“Okay, I won’t play dumb, but Molly and I aren’t dating.”
Sam simply raised a brow.
Gaven nudged Brant in the ribs. “If you’re not dating her, can I ask her out?”
“What?”
“If you and Molly—”
“I heard you.”
“Then why’d you ask? So, can I? She’s hot.”
“Only if you want that pretty face of yours rearranged, little brother.”
Sam and Beck grinned at each other.
“Let’s play cards.” Tucker started shuffling the deck. “Have a seat, gentlemen, and open those wallets. I’m ready to take your money.”
They played quietly for a bit as everyone settled into the game. Brant had hauled Jax’s swing to the shop, but instead of using it, the guys took turns holding him. He passed from one lap to another, enjoying the male attention and trying to eat the cards.
Finally, Gaven said, “Maybe I’ll ask Lucinda out.”
Brant smacked him upside the head. “Leave her alone. She takes care of Jax. Don’t mess it up.”
Jax, hearing his name, started babbling.
“You like Lucinda, don’t you?” Gaven took the baby from Beck.
“So do I.” Brant tossed a card onto the table. “That doesn’t mean I have to date her.”
“Quinlyn?” Gaven asked.
Tucker rolled his eyes. “I’ll see your bet, Sam.”
*
Early the next morning in the fog-shrouded yard, Gaven and Tucker tossed their duffels into the pickup.
“That does it,” Gaven said. “Ready to roll. Don’t forget to call Quinlyn today about a house.”
“I won’t.”
Gaven shot a glance at Brant. “That’s what you said last week and the week before that.”
“Been kind of busy.”
“Me too, but I managed to buy a house,” Tucker reminded him.
“Still can’t believe you did that.”
“When I see what I want, I grab it.” Tucker sent him a loaded look. “You might keep that in mind.”
Brant narrowed his eyes. “We still talkin’ about houses?”
“Not necessarily.”
Gaven grinned. “God, I love you two. Take care of my nephew, Brant.”
“You know it.”
The brothers slapped each other on the back in man hugs.
“Drive safe,” Brant said.
“Will do.”
With that, they hopped in and drove off.
Brant stood alone in the mist, thinking how much life had changed in a very short time. When Jax’s cries carried through the open window, he headed inside. Once again, the full responsibility for both the baby and the new shop rested with him.
When he’d power-washed the concrete outside the station the other day, he’d noticed a handprint with “Little Billy” inscribed beneath it. Since then, he’d been playing with the idea of pouring a new pad for Jax’s handprints.
Today seemed as good a time as any. Lucinda wouldn’t mind if Jax was late.
The morning was beautiful, and Jax seemed to understand he’d earned a short reprieve. They stopped by Tansy’s and had breakfast, everyone making a fuss over the smiling baby.
With a bag of concrete from Elliot’s Lumberyard in the trunk, and fueled by great coffee and an even better cinnamon roll from Sweet Dreams, Brant pulled into the old station. Jax bounced and chatted in his seat while Brant framed up the pad and mixed and poured the concrete.
“Okay, brat, ready to do this?”
Jax blew bubbles and grinned.
“I’ll take that for a yes.”
He had to smooth the concrete three times before they got it right. Every time he spread the baby’s hand in the mix, Jax curled his fingers and grabbed a fistful. Finally, though, they got the job done.
Brant wiped the worst of the goo off the little hand with an old grease rag, then rinsed the rest with a bottle of water. Crouched, the baby straddling one leg, Brant carefully wrote Jax Wylder in the still-wet mix, along with the date. “We’ll send a picture of this to your mama, okay?”
Jax raised his chubby little hand and patted Brant’s face.
He’d just started to stand when he heard the old truck coming up the road. Sam DeLuca. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
Sam pulled up, his windows down and Hobo perched in the middle of the bench seat. A teenage boy sat on the passenger side, one arm resting on the doorframe.
Sam opened his door, and the dog followed him out.
