Brant’s stomach hit the ground. He felt helpless. Molly was right. If he so much as laid a hand on the worthless scum, he’d be the one spending the night in jail. He couldn’t let that happen. Too many people counted on him.
“That my kid?”
No one answered.
He started toward Molly. “Guess I got myself a son.”
“Jason,” Lainey begged. “I’ll—”
“You’ll nothing,” he spat. He turned his attention back to Molly. “I’ll take the kid off your hands, and y’all will never see him again, ’cause unlike his mother, I ain’t headed to no rehab for drunk driving.”
“Jason, please.”
“That kid’s as much mine as yours. My name’s on his birth certificate.”
“You think contributing sperm makes you a father?” Brant asked. “You couldn’t be bothered to marry your son’s mother or even show up for his birth. You’ve never held him or walked with him at two in the morning when he couldn’t sleep. You’re a poor excuse for a father.”
Lainey gave a small cry when Jason took another couple of steps toward Molly.
Molly pivoted on her heel, the baby on her far side out of Jason’s reach, her expression fierce. “We’ve never met, but don’t you dare come any closer.”
Jason stopped, his smirk sliding away.
“You’ve made a huge mistake. I came with Brant today to see his sister. But this baby? He’s my baby, and you will not lay a hand on him. Not unless you want to grow old behind bars for attempted kidnapping.”
Lainey jumped in. “She’s right. My baby is safe and being well taken care of, for which I’ll be eternally grateful.” Her eyes met Brant’s, then Molly’s, in turn.
Brant stepped forward. “It’s time you leave, Jason. If not, I’ll have one of the nurses call security.”
“You haven’t heard the end of this or seen the last of me.” The door slammed behind him.
Molly sank onto a chair, shaking so badly, she didn’t think her legs would hold her.
Brant took Jax and handed him to a crying Lainey.
When the baby started to cry, too, Brant said, “Lainey, pull yourself together. You’re upsetting Jax.”
Lainey swiped at her face and apologized for her behavior, for Jason, and for the responsibility she’d dumped on Brant.
“It’s okay, honey,” Brant assured her. “The important thing is for you to get well again.”
“I will.”
He looked from one woman to the other. “I haven’t introduced you two, have I? I’m sorry. Sis, I’d like you to meet Molly Stiles. Molly, my sister, Lainey.”
Lainey’s eyes glistened with tears as they met Molly’s. “I’m so glad to meet you, and I can’t thank you enough for today.”
“No thanks needed. I’m not sure Jason believed me, but there was enough doubt that he stopped. How about I find some cold drinks for us?”
Deep, dark sadness crawled through Molly as she left, giving brother and sister privacy. On her way to the cafeteria, she reminded herself this whole mess was the result of operating without a plan.
She stayed away for an hour, wanting to give Brant, Lainey, and Jax a good visit. Molly figured her chat with Lainey could wait till the next trip.
*
Neither she nor Brant had much to say as they left the hospital, and the ride home was very quiet.
When they pulled to the curb, Brant started to get out. Molly laid a hand on his arm. “Stay. I’m good. It’s time you and this baby get home.”
“Mol, thanks again for today. Talk about thinking fast on your feet. I’m sorry we put you in that position.”
“There’s absolutely nothing for you to be sorry about. You’ve been left to mop up a mess you didn’t make.” She leaned across the console and dropped a kiss on his lips, one that lasted longer than she’d meant. “Later.”
Let him think about that tonight.
Chapter 13
Molly stared at the ceiling, ignoring the weak morning light. She hated conflict, and yesterday’s was like a slap in the face, reminding her of the fights and turmoil between her and Keith. Movies and romance books painted love with a brush full of sunshine and promises of a happily-ever-after. In real life? Relationships were more like a game of Russian roulette.
When Brant asked for an explanation for the whole thirty-years-old thing, she hadn’t given him one—because she didn’t have one. It had all seemed so simple, had made so much sense. Now? She didn’t know.
Everything had become a jumble.
Bubbles, sensing her human was awake, hopped onto the bed, purring and rubbing against her.
