by Robin Gianna
And wouldn’t that be wonderful? Darned unlikely, too, since she hadn’t been able to accomplish that the past six months, and even more now that he was standing close by her side, hands in his pockets, looking down at little Will in the NICU bassinet. All too aware of the way his body radiated more warmth than the heat lamp glowing over the baby. Aware of the lines of his handsome profile, of the way his big body made her feel small, which didn’t happen often to a five-foot-nine woman.
She took a side step away from all that so she could breathe and focus. “He looks good,” she said, hoping he knew she was talking about the baby, and not talking to herself about Dr. Sean Latham. “They don’t even have him on oxygen anymore.”
“Yeah. He looks a lot better than he did when you first brought him into the world.”
“Does your mom know?”
“Haven’t been able to reach her. I contacted the cruise line to give her a message to call me, but I’m not sure how they’ll get her home. Might have to wait until the ship docks in a few days.” He turned to her, pinning her with those dark eyes of his. “Tell me about the accident.”
The accident. Last thing she wanted to talk about was that nightmare. But as her gaze met his somber one, she figured he deserved to know at least a few details about how his sister got hurt.
“I’d picked her up from the airport. Maybe you knew she was staying with me until your mother gets back from her cruise?”
“I didn’t know.” And it was clear he was pretty annoyed by that. “But go on.”
“Traffic was heavy. We were driving through an intersection when...when a truck going fast ran the light and crashed into her side of the car.” She closed her eyes and couldn’t go on. How long would the horror of seeing Emma so still in that wreckage stick in Bree’s brain?
Arms wrapped around her, folding her close against a wide chest. The feel of his hand slowly stroking up and down her back was ridiculously comforting. Comfort that had nothing to do with the two of them and their past and their earlier kiss. Comfort that was partly relief that he didn’t blame her the way she’d worried he might. That she didn’t have to blame herself.
“You don’t have to talk about it anymore. I already got the written report. Just wanted to hear your version. Which I knew wouldn’t include how you’d been pinned, too, after the impact pushed your car into one waiting at the light. How you kept insisting you were fine, telling the EMTs to take care of Emma. How they had to open the car up like it was a can of beans to get you out, and that you’re more than lucky you got away with only cuts and bruises.”
“I know. I just wish Emma had been so lucky.” Her voice cracked, and, even though she was trying to be tough and not embarrassingly emotional, she couldn’t seem to keep her head from dropping to his chest like a wilted flower that just didn’t have the strength to stay upright anymore.
His cheek rested against her hair and forehead, and Bree could have stood in the comforting cocoon of his arms, shutting out every concern in the world, forever. She wrapped her own arms tightly around his strong body and clung. The longer the moment lasted, the more she wanted to stay there, warm and safe. Then she managed to remind herself that warm and safe and forever weren’t an option, that she had to work soon, and her body needed rest more than her heart needed Sean.
Maybe if she said it often enough, her foolish heart would finally believe it.
“I’m heading home to get some sleep,” she said, somehow finding the strength to step out of his embrace. “I have to work in just a few hours.”
“Are you crazy? You’ve had a horrible day, you’re all banged up, and have to feel awful. Tell Kurz you’re taking a few days off.”
“I’m trying to get all my hours in now, so I can take off the last couple days to finish packing up before I move.”
A shutter came down over his face. “You know best. Take care of yourself.” He sent little Will a last, lingering look before turning toward the door without another word, only to be stopped by a nurse.
“Dr. Latham. I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “The doctor has given the okay to step your nephew down from the NICU to the nursery floor tomorrow, then release him the following day.”
“Release him?”
“Yes. He’s doing great. No adverse effects from the birth. Perfectly healthy, despite being three weeks early. He’s an awesome little guy, and will definitely be ready to go home.”
“Home?”
The look on Sean’s face would have made Bree laugh if the situation hadn’t been such a shock, and a very big problem. It hadn’t occurred to her to think about where the baby would go when he was given the green light to be released, even though it should have, and obviously hadn’t occurred to Sean, either. Emma would be recovering for a long time, and, even when she was stronger, she wouldn’t be able to care for an infant all by herself. Though her mother would be her rock, Bree knew. The woman who had Emma’s back and supported her no matter what.
Except her mother was on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean at that moment, and who knew when she’d be able to get back?
“Yes, home.” The nurse was looking at Sean as if maybe he was a little dense, but Bree couldn’t blame him for his shocked reaction. With the baby healthy, his focus had turned to the seriousness of Emma’s condition. “I know his mother’s going to be in the hospital quite a while. How about I have the social worker get with you to give you information on day cares that take infants? Though you’ll need a nanny or nursemaid for at least a little while first.”
“Nanny?” His stunned gaze moved to Bree. “Nursemaid?”
Something about the way he was looking at her set off alarm bells in her brain. “No. Oh, no. I have work to do, I’m moving soon, and I don’t know a darn thing about babies.”
“Neither do I.” He reached to grasp her hand. “Which will make us the perfect team.”
She pulled it loose and stepped back. “No, Sean. I can’t. And we already found out we’re about as far from a perfect team as two people can get.”