“Sam, Hobo.” Brant knelt and patted the old dog, while the baby ruffled his fur.
Sam nodded at Jax. “What are you up to, kid? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Then he waved a hand at the gangly teen leaning on the truck’s tailgate. “This is Jeremy Stuckey, the young man I mentioned earlier.”
Brant held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”
The teenager shook his hand. “Sir.”
“It’s Brant. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
The kid nodded.
“Jeremy’s a senior this year.” Sam tousled the boy’s too-long hair. “Since he’s got today off, too, thanks to a teacher planning day, I figured it would be a good time for you to meet.”
“Hah! You wanted to get me out of bed on one of the few days I could sleep in,” Jeremy groused. But the quick grin he threw Sam told Brant these two had a solid relationship.
Sam’s gaze skimmed over the station. “Like I said before, if you need an extra hand, this guy’s the one to lend it.”
“I can sure as heck strip wallpaper faster than Deputy Dawg here.”
“Ouch,” Sam said. “Is this how you repay me?”
“You lost the bet, remember? Cost you one of Mama’s pizzas!”
“You’re hired,” Brant said.
Jeremy’s mouth dropped open. “Just like that?”
“Just like that, but”—he held up a finger—“I’ve got a couple stipulations.”
“Should’ve figured that.”
Brant laughed. “They’re easy ones. Necessary ones. First, you’ve got to stay in school, and you have to keep up your grades.”
“You sound like my mom,” the boy grumbled.
“Maybe, but I’ll bet she’s prettier than me.”
The corner of Jeremy’s mouth kicked up. “She is. A whole lot.”
“That’s a relief,” Brant said. “The other thing? If you get swamped, have a big project or a test, or start to fall behind, you tell me. Right away. We’ll adjust your work schedule till you get things back together.”
He met Sam’s eyes over the kid, who’d leaned down to scratch Hobo’s ears. The glance expressed gratitude on the deputy’s part. Clearly, Sam thought the world of the kid, and that was enough for Brant.
*
After Sam and Jeremy left, Brant did a quick diaper change, then turned on the old CD player. Carrie Underwood’s voice filled the room, and Jax danced in his seat. The kid loved her almost as much as he loved the Barrett-Jackson auctions.
“Tell you what, champ. Since you’re happy, why don’t I tackle these old shelves, get them off the wall and out of here?” He grabbed his tool belt from the car, moved Jax to the far corner of the room, and got busy.
Not ten minutes later, another car slowed and pulled in, and he glanced out the bay window. Molly.
Brant freed Jax from his seat and strolled outside. He opened her car door, stealing a quick kiss as she got out. The woman definitely revved his engine.
“Ooh, look at you.” She placed a hand over her heart and made patting motions. “A sweaty man wearing a tool belt and holding a baby. I should grab my camera. This on a poster? I’d make a fortune.”
He laughed and swiped at the sweat on his brow. “Right.”
Jax started kicking and jabbering.
“Hi, baby. Come here, sweetheart.” Molly held out her hands, and Jax squirmed his way into them. Rescuing her sunglasses from his busy fingers, she planted smacking kisses on h
is face and arms, making him laugh out loud. “Why aren’t you in school, huh? Are you playing hooky, Jax Wylder?”
“I called him in late. We had an important project.” Brant made a follow-me wave and walked her over to the new concrete pad. “What do you think?”
Molly stared down at the tiny handprint and blinked back tears. “Brant, this is…” She swallowed. “It’s so perfect. What a guy.”
“Perfect enough to earn me a kiss?”
“Totally.” Holding the baby, she rose on tiptoe and met Brant’s lips.
Jax wanted nothing to do with it and, arms flailing, smacked them both in the face.
Laughing, they pulled apart.
Molly reached into her pocket for her phone. “Kneel beside it with Jax.”
Sighing, he did as she said. “I’d planned to do this, but hadn’t got to it yet.”
After a quick tickle, Jax rewarded him with a huge grin.