“Enough with the self-pity, right? I’m officially declaring a be-good-to-Molly day, and it starts now.” She nuzzled her cat, stroked a hand down her back, and smiled when Bubbles arched into it. “First on the agenda? Tansy’s Sweet Dreams for a truly decadent breakfast treat. Want some food before I go?”
Food. The magic word. Bubbles leaped to the floor and made a mad dash to the kitchen. Molly fed her, took a quick shower, and dressed for work in a black knee-length wool skirt, a cowl-necked sweater, and leather flats. No heels. Today was all about comfort.
Hopping into her Mini, she headed to Tansy’s for a fresh-out-of-the-oven croissant and her favorite tea steeped and served in one of her friend’s beautiful teapots. Maybe she’d ask for the one covered in tiny violets.
“Good Morning Beautiful” came over the radio, and she sighed. What would it be like to wake beside Brant? To open her eyes to him after sharing the night? She patted her heart. Whew.
Yes, she was the one applying the brakes, but only because he wanted a fling, something temporary.
Wait. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?
No. She didn’t even have time for that right now.
Confused, she rubbed her forehead.
She needed caffeine. Food. Because she definitely felt light-headed. Like that clichéd moth, she was drawn to something beautiful that would only bring hurt.
Pulling up to the curb in front of the pale-lavender and green Victorian, Molly simply sat, enjoying the view. With its manicured lawn and gardens, the wide veranda with the come-sit-awhile rockers, and the homey feeling, Sweet Dreams was exactly that. The perfect spot to relax and dream sweet dreams.
Tansy had lived upstairs for a while, but after she and Beck married in a small ceremony in the sweeping backyard, she and her young daughter had moved into his house. They’d talked about renting out the apartment, but Molly doubted that would ever happen.
Stepping inside the bakery, Molly found herself immersed in friends and neighbors. Heavenly smells of fresh coffee, cinnamon, and orange wafted to her. Since the morning was cool, the original fireplace, now converted to gas, added to the warm ambience. The tablecloths and centerpieces shouted Valentine’s Day. It was a little early, but Tansy argued that the more her customers had romance on the brain, the more business Magnolia Brides would garner. She’d filled glass snifters with red jelly beans, then arranged happy red silk tulips in them.
Exactly what Molly didn’t need, a reminder she’d have no one to spend the special day with. Brant, with his smoldering kisses and touches that set her aflame, roared into mind.
Okay. Enough, Molly.
She wasn’t anyone’s valentine—her choice. And she’d come here to spoil herself, not to wallow. With that in mind, she greeted Jimmy Don with a huge smile. “Sheriff, how are you?”
“Doin’ fine, Molly. You sure got lots of tongues waggin’ about that new window display.” He shot her a thumbs-up. “I like it. So does the missus.”
“Thanks.” Several others stopped her on the way to the counter where Tansy chatted and smiled while handing out specialty coffees and fabulous baked goods.
Her face lit up when she spotted Molly. “What brings you here?”
“I’m indulging myself.”
“Well, you came to the right spot. Tea?”
“Yes, please, in your little violet pot, an
d I’ll have a chocolate croissant.”
“Find a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.” She frowned. “You look tired. Sleep okay?”
“Yesterday was…” She trailed off. Not her place to air Brant’s problems. “No, not really.”
She found an empty table by the big stone fireplace and smiled her thanks when Tansy delivered her goodies. Yesterday’s fiasco replayed over and over in a loop. The day had started so well, the trip to Savannah almost fun. Even Jax had been in a good mood.
But the ride home? Grim.
The only reason Jason hadn’t argued with her was because, when it came right down to it, the jerk couldn’t identify his own child, and how sad was that? He didn’t deserve Jax, and Jax certainly didn’t deserve the father he’d been stuck with.
While Molly toyed with her croissant, Tansy, having no new customers, slid into the chair across from her.
“Something wrong with that?” Tansy nodded toward the flaky pastry.
“What? Oh, no. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Not really a lie.
