Babies And Badges (American Baby)

by Laura Marie Altom

  Kelsey shook her head. “Thanks for offering, though. So like I was saying, the last thing I want to be is nosy, but when my mom told me how Noah acted around you and your girls that day at the hospital, and that word had it you were still staying with him until your car got fixed—”

  “Wow,” Cassie said, “This town really does have one heck of an active gossip circuit. Sounds like you know just about everything.”

  “Almost—at least all things not pertaining to the inner workings of one Noah Wheeler’s heart.”

  Cassie sharply looked away from another of the blonde’s brilliant smiles.

  “Hit a nerve, did I?”

  “No,” Cassie said. “It’s just that Noah and I are only friends. Nothing more. Not even a little bit more.”

  Still wearing that smile of hers, Kelsey nodded.

  “What?”

  “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

  “HEY,” CASSIE SAID, greeting Noah on the porch swing later that morning. She’d long since stashed all evidence of her early-morning fix from Brenda’s in the trash, and was currently telling herself she wasn’t craving a double cheeseburger, Tater Tots and malt.

  His scowl walked a few paces ahead of him.

  “Had a tough time maneuvering through the Kleghorn’s yard sale traffic, did you?”

  “Grrr. Wouldn’t be so bad if they only had a sale once every couple years like most normal people. But to them, yard sales are a cottage industry.”

  “Yeah, I like the used-car-lot flags Mr. Kleghorn strung through their lilac bushes.”

  Noah growled again before sitting beside her on the swing.

  Glancing his way, Cassie wanted so badly to run her fingers through his hair, easing away the frown lines creasing his forehead. From there, she’d rub his neck and shoulders, maybe finish up with a nice, long foot rub that’d have him purring in no time. She wanted to do all of that, but of course wouldn’t.

  Still, the thought of soon leaving, never seeing him again, never again sitting with him on this swing, the very thought left her short of breath—not to mention curiously hot and dizzy.

  Or maybe that was her Tater Tot craving?

  “What’ve you been up to?”

  “A little of this and that,” she said after slowing her racing pulse. “After keeping each other and me up most of the night, the babies finally fell asleep around ten this morning. I was planning on heading back to bed myself, but I had company stop by.”

  “Oh, boy.” Covering his face with his hands, he said, “Seeing how I’ve got an entire town full of crazies who’d love nothing more than sticking their noses in our business, I’m not even going to venture a guess as to who it might’ve been.”

  “I didn’t even know there was an our. But a me and a you—both quite separate entities.”

  Noah sighed. “You know what I mean.”

  She just smiled.

  He was back to growling. “You gonna tell me who it was, or am I going to have to go down to Mr. Kleghorn and ask him?”

  “Kelsey,” Cassie said more out of a perverse desire to keep Noah all to herself awhile longer than any urge to be helpful.

  “L-like as in my Kelsey?” he stammered.

  “Like as in used-her-towels-to-help-me-through-labor, Kelsey. Speaking of which, I made plans to go with her downtown Monday to buy her a new set—from both of us. I thought I’d throw in a couple of china or flatware place settings, too. Do you happen to know where she and Owen were registered?”

  Noah groaned.

  Worlds colliding. Wasn’t there a Seinfeld episode dealing with this whole issue?

  Cass was his.

  He wanted to lock her in the house and keep her all to himself. The last thing he wanted was any of the nuts in this town getting hold of her, filling her full of poison on the subject of him.

  All because he didn’t want to get married.

  Well, by God, he could teach all of them a few things about marriage, because here lately—

  He touched his hand to his forehead. How many times had he just thought the word marriage without a single stutter? Not many. And yet there, he’d gone and done it again!

  “Noah? You all right?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “Something you put in that nitrite festival of a lunch you packed me isn’t sitting all that well.”

  “Nitrite festival? I thought you’d enjoy all of that stuff—especially the Oreos. They’re delicious!”

