Every time he thought he was coming close to getting the hang of caring for her, Daisy threw him one of these curveballs that he found impossible to catch.
"A lullaby," he said, sitting down on the tiny sofa. In the old days, lullabies worked wonders. "Okay, Daisy," he said. "Here goes."
"What on earth is that racket?" Jeannie, clad in one of his shirts, appeared in the doorway a few moments later. "It sounds like nails on a blackboard."
He shot her a look. "I was singing."
"Oh, that's what you call it," said Jeannie, laughing. "Then why is the poor baby crying louder than she was before?"
"I don't know," he said, feeling about as useful as a dead battery. "I can't figure it out."
"I can," said Jeannie. "I'll bet she's teething."
He tried to peek inside Daisy's tiny mouth but she only wailed louder."Does she feel as bad as she sounds?" he asked, feeling more helpless than he had since the day Daisy was born.
"Afraid so." She held out her arms for the baby who was more than happy to wail in Jeannie's ear as well as his own.
A myriad of emotions, all of them foreign, played themselves out inside Hunter as he watched the woman he had just made love to care for his baby girl. The transition from raw passion to tenderness was swift and sudden, but somehow he felt as if it were all part of the same wonderful whole.
She spoke low to Daisy, her voice soothing and almost hypnotic, and before long the baby's fair head dropped against Jeannie's shoulder. This isn't about a job, he thought as Jeannie walked up and down the length of the room. No one could fake the very real communication the woman and child shared.
Or the deep sense of coming home that grew inside his heart with each minute that passed.
The ship docked a little after ten in the morning. Daisy had finally fallen asleep a few hours earlier and Hunter and Jeannie had tiptoed around the suite, packing up their things for debarkation.
Instead of complicating matters, making love had freed Hunter and Jeannie to be their true selves for the first time in days. In his experience the morning after had been about promises you might keep and illusions you wished you could keep. Reality cast a harsh light, one that few romantic relationships could stand.
This time, however, reality added a luster, a depth, that made him wonder if he'd understood anything at all about life before meeting Jeannie.
It was drizzling when they left the ship. "You hold Daisy," Hunter said. "I'll flag us down a cab." He was about to hand over the baby when he saw a familiar face in the crowd. "Damn it," he said. "That's my secretary."
"Hail the conquering hero!" Lisa called out, waving gaily through the crowd of debarking passengers. "We got your faxes, Hunter. The top guns are singing your praises!" She looked at Jeannie with open curiosity. "Hi," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Lisa, Hunter's assistant."
"Jeannie Ross."
"Jeannie Ross," said Lisa, with a knowing look. "You're the baby wrangler I spoke to on the phone. What are you--" She glanced over at Hunter. "I mean...." Her words trailed off.
"I took care of Daisy on the trip," said Jeannie.
Lisa's smile was knowing. She turned back to Hunter. "You have to get to the office pronto. They sent me over in a limo to bring you back in style."
Hunter muttered something under his breath. Jeannie smiled to herself. Knowing he had been sent on the trip with the expectation of failure must make his victory doubly sweet.
"Go," she said for his ears only. "I'll take a taxi home."
"No way. You're taking the limo with us."
He was an amazing man. Another guy might have played to his audience, making certain one and all knew that they were lovers. Or treated her like an employee.
Not Hunter. He didn't flaunt their relationship but the fact that there was deep affection and respect was obvious. The conclusions Lisa drew all depended upon how perceptive she was--or how imaginative.
"I'm sorry she found us," he said as he walked her to her door while the limo waited at the curb downstairs.
"So am I."
They lingered in the hallway, unwilling to let go of the magic.
"I'll call you," he said. "This isn't the end, Jeannie. It's only the beginning."
"Omigod," said Kate the moment Jeannie opened the door. "I was right. You did it!"
"Shh!" She ushered Kate inside, then closed and locked the door behind her. "Must you broadcast everything to the entire building?"