“Okay, not a perfect team. But you’re a woman good at everything, and I need your help with Will.”
“Having ovaries doesn’t mean I know a thing about babies,” she said, trying to lighten the moment while staying firm on the subject. “Between you and a nanny, I know you’ll do just fine. I have faith in you, Sean.” She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek to show him she meant it, and the feel of his warm skin covered with stubble nearly sent her lips sliding a few inches over to his mouth.
She pulled back, lips still tingling, and turned to practically run out the door. Part of her felt bad abandoning him, but her self-preservation was kicking in. She had to stay away from Sean Latham as much as possible until she was on her way to Honolulu, before her heart got banged up all over again.
CHAPTER THREE
BREE TAPED SHUT the last box of books on her floor, then sat back on her haunches, unable to struggle to her feet at that exact moment. Compared to the day of the accident, she felt reasonably rested as far as sleep was concerned. Getting there hadn’t been too difficult, since any emergency department doc was used to dealing with erratic hours, and days getting mixed up with nights. But the aches and bruises that seemed to have multiplied over every inch of her body, not to mention the relentless headache that stabbed her temples with any abrupt movement, were making it a little tough to get around.
“Okay, Granny, move.” As she pushed to her feet, the doorbell pealed through her apartment. She was expecting the landlord coming with end-of-lease paperwork, and her heart slammed hard into her ribs when she opened the door. No landlord standing there. It was Sean.
Sean, wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt and, astonishingly, holding little Will awkwardly cradled in one arm against his broad chest. An infant car seat rested by his feet.
At le
ast, she assumed the baby was Will, though the little guy was unrecognizable. The tiny knit hat he’d worn at the hospital covered his head down to his eyebrows, and he was swaddled with a blanket up to his lower lip. Then again, there was no denying he was a Latham. The alert brown eyes staring at her from under that hat were already remarkably similar to Sean’s, and she knew at that moment the boy was going to be a heartbreaker just like his uncle.
Her hand tightened on the doorknob as she watched Sean slowly slip his sunglasses from his eyes to tuck them inside the collar of his T. Eyes that were looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite figure out.
What was he doing here? Showing off his nephew before she left? Maybe his real goal was to show her how cute babies were, as if she didn’t already know. But cuteness didn’t have anything to do with not wanting any of her own. Not wanting a child to consume her life, whether Sean believed that wasn’t the way it had to be or not.
“Sorry,” she said. “This is a no-stork zone.”
“I don’t see any signs posted.”
“Maybe they got blown down in yesterday’s windstorm.” She folded her arms across her chest to show him he wasn’t making himself and the baby comfy. The uncomfortable comfiness—could there be such a thing?—that she and Sean had shared two days ago in the hospital had been more than she could handle already. “What can I do for you?”
Impassive brown eyes met hers for several heartbeats until he finally answered. “Help me take care of His Willieness until Mom gets here.”
“I can’t.” Hadn’t she already emphatically told him that at the hospital, and the three times he’d called her after? “I’ve got work. And, again, I don’t know anything about taking care of babies.”
“You know as much about babies as I do.”
“Which means neither of us is qualified. Hire one of the nannies on the list you got.”
“When I finally got hold of her, my mother had a fit when I told her I was going to do that. Couldn’t believe I’d trust some stranger with her newborn grandson. She’ll be here in a few days, and told me in no uncertain terms he was my responsibility until she could take over.”
“So take time off from work until she gets here.”
“Please, Bree. Just for a couple days. We can figure out what we have to do with him together, then take shifts when the other’s working.” The entreaty in his eyes, not to mention a slight terror, started to melt her resolve, and she tried desperately to firm it back up again. “Emma needs you. Will needs you.” He reached for her hand, brought it up to press her palm against his chest. “I need you.”
He’d spoken the last words in the dangerously soft rumble he used to use when they’d made love, and the sound of it made her quiver, in spite of everything. Like the fact that he’d used that same voice when he’d proposed, and look what a disaster that had turned out to be.
But that was irrelevant history to this current situation. And darn it, how could she say no? It was a crisis situation, and she was partly responsible for that.
She stared into his beautiful, worried brown eyes. Feeling backed into a corner and a little apprehensive about taking on Will’s care, along with being too close to Sean when her heart was far from healed, weren’t good enough reasons to refuse again. She owed it to Emma to help any way she could, and it would only be for a short time, after all.
Her lips parted to reluctantly agree. Then almost didn’t when she saw the slight smile forming on Sean’s lips, the gleam in his eyes, before she’d even said a word. A smile and gleam that showed he knew he’d won and was feeling darned smug about it. If he hadn’t been holding the baby curled in his arm, she just might have shut the door in his overconfident face. “Fine,” she huffed out. “Just for a day or two. So how is this going to work?”
“The baby store helped me with everything he needs, and delivered it this morning. Pack an overnight bag, then come home with me now and we’ll figure it out.”
“Come home with you?” What in the world? “No. I’ll give you my hospital schedule, and watch him here when I’m off.”
“Won’t work. Do you have any idea how much stuff a baby needs? My house is overrun with it all.”
