Yuletide Baby Bargain

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  Linc shot off his chair, grabbing his brother by his jacket. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Christ, Linc! What’s—”

  Linc shoved him. Hard. It was either that, or punch the hell out of him.

  Jax landed in the leather chair behind him with a whoosh. He swore loudly and started to pop back up.

  Linc lifted a warning hand. “Do. Not. Move.”

  Jax warily spread his palms in surrender and sat back in the chair. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Not anywhere near enough.” Not enough to get Maddie’s face out of his head. It had been four days since she’d carried that box out of his home and turned the place back into just a house. “You should have told me about Layla.”

  Jax’s eyes narrowed. Unlike Linc’s, they were blue. Very blue against his tanned face. “Layla.” He waited a beat. “Afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific.”

  Linc yanked the copy of the note he’d made out of his pocket. The edges where he’d folded it were creased and creased again from the number of times he’d studied it. He tossed it at his brother’s head. “Layla.”

  “Eat some prunes, brother.” Jax unfolded the note, but the words on it clearly made no impression. “So I ask again, who is Layla?”

  Linc’s ears buzzed. Maybe he was just going to have a stroke. He’d leave Swift Oil to his brother, who’d either run it into the ground or not.

  He rubbed his eyes with his palms, then dropped his hands. “Where have you been?”

  Jax looked away. “Turks and Caicos.”

  “With Dana?”

  His brother hesitated.

  “She’s going to ruin you one day,” Linc said, sighing.

  “Like she ruined you?”

  “She’s not the one who ruined me,” he countered. “You should have just told me you were going. Or at least taken your damn phone.” He picked up the note. “Someone left this for you.”

  “Who?”

  “If I knew,” Linc said through his teeth, “I wouldn’t have cared where you were. Or how long you’d be.”

  “Man, you have lost your nut.” Jax looked over at the tree. “What’s with the whole merry, merry thing, anyway?”

  “You’d lose your nut, too, if someone left a baby on your doorstep with just a note attached!”

  Jax gaped. “What are you talking about?”

  “Layla,” Linc said. “The infant who was dumped on our doorstep two weeks ago. With that note to Jaxie attached!”

  His brother shot out of his chair, finally looking alarmed. “Well, she wasn’t mine.”

  “I know that. Now.” Linc sat, exhausted. It was his turn to watch his brother pace around the room for a while. “The DNA they did on us proved that.”

  “So what happened to the kid?”

  “That kid has a name. Layla.”

  “Fine. What happened to Layla?”

  He rubbed at the pain in his chest. It was worse than the ulcer had ever been. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone.” His brother turned pale. “Dead?”

  “No!”

  “Jesus Christ, Linc.” Jax sat down, too. “Stop freaking me out!”

  “She’s with a foster family. And since you’re not her father, we don’t know who she is.”

  “Or where she belongs, I’m guessing,” Jax murmured slowly.

  “I know where she belongs.” Linc closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Maddie’s face swam behind his lids. Maddie laughing. Maddie crying. Maddie watching him through her lashes while she pulled him into her—

  “Look, Linc.” Jax picked up the copy of the note. “It’s taken me more than twelve hours to get home. And following you is more than I can deal with. Why don’t you start from the beginning.”

  So Linc did.

  When he was finished, Jax silently reached for the bottle of whiskey. He didn’t bother with a glass, just took a shot straight from the bottle. “Damn.”

  “All we have is that note.”

  His brother spread it over his thigh. “‘Jaxie, please take care of Layla for me.’” The toe of his hiking boot bounced. “Jaxie. Nobody calls me that. ’Cept—” He made a face.

  Linc almost grabbed Jax by the throat again. “Except?”

  “Hold on. It’ll come to me. She had a stripper name.” Jax tapped his fingers against his forehead. Then he stopped and looked at Linc. “Miranda,” he said. “Daisy Miranda. Waitressed for me,” he frowned again, “for a few months. Over a year ago. She wasn’t pregnant. Never said it, anyway. And damn sure didn’t look it. But she did call me Jaxie.”

  Linc stood and pulled his brother out of his chair. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “Magic Jax. You keep records of your employees, don’t you?”

  “Since my business partner frowns on it if I don’t—” Jax rolled his eyes when Linc glared. “Yes, I keep records.”

  “Then we’re going to get every piece of information you’ve got about Daisy Miranda and give it to Maddie. She’ll know what to do with it.”

  “And have Daisy arrested for abandoning her kid?”

  “Maybe. But at least Layla can’t get adopted by somebody else before they have a chance to even find her real mother.”

  “Yeah, but why Maddie?”

  Linc glared.

  His brother lifted his hands. “Dude. Relax. It’s like that, is it?”

  “Yeah.” He grabbed his coat and yanked open the door. “It’s like that.”

  “What d’you know.” Jax followed him out into the evening. “She always was a sweetheart.”

  Linc stopped in his tracks. “If you so much as look at her, I’ll—”

  Jax lifted his hands. “Not ever. Not again.”

  Linc unlocked his jaw. Dana was one thing. Maddie another. And he didn’t want to have to kill his own brother.

