by Jule McBride
LILLIAN GLANCED UP. “You ready to hold the baby now?”
Shane doubted he’d ever be ready. “No, you go ahead.”
“You can hold him in a minute, Shane, I promise.”
He managed a nod, his chest feeling unbearably tight.
“Take your time.”
Shane had just returned to the nursery with a bottle, only to find the baby had fallen asleep again. Which was just as well. He’d been worried about the temperature of the milk, since instead of doing it the way Lillian showed him, he’d tested it against his wrist too long. It had gotten stone-cold, then he’d had to put another bottle in the warmer.
His eyes drifted over Lillian, who was sitting in a rocker, cradling the sleeping baby. Somehow, now that Brandon was in the nursery, he looked even smaller to Shane than he had when he was at Big Apple Babies. Scrawny, with fisted hands, he was wearing only a diaper and a tiny white shirt. Lillian gazed lovingly down at him, her face glowing and her dark eyes looking unusually serene. From the second Ethel had nestled the child into her arms, a noticeable peace had seemed to descend on Lillian.
She’d called Jefferson immediately; she was technically on maternity leave now. And Shane had called Doc, figuring he’d better, before his brother heard about the marriage and baby from Ethel or Jake. Doc might be having love troubles, but he clearly suspected something was amiss, since Shane wasn’t exactly the marrying kind. Not that it put a damper on Doc’s heartfelt congratulations. The only reason he hadn’t raced over was because he wanted to give Shane and Lillian time alone to bond with Brandon. That’s what Shane got for having a pediatrician for a brother.
“Are you okay, Shane?”
Shane glanced up. “Hmm?”
“You’re pacing.”
Realizing Lillian was right, he leaned against the wall and tried to relax.
“C’mon, Shane, why don’t you sit down in the rocker?” she suggested, rising. “I’ll hand him to you.”
“Really, I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. Shane had never even held his niece. Or any baby, he realized as he edged toward the rocker. In fact, truth be told, he’d always avoided babies, and the only reason he sat down now was because Lillian asked him to. Once he was seated, Lillian leaned toward him, and as she gently settled the child against his chest, Shane was drawing in a heavenly breath of her musk fragrance.
Shane glanced up at her. “Like this?” His arm had curved into a cradle, and now he curled a supportive hand under the baby’s head.
“That’s exactly how you should hold him,” Lillian said.
When Brandon started wriggling, Shane suddenly, reflexively lifted the baby. “No. Look…he’s waking up.”
“That’s okay,” she whispered with a smile.
Shane stared back down. He remembered Lillian telling him about the first time she’d held Brandon. She’d said in that one instant, they’d formed a bond. Now, his chest swelling, Shane knew exactly what she meant. He’d never wanted to protect anyone more in his life. His eyes lingered on the small mouth. It was puckering and moving with a gumless chewing motion. “I think he’s going to cry.”
“He’s just hungry,” Lillian assured. Kneeling next to the rocker, she lifted the bottle gently, guided Shane’s hand around it, and brought it to the baby’s mouth, showing Shane how to hold it. As the baby’s mouth closed over the bottle’s nipple, Shane felt a lump form in his throat, and when Brandon suckled hard, waving his arms with seeming pleasure, Shane touched a tiny palm, to steady it. With firm pressure, Brandon’s fingers curled around Shane’s and everything inside Shane seized up.
“Well, look at that,” he murmured.
“Yeah.” Lillian chuckled softly, sending him a long sideways glance. “Have you ever held a baby before, Shane?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got to admit, this is a first for me.”
There was a long silence.
“Shane?”
He said nothing. He couldn’t. His attention was still riveted on the baby’s suckling mouth. He felt, rather than saw, Lillian’s hand as it trailed over the rocker’s armrest. As she gently rubbed his forearm, Shane glanced over to find her smiling into his eyes in a way that brought softly shining light into hers. She whispered, “I’m going to rename him.”
Shane frowned. “You love the name Brandon.”
“I do. But I thought of a name I like better.”
“What?”
Leaning, she pressed a kiss to Shane’s cheek that undid him with its tenderness. “Shane,” she whispered. “You helped me get him. So I’m going to call him Shane.”