“Sean, listen. Helping is one thing but—”
Will’s sudden, insistent crying split the air and interrupted her alarmed protest. They both looked at his reddening face before slowly turning to each other. Sean’s expression made her laugh out loud, even though hers probably looked exactly the same. “You’re looking at him like he’s an angry alien who just materialized in your arm.”
“What, and you’re not? And tell me how lungs so little can cry that loud?”
“It’s all biology and mechanics. He wants something, and his vocal cords are designed to get attention, of course.”
“Wants something.” Sean’s brows knit into a deep frown. “Which means he’s either hungry or needs changing, probably, and I left all his stuff at home.”
“You didn’t bring any food or diapers with you?”
“No, I didn’t, and there’s no need to look at me like I’m a dunce, okay? I’m new at this.”
She wanted to laugh again, truly enjoying the sight of ultra-confident, always-in-control Sean Latham completely out of his element. Not that she’d do any better when it was her turn. “You should get home, then, so you can—”
Sean’s phone rang, and he fished it from his pocket. “Oh, no,” he muttered before answering.
It didn’t take long for Bree to realize it was a hospital emergency, and Sean was being called in to do surgery. “You didn’t tell them you couldn’t be on call today while you were figuring everything out with Will?” she asked in disbelief when the call ended.
“The hospital pediatrician told me she was releasing Will and just kind of handed him over. So I took him, then came here and...well, you know.” He gave her what he probably thought was an adorable little twisted smile, and at one time she would have thought it was beyond adorable, but not anymore. She was immune to his charms.
Almost immune. Working on becoming fully immune.
“I’m really sorry, but I’ll get home as soon as I can.” He shoved the still-crying baby at her and she instinctively took him before she’d even realized what she was doing.
“What? Sean, you cannot leave him with me! I don’t even know why he’s crying, and since you weren’t smart enough to have his stuff with you—”
“Sweetheart, you’re a superstar at everything you do.” He flashed the dazzling smile that used to stop her heart. “There’s not a soul on earth I’d feel better about leaving Will with than you. I’ll see you at my house as soon as I can.”
“But, Sean...” The words came out in a high-pitched gasp, and her mouth fell open as he threw something next to the infant seat on the porch, jogged to his car and took off. She looked down to see what he’d thrown was a key. A key she knew unlocked his front door, because it was attached to a surfboard key ring she recognized as the one he’d given to her long ago. The key she’d wanted to stuff down his throat six months ago, but instead had politely—and, yes, angrily and painfully—placed in his mailbox.
She stared down into Will’s scrunched-up, squalling little face. “Just so you know, I’ll be killing your uncle later. But I guess for now you’re stuck with me.”
His wide, teary eyes stared at her for a moment before the wailing began again, as though he knew exactly how unprepared she was for this task. A sensation close to panic filled her chest, and it was ridiculous enough to make her laugh at herself. She tucked him close, knelt to get the stupid key, then stood and squared her shoulders. Hadn’t she always said life should be one big challenge and adventure?
This challenge might weigh only six pounds and be a mere nineteen inches long, but she had a feeling it just might be the most intimidating thing she’d ever had to
face.
* * *
The sight of Bree’s car in his driveway did something strange to Sean’s insides. Sent his thoughts to days when she’d surprised him by showing up after work, when seeing it there had brought a smile to his face and a surge of happiness to his heart. Sent the familiar stab of pain and sorrow over her absence the past six months. And all those emotions were tangled up with the stress of Emma’s condition. The worry of how he’d manage to take care of his nephew, and how being with Bree now through necessity made him feel all kinds of jumbled, polar-opposite things.
Anxious, appreciative, relieved, angry. Pretty much every emotion in the book, covering their past, her near-death accident, her toughness afterward, and how she was stepping up now to help with Will, which he’d known she would, despite trying to get ready for her move, and her feelings about having her own kids.
And twisted emotions about their present, brief as it would be. Being with her the next couple of days was going to be bittersweet. While he knew it would be difficult and painful, some perverse, masochistic part of him badly wanted just a few more hours with the woman who’d broken his pitiful heart.
The second he pushed open the side door that led to his kitchen, the sound that hit him proved his nephew’s lungs were still in tip-top shape. Sean winced and shoved down all the emotions roiling around his chest, feeling bad for poor Bree. But misery loved company, so she’d be glad to see he was home, right? When maybe she wouldn’t have been otherwise? Thankfully the patient’s surgery he’d had to take care of had gone smoothly, so he was able to get back fairly fast, but he had a bad feeling it might not have seemed so quick to Bree.
“Hey, I’m home,” he called. It struck him how many times he’d said that to her. That from the moment he’d met her, wherever she was, in this house or somewhere else, that was where it felt as if he belonged. He’d believed he’d belong there forever. As he’d slowly gotten used to not having her around, he’d forgotten about it, mostly, until she was here again. Bringing the special energy and light that was Bree Donovan back into his life. But she’d be out of it again in just days or even hours, and he stopped to gather himself for a second. He blew out a long breath, then moved through his back hallway, trying to keep his voice cheerful and upbeat, as though he weren’t feeling a chaos of emotion in his chest. Hadn’t heard the literal sounds of chaos within the house. “How are things going?”