“Great,” Molly said. “I’ll share it with you, and you can send it to Lainey.”
“Consider it done. Thanks.” Brant rose.
“I passed Sam on my way here.”
“Yeah, he brought Jeremy out to meet me. He’s gonna give me a hand after school.”
“That’ll be good for both of you.” She traced the toe of her shoe over a patch of grass. “Will you replant this area?”
“I don’t know yet. I might pave the whole front.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s a business, Mol.”
“I know, but it should still look pretty.”
His brow arched, but he said nothing.
“Do what you need to do,” she conceded. “I heard Tucker and Gaven were leaving this morning and wondered if you might want some company. I see, though, you’ve got some.” Jax sucked his thumb industriously. She lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped drool from his chin. “He’s got a tooth coming in. You ought to pick up a teething ring, one you can toss in the freezer. It’ll make his sore gums feel better. And maybe get some gel to rub on them.”
“I’ll do that when I run him in to day care. How do you know all this?”
“Baby showers—a font of information.”
“I was gonna call you a little later. You busy tonight?”
Unconsciously, she raised a hand to her heart. “No.”
“Up for dinner, maybe a little necking?”
Heat raced across her face. “I think I can manage that.”
“I’ve got a sitter for the kid, so we’ll take my bike. Dress casually.”
“Your motorcycle? Really?”
*
When Molly heard the deep rumble of the Harley, her heart gave a quick kick. She’d tried explaining her strong attraction to Brant Wylder on the situation he’d found himself in. Argued it was Jax. That it was Lainey.
It wasn’t.
It was the man himself, and she had no clue what to do about it.
Her feelings for Keith were a faint shadow of the emotions this Wylder brother triggered.
Today at the station? What a picture he’d made standing there in his tool belt with Jax in his arms. Add in the scent of a man who’d been working hard, the heat, and fresh drywall studs and sawdust. Both kinds of studs. Whew.
Hurrying to the window with Bubbles scurrying behind her, Molly peeked out. Brant removed his helmet, and she watched him absently rake his fingers through his thick, disheveled hair. She envied those snug-fitting jeans and the leather jacket that wrapped itself around him.
Glancing down at her own outfit, she decided she’d chosen well. This time of the year evenings grew cool, and according to the weatherman, it would dip into the high forties tonight. She’d gone with jeans and a red cotton sweater with low boots. Since they’d be on the Harley, she’d pulled her hair back in a high ponytail.
The doorbell chimed, and Bubbles scrambled beneath the bed. Molly grabbed her leather jacket and hurried down the stairs, her heart thumping.
Brant leaned in for a kiss the second the door opened. “You sure do smell good.” He nuzzled her neck.
She laughed. “The necking comes later. A motorcycle ride and dinner are the first items on tonight’s agenda.”
“You sure are bossy.”
“Best you remember that.” Then she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and drew him back to her, her lips brushing across his. “You smell very, very good yourself, Mr. Wylder. Very male. Very sexy.”
“Keep that up, and dinner is gonna get bumped right off those plans.”
“Uh-uh. I’m hungry, and you promised to feed me.”
“Okay, then.” He took her hand and led her to the bike. “I’m assuming you’ve ridden before.”
“Not nearly enough.”
He stared at her through hooded eyes. “You know, you keep gettin’ closer and closer to my idea of the perfect woman.”
She laughed. “I’m so far from perfect, the dart doesn’t even hit the board.”
“You play darts?”
“I’ve been known to.”
“Like I said…” He handed her a helmet. “Will it fit over your hair?”
“You bet.” She pulled it on and buckled the strap.
He straddled the bike and steadied it while she slid on behind him.
Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned forward and snuggled in for the ride. Oh, she could get used to this…and that was the problem, wasn’t it?
Well, she’d think about that later.
“Ready?” He glanced in the rearview mirror.
“More than.”
He started the machine and revved the engine, and they shot off into the night.