Kate made an annoyed face. "I don't care about the building. I want details." She perched on the arm of the sofa and fixed Jeannie with a knowing look. "And the juicier the better."
"The pizza's getting cold," said Jeannie. "Let's eat."
"Uh-oh," said Kate, following Jeannie through the hallway. "This is serious."
Kate had the unnerving habit of being dead-on more often than not. This time was no exception. Jeannie had no idea how she was going to manage to dodge her questions for an entire evening.
"The crushed peppers are on the table," she said, opening the door to the fridge then grabbing a bottle of Diet Coke. "Do you want garlic salt?"
"I'd settle for a few answers."
Jeannie sat down opposite her friend and filled their glasses with soda. "The cruise was great. I highly recommend it."
"And the bachelor father? How was he?"
She felt the heat moving upward from her chest. Thirty years old and she'd never once blushed--not until she met Hunter Phillips.
"So that's the way it is," said Kate. "I hope you were careful. These are dangerous times."
"I hope you'll take this the right way, Kate," she said, choosing her words with care, "but that's none of your business." She paused a moment. "Yes, we were careful."
Kate considered her for a long moment. Finally a smile lit her eyes. "I'm happy for you."
"Kate, don't--"
"I mean it, Jeannie. No jokes this time. Not even from an unemployed comic."
Jeannie arched a brow. "No lectures on the perfidy of men?"
"Not today." Kate regarded Jeannie with earnest intensity. "Just some advice."
Jeannie addressed herself to her pizza. She didn't want advice. She didn't want to let reality anywhere near the wonder she'd found with Hunter.
"Go slow," said Kate. "If it's the real thing, it'll still be there six months from now."
Jeannie laughed out loud. "What a strange thing to say! Do I look like a woman about to elope?"
"I know that look," said Kate, not laughing. "I looked that way when I ran off with the lawyer from New Jersey." She paused. "The one who broke my heart, I might add."
"I think you're making too much out of this," Jeannie said. "He might never call me again." Of course she didn't believe that, anymore than she believed he would ever break her heart.
"He'll call. You made things wonderfully easy for him. No man can resist that."
"You sound cynical, Kate."
"Just realistic. You told me he was a shark when it came to business."
The telephone rang. Jeannie's heart leaped into her throat.
"That's him," said Kate.
"I doubt it," said Jeannie. "We just said goodbye a few hours ago."
The phone rang a second time.
"If you don't answer it, I will," said Kate.
Jeannie stood up and reached for the wall phone.
"I miss you." Hunter's voice, deep and thrilling, curled itself inside her ear.
Kate, bless her heart, took her pizza into the living room. Jeannie sank back down onto her chair.
"Me too," she said.
"Is your friend still there?"
"She's in the living room."
"I want to come over."
"What?!"
"I want to see your face."
"Hunter, I--"
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
"But Kate--"
"You can introduce us."
"The pizza...."
"Save me a slice."
"This is--"
"Ten minutes."
In a daze she made her way into the living room. "He's coming over."
Kate finished her slice of pizza. "I'm out of here."
"No," said Jeannie, "he wants to meet you."
"You're kidding. They never want to meet your friends."
"My hair!" Jeannie exclaimed. "My makeup! I'm a disaster."
"You look beautiful," Kate said, laughing. "You always do."
Jeannie, however, dashed to her bedroom to make repairs. In a million years she hadn't expected to hear from Hunter so soon, much less see him. She turned on the radio then tuned it to some soft music. Eyeliner. Shadow. Lipstick.
"Don't you dare say anything to embarrass me, Kate," Jeannie called out as she walked through a cloud of Chanel No. 5, and then headed toward the living room. "One word about whirlwind romances and, so help me, I'll--"
She stopped in the doorway to the living room. Hunter stood near the fireplace while Kate scurried around on the floor with a laughing Daisy in pursuit.
"Oh." Her breath left her body in a rush.
