip.”

  He prepared a plate and stood off to the side, trying to clear the sexual toxins from his pores. But it didn’t work. The spices in the guacamole were as sizzling as he’d assumed they would be, making his blood hotter.

  She went back to the corn, leaving him to his own devices. He drank the rest of his lemonade, wishing he could douse himself with it instead.

  Luckily, Eric and Dana and their son soon arrived, and Tanner gladly redirected his focus.

  He and Eric shook hands, and introductions were made. Dana said hello and offered a big smile. She was a shapely blonde who appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties, whereas Eric was in his forties. Tanner hadn’t expected an age difference. But it didn’t matter. They looked natural together.

  As for Jude, he was a cute little pistol, with his father’s Native coloring and his mother’s bright blue eyes. He squirmed and laughed and tried to leap out of Dana’s arms to get to Candy.

  “Canny!” he squealed in his toddler speak.

  “Jude!” she replied with equal enthusiasm and reached for him. Just as quickly, he was looped around her, puckering up for a kiss. Smack. Smack. The exchange was deliberately loud and admirably sweet.

  “He adores her,” Dana said with pride.

  Tanner merely nodded. He couldn’t seem to stop watching them. Jude rested his head against Candy’s shoulder and flashed a set of devilish dimples. In that cozy instant, Tanner wondered, once again, why she hadn’t had kids of her own. But mostly he wondered about her ex and why their marriage had gone south.

  “Is everyone ready to barbecue?” Candy asked, adjusting the imp in her arms.

  “Yes, let’s do it,” Dana replied, reaching for a platter.

  Eric helped carry the food, too. He also offered to fire up the grill, and he and his wife went outside together. Yogi followed them out the door. Somewhere between the floriography and Eric’s family arriving, Tanner had lost track of the dog.

  And now he and Candy were alone in the kitchen with the other couple’s child. Jude was still nuzzled against her shoulder, using it like a pillow.

  The boy
cocked his head and pointed to Tanner. “You?”

  “Me?”

  “He wants to know your name,” Candy said.

  Tanner cleared his throat. He didn’t know how to have a conversation with a toddler. Too many years had passed since Meagan was little, and as vivid as his memories about Ella were, she was too young to have started talking before she died.

  He gave it his best shot. “I’m Tanner.”

  “Tanny,” the boy replied.

  Canny for Candy, and Tanny for him. Was Jude lumping them together in his young mind? Should he correct him?

  Tanner looked to Candy for help. But she was biting back a grin, as if she thought it was funny. He was outnumbered. He’d probably been outsmarted, too. For all he knew, Jude was a prodigy who could speak like a scholar.

  The three of them went outside to join Eric and Dana, and the barbecue got under way.

  Eric cooked the steaks. He also placed the tofu kebabs Candy had fixed for herself on the grill.

  When they sat down to eat, Jude reached for his mother, then his father, then went back to Candy, taking turns on each adult’s lap. Tanner was getting dizzy just watching him. It was like musical chairs without the music.

  As he watched the scene unfold, he felt slighted that he’d been left out. Yet he was relieved, too. He had mixed emotions about being part of Jude’s hold-me circle. He wasn’t sure if he could’ve handled it. But that didn’t stop him from analyzing every move the little tyke made.

  Jude nibbled from his mom’s plate. He even ate bits of tofu off of Candy’s. But his favorite activity was squeezing pieces of fruit between his fingers.

  When Jude caught Tanner watching him, the kid perked to attention and extended both hands, offering him globs of mashed-up watermelon.

  “He doesn’t want that, sweetie,” his mother quickly said, taking the mess away from him.

  Jude stuck out his lower lip, and even though he didn’t cry, Tanner felt bad. To make up for it, he squished up some of the fruit on his own plate and showed it to Jude. For an encore, Tanner popped a grape into the air and let it land on the table, before pouncing on it with his thumb.

  The boy broke into a belly laugh and clapped.

  “See?” Eric said to Tanner with a laugh much tamer than his son’s. “You’re already getting the hang of this.”

  “I’m getting the hang of causing trouble.” But it felt good to score points. He wiped his hands on his napkin while Dana attempted to clean Jude’s. Since Tanner was on a roll, he said, “I promised Yogi some of my steak.” He turned to Candy. “Can I feed her here at the table?”

  She nodded and smiled, and he suspected that she was impressed with the way he’d mimicked Jude’s squishy fruit antics. It didn’t take much to please this crowd.

  Tanner cut up treat-size bites of his steak and called Yogi over to the table. The dog had been waiting patiently. Jude craned his neck to watch, applauding every time the dog caught a bite. Yogi preened under the attention. Tanner knew just how she felt.

  After everyone had finished their meal, Eric went out to his vehicle to get a mini-playpen or travel crib or whatever they were referred to as these days. He set it up in the shade, unfolding it easily.

  It was a pretty cool contraption, and Jude seemed excited to see it. In he went, with a boatload of toys.

  “I’m going to have to get one of those,” Tanner said.

  “You’re going to have to get lots of stuff,” Dana assured him with her twentysomething smile.

  “I can shop with you,” Candy said, sounding like the friend she was fast becoming.

  Grateful for the offer, he said, “That would be great.” It made him feel less alone, less intimidated by his future plight. “But we’ll have to wait until I move in here.”