  “Yoo-hoo! Hello, Wheelers!” Ancient Mr. and Mrs. Dickenson waved on their way by the house. Mr. Dickenson’s arms were laden with yarn recently purchased at the Kleghorn’s sale, while Mrs. Dickenson held Artie’s leash. Artie being a twenty-one-year-old poodle with the bite of an entire school of piranhas.

  “Hi, Georgia!” Cass called out with a friendly wave.

  Wheelers? As in plural? Georgia?

  Noah had known Mrs. Dickenson all his life, and here he was well into his thirties and still not allowed to call her by her first name!

  “How’re those adorable babies?”

  “Back to being adorable now that they finally fell asleep.”

  Mr. Dickenson called out, “Noah, talk down at the Elks’ Lodge is that you’re gonna have trouble come election time if you don’t get that McNally boy under control.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m working on it.”

  “The way me and my boys see it, that’s not near good enough—”

  “Hush.” Mrs. Dickenson smacked his arm. “The man’s a new daddy. He’s got enough on his hands worrying about those two little ones and his new bride. He can’t be expected to take on the whole world in one day.”

  “Yes, well—”

  Artie growled at a chattering squirrel.

  “Come on, Momma. Let’s get our little one home.” Mr. Dickenson nudged his wife on her way.

  “Cassie, honey, I want to see you at next Tuesday’s rose club luncheon!”

  Cass started to form an objection—at least that’s what Noah hoped she’d been on the verge of doing, but it was too late. One of Riverdale’s premier gossiping couples were already on their way.

  “Mind telling me what that was all about?” he asked with a sideways glance.

  “Sounded like a friendly neighborhood hello to me—all except for the part about your upcoming reelection. Is this Zane kid making your life a nightmare?”

  “Yep.” And then there’s you.

  But then was it her making life tough, or him? His own inability to relax knowing she was in the same country as him, let alone the same house. As for the times they’d shared his bed…

  Nope. He wasn’t going there.

  Friends. All they were was friends.

  And to prove that being called The Wheelers by Mrs. Dickenson hadn’t in any way affected him, he playfully rested his arm on Cass’s shoulders. “So, Mrs. Wheeler, what should we do today? Take the kids to the park? Grill a couple steaks?”

  “Mmm, Mr. Wheeler, you know how I feel about red meat, but I suppose today I could make an exception—if you agree to grill burgers.”

  He gave her a squeeze. “This coming from the woman who fed me bologna? Why, Mrs. Wheeler, I must say I’m shocked.”

  Not half as shocked as you would be if you knew how badly I want to kiss you right now. Cassie was yet again fighting for breath. Did Noah have any idea how handsome he was? That wide smile of his, brimming with strong white teeth. His spiky-short hair eternally mussed. His deep brown eyes, and those laugh crinkles at the corners that told her no matter how serious his life became, he still knew how to celebrate the good times.

  “What’s going through that gorgeous head of yours, Mrs. Wheeler?” Fingers whisper-soft against her forehead, he brushed her hair back from her eyes.

  I’m trying to count the number of times you’ve called me Mrs. Wheeler, and wondering what it might imply. “Does a girl always have to be thinking?” Can’t she just sit here enjoying the view?

  Eyes narrowed, he said, “I don’t t
rust you when you’re quiet like this.”

  “That makes two of us, because I don’t trust you when you’re teasing me like this.”

  “Don’t trust me to what?” he said, inching closer, wielding that intoxicating grin.

  To make good on that promise in your eyes.

  “Not do this?” he asked, gently tugging a lock of her hair.

  “Ouch.”

  “Wimp.”

  “Heck, yeah,” she said. “Kiss me and make it better.”

  He did, and eyes closed, butterflies in her stomach easing into a gentle flutter, she melted against him, drinking in his warmth, his strength, his goodness that she’d never dreamed of ever finding in a man. She’d been the victim of Tom’s lies, but why punish herself? Why for one more second deny herself these heady pleasures?

