Must Love Babies

by Lynnette Austin

  “Stiles. Molly Stiles. I own That Little White Dress.”

  “Ah, the wedding boutique. My sister’s on the hunt for her perfect dress. I’ll send her to see you.”

  “Please do. If the dress exists—and I’m certain it does—we’ll find it.”

  “Wonderful. Now, let’s see how this little fellow’s doing.” The doctor reached for Jax, who turned his head in to Molly’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” She handed him to the doctor. “Geez, I feel like a Judas.”

  Dr. Yancy gave Jax a quick visual inspection, tapped his belly, and checked his soft spot and gums. “He’s got a couple teeth ready to break through, but I guess you know that.” He flicked the damp bib, and Jax, quick as any pickpocket, grabbed the doctor’s stethoscope.

  “Whoops.” Yancy extricated it from the small fingers. “Sorry.”

  When Jax wrinkled his face, the first sign of coming tears, Molly whipped a rattle from the bag, handed it to him, and once again they had a smiling baby.

  The doctor measured and weighed Jax. “He’s on the upper end of the chart for his age. You’re doing a great job.”

  “That’s a relief.” Brant ran a hand over his head. “Jax has had a lot of upheaval lately, and I’ve never taken care of a baby, so it’s been touch and go. We started out at Annabelle’s, then moved to a small rental. Now, well, we’re moving again.”

  “Lem Gilmore’s old place?”

  Brant’s mouth dropped open.

  “Small town, Mr. Wylder.”

  Brant frowned. If Yancy knew that, why didn’t he know he and Molly weren’t married? Had the good doctor been fishing? Was he thinking about putting the moves on Molly? That teeny-tiny green monster raised its head and gave a not-so-quiet roar.

  “Any problems at feeding time?”

  “None,” Brant said, “except that it seems to be a twenty-four-hour event.”

  The doctor grinned. “Give him more protein.”

  Handing the baby to Brant, Dr. Yancy said, “Time for the more unpleasant part of today’s program. This one needs his DTP and PCV inoculations. The nurse will be in to take care of that and go over follow-up care.”

  “Inoculations?” Brant’s eyes grew wild. “You mean shots?”

  The doctor nodded, shook their hands, and walked out, his white lab coat swinging behind him.

  The nurse, a big smile on her face and two syringes in hand, slipped in before the door had even closed.

  “Who wants to hold him while we do this?”

  Brant went paper-white.

  *

  On the way home, Molly laced her fingers in her lap. Her chest hurt, and she couldn’t breathe. Too close. She’d gotten too close, too emotionally invested.

  She had to take a step back. Had to protect herself.

  “Brant.”

  He glanced at her, then sent her a second, longer look. “What’s wrong?”

  She wet her lips.

  “Molly?”

  “I need to ask a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “I need some time. To myself.” She hesitated. “Time away from you.”

  “What?”

  “I need—”

  “I heard you. I thought you enjoyed yourself at my folks’.”

  “I love your family. This isn’t about them.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  He looked so hurt, so bewildered, she almost backed down. Almost. “I need to get my head straight.”

  “Have I done something? Are you mad?”

  “No.”

  His jaw dropped. “Are you dumping me?”

  “Am I—No!”

  “Sure feels like it.”

  Her chest grew tighter, and she felt light-headed. “This isn’t about you, Brant. It’s about me. I need some time to think.”

  “To think.”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you ever be ready to take that next step, Molly? To trust a man? You need to stop thinking so much. You analyze everything, pick it to death. Stop peeking in corners for monsters that aren’t there.”

  He pulled to the curb in front of her shop, walked to the back, and lifted her suitcase from the trunk. “There you go. While you’re doing all that thinking, remember this. I’m not your father. Nor am I just another guy trying to sweet-talk you. I’m the guy who loves you.”

  Without another word, without giving her time to say anything, he got in his car and drove away.

  He loves me? He loves me?

  Earlier, she’d wondered why she should expect Brant to be any different from the other men in her life. Maybe this was that difference. He loved her.