The sun had set, and as they headed out of town, Molly had the feeling she and Brant were the only two people on Earth. Cool air rushed past, and she wanted to throw her arms up and shout for joy. Instead, she simply smiled and snuggled closer.
She hadn’t even asked where they were going.
It didn’t matter.
*
Brant figured he could ride like this forever. The evening enveloped Molly and him, and he felt free and young again. He needed this far more than he’d realized.
Why hadn’t he thought of a sitter before now?
Up ahead, he caught sight of the little Italian mom-and-pop restaurant he’d spotted on one of his trips to Savannah. As he pulled into the parking lot, he noticed it was nearly full. Since it almost always was, he took that for a sign the food would be worth the drive.
The minute he opened the door, his hand on Molly’s back, he knew he’d been right. The rich tomato scent of good sauce, garlic, and warm bread teased him. Soft lighting and quiet music completed the picture.
“I already love it,” Molly whispered.
A young blond bounced up to them, menus in hand. “Welcome to Grandma Annie’s. Have you been here before?”
“Nope,” Brant answered. “This is our first time.”
“You’re in for a treat,” their greeter chirped.
“If the food tastes half as good as it smells, I’m sure we are.”
Seating them, she said, “Brenda will be right with you.”
“Thanks.”
Brant passed on the wine, and so did Molly. That bit of understanding got to him. Molly Stiles, beautiful inside and out.
After they ordered, she dipped a slice of warm, crusty bread into the herbed olive oil. “Mmm, taste.” She held it toward Brant.
His eyes never leaving hers, he took a bite. “Oh yeah. Even if nothing else is edible, this makes the trip worthwhile.”
“I never did ask who’s babysitting tonight.”
“Kitty. I stopped by Sweet Dreams the other day, and she offered to watch Jax if I needed a night out. I did. With you.”
With a sly smile, she said, “You managed to sneak out a time or two while your brothers were in town.”
“Yeah, I did.” The memory sent his pulse racing. “Kitty’s husband dropped her off on his way to a meeting, and I’ll take her home. She offered to drive, but that’s a da
rk, lonely stretch of road for a woman alone. What she really wants is a ride home on my bike. I warned her it’s gonna be cold, but she insists she has a coat and not nearly enough adventure.”
“Sounds like Kitty.”
When their platter of fried zucchini arrived, they both dove in.
“My dad called this morning.”
“Oh yeah?” Had her father mentioned their trip to Clary’s? Uneasy, he asked, “What’d he want?”
“It was the strangest thing. He asked how things were going, and I told him the shop had been busy this week.” Her brows knitted together. “He said that was nice, but how was I doing?”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
A slow smile curved her lips. “Very.”
His world righted, and he speared another zucchini slice, leaned across the table, and fed it to her.
Molly actually groaned when Brenda returned, placing an overflowing plate of spaghetti in front of her. “I’ll hate myself in the morning.”
“Eat what you want and leave the rest,” Brant said.
That’s exactly what she did.
Over coffee and a shared tiramisu, Brant grew serious. “Mol, we need to talk about us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah.” He circled his hand. “When this whole thing between you and me started, my time in Misty Bottoms was limited to a couple days, in and out, although I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wanting you the first time I saw you.” His lips quirked in a half grin at her surprised expression. “And yes, that would be the night of the infamous bouquet toss.”
Molly simply stared at him with those huge eyes.
He sipped his coffee, then set it down again. “Then I found myself back in town—and thinking I might be staying. When I saw you again, I thought I’d steal a dance, maybe a couple kisses. I’d hoped for more but didn’t figure that would be very smart.”
Tapping his fingers on the table, he said, “Now? Here we are, both of us living in Misty Bottoms and, if I’m not reading things wrong, enjoying each other. Very much. So, yeah. It might be a good idea to talk about us.”
Brant read the nerves in Molly. Her easy expression faded, and her mouth opened as though she wanted to speak but didn’t know what to say.
He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away and dropped it in her lap.
“Brant, I’m sorry. I’m confused.”
Must Love Babies Page 25