  Why? Her conscience blurted just as the kiss turned exceptionally good. Because this guy doesn’t want you. I mean, yeah, obviously, at the moment he’s pretty into you, but isn’t he the same guy perpetually spouting on about how the two of you will never be anything but friends? Don’t you deserve more, Cassie? Don’t your babies deserve more?

  “Mmm, baby…” he said. “Damn, you taste good. Suspiciously like maple syrup—maybe an Oreo. You haven’t been into my stash, have you?”

  “Guilty,” she said. On so many counts. Namely, wanting you. “Noah,” Cassie said, hands on his chest. “This has to stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Aren’t you the one always yammering on about how we’re just friends?”

  “I don’t yammer.”

  “You also don’t commit. Ringing any bells?”

  “Who said anything about commitment? All I want after a crappy night of work is a nice, long kiss from my…” He sharply looked away. “I get your point.”

  “Exactly. What am I to you, Noah? Houseguest? Girlfriend? Playmate of the Month?”

  “Never. You know you mean more to me than that.”

  “Do I?”

  “Heck, yeah. I mean, I helped deliver your babies for pity’s sake. You and those girls mean the world to me.”

  “Just as long as that world doesn’t get too narrow?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, come on, Noah. Read between the lines. It means it’s okay for us to kiss as long as we only do it on your terms.”

  “Fair enough,” Noah said. “So tell me, what’re your terms?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Noah stared.

  Cassie looked away.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Oh, come on.” She forced a laugh. “How am I supposed to answer something like that?”

  “You asked it. Answer it.”

  “It wasn’t that kind of a question and you know it.”

  “What kind of question was it?”

  “What kind of kiss was it?”

  A damned hot one. Noah pushed himself up from the swing. “I’ve gotta get some rest.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. We’re going to settle this. Now.”

  “Give me a break,” Noah said. “What do you want from me?”

  A husband. Though thankfully Cassie hadn’t said the thought aloud, she put her hand to her mouth—just in case.

  No. No, she hardly knew Noah. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she already learned her lesson with Tom? Hadn’t he taught her only too well what havoc misplaced trust played upon her heart? Why would she even think of getting herself into another set of lifelong vows? Especially with a guy who every girl in town save for her knew had no intention of ever marrying again?

  “Cass?” Sitting back beside her on the swing, he said, “What do you want from me?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry I ever brought it up.”

  “No. I started this by kissing you. It’s only logical for you to now wonder where things stand between us.”

  Nowhere.

  A fact which she’d known all along. So why, since the fact wasn’t anything new, did it hurt so bad to admit? Even if only to herself? “I just want us to be friends, okay?”

  He nodded, reached to her lap to take her hands into his. “Friends sounds good.”

  No, not good—safe.

  “As, um, my friend, care to join me in a nap before the girls wake up?”

  FIVE MINUTES LATER, lying beside Noah on his big bed, Cassie sighed.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “For my body being bone weary, but my brain being wide-awake.”

  “Come here.” Tugging her closer, he rested his hand in the hollow of her hip, awakening places Cassie thought her body had temporarily closed for repairs.

  “Um, excuse me,” she said, “but isn’t closeness a direct violation of the friendship rule?”

  “Only if you’re under the age of fourteen.”

  “Oh.”

  “Roll over.”

  “Why?”

  “You ask too many questions. Can’t you just for once do as I ask?”

  “Not without a valid reason.”

  “Okay, then, how about this, because we’ll both be more comfortable.” Easing her over, he cinched her backside to his front, spooning her with his hand warming her belly, his arm forming a pillow for her head. He was right. This was comfy. Dangerously comfy. And for once, she didn’t care.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Cassie asked, strolling sleepy-eyed into the kitchen. Afternoon sun slanted through the windows, bathing Noah and the babies in a golden glow. He held a girl in each of his arms, and on the table a thick book of nursery rhymes was held open by twin cans of baked beans.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing? These kiddos’ve been watching too much TV,” he said with a laugh. “Time for them to get some book smarts.”

