The Detective's 8 lb, 10 oz Surprise

by Meg Maxwell

  Nick was standing on the balcony just past their table, gently rocking Timmy, and he seemed to be talking to him.

  “Didn’t you say Nick had no interest in fatherhood?” Annabel asked.

  “I want to believe he’ll change his mind, but Timmy seems to represent something else for him. Someone left him on Nick’s desk. He feels responsible for Timmy. And Timmy will only be with us for a week. Not a lifetime. It’s not quite as scary.”

  “Maybe so, but Timmy’s not in his carrier. Nick isn’t on the phone, ignoring him. He’s got him in his arms. And he’s talking to him.”

  Georgia watched him, her heart clenching in her chest. Maybe it really was possible for Nick to develop some paternal feelings. “I’d better get back,” she said to Annabel, squeezing her sister’s hand. “And compliments to the chef. Our lunches were amazing,” she added before heading back to the table.

  Nick was settling Timmy in his carrier when Georgia arrived. “I was just about to come find you. Two minutes seems to be my limit when it comes to holding a baby.”

  Georgia deflated a bit. She’d had no idea how much she hoped Annabel was right about Nick. But the more time she spent with him, the more she realized Nick meant what he’d told her in Houston. That he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood. He’d opened up then because she lived three hours away from him, she knew. She hadn’t been someone he could start a relationship with. And she’d just let him talk, openly and honestly, and had given herself to him because back then, it hadn’t mattered that marriage and fatherhood weren’t in the cards for him. She hadn’t seen a way out of her situation, so she hadn’t thought Nick’s feelings on parenthood would be an issue.

  They sure were now.

  He seemed to realize what he’d said. “I mean, I’m sure that when your baby’s born, I’ll be more comfortable.”

  “Our baby,” she reminded him.

  “Right.”

  Oh boy.

  Chapter Six

  As they approached the middle school baseball field to “investigate” possible Timmy connection number two, Nick noticed Georgia watching the team run laps around the perimeter while the coaches set out equipment.

  “My dad helped me practice hitting and catching on this diamond,” she said. “I was the worst one of the softball team, but he kept saying if I wanted to be better and practiced, I wouldn’t let myself down.”

  Nick was barely able to look at the field. “Nice advice.” He’d played here too during his middle school baseball career, but his dad hadn’t been pitching him balls and helping his young mind with wise and loving advice. “My dad was the opposite. He’d come to my games with two six-packs and about halfway through he’d start yelling his head off at me if I made a mistake or at the coach or ref if he thought they had. One time he rushed onto the field and hit me upside my head so hard I saw stars.”

  Georgia gasped. “And no one did anything?”

  Nick shifted Timmy’s carrier from his left to his right hand, mostly to give himself a few seconds to compartmentalize all the crud the subject brought up. “He was a cop. And a good ol’ boy with a network of powerful friends. He used to brag about how he’d look the other way for the mayor and some of the rich folks in town. ‘You rub my back, I rub yours,’ he’d say.’” His gut started twisting. Why was he talking about this? Why had he brought this up?

  “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that as a kid,” Georgia said. “You must have felt so powerless.”

  That was exactly how he’d felt back then. “I didn’t care much about what he did to me. It was my mother I was worried about. By the time I turned fifteen I was six feet tall but still pretty scrawny even though I worked hard at it, and I’d physically step between him and my mother when he started yelling at her and throwing things. I was so scrawny that he’d actually laugh at the notion of me thinking I could stop him, and sometimes that would defuse him.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh, Nick. How awful.”

  He kept walking, unwilling to let his memories sock him in the gut. He was almost twenty-nine years old. Not some terrified teenager. “And exactly why I have no business being anyone’s father. All that, my father, what he was like, that’s in my blood. I don’t know anything about a loving father-child relationship. I only know a feeling of cold dread at the thought of parenthood.”

  Georgia kept pace with him. “But you’re nothing like your father. You’ll be a great dad.”