She jumped to a safe topic. “Brant found a house for himself and the baby. Cole set him up in Lem Gilmore’s empty rental.”
“I heard. I didn’t think Brant intended to stay long enough to want an actual house.”
“Me, either, but he wants to stay close till he sees what all his sister might need.” She didn’t mention that Brant might buy property in Misty Bottoms. Again, not her story to tell. Still, guilt nagged at her for holding back from her friend.
Tansy raised a finger in a wait-one-minute and made the rounds with her coffeepot, topping off customers’ cups. Slipping back into her chair, she said, “If he needs help with the baby, he should call Lucinda’s day care. My Gracie Bella loves it there.”
“Good idea.” Molly stirred her tea absently. “In the meantime, Brant has this house, but nothing, absolutely nothing, for the baby. Jax is sleeping in a dresser drawer.”
Tansy rolled her eyes. “Leave it to a man to think of that.” She tapped her fingertips on the table. “You know, Darlene over at Quilty Pleasures might be able to help. Her niece had twins, and if I’m not wrong, she kept some of their things.” She plucked a phone from her apron pocket.
After she dialed, she handed it to Molly.
“I don’t know her very well,” Molly whispered, holding the phone away from her.
“She’s really nice. Honest. She lent you that—”
“Hello, Darlene?” She scowled at a smiling Tansy. “It’s Molly from That Little White Dress. I’m at Tansy’s, and we were talking. Um, I have a question. Actually, it’s a favor. For Brant Wylder.”
Darlene’s dogs, Moonshine and Mint Julep, barked in the background.
“Hush, you two,” Darlene admonished. “They want a doggie biscuit. But you’ve already had one this morning, haven’t you?” she asked the Cairn terriers, reverting to baby talk. “Do I know Brant?”
“Probably not. He’s been in a couple of weddings at Magnolia House, including last weekend’s. He and Cole were fraternity brothers.” Without going into detail, Molly explained Brant’s sister had had an accident. “While she’s in the hospital, he’s caring for her seven-month-old son. Annabelle’s isn’t very baby friendly, so they’ve moved to Lem Gilmore’s rental.”
“That old place?”
“It’s just short-term, and Brant seems to think it’ll work.” She glanced at Tansy, who urged her on. “He doesn’t have anything for the baby, though, other than a few clothes and bottles. No crib.”
“What’s the little thing sleeping in?”
“A dresser drawer.”
“Oh, for… Does he have a high chair?”
“No.”
“A playpen?”
“No.”
“Let me call my niece. I imagine we can take care of this, but we’ll need a truck.”
Tansy, who’d put the phone on speaker before passing it to Molly, said, “I’ll call Sam, Darlene. Seems only fitting the old truck he bought from Lem delivers the baby things to his house.”
*
An hour and a half later, Molly phoned Brant. “You still home?”
“I am. You said to stay put, so I did. Although I still have no idea why.”
“Give me fifteen minutes, and you will.” She clicked off. “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate this.”
Sam, Cricket’s fiancé and former NYC detective turned small-town deputy, said, “It’s okay. You know, when I moved here from the city, I figured this place for the armpit of the world. Now? You couldn’t pry me out with a crowbar. Misty Bottoms is a good place to live. You’ll be happy here.”
“I already am.”
Hobo, sitting between her and Sam in the old truck, let out a sharp bark and placed his graying paw on Molly’s leg. For a fleeting instant, she thought of the dog hair she’d have to pick off her black skirt and about the fact she hadn’t opened her shop on time.
The heck with it. She rubbed the old dog between his ears and settled into the leisurely pace of the day. After all, this was what “Southern” was all about. If a person wanted to hurry, he should have been born north of the Mason-Dixon Line.
When they parked in Brant’s drive, Darlene pulled in behind them. She’d left her sister to cover her shop, insisting it was time she met this newcomer.
Darlene’s dogs, freed from her car, pranced daintily through the tall grass in their little blue outfits. Hobo hopped from Sam’s truck and ran up to them. Before they bumped noses, though, the old dog hit his brakes, head tipped, and studied the Cairn terriers as if not quite sure what to make of them.
