“OK, we’ll see what we can find.”
But when faced with his choices at the toy store, he wished Maggie had been there to give him advice. Should he buy molded plastic or build one out of lumber? If he went the do-it-yourself route, who would look after little Bee while he worked? And if he purchased one, which was better? One with a cover, or one without? The green turtle, blue fish or pink butterfly?
He wanted to call her on her cellphone and ask, as much to hear the sound of her voice as to hear her opinion, but he didn’t want to abuse the privilege. In the end, out of sheer desperation because Breanna was now tired of the shopping excursion, he bought the turtle because she had toddled over to it and crawled inside.
As the day wore on, he found himself wishing Maggie was there to share in his successes—when Breanna played happily in her new sandbox—as well as his failures—when he couldn’t convince the baby that a nap was the solution for being tired and cranky.
More importantly, he wanted Maggie at his side for more than the purpose of babysitting.
He wanted her there for himself.
He wanted to see the smile on her face and to hear her quiet voice and musical laugh. He wanted to observe her natural grace and appreciate it in ways he couldn’t when they were on duty.
Most of all, he wanted to kiss her again.
Maggie had looked forward to The Great Wedding Dress Hunt for weeks, ever since Trista had gotten engaged. Yet, strangely enough, now that she was actually looking at gowns designed to put a woman in the middle of her own fairy-tale, she wanted to be elsewhere.
With Joe.
She tried to focus on lace and tulle, but his disappointed expression haunted her. She refused to feel guilty for having made plans—these had been made long before Breanna had come into his life—but she still felt as if she were letting Joe down by not being readily available. More than once, she caught herself checking her phone for missed calls. At times she caught herself wanting to phone him for an update, but she always held herself in check. After all, if Joe needed her, he’d contact her, wouldn’t he?
But as the morning wore on and her phone remained uncannily silent, she was torn between wanting him to need her and relief that he obviously didn’t. That would be a good thing, she told herself, because then their relationship could return to strictly professional boundaries.
Yet, deep down, she wasn’t as happy at the notion of returning to those boundaries as she should be. As crazy as it was, as unwise as it was considering his single-parent status, she simply liked being in his company.
Perhaps she should have been worried about Breanna, but she wasn’t. During the short time she’d seen Joe with the little girl, he’d watched over her with the same ferocity as a Templar knight guarding the Holy Grail. No, Breanna was in good hands.
Joe, however, was the one who worried her. She didn’t want his day to be such a traumatic experience that he gave up on his promise to Dee before he gave himself a proper chance to learn his new role.
He might claim he wasn’t father material, but her instincts said otherwise. For reasons he had yet to divulge, he’d simply convinced himself that he didn’t have a paternal bone in his body.
Finally, she couldn’t stand the unknown. After lunch at her favorite seafood restaurant, Maggie punched in Joe’s number, trying not to give any special meaning to its place on her speed dial list.
“Donatelli.”
“It’s Maggie,” she said softly, hoping he normally answered his cellphone in such a crisp manner rather than because he’d endured a difficult morning. “How’s it going?”
“No bumps, bruises or blood, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said gruffly.
She smiled at what was fast becoming his standard refrain. “Any problems?”
Silence greeted her and she pictured him raking his hair with his hand as he did when he was frustrated, which lately seemed to occur on a regular basis. “I guess not.”
A howl in the background made her wince. “What’s wrong?”
She heard his sigh. “She’s tired and cranky. How’s the shopping?”
He sounded impatient and she smiled. “Too many choices and all of them are beautiful.” A crash, followed by another howl, reverberated in her ear.
“What happened?”
His voice was weary. “She just threw her blocks against the wall.”
“Temper tantrum,” she advised wisely. “She’s mad about something.”
“You think?” His sarcasm passed through the air waves loud and clear. “I’d love to chat, but I gotta go before she destroys the place.”
“Do you want me to come home?” she asked.
He paused, as if debating with himself. “No,” he finally said. “We’ll manage.”
“Maybe you could—” Before she finished her sentence with “put her to bed for a nap”, he’d disconnected.
Ignorance really was bliss, she decided as she snapped her own phone closed. If she hadn’t phoned, she could have spent the afternoon imagining the two of them having an uneventful time together. Now that she knew it wasn’t the case, she wanted more than ever to be there.
For the next two hours she patiently endured flipping through what seemed like miles and miles of dress racks. Finally, Trista gazed at her sympathetically.
“Your heart isn’t in this anymore, is it?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie apologized, “but no.”
“It’s Joe, isn’t it?” The speculation on Trista’s face suggested that her friend had seen through Maggie’s forced enthusiasm for the last few hours. Her perception wasn’t surprising—Trista had supported her through some tough times and had patiently listened to the story of Joe and Breanna as well as Maggie’s own fears.
She nodded. “I think he’s having a rough day and won’t admit it.”
“And you want to check on him.”
“Yeah,” she confessed. “I do.”
“Look, Maggie…” Trista began.
Maggie held up her hands. “I know what you’re going to say. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him and his daughter, but I can handle it.”