  Now it was his turn to stop, and Georgia slightly bumped into the side of Timmy’s carrier. “You don’t know that, Georgia. If I’d be a great father, I’d have more interest in spending time around Timmy. But I don’t. I’m glad you’re taking care of him for me. I’ll find his mother and then I can leave Blue Gulch once and for all.”

  Georgia put her hand on his arm, her green eyes widening. “Leave Blue Gulch? You’re leaving?”

  He hadn’t planned on telling her that. Not yet, anyway. “I only moved back here for Avery. She’s in college in Dallas. There’s no reason for me to live here.”

  “You’ll have a baby born here.”

  He led her over to a big oak tree behind the bleachers, aware that prying eyes from folks in the stands were on them. He looked directly at her. “I won’t abandon you or the baby, Georgia. I promise. But I can’t live in town much longer. Everywhere I go, it’s one bad memory after another. I can’t even unofficially investigate the Pullmans at their son’s baseball practice without memory after memory making me sick to my stomach.”

  She took the carrier from him and set it down, then lurched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m just so sorry you feel that way, Nick. You don’t have to feel that way, but I understand that you do.”

  He felt himself stiffen and he stepped back. “Let’s go sit near the Pullmans and watch for any kind of reaction.”

  Her cheeks pinkened and she picked up Timmy’s carrier. “Sorry.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her it was okay, that she’d misread him, that the feel of her so close to him, her hands on his shoulders, made him want to grab her tight and kiss her. But he couldn’t do that, couldn’t go there with Georgia. Not after everything she’d been through the past few months. And not when he’d confuse her and make her think he was interested in something more, like romance, like creating a family. He wasn’t.

  Subject closed. Why couldn’t he keep his own danged mouth shut? Why did he find himself opening up around Georgia, blabbing things to her he barely let himself even think about?

  They walked to the side of the bleachers where about twenty or so people were sitting, watching the practice, which had just gotten started. Jenna Pullman, dognapper Jason’s mother, sat in the third row, a Texas Rangers cap on her blond head and a water bottle in her hand.

  “Oh, Detective Slater, nice to see you,” Jenna said as he slid right next to her, Timmy in his carrier between them. “What a darling baby. I didn’t know you were a father.”

  For the second time, someone mistook him for a father. Based on what the word father meant to him, how completely...alone he felt walking around in his skin, he was surprised that anyone would think he was a dad. “Just babysitting, actually.” He introduced Georgia, and listened to Jenna make small talk about how she and her family had been eating at Hurley’s for years.

  No reaction whatsoever about the baby. Jenna was busy watching the practice as her son, Jason, came up to bat. He struck out and Jenna sent him a commiserating smile, and then she turned back to Timmy. “You’re so precious!” she cooed to the infant. “My sister just had twins,” she added, glancing at Nick. “I love being back in the baby stage, even as just an auntie. My husband is even worse. He bought each baby a three-foot-tall stuffed giraffe yesterday.” She took a sip from the water bottle, then bit her lip and dropped her shoulders, the way people did sometimes when they were
about to confess to something. But her attention was taken by a fly ball.

  “Your whole family must be thrilled,” he said, fishing. C’mon, you probably have a cousin or friend who just had a baby and is in some kind of trouble and liked how I handled Jason’s criminal offense, so your cousin or friend left baby Timmy with me for safekeeping. Was Jenna about to say that Timmy looked exactly like her so and so’s infant? He leaned closer.

  “Oh, they are,” Jenna said. “It’s been a while since we’ve had newborns on either side, so we’re all overdoing it. I wish they lived here in town, but they’re over in Bellville. I think Jason has been glad the attention’s off him.”

  So much for the Pullmans being connected to Timmy. “How’s Jason doing?” he asked. “Walking Bentley every day?”