"Hi, Jeannie." Hunter met her eyes across the room and her knees actually went weak. Up until that moment Jeannie had thought knees only went weak in 19th century novels.
"Hello, Hunter." She wanted to run to him, feel his arms around her, catch the familiar but exciting scent of his skin.
Kate had been watching them. "I have an idea," she said, scrambling to her feet. "My sister's kids were here last week and they left half their toys on my living room floor. Why don't I take Daisy and introduce her to her very own branch of FAO Schwartz?"
Hunter looked at Jeannie.
"Kate lives across the hall," Jeannie said, heart pounding against her rib cage.
"Sure," said Hunter, looking at Kate. "If Daisy doesn't mind."
Kate scooped up Daisy into her arms. "What do you say?" she asked the baby.
Daisy grabbed a handful of Kate's hair and giggled.
"I think that's a yes," said Kate. "Knock on the door when you're...ready."
"Nice woman," said Hunter as the door closed behind Kate.
"Perceptive," said Jeannie.
"I--"
"You--"
No more words.
They came together in a rush of heat. His mouth was hungry against hers. She felt dizzy with longing.
Greedily, they touched and tasted until they fell onto the couch in a tangle of arms and legs.
"I missed you," Jeannie whispered against his mouth.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he said, sliding his hands under her shirt. Waves of sensation washed over her.
"We can't," she said. "Kate...the baby...." The fact that neither of them had expected spontaneous combustion.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Dinner."
She nodded. She would have said yes to anything he suggested. "What about Daisy?"
"I'll find a sitter," he said, "if I have to call Mother Theresa to do the job."
"Maybe Kate would," Jeannie said.
"We'll find a way," he said, kissing her hard. "I promise you that."
Tuesday night they went to a four-star French restaurant while Kate watched Daisy. Candlelight flickered. Soft music played. They left their plates untouched while they held hands and looked into each other's eyes.
Wednesday night they kissed through an off-off-Broadway show.
Thursday night they took Daisy to Rumpelmayer's, and then the three of them enjoyed a carriage ride through the Park. Saying goodnight was torture. The hours they spent apart stretched out like years. Their old lives no longer fit. Those four nights on the ship had bonded them as a family in a way neither could have expected.
Jeannie wandered around her apartment, listening to old records and daydreaming. This isn't enough, she thought. She wanted to fall asleep in Hunter's arms and wake up to the sound of Daisy's laughter. She'd had a taste of how wonderful life could be and she was determined to grab happiness with both hands.
Hunter, riding on his success with the Star of the Atlantic, kept his office door closed during the day so he could stare out the window and think about Jeannie. That incredible burst of turbo-charged energy and creativity he'd experienced aboard ship was just out of reach and he knew that Jeannie was the key to bringing it back again.
"So now what, Daisy?" he asked as he tossed a foam rubber basketball through the hoop attached to the far wall of his office. "Do we or don't we?"
"Daah," said Daisy from her playpen next to his desk.
"Is that yes or no?"
She looked at him, cornflower blue eyes wide, and popped her thumb into her mouth.
"Not talking, huh?" He rolled the basketball toward her, laughing as her little feet pumped the air as if she wanted to kick it. "I'm looking for answers and all you can do is give me the silent treatment."
Truth was, these days even Daisy wasn't herself when Jeannie wasn't around. As for Hunter, he couldn't sleep, couldn't work, could think of only one way to bring all the disparate parts of his life together.
At first he denied it. Then he considered it.
And by Friday morning Hunter knew exactly what he was going to do.
"This is a strange place for lunch," said Jeannie as she settled into her seat opposite Hunter and Daisy. "Most people don't grab a sandwich in a hospital cafeteria unless they have to." Apprehension swooped down on her. "Hunter! Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said, looking terribly serious.
"Thank God," she breathed, slumping back in her seat. "Then why are we here?"
