“She won’t turn over,” Maddie assured him.
They’d survived the bath. Another bottle. Another diaper.
“How do you know?”
“Because she hasn’t learned how to, yet.” She picked up the baby monitor and took his arm, pulling him away from the crib.
“Well, when’s she going to learn?” He followed her into the hall.
“Sooner than you’ll be ready for.”
* * *
“It’s two freaking o’clock.” He threw himself down on the bed beside her.
Maddie shook her head, not wanting to lift her cheek from the pillow. But she peeled her eyes open enough to see him sprawled beside her. Jeans. No shirt. Arm tossed across his eyes. “You have a bed of your own. One that’s not dinky.”
“Too far,” he muttered. He was holding the baby monitor in his hand. “How long’s she going to sleep this time?”
She closed her eyes again. “Not long enough,” she whispered.
* * *
“S’not my turn, babe,” Linc murmured. He rolled over, essentially pushing her out of her own bed. The monitor was on the floor. No need for it when they could both hear Layla crying, plain as 5:00 a.m.
Maddie dragged herself out of bed, nearly tripping over the boots on the floor. His? Hers? Who could tell?
Another diaper.
Another bottle.
“Your turn next time,” she whispered, crawling back into bed.
He grunted. His arm hooked over her waist and he buried his nose in her neck.
She should have noticed more, but her eyes were already closing.
* * *
The sun was warm through the window.
Maddie sighed luxuriously. Stretched her legs.
It wasn’t the sun that was warm.
She opened her eyes. Felt the heavy arm around her.
She leaned forward carefully, remembering that the monitor was on the floor.
His thigh pushed against hers. “She’s asleep. Miraculously.” The monitor dropped from his other hand onto the mattress near her nose. “Be still.”
When everything inside her was skittering around like oil in a hot skillet? “It’s Monday. Don’t you have to go to work?”
“Boss’s privilege.” His arm tightened. “Told you to be still.”
As if. She tried to remember when he’d come in to lie on her bed. “Linc—”
He exhaled and grabbed her hands, rolling over her. “I warned you. Morning breath coming in.” His head lowered over hers.
There was no morning breath.
Only a long, slow, lazy kiss that made her dissolve.
“I shouldn’t do this,” she whispered when his hands slid beneath her sweater.
He didn’t stop. “But I should.” He pulled the sweater over her head. His intense eyes slid over like a warm caress.
“I don’t, uh, don’t know if it’s ethical—” It was an excuse. Anything to stem the churning need that rose inside her as surely as Layla’s bathwater flooded the floor every single time. “I’m Layla’s care—” His mouth cut off her words.
She couldn’t help the sound that rose in her throat when his hands slid away from hers, but only to make her jeans slide away, too.
“If you wake up Layla,” he murmured against her throat, “I’m going to have to get rough here.”
She shuddered, running her greedy fingers over his hot chest. If he stopped, she was going to get positively crazy. “I’m quaking in my boots,” she managed almost soundlessly.
“You’re not wearing any.” He proved it by kissing his way down her thigh to her knee.
Neither was he, she realized dimly.
And then his kiss started upward again.
And then she simply quaked.
Chapter Thirteen
“Get your coat.”
Maddie paused and looked down at the sink full of suds where she was washing their lunch dishes. “Um...can we finish here?” She rinsed the plate and held it toward him.
His eyes glinted and he dropped a kiss on her shoulder, ignoring the plate that he’d claimed he would dry. “I do like the way we finish.”
She flushed. Not even the fact that Layla was strapped to the front of her kept warm, slippery heat from filling her. “You said you’d dry,” she reminded him.
He grabbed the plate and gave it a cursory rub with the dishtowel. “It’s dry. And next time use the dishwasher. That’s what it’s for.” He took the sponge out of her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen.
She couldn’t help laughing. “Linc!”
He brushed her lips with his, then ducked his head and brushed a kiss over Layla’s nose. “Now go and get your coat.”
“Why?”
His teeth flashed. “You’ll see.” He bolted up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time.
Maddie looked at Layla. “Who is that pod person who’s taken over Uncle Linc? Hmm?”
Layla kicked and chortled. She grabbed Maddie’s hair and gave a merry yank.
“Yeah, I like him, too,” Maddie admitted quietly.
She more than liked him. She was stick stupid head over her heels for the man.
“You getting your coat?” Linc yelled from upstairs.
“Yes,” she yelled back. They were hanging in the foyer. She tucked Layla into hers first, then strapped her into the fabric carrier before pulling on her own coat. She couldn’t fasten the buttons, but with their combined body heat, she wasn’t concerned. Then she covered the baby’s head with Vivian’s cap and hoped that it would stay there for more than a few minutes.
Maddie heard him on the stairs and turned to look.
And she was afraid that her heart would just crack right then and there.
Because he was carrying an old-fashioned wooden sled.