  Jenna smiled. “He’s crazy about that dog. In fact, he’s doing such a good job that his father and I are thinking of surprising him with a trip to the shelter for his birthday coming up in November and letting him pick out his own dog. Taking Harriet’s dog was wrong and he knows it, but if he can prove that he can be responsible by walking Bentley every day and he has Harriet’s forgiveness, I think it might be a good idea.”

  Nick smiled. “I think that’ll be great. Jason’s a good kid. Kids make mistakes. Sometimes knowing how to handle those mistakes makes all the difference.”

  Jenna nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I didn’t realize that Jason was acting out because of some stuff going on at school. Once you got us talking about what might have led him to take the dog when he knows it’s wrong, he really opened up. And now things are so much better. I can’t thank you enough for how generous you were with him.”

  “Sure thing,” he said as Jason came up to bat again and hit a double. His mother jumped up and cheered.

  “Two down, many to go,” he whispered to Georgia.

  She offered a smile of commiseration.

  He had to be missing something. Something he wasn’t thinking of. They’d make their way to the coffee shop next and order iced lattes so they could check Penny Jergen’s reaction to Timmy for any telltale signs that she recognized him. If she did, he’d fish for who the baby belonged to. But he had a feeling he wouldn’t get anywhere with Penny or the next two people on his list. He was definitely missing something, but what?

  “Folks sure do appreciate you around here,” Georgia whispered as they headed back toward town.

  “Nature of the job. I’m supposed to help and I do.”

  Still, he did appreciate knowing that what he did made a difference in people’s lives.

  The next person on his list wouldn’t be so full of appreciation, though.

  * * *

  “Ugh, that baby spit up on me last weekend,” Penny Jergen practically screamed from behind the counter as Nick and Georgia arrived at the coffee shop, Timmy in Nick’s arms. “Keep him away from my silk tank top!”

  Relief flooded through Nick. Yes! He wasn’t missing something. His idea to go through the cases wasn’t needle-in-a-haystack. “You know this little guy?” he said casually, pretending to be absorbed in the display of baked goods to Penny’s left. Just in case Penny would realize she shouldn’t say a word about who Timmy belonged to, he didn’t want to appear too interested in the information.

  Penny pushed her long curly blond hair behind her shoulders. “I’m surprised he’s not screeching his head off. He’s actually kind of cute when he’s not wailing.”

  Nick eyed Georgia. Timmy wasn’t much of a screecher. Well, apart from normal. But Penny Jergen would probably think any crying was screeching.

  Nick ordered an iced coffee and Georgia chose an iced herbal tea. Penny scowled at Timmy as she grabbed two plastic cups.

  “So, when did you get to hang out with Timmy?” he asked as she made Georgia’s tea.

  Penny glanced at him. “Timmy? I thought his name was Mikey.”

  He frowned. “Mikey?”

  “Duh,” she said. “Short for Michael Jr. As in Mike Anderson’s new baby.”

  Nick’s hope deflated as if she’d stuck a pin right in him. “Mike Anderson’s new baby is very much a redhead like him and his wife.”

  Penny topped the cup with a lid and handed it to Georgia. “Oh. Well, how would I know? I only went over to their house because I’m pretty sure his wife is the one who stole my clothes and shoes. She hated me in high school and she came in here for a job and didn’t get hired and thought I bad-mouthed her. So she stole all my stuff.”

  Just what Blue Gulch needed. Another detective on the wrong track. “Annie Anderson is one of the nicest people I know, Penny.”

  Penny took Nick’s ten-dollar bill and glared at him. “If you know so much, then who stole my two-hundred-dollar jeans? Do you know how many stupid lattes I’ve had to make to earn the money to buy another pair? Not to mention rebuild an entire gorgeous wardrobe. I’ve had to give up going out three nights a week for the overtime.”

  Whoever the thief had been, he or she was very good at covering tracks. “The case is still pending,” he said. “The minute I have more information, I’ll let you know. Keep the change.”

  She humphed at him and turned her attention to the couple who’d just come in.

