The Baby Battle

by Laura Marie Altom

  With a steady rain falling outside and the cabin rumbled by occasional lightning and thunder, he was in the kitchen, washing up and putting away the leftovers from her delicious meal. Glancing over his shoulder, he found her asleep.

  Flynn nestled against her chest, she’d curled onto her side, resting her head on two throw pillows. The storm had left the cabin chilly.

  Turning off the water, he dried his hands on a dishcloth, grabbed a blanket from Olivia’s bed and quietly tucked it about her and Flynn.

  Repositioning, she softly sighed, barely parting her lips.

  Gorgeous lips.

  Bow-shaped shaded in rose.

  The thoughts caught him off guard. She was his son’s mother. Not a woman to appraise or view in any way other than platonic.

  He made a fire, and once it crackled with warmth, he returned to the dishes. The cabin’s quiet was unnerving. Since losing Maria, he’d learned to live with silence. Didn’t like it, but dealt with it. Now, after a few days of conversation and laughter, he realized how much he’d missed the simple pleasure of sharing his daily life. Meals. Musings on an interesting newspaper article. Nothing earth-shattering, but comforts all the same.

  With the kitchen returned to order, Tag found himself at loose ends. Olivia was sleeping soundly, even occasionally snoring. He grinned at the notion that she probably wouldn’t want him witnessing what she’d perceive as a weakness, but he found the chink in her usual defensive armor to be adorable.

  Should he turn out the lights and head back to his cabin?

  Probably, but he couldn’t bear it. Being with Flynn made him whole once again. Being with the infant’s mother was an added bonus.

  After a few minutes’ pacing, he took a book from a ragtag collection shelved on the mantel. Though the story was a bestselling thriller, Tag couldn’t seem to focus. The spy plot didn’t seem half as exciting as the sight of Flynn’s long eyelashes sweeping his chubby cheeks. Or the way every once in a while he’d pucker his plump lips. Had there ever been a more beautiful child?

  If only Maria could see him. But then maybe she could. Tag liked to think a part of her was still with him, smiling down on his good fortune of having a son.

  “Tag?” Her voice raspy with sleep, Olivia stirred. “Mmm…how long was I out?”

  “Just long enough to skip out on doing dishes.”

  She grinned. “I’m good.”

  If she hadn’t looked so damned cute, Tag would’ve pitched his book at her. “Consider yourself fortunate I’m a gentleman.”

  “Oh, I do,” she said, easing upright, being careful not to wake Flynn. “Want to assist me in putting him to bed, and then watch a movie?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Tag helped Olivia off the sofa, then walked with her to the bedroom. “Does Flynn need a bath or anything?”

  “Probably,” Olivia said as she eased their son into his portable crib. “But one night of filth won’t hurt him.”

  “Sure?” Tag asked, genuinely concerned.

  She laughed.

  “What’s funny?”

  “You,” she said, still giggling while covering Flynn. “We’ve got to get you some on-the-job training, or you’ll never make it to Flynn’s five-month birthday.”

  Trailing after her into the living room, he said, “On the job. I like the sound of that. Yeah.” He parked himself on the sofa. “I’m a hands-on kind of guy. So how are we going to make this work? Or are you planning on giving me a crash course over the next few days?”

  “I guess.” She popped a movie into the VCR and wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t thought it out that far.”

  “What’s tonight’s fare?”

  “With Six You Get Eggroll. It was Doris Day’s last movie.”

  Pretending to be enthusiastic, Tag said, “Hmm, sounds good.”

  “It is,” she argued. “Give it a chance. You liked the last one, didn’t you?”

  “If I admit it, does that make me less of a man?”

  The comment earned him a swat. “You’re horrible.”

  He smiled before putting his feet on the coffee table.

  Though he wouldn’t give Olivia the pleasure of hearing it, this movie turned out to be good, too. Not especially cerebral, but entertaining nonetheless. The interesting part was the way two single parents came together to form a new family. It was rough going, but they made it work. Which made him think…“Hey, Olivia?”

  “Yes?” she said as she poured herself a glass of iced tea from the fridge.

  “You know how in the movie Doris Day and Brian Keith were both single, but ended up together?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Excited by his plan, Tag went to her and poured a glass of tea for himself. “What if we tried the same? Not like getting married or anything, but solving our dilemma of how to share Flynn by doing the obvious—living under the same roof?”

  Chapter Eight

  Once Olivia stopped choking on her last sip of tea, she asked, “Are you crazy? That would never work. The movie was Hollywood, Tag. Not real life.”

  “I know that. But what if we could make it work?” He set down his glass, lightly cupping her shoulders. “Think about it. We’d lead our separate lives by day, but by night we’d be roomies who happen to share a baby. Kind of like Will and Grace, only I’m straight.”

  “You watch Will and Grace?”

  “What can I say?” His mouth parted in a slow grin. “The late-night reruns sucked me in and now it’s my guilty pleasure. Anyway, focus. Liv, think about it. It’s a win-win for all three of us. Flynn gets a full-time mom and dad. And since neither of us is looking for anything more than friendship and my house has more than enough room—hell, private wings for each of us—I dare you to come up with one good reason why this isn’t the answer to our every problem.”