  She’d never been more confused in her life.

  Chapter 25

  Brant tossed his paperback onto the end table. He couldn’t concentrate. To say he was baffled was like saying the guy who’d led the race at Talladega Superspeedway and got knocked out ten feet from the checkered flag by some jerk he’d already lapped would be a little miffed.

  He’d left work early. Not wanting to go home to an empty house, he’d swung by day care and picked up Jax.

  His furniture had arrived two days ago, and he and the baby had moved into their new house. The living room and kitchen were pretty well put together, and both the crib and his bed were set up. The rest could wait.

  He missed Molly.

  He twisted the ring he’d inherited from his grandfather, the ring Grandma Wylder had given him on their wedding day. Like Grandpa, Brant never took it off. When he told Quinlyn he’d take the house, he’d imagined Molly helping him settle in. Staying over. Spending time here with him and Jax. The azaleas around the gazebo would bloom soon, and he wanted to share them with her. And there was the elephant in the room. He wanted to be with her; she obviously didn’t want to be with him.

  Maybe.

  Then again, maybe the problem was that she wanted to be with him too much. Had she panicked? Felt threatened personally or professionally?

  She had daddy issues, no doubt about that. He’d hoped her father would step up and take action after their lunch, and he still might. Preston had called her several times now just to chat, and that was a good sign. Was it her shop? Surely she understood he didn’t expect her to give up her dreams for him?

  He’d stayed away as she’d asked, but it was killing him.

  He’d played by her rules, and he didn’t like them. At all. Time to change the rules. He glanced at his John Wayne clock. Her shop would still be open.

  Before he could even get up off the sofa, the phone rang. Molly!

  He grabbed for it. “Hello?”

  “Brant?”

  “Lainey?”

  “I’m going home tomorrow.”

  Jax crawled over to him and, using Brant’s leg, pulled himself up, babbling a mile a minute.

  “Is that my baby?”

  Fighting the deepening depression, Brant held the phone by Jax. “Say hi to your mommy, kid.”

  He felt torn. He should be happy. He was happy. Hadn’t he wanted his life back? Lainey had hinted during their last weekly visit that she’d be out soon. Even without that, he’d known his time with Jax was coming to an end. Mother and son belonged together, but the pain was so bad, he wondered if he was having a heart attack.

  “Brant?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Tucker’s picking me up. I’ll have some last-minute paperwork to take care of, so I’m not sure when we’ll get there.”

  “You want to stay the night?”

  “No. I want to go home. I want to see Mom and Dad.”

  “Understood. You’ve been in touch with Jason?”

  “Yeah. I don’t see that going anywhere, but we’ll talk.”

  “I’ll have Jax’s things ready.”

  “Thanks. For everything.” Her voice broke. “I can’t even think about what would have happened without you. Once again, you pulled me through. I love you.”

  She hung up.

  Without conscio
us thought, he hoisted Jax to his chest and held him tight. “I’m gonna miss you, champ.”

  He buried his face in the baby’s soft hair and swore he actually heard his heart break when those soft little arms circled his neck.

  “Let’s get you packed, kid. Mommy’s coming tomorrow.”

  Dinner and bath time were tough. Everything took on new meaning for Brant, knowing it was the last time—the last rubber-ducky play time, the last jar of ghastly green peas. Should he call Molly? No. She’d already said her goodbyes.

  To both of them.

  Normally he couldn’t wait to put Jax to bed. Tonight he dreaded it. They played, rolling around the floor, chasing balls, and roughhousing with Lug Nut. Brant memorized every moment, tucking all of them away and taking way too many pictures.

  His life, with Jax, had changed so much. Jax himself had changed. Two teeth had finally popped through, and he was crawling and pulling himself up on furniture.

  Now everything would change again. Long after Jax fell asleep, Brant sat in the rocker, holding the baby close.

  *

  Just after lunch the next day, a knock sounded on the door. Dread pooled in Brant’s stomach, and he peeked out the window. Shoot, Jeremy! He’d forgotten all about him.