  He held open the door for Georgia. “I’m beginning to think going through my cases to find Timmy’s mother isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

  “You’ll find his mother,” she said, sticking a straw in her cup. “It may take a lot of these visits, but just like you thought you got close here, someone really will recognize Timmy. I’m sure of it.”

  Nick took a slug of his iced coffee. He wished he had her confidence. Right now he wondered if he’d find Timmy’s mother before she came back—if she came back.

  * * *

  Timmy was fussing in his bassinet. Georgia eyed the alarm clock on the bedside table—1:23 a.m. She got out of bed in her dark bedroom, amazed that she woke up at his slightest move. Maybe I’m getting good at this, she thought. Caregiving. Mothering.

  “I’m going to do right by you, little one,” she whispered, looking down at her belly. “I’m going to work on your father too. I think he’s capable of more than he thinks he is. Don’t you worry. On your daddy’s side, you’ll have an aunt Avery. And you’ll have two aunts on my side. You already have a wonderful little cousin named Lucy. And the best great-grandmother in the world.”

  As she sat down with Timmy and his bottle in the padded rocking chair Nick had brought in from Avery’s room, Georgia thought about her mother and father; they would have made such loving grandparents. She liked the idea of honoring them by naming the baby after them; both their names started with C.

  Caitlin, Christa, Charlotte, Caroline, Claire.

  Connor, Colter, Christopher, Caleb, Nick.

  Nick. She smiled at the idea. She wondered what Nick would think about a little Nick.

  Maybe too much for him right now. No maybe about it.

  “We have to move a bit slowly with your father,” she whispered to her belly. “But I think he’ll come around.”

  She hoped, anyway. It had taken her a while to fall asleep, thinking about how blocked he seemed. But then again, he’d asked her to live here, albeit to care for Timmy, but still. He wanted her close, she knew. To keep an eye on her, to protect her. And their child. A man who couldn’t be reached probably wouldn’t feel that way, wouldn’t be able to have them in his home.

  There was her stupid optimism, she realized, sitting with her thoughts for a while. Finally, she got up to change Timmy, sprinkling a little cornstarch on his bottom and fastening the fresh diaper around his sweet little belly. But possibility was all she had to go on right now, so she was taking it.

  The man definitely didn’t realize what he meant to the people of Blue Gulch. He might be uncomfortable here, letting his bad memories take over the g
ood. But there were clearly some wonderful memories too—of cases like the dognapping. He’d made Harriet Culver feel important. He’d helped a family come together. He’d single-handedly gotten his orphaned teenage sister through the last two years of high school and off to college. He’d done good here.

  And his baby would be born here. From here.

  Revisiting his old cases might turn out to be a great way to show Nick how much Blue Gulch meant to him, that it was his town, that he could change its meaning for himself. There would be good and bad memories everywhere. Blue Gulch was where Georgia had lost her parents in a car accident. But it was also where she’d gotten a new sister—Clementine. Where she’d had her first kiss. Where her family lived. And where she’d raise her child.

  As she scooped up Timmy, the canister of cornstarch fell on the floor with a little thud.

  The door whooshed open.

  “Is everything okay? Did you fall?” Nick asked, his expression intense and frantic. “Did Timmy roll off the changing table?”

  She touched his arm. “No one fell. We’re fine. I knocked off the cornstarch with my elbow.”

  He glanced at it and she saw the release of his broad shoulders as his panic abated.

  God, he was handsome.

  And shirtless.

  He wore a pair of dark blue sweatpants and nothing else. She could barely take her eyes off his chest.

  Memories came over her. The two of them sitting on the couch in her living room in her Houston condo. Talking. The tall, dark and incredibly hot cop making her feel safe, making her dream of a way out, making her want him as she’d never wanted a man before. One minute he’d been telling her about his cat, Mr. Whiskers, and the next, he’d reached his hands up to her face and looked at her, then leaned in to kiss her, possessively and passionately, and she’d responded. Within minutes they’d been naked and on the soft shag rug.