When he reached her, he leaned it against the door long enough to pull on his own coat. “It was in the attic, too.” He picked it up again and opened the door. “Be lucky if it even glides. Runners haven’t been waxed in God knows how long. But I figure it’s worth a try.”
She swallowed past the knot in her throat and followed him out onto the wide porch, down the brick steps and out onto the lawn where he dropped the sled in the snow. There was a short length of rope tied to the pointed front end. Probably the same rope that had been there when they were children. And it had been old, even then.
He stuck his boot down on the wood slats, experimentally pushing the sled back and forth. “Better than I expected.”
She hugged her arms around Layla. She was kicking even more excitedly, as if she knew something fun awaited. Or maybe she was just keeping tempo with the chugging of Maddie’s racing heart.
“Come on.” He took the rope and gestured to the sled. “The chariot awaits.”
Everything inside her wanted to get on that sled. But she hesitated. “I don’t know. Layla—”
“I can’t fit a car seat on the thing,” he said dryly. “I’m just going to pull you around the yard, not hook you up to the back of the truck.”
She crunched through the snow, waddling a little to keep her balance.
“You look like you’re about twenty months pregnant with her strapped to the front of you like she is.”
“Lovely.” She knew her cheeks were red and blamed it on the cold. She was on the pill. But just the word “pregnant” made her thoughts zip where they had no business zipping.
She awkwardly straddled the sleigh and managed to sit down on it without falling on her butt. She adjusted Layla a little and crossed her legs atop the sled. “I don’t remember this thing being quite so narrow.”
He laughed softly. “You’re still pretty damn cute on it, though.” He grabbed the rope and started walking. �
��Hold on.”
“To what?” She gasped as the sled jerked forward. “Layla or the sled?”
“Both.” He walked a little faster. The runners began moving a little more smoothly. “I don’t remember this thing being quite so heavy.”
She scooped up a handful of snow and pelted the back of his head.
He jerked as it hit and looked back at her. He brushed snow out of his hair, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good thing you’ve got Layla protecting you.”
“Yeah, I’m really worried.”
His expression turned downright wicked. “Quaking in your boots?”
She opened her mouth, but had no retort. Probably because all of her senses were swirling around in memories from that morning when they’d made love.
Then Layla squealed, kicking her feet, and Linc laughed again. He grabbed fresh hold of the rope and started running, dragging the sled and her heart merrily along.
They made it twice up and down the long, sloping yard and almost all the way out to the iron gate and back before Linc finally called it quits.
He pulled the sleigh up to the front of the house and dropped right onto his back in the snow. “That,” he puffed, “is work.”
Maddie unfolded her legs, groaning at how stiff they felt. “Nobody said you had to pull us for miles.” Holding one arm around Layla, she managed to slide off the sled until she was on her back in the snow, too. She automatically pulled Layla’s hat more firmly down over her ears. The afternoon sky was turning pale overhead. Clouds were starting to form. “But thank you.” She reached out her gloved hand until it bumped Linc. “That was—” perfect “—a lot of fun.”
He bumped her back. “Thank you.”
Her vision blurred and she blinked hard, willing it to clear.
But then his hand moved away and he sat up.
Only then did she realize a car was heading up the long driveway. She didn’t even think a thing about it as she sat up, too, and watched it approach. Cold was seeping through her jeans by the time it reached the wide circle in front of the house and parked.
Then she scrambled to her feet when she recognized her cousin climbing from the vehicle.
“What’s Justin doing here?” Linc stood also.
She swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry. She wrapped one arm around Layla, and reached for him with her other. “He must have the DNA comparison.” She couldn’t imagine any other reason why he would have made the drive to Braden.
Linc exhaled an oath. His hand tightened around hers, almost crushing her fingers. “He’s not smiling.”
She felt an abrupt urge to turn. To take Layla and just keep running.
But she didn’t. She watched Justin head up the first set of shallow brick steps. Then the second. Until finally he stopped in front of them.
And she knew. Just from the solemn expression in his eyes.
“They’re not a match,” she said huskily.
Justin looked at Linc. “I’m sorry.” He was holding an envelope in his hand. “I figured you’d want to know as soon as possible, but I couldn’t make myself tell you over the phone. The woman at your office said you hadn’t come in.” He extended the envelope. “I know it’s not what you were expecting. This is a copy of the report I’ve transmitted to the court.”
Linc slowly released Maddie’s hand before taking it. “This is a mistake.”
“We ran them twice,” Justin said. “I checked them personally. Even if Jax were here to compare—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I could cite all the technical jargon I explain in the report, but there is no way Layla is your brother’s child, Linc. Not unless you and Jax have different biological fathers.” He waited a beat. As if he hoped to hear it was possible. But Linc didn’t even flinch. “You should have a certain percentage of half-identical DNA,” he continued. “And you don’t. It’s not even close. I’m sorry.”
Linc slowly sank down on the porch step. He stared at the unopened envelope in his hand. The hollow expression in his eyes was more than Maddie could bear.