CHAPTER NINE
BECAUSE THE BABY needed to be in the bedroom with his mother, Shane had moved the crib, changing table and rocking chair from the nursery to an area near Lillian’s bed.
Now he smiled grimly down into the crib. He’d felt uneasy since the day before yesterday, when the baby arrived, but now Shane knew he had cause for worry. Apparently, the photographer at the wedding—a man he and Lillian assumed Jefferson had hired—had been one of Fin’s men. And now Fin had run a wedding picture of Shane and Lillian, along with an announcement, in half the newspapers in the country. Since Lillian’s workplace was mentioned in the announcement, any fool could find her.
That Lillian and the baby were being used as bait filled Shane with cold fury. How long would it be before Lillian found out? How could the bastard do it? No doubt, Fin was hoping someone from the Ramsey crime consortium, maybe even Jack Ramsey himself, would see the picture, hunt Lillian down and try to get back the three million bucks. And then, of course, Fin would be there to collect. For days, Shane’s relationship with Fin had been strained, but even now Shane had managed to keep it professional, so he’d be kept in the loop where Lillian and the Ramseys were concerned.
Glancing from the crib to the closed door of the bathroom, Shane listened to the shower run. He was tempted to tell Lillian what was happening, but with the wedding picture circulating, he couldn’t risk her being angry with him. Besides, she’d waited so long for a baby that he couldn’t bear to ruin this special time for her, either. And anyway, Shane was used to coexisting with—or silently bearing the burden of—danger. While he didn’t see a lot of action in his current position, he’d been a detective for years.
Genuine humor suddenly touched his eyes. “Happy with yourself, kid?”
Little Shane yawned and squirmed.
Tugging off his T-shirt, Shane shrugged his faded bathrobe back on over his bare chest and boxers without tying the belt. “Lil?” As he called out the name, he vaguely wondered when he’d started calling her Lil, in addition to Lillian. “When you come, could you bring me a clean T-shirt?”
“Sure. Is everything okay in there? Having trouble dressing the baby?”
“A little.”
“Try to do a better job than you do on yourself.”
“He’s not wearing anything faded,” Shane said, defending himself.
As Lillian’s light, soft laughter floated from behind the closed bathroom door, Shane felt his spirits lift. It was good to hear her sound so happy. Wistfully, his eyes passed over the bed. The past two nights, he’d tried to share it, but Lillian stopped at kisses that left them both wanting more. Otherwise, they’d been completely occupied with the baby.
The baby, Shane thought. He sure was a handful. Gently, Shane scooted an outfit under him, then grasped the baby’s fist and coaxed, “See? Little Shane’s legs go here.” The baby’s lips peeled back in what Shane told himself was a smile. He started fumbling with some overly small snaps. “If we keep this up,” he said with a sigh, “you might be dressed before the year 2000.”
They’d begun at the changing table, but the baby had spit up on the first outfit, then dirtied a diaper when the second was in place. While Shane changed the diaper, Little Shane had wet on him. Which meant moving the baby to the crib again. After that, Shane tried to leave, to wash himself in the bathroom Lillian wasn’t occupying, but the baby began screaming.
&n
bsp; Shane had paused at the threshold. It was ridiculous—he’d just needed to leave for three minutes to wash up—but those tiny screams of terror had stopped him short. Lone Star, who’d taken to protecting the crib from a distance, seemed to suspect Shane had hurt the baby, and she’d growled so ferociously that Shane hadn’t been able to get past the baby gate again until he’d brought Milk-Bones from the kitchen to bribe the dog.
And then Shane had called Fin, which had utterly destroyed his peace of mind. “Look here—” He tugged Little Shane’s arms into place. “This is where Little Shane’s arm goes.”
“Know where Big Shane’s arms go?”
Shane turned from the baby and leaned against the crib rail. “Around Big Lillian?” he suggested, his gaze drifting over her. “Don’t come any closer,” he suddenly added.
She stopped in her tracks, squinting. “Why?”