  The sight of him holding her two girls brought instant tears. How was she supposed to want him to be nothing more than a friend, when everything about him screamed great husband and father? Was it pregnancy hormones bringing on this nesting instinct? Or was it something more?

  Swallowing hard, she said, “How are they doing?”

  “Straight As. How else would our kids be other than brilliant?”

  “You say that a lot, you know,” she said, taking Hope from his arms.

  “What?”

  “That the babies are ours. Do you really feel that way?”

  He took a long time to answer. “You know, I do. Just like I know I probably sound like a major nutcase for even saying something like this, but having that front row seat to see them come into the world—actually helping them into the world, it’s made me feel kind of proprietary about them.” He shrugged. “Guess it’s a finders-keepers sort of guy thing.”

  She smiled on the outside, but on the inside came crushing sadness for the way things might’ve been if only each of them in their own highly personal ways weren’t so afraid to trust. Because Noah refused to open up, she could only guess at the pain lining his heart.

  Her own pain, now that was something she was intimately acquainted with.

  And here was Noah, so different from Tom, so very good. Caring for her and her girls not in flashy ways, but in genuine little ways that showed more about his character in one tucked blanket or tender diaper change than any of the fancy cars or jewels her husband had bought her with her own money.

  She longed to fling her arms around Noah, kissing him while at the same time showing him in a hundred different ways that everything between them would always be all right. But she could no more guarantee that than she could be sure he’d win his reelection by a landslide. Some things were out of her control, and sadly, their relationship—or lack thereof—was one of them.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said. “Moe called me down at the station about your car. It’ll be ready Monday morning.”

  “Monday, huh? There goes my shopping trip with Kelsey.”

  “Is that so bad? What’s the matter? I thought you’d be thrilled, but you look like you’re—”

  “I’m just sleepy, okay?” She f
aked a yawn. Forcing a chipper tone, she then added, “Did you hear that, sweetie? Monday we’ll be going home.”

  “Would you rather stay on ’til Tuesday?” Noah asked. “You and Kelsey could do your girl thing. Plus, I’ve got to be in court Monday, meaning I can’t drive you unless you want to get a late start. Tuesday would probably just be better all around.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll go with the limo company as I’d originally planned.”

  “I thought we’d been over this. I want to take you home.”

  “Noah…” She sighed. “For the last time, as much as I’ve appreciated your help over the past weeks, you’re not in any way beholden to me. If anything, I owe you.”

  “Okay then, if you won’t let me drive you home, then at least let Jimmy do it.”

  “Jimmy? The same Jimmy who crashed my car?”

  “Aside from that one incident, he’s got a spotless driving record. I think getting behind the wheel of your snazzy car just got him a little too excited. Please, Cass. You just said you owed me. I trust Jimmy. If you insist on going home Monday, he’s your man.”

  No, Noah. You’re my man. If only we could both learn to trust enough to let each other in.

  But seeing how the likelihood of that happening was zilch, Cassie resigned herself to taking a very long drive with a very young deputy she hoped had learned his lesson on the evils of fast driving!

  The phone rang.

  “Want me to get it?” Cassie asked.

  “Nah, I’ve been waiting on the results of some fingerprints I sent off. That’s probably Briggs.” On his way to the phone, Noah passed her the babies, then took the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sheriff.”

  “Hey yourself, Cratchett.” Cratchett was usually one of the night shift guys, who’d recently been pinch-hitting for him on the day shift. “You get those fingerprint reports?”

  “No, but I did just get a call from Delores down at Dollar General.”

  “Oh?”

  “She said she just caught three teenaged girls shoplifting chocolate Santas from out of her sale bin, but that when she confronted them, they ran off, and were too quick for her to catch them.”