  Throwing the door open, Brant said, “Hey, kid.”

  “I stopped by the shop, but you weren’t there. I thought we were gonna paint the storage room today.”

  Brant was torn. He ought to send Jeremy home, but he really didn’t want to be alone.

  “You know what? I’m bushed. Why don’t you grab a couple Cokes from the fridge, and we’ll watch a game.”

  “Sure.” Jeremy’s gaze darted to the corner of the living room, where Brant had piled the bags and boxes holding Jax’s things. Ebenezer, Jax’s yellow rubber ducky, peeked out of a duffel.

  Catching the speculative expression on the teen’s face, Brant sighed. “Jax’s mom is picking him up today.”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Brant dropped onto the sofa and powered on the TV. Scrolling through his saved list, he brought up an old football game. Jax squealed, and despite everything, Brant laughed.

  “Hear that, Jeremy? The kid’s got good taste.”

  While he and Jeremy yelled first encouragement, then sarcasm, at their teams, Jax scooted around maniacally in his walker, running into every single piece of furniture in the room. It was like watching a giant pinball machine as his new set of wheels bounced from sofa to coffee table to doorway and back to the sofa. With the hardwood floors, the kid could really move.

  Lug Nut peeked out from his safe place beneath the dining-room table. Brant patted the sofa beside him, and the pup raced across the room, hurtling onto the sofa and plastering himself against Brant.

  Jax squealed and headed toward them.

  “You’re a Wylder, Jax. You love your wheels, don’t you? Won’t be long before you’ll be trading that in on a dirt bike or four-wheeler. We won’t tell your mom, though, ’cause she’d worry herself silly.”

  As he watched the grinning baby, Brant remembered those first harrowing days and the desperation he’d felt. Hadn’t he prayed for this day, looked forward to a return to his own life? To sleeping in…to uninterrupted sleepovers. Somewhere along the line, though, things had changed. He placed a hand over his heart. It hurt.

  He should probably get cleaned up before his sister came.

  “Will you keep an eye on the kid, Jeremy, while I catch a quick shower and shave?”

  “Sure.”

  Halfway up the stairs, Brant heard his brother’s Mustang pull in out front.

  He retraced his steps and moved to the porch. The car door opened, and his stomach took a nosedive.

  “Jeremy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Think you’d better go, bud. See you tomorrow.”

  *

  Kneeling on the floor, Molly was steaming an ivory lace train, her mind on Brant, when Jenni Beth swung through the door.

  “Molly?”

  “I’m back here. What brings you in?” Dressed in a black silk blouse, pencil skirt, and leather jacket with the cuffs turned up, Molly stepped from her office. Catching a glimpse of Jenni Beth’s face, she stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Lainey’s at Brant’s.”

  “What? He didn’t say anything about her being released.”

  “Could that be because you haven’t spoken to him in days?” Jenni Beth sighed. “Jeremy called. He said he’d tried you, but you didn’t answer. You didn’t answer my calls, either.”

  Molly pulled out her cell. “Oh geez. I put it on mute.” She felt sick.

  “I know you’re not seeing him right now, but my guess is that he could use a friend.”

  “Lettie’s running an errand. I’ll close up.”

  Jenni Beth laid a hand on Molly’s arm. “I can handle this until she gets back.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. Go!”

  “Thank you!” Molly grabbed her keys and ran out the door.

  *

  When she pulled up in front of Brant’s, Lainey was standing beside Tucker’s Mustang with Jax on her hip. Molly quietly got out of her car but stayed put, not wanting to interfere.

  Brant opened the door for his sister. “Remember, you need to watch him close. He can cover the length of a football field in a minute-ten flat, I swear, and he’s into everything. Aren’t you, Jax?”

  He held out his hand, and Jax grabbed a finger and pulled it into his mouth to gum it.

  Jax met Brant’s gaze, gabbing away in his baby gibberish.