Because you look so gorgeous, baby, that’s why. She was so heart-stoppingly beautiful that it almost hurt, and Shane was half sure he’d kill any man who threatened her for so long as a heartbeat. His voice was throaty. “I just wanted to take a gander at you.”
Slightly flushing, Lillian turned a graceful full circle, then stood there smiling. The morning light was shining yellow in her loose blond hair, and after her shower she’d thrown on fresh nightclothes, instead of dressing. Beneath the white silk robe, he could see hints of an aqua silk shorts-style pajama. The lounge-wear top had spaghetti straps that lay on the upper swells of her breasts.
Her smile broadened. “Shane, can I please move now?”
Looking at her had brought a slow pull of arousal, but her sleep-tinged voice was even more of a torment. Despite all the worries plaguing him, he smiled back at her. “Say pretty please.”
“Pretty please.”
He didn’t say anything more, and she didn’t move. And the longer he looked at her, the tighter his throat got. “Sweetheart,” Shane finally murmured huskily, “why don’t you just come on over here for a kiss?”
She came, and as soon as she was close enough, Shane grasped her hand and pulled her into his arms, turning her so they could both look into the crib at Little Shane.
After a few silent moments, she gazed up. “Sorry, Shane—” Her husky teasing drawl flooded his lower body with sweet warmth. “I thought you said you were going to kiss me. But now I’m not sure I want that kiss, after all.”
“Teasing me? Why, you naughty girl.”
Her dark drowsy eyes sparkled. “Well, if I’m so naughty, what are you going to do about it?”
He was sure he’d think of something. He’d never been so intimately aware that there was nothing between him and a woman save shorts and a silk pajama. His eyes drifted over her face. She still looked sleepy, since the baby had kept them up, and she wasn’t wearing a hint of makeup, but Shane had never seen anyone look better. The baby had utterly transformed her. There was a new hope in her eyes now and a lightness to her step. She was in her element, loved and being loved.
Maybe it was his proximity, or the underlying seriousness of his tone, but Shane felt a slight shiver move through her as he suddenly confessed, “Lillian, in all honesty, I’d have trouble stopping at a kiss right about now.”
She met his gaze, swallowing hard. “Then maybe you’re right, Shane—” She glanced at the baby, then edged back a pace. “Maybe we’d better not get started…”
“I’m afraid it’s too late,” he said, coaxing her close again and tenderly brushing her wispy bangs from her forehead. Right now, they were both barely dressed, vulnerable from their dreams, and the air the around them was turning as hot and clammy as August.
She sighed, relenting with a soft smile. “Well, maybe just a kiss.”
“Damn right there’ll be a kiss,” he whispered, his mouth firmly settling over hers with a pressure that opened her lips, so his tongue’s soft flickers could taste her. When she leaned back, her eyes were the color of toasted almonds in the warm morning sunlight, her lips reddened and damp. She gazed over Shane’s shoulder at the baby, clearly trying to regain her equilibrium. “So, he’s been fussy, huh?” she asked, sounding a little shaky.
Shane smiled. Much as he wanted this woman, he also liked simply being with her. “Fussy?” he returned. “While you were taking a million hours to shower and brush your teeth, he was the kid from hell, Lillian.”
“I did not take hours,” she retorted.
“Did so. And all the while I was left parenting alone.” Parenting. The word felt strange in his mouth, but Shane wanted to try it on for size. And he was glad Lillian didn’t protest. Truth was, he enjoyed playing daddy—and she knew it. He liked how the few people who’d phoned yesterday—mostly his and Lillian’s coworkers—were calling him Big Shane, to differentiate him and the baby. The people from Big Apple Babies who’d seen the dark-haired boy said that he already looked exactly like Shane.
With a start, Shane realized he was merely smiling down at the baby. He glanced at Lillian. “You hungry, sweetheart?”
“Not quite. Are you cooking?”
His mouth curved in a wry smile. “Guess so. Unless Little Shane and I want to split a TV dinner for breakfast.”
She chuckled softly. “Maybe Little Shane could cook?”