  “Did you know I used to live here?” Dana asked. She gestured to the guesthouse. “I was one of Candy’s tenants.”

  “My very best tenant,” Candy put in.

  Eric interjected, “It’s where Dana lived when we started dating.”

  His wife shot him a sly glance. “By dating, he means it’s where I lived when we had our one-night stand that produced Jude.”

  Eric shook his head, but he laughed, too. “Dana has no filter. She just says whatever is on her mind. I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

  Tanner glanced at the guesthouse, then at Jude, who was tossing his toys against the side of his cage. The little hellion had been conceived on this property?

  Dana said, “Eric and I met at the diner where I work. I’m a waitress, but I’ve been studying all sorts of things in school. I can’t decide what I’m going to be when I grow up.”

  Tanner doubted that she was ever going to grow up, but that was part of her charm. “I have a degree in business. It was one of those general choices that seemed to fit.”

  “I have a degree in riding around in convertibles in parades,” Candy said, making a crack about her beauty-queen days. After mimicking a robotic wave, she added, “I can bat my eyelashes, too.”

  “I never minded when you batted them at me,” Tanner told her.

  She ducked her head, and he realized that he’d just flirted with her, and in front of Eric and Dana, no less. He couldn’t backpedal, so he shot her a wicked smile, reminding her that he was the dangerous guy, and she was the innocent girl.

  Dana watched the exchange with far too much interest, making the moment more obvious.

  “Where did you two meet?” she asked.

  Tanner waited for Candy to reply, but she merely smiled. He smiled, too, more softly this time. Then he said, “It was at the bowling alley down the street from where I used to live. I was there by myself, killing time. It was a weekday, after school, and I was bored out of my mind.” He added more detail, more memory. “I’d gone there with the intention to play pool, to act all tough and brooding like a hustler, but the billiards tables were full, so I decided to bowl instead.”

  “That’s not nearly as sexy,” Dana said, shooting him a silly smirk.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, but I was a slick bowler, if I do say so myself.”

  Candy finally chimed in. “And guess who was in the lane next to him?” She answered her own question. “Proper, well-behaved me, of course. But I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t with a group of friends, either. I was with my grandparents.”

  Dana laughed, shoving her thick blond hair away from her face. “Talk about teenage mortification.”

  Tanner leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t care who she was with. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.”

  Candy blew out her breath, as if she was reliving the feeling. “He was making me so nervous, I kept flubbing up and getting gutter balls.”

  Tanner finished the story. “Her grandpa finally told me to just ask for her dang number and quit screwing up her game.”

  Eric jumped into the conversation. “Grandpa sounded like a cool guy.”

  “Sometimes he was grumpy,” Candy said. “But he was always there for me. I miss him and Grandma.”

  “They seemed to like me,” Tanner said. “But her mother didn’t.” He asked Candy, “Does she know I’m buying your house?”

  She shook her head. “No. I haven’t told her yet.”

  “I wonder what she’ll think.”

  “I don’t know. But I’m sure she’ll have something to say about it.”

  No doubt, Tanner thought. Her mom was highly critical and snidely opinionated. Her name was Jonelle, but people called her Jo. He’d always figured that Candy had gotten her gentle personality from her father, even if she’d never really known him. As for her looks, he assumed that gene had come from her dad, too. Jo wasn’t an attractive woman.

  Candy stood up and moved away from the table. “There’s homemade pu
dding in the fridge if anyone wants some.”

  Just like that, the mother conversation ended. But it was just as well. There was no point in making this about Jo.

  Jude squealed when the pudding was served. It started off fine, with Dana feeding it to him, but then he tried to take the spoon away from her and do it himself. Clearly, he wasn’t old enough to have acquired those skills and the pudding went everywhere.

  Somehow, it turned into a game. No temper tantrums, just lots of giggles. Halfway through the bowl, his face was covered in tapioca. He had it in his hair and on his clothes, too. The bib he was wearing barely helped.

  His parents joined forces, cleaning him up and dressing him in a new outfit. Changing his wet diaper was part of the ordeal, but Jude didn’t want to hold still for any of it. He kicked his feet and eyeballed Tanner, as if calling upon his partner in crime to misbehave, too.

  The party wound down, and a fresh and sparkling Jude made his way onto Tanner’s lap. Out of the blue, the kid decided to hug him. Caught by surprise, he returned the embrace and nuzzled the boy’s fluffy hair.

  It was sweet and tender, making him feel as if he’d just scaled a mountain. Only when Jude pulled away and he could no longer feel the boy’s heartbeat tapping warmly against his own, Tanner went into fear mode. He reached out trying to keep Jude there, but the child toddled off, leaving Tanner much too alone.

  Chapter Five

  After Eric and his family left, Tanner helped Candy clean up. She had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, but she was rife with emotion. She’d seen the way he’d wrapped his arms around Jude, the warm expression on his face while he’d brushed his cheek against her godson’s hair. She’d also noticed how lost he’d seemed when Jude had run away from him. But she wasn’t sure how to broach it, so she started with casual dialogue.

  “Thanks for helping me out,” she said, as they put leftovers away in the kitchen.

  “It’s the least I can do, considering you hosted this get-together with me in mind.”

  “It was fun. I enjoyed it.” She paused to deliver her next line, hoping to ease him into a deeper conversation. “You were certainly a hit with Jude.”