Justin lightly touched Maddie’s elbow. Sympathy was clear in his face. Then he turned and headed back to his car.
She watched him go through a glaze of tears.
Linc still hadn’t moved, even when Justin’s car was no longer in sight.
She sat next to him, pressing her cheek against Layla’s head. She’d fallen asleep. At least she had no clue of the blow.
Maddie slid her hand over Linc’s shoulder. “Linc. What Justin said. About you and Jax having different fathers—”
He finally stirred. “We don’t.” His voice came from somewhere very deep. “Out of all our parents’ sins, that isn’t one of them.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, wishing that such questions never needed to be asked. But his parents’ infidelities were common knowledge. “How do you know for certain?”
“Ernestine,” he said heavily. “She didn’t like us hearing rumors. She made sure we knew who we were. Her grandsons.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You warned me. I didn’t listen.” His voice went even lower. Rawer. “You need to leave me alone now, Maddie.”
Her tears spilled over. She wiped them away and leaned toward him, pressing her mouth to his temple before she stood.
Then she carried the baby inside the house. Up the stairs past the Christmas tree. Beyond the tilted star. Into the nursery.
She carefully unwound herself from her coat and the multistrapped carrier, finally unveiling the baby. She didn’t put Layla in the crib, though. She just sat down in the upholstered chair and held her close.
Because now there really was no guarantee how much longer she’d be able to hold her at all.
And without Layla, there would also be no reason for Maddie to stay.
* * *
“Take it all.” Linc stood in the doorway of the nursery.
They’d just come from court.
Judge Stokes had been sympathetic. But inflexible.
They knew even less about Layla than they thought. If her mother—or father, whoever he might be—didn’t step forward within the next ninety days, Layla would be eligible for adoption.
And the list of families waiting for a baby just like her was about a mile and a half long.
Even if Maddie and Linc got their names on the list, there were dozens ahead of them. The fact that they’d been caring for Layla for the past week and a half counted for nothing.
“The Perezes are a good couple.” Her composure was tenuous as she packed Layla’s clothes into a box.
Ray had taken Layla from them at the courthouse. Maddie had feared that Linc was going to physically assault her boss when he’d done so. But she knew that Ray was truly no happier about the result than she was. He’d even told her she could come back from vacation. He’d assign her as Layla’s caseworker.
It was small comfort when she wanted to be so much more.
“They h-have two children of their own. Shelley—Mrs. Perez—used to be a nurse. Now, she’s a stay-at-home mom. Steven is a school counselor. I’ve worked with them for...for years—” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “They’re good fosters. They’ll take excellent care of her.” But she knew from experience how much space the Perezes had in their four-bedroom house. “They don’t have room for any of this, though.” She slowly closed the flaps of the box. “Except clothes and diapers—” Her voice broke again.
Linc crossed the room and pulled her against him. “I could still be a foster parent. Get qualified. If you married me, we’d be almost as good as the Perezes.”
She buried her face against his chest. She couldn’t bear his offer of marriage. “They won’t be keeping her, either. Not once she’s available for adoption.”
His arms ti
ghtened. “There’s still an investigation about who she is.” His voice was rough. “Who left her. No matter what your cousin said about the profile, Jax is involved somehow. Layla’s mother wouldn’t have left her here with that note. If they’d just agree to hack his damn phone, there are messages. Phone calls. Something that would have to help.”
“Jax isn’t under suspicion for any wrongdoing. There’s no presumption he’s her father. He wasn’t even here when she was left. The phone is a dead issue.” She was simply repeating what the prosecutor had said. Because he, too, had been at the hearing.
Just one big, very unhappy family.
“I need to get Layla’s things over to her.” She swiped her face and pushed away from him. Her throat ached. Her heart ached. She looked up at him. “Are you going to be okay?”
His jaw tightened. “Are you?”
She swiped her cheek again. She picked up the box. “This is my job.”
“It’s more than your job. It’s been more than your job from the second you asked your brother to call the judge.”
“And look what good it’s done.”
He’d opened his heart to a baby girl, only to lose her.
“I’ll pick up my things later.”
“Terry can take care of it.”
She felt like the hole inside her couldn’t yawn any wider.
Without Layla, what purpose did she have there?
Humiliation at seventeen was nothing compared to heartbreak at thirty.
“Fine,” she whispered. She carried the box past him. “Goodbye, Linc.”
* * *
“What’s going on? Somebody die?”
Linc looked up from the bottle of whiskey sitting in front of him. He blinked past the sandpaper in his eyes when the chandelier came on, dousing the gloomy living room in painful light. “Jax?”
His brother dropped his duffel bag on the floor, giving the Christmas tree a surprised look as he walked past it. “What’re you sitting in the dark for?” He strolled closer and picked up the near-empty bottle. “Thought you gave that stuff up after Gram died.”
Yuletide Baby Bargain Page 17