  “Just gotta say,” Jax grinned a little crookedly. “It is good to know you’ve still got a heart.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I don’t think I’ve seen a longer face in all of my life.” Vivian, dressed in shimmering silver, held a glass of amber liquid out to Maddie.

  Maddie had no more interest in alcohol than she did in being at her grandmother’s fancy Christmas party. But she tucked her phone behind her and took the glass anyway. One sip and her throat was on fire. It might have felt a little less potent if she’d spent more time eating something of substance versus pointlessly staring at the photo she’d taken of Linc and Layla. “I didn’t think anyone would notice I slipped out. I certainly don’t want to take you away from your own party.”

  She was sitting in Vivian’s sunroom. Conservatory, as her grandmother insisted on calling it. Whatever. It was a window-lined room filled with exotic plants that had no business whatsoever flourishing in the middle of a Wyoming winter. But thanks to her grandmother’s fancy lighting and the air she probably had bottled and flown in from the tropics, they did. And the silent plants were better companions than the guests who were filling the two-story atrium at the center of Vivian’s enormous house.

  If Maddie could have blocked out the sounds of the Christmas music being played by a trio that her eccentric grandmother had hired out of Phoenix, of all places, she’d have been even happier in her misery.

  “I notice lots of things,” Vivian said. “And since it is my party, I get to do as I please.” She sipped at the other glass she’d been carrying as she arranged herself on one of the padded metal settees that dotted the conservatory. “Not that I need a party to do as I please,” she added wryly.

  Maddie smiled, as Vivian clearly meant her to do. She took another sip of the burning whiskey.

  It made her think of Linc.

  Putting down the glass wouldn�
��t matter, though.

  Not when everything made her think of Linc.

  “I had an interesting lunch the other day,” Vivian said. “With Horvald Stokes.”

  Maddie quickly set down the glass before she dropped it. “What? Why?”

  “I wanted to see if he had a price.”

  “Vivian!” Maddie shoved out of her chair, nearly tripping over the long blue dress that she’d borrowed from Hayley. She’d heard time and again from her dad about his mother’s manipulative nature, but had never seen it in action. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Calm down.” Her grandmother picked up Maddie’s glass and handed it to her once more.

  “I won’t calm down.” Agitated, she snatched the glass and tossed back the contents, then had to lean over as she coughed through the pain of it. “What...possessed...you?” Her stomach churned.

  Vivian leisurely sat back against the settee. “He doesn’t,” she said. “Have a price, that is. I quite liked that about him, actually.”

  “Judge Stokes is happily married, Vivian. Don’t be looking for a fifth husband there.”

  Her grandmother chuckled softly. “I have no desire for a fifth. I’m quite content knowing I had the best in Arthur. And very aware that he could have done so much better than me.” She sobered. “Sadly, I can’t help you or your Lincoln where the baby is concerned. But I wanted to.”

  Maddie’s eyes stung. “He’s not my Lincoln. And Layla—”

  “Isn’t anyone’s.” Vivian sighed. “Heartbreaking, really.”

  Maddie pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m really not up to doing this,” she whispered.

  “Your mother seems to think you’re in love with him.”

  The musical trio was singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” The same song that had been playing when she and Layla had visited Linc at his office. Her chest ached even more. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Vivian tsked. “Of course it matters.”

  “He doesn’t love me, Vivian. He only proposed because—”

  “Proposed!” Vivian sat forward, like a cat pouncing.

  “Don’t get excited. It was only because he thought it would improve his chances of keeping Layla. I promise you, I set him straight.” She was nauseated just thinking about it. Or maybe it was the whiskey on an empty stomach.

  “Did you now.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I once thought I set Arthur straight. He brought me around to his thinking, of course. But I wish that I’d never wasted all that time that we could have spent together before he did. We had little enough of it together in the end.”

  “This is not the same situation, Vivian. I turned him down.” Four times. Four times, she’d turned him down. “Linc’s not the kind of man to get over that.”

  “Of course not, dear. No doubt, he is the most unforgiving soul there ever was.” She held out her hand. “Help me up. I’m neglecting my other guests.”

  Maddie quickly took her arm and helped her rise, even though she had the strong sense that Vivian needed no assistance whatsoever. “He’s not unforgiving,” she muttered.

  “Whatever you say, dear.” Vivian patted her cheek. “When you’re tired of drinking among the palms, come back out and join us.”

  Then she gathered her shimmering dress and swept out of the room.

  Maddie exhaled. She had nothing left to drink among the palms. She followed her grandmother.

  The tree in the center of the atrium was taller than the one she and Linc had cut. More slender and more perfectly manicured.

  She stopped in front of it, looking up at all the crystal and gold. But in her mind, she was seeing one with faded nutcrackers and a lopsided star.

  “You were right. It’s an art piece.”

  Maddie jerked, whirling around. “Linc.” He was looking very un-Linc-like. His eyes were bloodshot. His hair fell over the lines in his forehead. His jeans looked ancient and his shirt was wrinkled.

  And he still was the best sight in the room.

  “Does Vivian know you’re here?”