“Did I say you couldn’t?”
“No, but it’s what you’re thinking.”
Trista’s green-eyed gaze grew intent. “Yours is the only opinion that counts. And as long as you know to be careful, what else can I say except to ask what you are waiting for.”
In spite of her friend’s blessing, Maggie hesitated. “He said he’d manage on his own. He may not appreciate me dropping in unannounced.”
“But you still want to see for yourself, don’t you?”
Maggie sighed. “Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t call it crazy—” Trista said, but before she could finish, Maggie interrupted.
“Besides, today is all about you,” she said firmly. “No one should shop for her wedding dress alone.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve seen all the dresses I want to see,” Trista said lightly. “My feet hurt, and to be honest, they’re all starting to look alike.”
“But we still have a few more stores on your list,” Maggie protested.
“So?” Trista said pragmatically. “We both like those three gowns I found in the first store the best. I say we pay that place another visit.”
Maggie studied her friend for any signs of reluctance and found none. “You’re certain. Absolutely, without a doubt certain this is what you want?”
“Positively. Now, let’s wrap up this day so you can check on your hunky new partner.”
“You’re a star,” Maggie said, hugging her impulsively.
Trista giggled. “I know, but it’s always nice to hear it from my friends.”
It took nearly an hour for Trista to choose the dress of her dreams, another hour to return to Trista’s house where they had met early that morning, and an additional twenty minutes for Maggie to reach Joe’s place. The traffic wasn’t particularly heavy so Maggie used the time t
o devise a game plan. She didn’t want to intrude or imply that she didn’t think he couldn’t handle Breanna, so she’d simply stop, say hello and reassure herself that he was indeed “managing”, then be on her way. She’d be there five or ten minutes. Fifteen minutes, tops.
She parked on the driveway shortly before five o’clock and strolled up the walk, determined to stick to her time schedule. Because she didn’t want to risk waking Breanna in case the little girl was napping, she bypassed the doorbell to knock softly on the frame.
When Joe didn’t answer, she considered going home, but a mixture of concern and curiosity drove her to investigate. Thankful that Joe had shown her the flower-pot where he’d hidden his spare key for emergencies, she went around to the back and let herself inside.
In spite of the mess she encountered, total silence gave the house a deserted air. Dirty breakfast and dinner dishes rested on the counter and filled the sink. Wadded-up paper towels lay on the table as if there’d been a spill at some point. The tray of Breanna’s highchair was still smeared with peas and bits of carrot.
The living room wasn’t much better. Toys lay scattered across the floor. The morning newspaper was ripped to shreds and pieces of it had been flung everywhere. A half-full mug of cold coffee rested on the end table next to the recliner.
She’d expected to find the house with a well-lived-in look, but she certainly hadn’t anticipated the sight of Joe sprawled in the recliner with Breanna tucked under his arm, covered with a fleece lap quilt.
Her heart twisted into a painful knot. If only she had a camera…Seeing him hold the little girl in a protective embrace, especially while he slept, couldn’t have been more convincing evidence that he had more fathering instincts than he credited to himself.
In that instant she knew she was seeing a side of Joe Donatelli that he kept hidden, the side that he denied he possessed. This was the Joe Donatelli that Dee had known, the one Maggie’s instincts had recognized. This was the Joe Donatelli who needed her to give him the confidence he so plainly lacked.
Dee, she was certain, would have wanted that.
Neither of them looked comfortable so, taking a chance, Maggie lifted Breanna out of his embrace. She grumbled, apparently protesting the loss of her human mattress, but didn’t fully awaken. Joe didn’t stir either, so she carried the little girl to her crib, covered her with her baby-sized comforter, then retraced her steps.
Joe hadn’t budged an inch. Neither did he notice when she covered him with the same throw he’d used earlier. Clearly, he was exhausted, and after the busy shift they’d had at the station, he needed this nap as much as Breanna did.
Reassured, she decided it was time to slip out as quietly as she’d entered. Before she’d taken two steps, Joe shifted position, then suddenly bolted upright.
“Breanna?” he asked, his voice rusty.
“She’s in her crib,” she answered softly.
His tension visibly eased as he sank back into the recliner, looking dangerously handsome with his hair spiked in disarray and a dark shadow on his face. “For a second there I thought I’d dropped her.”
“You didn’t. I thought you’d both be more comfortable if she was in her own bed, so I moved her there.”
“Thanks.” Then, apparently gaining more of his wits, he stared at her in surprise. “Maggie?”
“In the flesh,” she said cheerfully. “Trista found what she was looking for sooner than I’d expected—” she purposely glossed over the reason behind their decision “—so we decided to call it a day. I thought I’d check on you and when you didn’t the answer the door, I used your spare key. I hope you don’t mind.”
His suddenly wide smile transformed his face. “No, I don’t. In fact, I’m glad you did.”
Under his appreciative gaze, a frisson of excitement skittered along her spine. “Then you missed me?” she teased.
“More than you know. I was counting the hours until tomorrow morning when I’d see you again.”
Words to warm a woman’s heart…“Rough day?” she commiserated.