Darlene patted his head. “Look, Moonshine, a new friend.” To Hobo, she said, “Maybe I should make you a sweater, sweetie. Would you like that?”
Hobo let out a yap and ran lickety-split back to the truck, practically melting into Sam’s leg.
“What’s wrong with you, boy? You afraid of those little things?”
Molly leaned close and whispered, “I think he’s scared Darlene might actually make him a sweater.”
Sam laughed. “There is that. Hobo’s not much of a fashion plate.”
His hair disheveled, Brant opened the door with Jax straddling his hip.
“Consider us the welcoming committee.” Darlene marched up to the porch and stuck out her hand. “I’m Darlene Dixon. This is Moonshine and Mint Julep.” She chucked Jax beneath his chin. “And who are you, sweetie?”
“This is Jax.”
The baby gurgled and handed Darlene his spit-covered rattle.
“Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?” Her attention returned to Brant. “Rumor has it you don’t have much for this baby, so we’ve come to take care of that.”
Making little cooing noises, she plucked the baby from him.
“Since you’ve got two free hands now,” Sam called out, “why don’t you put them to good use, Brant? Get over here and help.”
Looking slightly flummoxed, Brant did exactly that.
In no time, they had the crib, high chair, and playpen inside, along with a well-used rocker. Darlene had thrown in an almost-new sofa cover and some towels.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Brant said.
“It’s what we do here in Misty Bottoms,” Darlene said. “We help one another. I understand you fix cars.”
He winced. “Sort of.”
“That’s a little like calling Michelangelo a house painter,” Sam said.
“I don’t understand.” Darlene’s forehead creased.
“It’s okay.” Brant sent Sam a wink. “You ever need work done on your car, you let me know.”
Molly held up a finger. “We have one more thing.” She popped Darlene’s trunk, and Sam lifted out a large box. “I guarantee this will be your favorite.”
Brant looked at the picture on the side and smiled. A baby swing. “Oh yeah, now you’re talking.”
“Tansy chipped in with us. It’s kind of a shower gift,” Molly said.
“A shower gift?” He shot
a look at Sam. “Don’t you dare breathe a word about this to the guys.”
Sam grinned but drew his fingers across his lips, sealing them.
“Yeah.”
Darlene ignored their shenanigans. “The twins’ swings saw more action than a can of hair spray at Frenchie’s salon, so we tossed them.”
Brant wrapped her in a hug. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
Sam shook his head. “We’ll see if you still feel that way once you start putting it together.”
“You’re gonna help, aren’t you?”
Sam puffed out his cheeks, then nodded. “Against my better judgment.”
Jax tried out his new playpen while Darlene and Molly fought with the sofa cover and the guys tackled the swing.
Brant stared at the pieces strewn across the floor.
“Come on,” Darlene said. “You put engines together. How hard can this be?”
“Foreign territory.”
Darlene handed him the instruction sheet.
He laughed. “Did you look at this?”
“No.” She peered around his shoulder and chuckled. “It’s in Chinese.”
Sam snagged the paper from Brant. “It has pictures.”
Twenty minutes later, the women took the baby outside and sat on the shaded porch.
Darlene looked at Molly. “Suppose he’s got any soap in there?”
Molly frowned. “Probably. Why?”
“Both those boys could stand to have their mouths washed out.”
Molly smiled.
“Don’t you be grinnin’. You kissin’ that mouth? The mechanic’s?”
Molly blushed.
“I thought so.” She elbowed Molly. “He any good at it?”
“If he was any better, I’d need a defibrillator.”
After another half hour, the swing worked. When baby Jax took his first ride, his giggles were payment in full. He pumped his little legs and banged his rattle.
Sam tossed the cardboard and scraps into the back of his truck. “I’ll stop at the dump’s recycling and get rid of this.”
“Appreciate that.”
“One more thing.” Molly hurried to Sam’s truck and came back with a shopping bag. “Here you go. Use them.”
Must Love Babies Page 15