He leaned forward. Even Daisy looked serious. "It's not working, Jeannie. Dinner...dancing...it's just not cutting it."
She looked down at the scarred surface of the table. "I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Don't you?"
She met his eyes and saw herself, and all she was, reflected in them. "What--what exactly are you talking about, Hunter?"
"Let's get married."
The words hit her with the force of a physical blow. "Married?"
He laughed, leaning across the Formica table and gathering her hands in his. "Hitched. Wed. Whatever you want to call it. Let's just go and do it. A friend of mine's a doctor here. We could have the blood tests done right now then go see about a license."
"But we--I mean...." Come on, Jeannie, you can do better than that. She knew the idea was crazy but, for the life of her, she couldn't imagine why.
"I'm not eating or sleeping or working worth a damn. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you...about how much I want to see you. When I am with you, I'm worried about how little time we have. It can't go on like this, Jeannie."
Jeannie swallowed hard. "When we said goodbye this morning, I found I missed you and Daisy so much I thought my heart was going to break." Before meeting Hunter and Daisy, she'd accepted loneliness as her punishment. Now she felt as if she had been standing alone in a dark, forbidding room and somebody turned on the lights, showing her that the monsters in the darkness were only her own dreams finally taking form.
"It's crazy," she said.
"I don't deny that. But it's the real thing, isn't it, Jeannie? The whole damn package right here in front of us."
"It's perfect," she breathed. "All of it. The way it is with us... with Daisy. It's so perfect that it scares me." She paused. Happy endings were possible. She had to believe that.
"I'm not married," he said. "You're not married--"
"But I--"
"No 'buts,'" he broke in. "There's nothing stopping us."
"Hunter, I--"
"So what's it going to be?" he demanded. "Are you willing to take a chance?"
She thought of her empty apartment, of her cold and lonely bed, of the endless days and nights stretching out ahead of her into infinity.
"Yes," she said, starting to laugh. "I'm willing to take a chance!"
They hurried up to the third floor where Hunter's friend performed the blood tests while lecturing on the wonders of marriage.
&nb
sp; "Audrey's a newlywed," Hunter said.
"Five weeks, three days, and six hours," said Audrey, flashing her wedding band. "I highly recommend it."
They took that as an omen.
Of course, they took everything as an omen that afternoon. The light turned green they moment they reached the corner and Hunter said it meant the gods wanted them to get married. Jeannie saw a pot of shamrocks in the window of a shop that sold Waterford crystal and she said the luck of the Irish was on their side.
And when the first cab Hunter whistled for screeched to a halt and welcomed them, they knew they were home free.
They stopped at their respective apartments for birth certificates and ID, and then cabbed downtown to a city office building where they filled out an application for a marriage license. Even Daisy seemed filled with excitement.
"You're thirty-four?" Jeannie asked, peering down at the information on his side of the form.
"I look older?"
"Younger."
He glanced down at her side. "An April Fool's Day baby?"
She glared at him. "One bad joke, Hunter, and so help me...."
There was so much to learn, so many wonderful things to share, and so little time to get ready.
Hunter found himself thinking more and more about family as their wedding day rapidly drew near.
He had no illusions about how his own parents would react to his upcoming marriage. His anger over their treatment of Callie's pregnancy still burned, but these days that anger was laced with regret.
"Callie would've been crazy about you," he said to Jeannie one night over dinner.
"I wish I'd met her. I keep trying to imagine you as a little boy. It would be nice to speak to an eye witness." She paused. "I don't suppose you'd consider asking your parents to fly in for the wedding."
"You're right," he said. "I wouldn't."
His family wouldn't come if asked.
Her family would come, but they weren't invited.
He looked over at Jeannie. Her smile was as open and sunny as Daisy's toothless grin. There was no reason for the persistent sense that things weren't exactly as they seemed. Why look for trouble, he thought. They'd have a lifetime to work out their family problems.
Daddy's Girl (Bachelor Fathers) Page 9