A pained expression crossed his face. “We had our moments.”
“You should have told me—” she began.
“I didn’t want to call you away unless we had an emergency, so we muddled through. Fortunately, there were no bumps, bruises or…”
“Or blood,” she finished.
“Exactly.”
“So everything really went well? No crying sprees?”
“No major ones,” he said. “She missed you, though.”
For a woman who’d vowed to remain detached, Joe’s words brought her far more satisfaction than they should have. “Don’t be silly,” she said lightly. “She doesn’t know me well enough.”
“I think you’d be surprised.”
After being on her feet all day, she perched on the sofa’s edge. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that issue. What exactly did you two do to occupy yourselves?”
“Nancy said Breanna liked to play in the sandbox, so we went to the store and bought one. Then we spent the rest of the morning outside getting more sand in our clothes than we left in the box. After that came lunch. By the way, she hates peas.”
Maggie grinned. “I guessed as much.”
“She wanted to go out again after she ate, but it was nap time. I spent most of the afternoon trying to convince her that her droopy eyelids meant she was tired, but she wasn’t buying it. Finally, I realized she wasn’t paying attention to anything I said, so I let her do her own thing while I watched cable news.”
“And once you did, she crawled into your lap.”
He looked surprised. “How did you know? The minute she settled down, she was out. I couldn’t risk waking her, so I caught forty winks of my own.”
“You’re definitely learning the tricks of the trade.”
His disbelief was obvious in his glance. “What I want to know is why is she so docile for you and Nancy, but completely uncooperative when I’m in the picture?”
“She probably senses your own uneasiness and uncertainty and takes advantage of it. It’ll get better, for both of you.”
He didn’t answer. He just stared at her, his gaze intent, his eyes filled with disbelief. “You’re watching too many movies. Most situations don’t have a happy ending.”
“Sometimes we have to make our own.”
“I suppose.” He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “I wish I knew what Dee had been thinking.”
“Do you still believe she made a mistake when she appointed you as Breanna’s guardian?”
“Hell, yes, she made a mistake. A huge one. Even if Breanna is mine, which I sincerely doubt, Dee should have chosen someone else.”
She chose to be practical. “She didn’t, so you’ll have to accept it and move on.”
He pressed his mouth into a hard line. “I heard from my lawyer today. We’re supposed to be at the lab at one o’clock tomorrow for the paternity test.”
She’d hoped he had changed his mind, but he was clearly eager to find an escape clause from Dee’s will. “You’re certain you want to go this route?”
“I need to know the truth, Maggie. One way or another.”
While situations were easier to accept when all questions had been answered, she was more afraid the knowledge could affect his relationship with his daughter for ever.
“Is it really that important?” she asked softly.
“It is to me.”
“The truth is sometimes a mixed blessing,” she said, speaking from her experience with Arthur. She’d been devastated when he’d announced he was leaving town so he could get back together with his childhood sweetheart. While she’d been planning their future, Arthur had been revisiting his past with his ex-girlfriend over the Internet.
“At times,” he agreed, “but it’s the only way I can make sense out of Dee’s decision.”
Somehow she suspected his vehemence was rooted in his own childhood, but his set jaw warned her not to pr
ess that sore spot.
“If you’re that determined, I can’t stop you, but I won’t stand by and let Breanna suffer as a result.”
“She won’t. Now, can we talk about something else?”
They may as well, she thought, aggravated by his thickheaded maleness. On the other hand, she had another weapon in her arsenal…He obviously needed more moral support than she was providing. Perhaps if it came from another direction—from the station crew—he’d feel more optimistic and less inclined to break his promise.
Not that he would, but she didn’t want to risk the possibility.
“By the way,” she tacked on, “Captain Keller told me if there was anything you needed, to let him and the rest of the guys know. In fact, as an FYI, Shep’s daughter is babysitter age, so if you ever want an evening free, I’m sure she’d be happy to watch Breanna.”
“It’s sad to think a fifteen-year-old kid can do a job that I can’t,” he muttered.
“Who said you can’t? You’ve done well so far.”
“Sheer luck.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. My brother felt the same way you did when he brought his first child home. A week later, he was handling Sam like a pro.”
He eyed her carefully. “What makes you certain I’ll do the same? Some men simply aren’t cut out to be fathers.”
“You aren’t one of them,” she said simply. “You’re a man who does what needs to be done, regardless of the situation—a man who’s made rescuing people his life’s work. I’ve only worked with you for a few weeks, but I know how you hate to fail at anything. As far as I’m concerned, Breanna couldn’t have anyone better watching over her.”
“Yet you called and stopped by to check on us.”
“Only out of curiosity,” she defended, unwilling to admit that she’d been too impatient to wait another day to see him again. “One partner looking out for the other.”
Her face warmed with her half-truth and his gaze grew speculative, as if he could tell she wasn’t being completely honest—that in spite of their careers being a temporary stumbling block, she wanted an opportunity to kiss him again.
“Is that all it is?” he asked.
Emergency: Parents Needed Page 8