“Maybe.” Shane glanced into the crib again. In the baby, he saw so much raw potential, so much promise. What lay ahead for the baby? For all three of them? Shane tamped down another spark of temper at what Fin had done. “Well,” he said dryly. “Little Shane doesn’t exactly look like the Galloping Gourmet—yet.”
Lillian lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe the crawling gourmet?”
“Crying gourmet,” Shane countered. “When will he crawl?”
“In a few months.”
“A few months.” Shane sighed, trying to imagine the baby growing up. Would Shane and Lillian be together then? What of this baby’s life would they share—if anything?
Gently disengaging himself, Shane leaned and lifted the baby. Every time he did, he wondered why he’d avoided holding babies for so long. In no more than a day, he’d come to love how the kid sprawled, warming his chest and cuddling those tiny fists on his shoulders. “C’mon,” he said to Lillian or the baby, he wasn’t sure which. “Big Shane wants to at least start thinking about our morning grub.”
Looking for all the world like a family, they padded down the hallway. Lillian sighed behind the two Shanes, tidying as she went—picking up sneakers, socks and slippers that Lone Star had dragged out of the bedroom. Lone Star, staring longingly at the “toys” now in Lillian’s hands, brought up the rear.
Just as they reached the living room, the baby emitted a strangled sigh that meant he was about to start wailing, so Shane began pacing between the terrace doors and windows overlooking Rector Park, bouncing the baby and cooing, “There, now. Don’t you start crying.”
He came to a halt. The longer he stared down from the window, the more he couldn’t deny the premonition of danger he always trusted. His eyes scanned the terrain, taking in where Liberty Terrace opened onto Rector Park, a small green with a few benches and center landscaping, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He decided he was just feeling paranoid because of the wedding photo Fin was circulating. He started pacing again, telling himself no one was out there.
Besides, if they were, trained agents were watching. As was Shane. He was taking time off from work, at Jake Lucas’s insistence, since Jake strongly felt Shane needed to be at home with Lillian and the new baby.
Well, maybe Shane was getting somewhere. Yesterday, when he’d gone to Lillian’s office to pick up some work she wanted to complete, Shane had snooped around some more. This time, he had found the combination to a safe. Could be nothing, could be something. But where was the safe itself? he wondered now. In Jefferson’s office? If so, did Lillian make use of it? Was it possible that Jefferson Lawrence knew about Lillian’s past?
“What are you looking for, Shane?”
He gently bounced the baby. “Looking
for?”
Lillian frowned. “You keep pacing.”
“Sorry,” he murmured vaguely. But he did feel unsettled. While he couldn’t believe Lillian was hiding three million dollars somewhere, Uncle Silas’s partner, Trusty Joe, swore the money had been in the car she was driving when she left Louisiana. That meant countless people could be looking for her.
Shane realized Lillian was still gazing at him and the baby, now with the same bemused expression she got when she watched him fumble with domestic tasks to which he wasn’t suited. Shane squinted at her. “What?”
Her eyes turned solemn. “You really like him, don’t you, Shane?”
Shane glanced at the baby, his voice lowering, touched by emotion. “I like him a lot.” It was an obvious understatement.
A long silence fell, a quiet observance of the possibility that they could become a family, and when Shane’s gaze suddenly swept over the Hudson, he truly wished he could take the surveillance boat out of the landscape. Fin had sure rustled up a lot of manpower for an investigation that wasn’t official. But that was to be expected. Fin had wanted to bring in the Ramsey family’s crime consortium for years.
As Shane lifted his eyes from the river, Lillian came up behind him. Shifting the baby and reaching with a free hand, he fluffed her hair, running a finger under it. He watched as the smooth, soft strands fell over his fingers like a waterfall. “I want to make love to you again,” he said simply.
The way she reached out and grazed a finger down his cheek was both tender and intimate, but now Shane had come to crave such touches. How, in all these years, he wondered, had he stopped himself from loving a woman like this? Because there’s never been a woman like this.
For years, his little brother had been his sole responsibility, and Shane had feared that any distractions might hinder his ability to fulfill the promise he’d made to his mother: to watch over Doc. But now Shane’s little brother was a man, with a baby of his own. Maybe now it was Shane’s turn, Shane’s time…