  “Yeah. I saw her a few minutes ago. Didn’t seem to mind me crashing too much.”

  Behind him, she saw her grandmother smiling as she crossed the room. “I’ll bet she didn’t.” She crossed her arms over the front of her low-cut dress that she didn’t fill out anywhere as well as Hayley and turned to face the tree again. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jax is back.”

  Her jaw loosened. She dropped her arms and turned toward him. The lights around them danced dizzily. “What?”

  “He knows who wrote the note.”

  It was as though his voice was suddenly coming through a tunnel. She blinked. “Layla’s note.” Of course he meant Layla’s note. What other note was there?

  His hands closed around her shoulders. “Are you all right? You look like you’re—”

  “—fine,” she cut him off, shrugging away from his touch. She bumped the tree behind her, and crystal and gold shimmered and tinkled. “I am...fu-hine.”

  And to prove it, her eyes rolled and she pitched forward, straight into his arms.

  * * *

  “Well.” Linc sat on the edge of the couch where he’d deposited her. “I guess we know who gets to be the fireworks at your grandmother’s party this year.” He handed her a glass. “Water.”

  Maddie peered at him. Her mouth felt like cotton. She took the water and drained it. She didn’t recognize the room. Nor could she hear the Christmas trio anymore. Between knocking into the tree and realizing he was carrying her into this room, everything was blank. “Please tell me I didn’t yack on Vivian’s marble floor or something.”

  “It was a pretty straightforward passing out, actually.” His fingers grazed her hand and he stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He walked over to the door and she could hear him talking to someone, though his voice was too low to tell what he said.

  She pressed her arm over her eyes. “Top of your game, Maude,” she murmured.

  After a moment, he returned and sat back down on the edge of the couch, his hip crowding her thighs. “Nice dress.”

  She self-consciously tugged the bodice. “It’s Hayley’s. No time to alter it. Who was at the door?”

  “Your mom. She knows you’re okay.”

  Maddie could only imagine.

  Mrs. Lincoln Swift.

  She struggled awkwardly to sit. Considering her long skirt was caught under him, it was an effort in futility. She gave up and stared at him. “You said Jax is back. He knows who wrote the note.”

  “A cocktail waitress. Worked for him for a short time over a year ago. Daisy Miranda.”

  The name meant nothing to her. “Layla Miranda,” she murmured. She suddenly pushed at him again. “Let me up. I need to get in touch with Ray. And Judge Stokes. And the Prosecutor’s Office.”

  His hands pushed her back down. “All of that is being done. Ali. Greer. Archer. They’re all doing their part.”

  She subsided. “This is good news, Linc, but—”

  “I know. It doesn’t mean anything changes where Layla and you and I are concerned.”

  Her eyes stung. “I wish I could have made everything work out. For everyone.”

  “You can’t fix everything.”

  “If there’s a chance of locating Daisy, Judge Stokes will hold off placing her for adoption as long as he can. Which means she’ll need more long-term foster care than we planned. And it’s not unheard of for people to end up adopting a child they’ve fostered. Stokes has never approved it, but. I... I can at least help you get qualified as a foster parent. Prove to Judge Stokes that you are the best one for Layla even if you aren’t married. I mean, it’s an old-fashioned notion and it’s high time he—”


  He pressed his hand over her lips.

  “—started realizing it,” she mumbled, too far gone to stop.

  “You can’t fix everything,” he repeated softly.

  “I know, but—”

  “But you can fix me.”

  She stared at him above his big, warm hand.

  “I know I’m nowhere near good enough for you, Maddie Templeton. But I’ll do my damnedest to try. Just say you’ll marry me.” He cautiously pulled his hand away.

  Her heart charged inside her chest. “Layla—”

  “This isn’t about Layla. I want her in our life. And we’ll figure out how to make that happen. But this is about me. And you. And the fact that my house hasn’t been the same since the day you left it.”

  “You don’t love me,” she whispered. “You can’t possibly.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Because I don’t have parents who’re still besotted with each other to have shown me how?”

  “No! You’re so much better than that. You’re good and you care so much about doing what’s right—”

  He covered her mouth again. But this time, with just his thumb. “—and I love you.” His thumb glided along her lip, then made way for his kiss. “Just tell me there’s a chance you could love me back,” he whispered. “And I’ll be happy to break Gus’s record every day of the week until you say yes.”

  She stared up at him, her eyes searching. She wanted so desperately to believe. “I loved you when I was seventeen.” She shakily touched his cheek, brushed his tumbled hair back from his eyes. “I never knew how much I could love you now.”

  “What are you saying?”

  It was the hope that got her. It lit his hazel eyes. It heated her through to her soul. She didn’t need to be at the top of her game with him.

  She just needed to be. With him.

  “I’m saying five times is enough, Lincoln Swift.” She lifted her mouth to his. “I’m saying yes.”

  * * *

  Maddie stole a glance over her shoulder before leaning her head closer to Linc. “Stop fidgeting,” she whispered.

  He stretched his arm along the crowded church pew behind her and leaned his head closer to hers. “This is the longest Christmas Eve service in the history of time.”