  “Oh, and I promised to make him a partner in a couple of years, so don’t take him too far, okay? I figured that would be all right with you and Gaven, Tuck.”

  “You bet. Keep it in the family for another generation, at least.”

  Lainey threw herself into Brant’s arms. “I love you!”

  Jax squirmed in his mother’s arms and, whimpering, reached out to Brant, whose face crumpled.

  He pulled himself together quickly. “You’re going home with Mommy and Uncle Tucker, big boy. You be good.”

  Molly stepped toward them. “Hey, I hear somebody’s taking a trip.” She kept her tone light.

  “Yeah, and I’m driving the getaway car.” Tucker looked at her. “Glad you came.” He shot a look at his brother. “BT might need some company.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Brant muttered.

  “I know that,” Tucker said. “Hate to rush you, Lainey, but we’d better get going. It’ll be dark before we’re home.”

  Molly took Jax’s face between her hands and kissed both his chubby cheeks.

  He grinned at her and twined his fingers in her hair. “Babadada.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, sweetheart,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  When she looked up from the baby, his uncle stood motionless, holding a yapping Lug Nut’s collar.

  Molly kissed Lainey’s cheek. “Good luck, honey.” Then she made the mistake of looking into Jax’s innocent green eyes. “You be a good boy for Mama.”

  Sniffling and swiping away tears, she called herself every kind of a fool. Jax was one male she’d known from the start was temporary, yet she’d happily handed him her heart. “’Bye, Tuck. Lainey. Jax.”

  She started toward Brant. Behind her, the car door closed, and the Mustang’s engine roared to life. As the car pulled onto the two-lane road, Molly reached Brant.

  “I knew this day was coming, and Lainey gave me a heads-up last week, then called yesterday to let me know she’d be here today. Still, it hurts.” He pulled her close and held her.

  Neither spoke. There was nothing to say.

  *

  They sat on Brant’s new front porch, both of them looking for all the world like survivors of some horrid disaster. Each held a rapidly warming Coke.

  “I should mow the grass.”

&nbs
p; “It’ll wait.”

  “Yeah.” He twisted the soda can round and round. “Thanks for coming, Mol.”

  She patted his knee.

  Those incredible green eyes, so much like Jax’s, looked into hers. “Looks like I need to schedule another trip home soon.”

  “You’re a good brother.”

  “Really? If I were a good brother, would she have been in this mess?”

  Her voice sharp, Molly said, “Don’t you dare.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t put her troubles on your back. You’re not responsible for her actions or for her choices. We’ve talked about this.”

  On a deep sigh, he said, “We have. And I know my sister. She’ll do right by Jax. But I sure am gonna miss that baby.”

  He chugged his Coke, then crushed the can. His gaze drifted over her. “You’re all dressed up. Go back to work, Molly.”

  She wanted to stay, yet instinctively knew he needed some time alone.

  “Go. Please.”

  She kissed his cheek. He turned his head and took it deeper, stoking it into a hot, fiery furnace.

  Then he walked inside, the screen door slapping shut behind him.

  Molly made all of a mile before she had to pull off the road to shed the tears she’d been holding back.

  *

  When the phone rang, Molly sat straight up in bed. According to her alarm clock, it was 1:31—a.m.

  Heart pounding, she grabbed her cell. “Hello?”

  “Molly?” His voice sounded husky, raw. “You sleeping?”

  “No, I’m talking to you.” It was a dark night, and she flicked on her bedside lamp.

  “And I’m talking to the most beautiful woman I know.”

  “Ah. Have you been drinking, Brant?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Standing outside your door, hoping you’ll let me in.”

  She threw back the covers and ran to the window. Bubbles leaped off the bed to scurry across the floor behind her. With shaky fingers, Molly drew back the curtain. Sure enough, Brant’s Camaro was parked outside her building.

  Tonight would be about sorrow and loss.

  She grabbed a robe and slid into it. The mirror above her dresser threw her reflection back at her. Ouch! Talk about bedhead. “Give me a minute, and I’ll be right down.”