  For the longest while, Olivia played out scenarios in her mind. Pros and cons and logistics. While she’d originally shot down Tag’s idea, the more she thought about it, the more sound the plan became. No more sleepless nights, wondering how she’d live through learning to share her son. More shared meals and laughter and quality time spent in the adoration of the infant who meant more to her than she’d ever dreamed possible.

  “You’re quiet,” Tag said. “What’re you thinking?”

  “Honestly?”

  “That’d be much appreciated.” He flashed her a slow, intoxicating smile. Correspondingly, her pulse took off at a gallop.

  Licking her lips, trying to make sense of the fact that Tag’s expression had affected her to such a degree, she forced a deep breath. “Truth? You’re a genius. Yes. Flynn and I will move in with you.”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE we’re going home tomorrow,” Olivia said, trailing her hand in the lake’s clear green water. The weather was cooperating again, with plenty of sun and temperatures in the mid-sixties. Flynn sat in his carrier between her feet while Tag rowed. The lake smelled musky and fishy and alive. With any luck, spring was right around the corner.

  “I can’t believe you’re sitting there like Cleopatra while I manhandle your royal barge.”

  “You’re the one who yelled at me for not having more fun,” she reminded him, tilting her face back to catch more rays. “I don’t know about you, but Flynn and I are quite content.”

  He playfully growled, but then, expression turning thoughtful, he rested his forearms on the ends of the still oars. “What do you think people are going to say?”

  “About what?”

  “Us moving in together. Think it will come as a shock, or will everyone understand that this is the best solution for all involved?”

  The water lapping on the aluminum boat’s hull was hypnotic, making Olivia more relaxed than she’d been in months. “At this point I can’t imagine anyone not supporting our decision. It makes a ton of sense.”

  “I think so,” he said, swatting at a buzzing fly, “but I’m afraid my mom is going to pitch a fit.”

  “Why?” The fly landed
on Flynn, and Olivia shooed it away. “I’d think she’d be happy for us.”

  “I’m thinking she’s going to wonder why we’re not getting married.”

  “Why would we? We hardly know each other.”

  “True, but in many ways Mom reminds me of Eleanor and her ridiculous no-cohabiting signs.” Shaking his head and smiling, he said, “She was born a century too late.”

  “I’ll bet she’s sweet.”

  “Oh, I didn’t say she wasn’t, just that as a grown man, I’m not looking forward to getting a lecture on making an honest woman out of you.”

  Staring across the lake’s glassy surface, Olivia pondered Tag’s latest statement. She wasn’t sure why, but it hadn’t occurred to her that family and friends would disapprove. “Are you really worried about this?” she asked. “Or just hashing it over in your mind?”

  “It’s on a slow simmer. I don’t care what anyone thinks—I mean, it won’t change our plan one way or the other—but it’s always nice to have support.”

  “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR ever-loving mind?” Stephanie had been sitting on the foot of Olivia’s bed, watching her unpack her suitcase, only to put items into a moving box. Now she paced. “You don’t even know this man. He could be some deranged psycho stalker.”

  Arms crossed, Olivia shot her friend a glare. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, couldn’t you at least try being supportive?” Olivia had been home from the resort for two days, and in that time she’d boxed most of her personal belongings. Tag had helped, especially with Flynn’s clothes, toys and bedding.

  Upon hearing the news that Olivia was moving in with her baby’s father, her aunt and uncle, Stephanie and Gabby had all had the same opinion—that Olivia was suddenly a few peaches short of a bushel. The one thing her friends and family didn’t realize was that Olivia had no other choice. Tag’s suggestion that they share Flynn and a home had been so simple, she’d wondered why she hadn’t thought of it first.

  “Honey…” Steph said, softening her tone. She took Olivia’s hands. “When Gabby first told me about this, I didn’t believe her. You’re the rational one. You think everything through and analyze. You don’t move in with a man after knowing him just a couple of weeks—speaking of which, that whole stunt of running off was ludicrous. Gabby and I are ready to lock you up for observation.”

  Though Olivia was warmed by her friend’s concern, it did nothing to change her decision. “While I understand that you’re worried, you have to see where I’m coming from. Steph, can you even imagine what it would’ve been like for Gabby had Ben threatened to take Jack from her?” Ben was not only Gabby’s first love and Jack’s biological father, but Dane’s little brother. Complicated didn’t begin describing their relationship. Lucky for all, Ben now resided in L.A., where he was a regular on an afternoon soap. “And once you’re done with that, think back to me. My threat’s coming from a man I barely even know who has every legal right to tie me and my child up in a custody battle that’d make the Civil War look downright neighborly.”

  “Oh, Liv…” Steph’s voice caught. “You’re doing this out of fear? No, no.” Reaching for her cell, she said, “I’m calling Gabby and Dane. They’ll know what to do to get this guy permanently out of your life.”

  “Stop,” Olivia said, putting her hand over her friend’s phone. She cast Steph a reassuring smile. “You’ve misunderstood. Yes, at first I was afraid of Tag. What he might do. But then I saw him with Flynn and I melted. He loves my baby every bit as much as I do. Do you have any idea what a turn-on that is? Not in a sexual way, but on a deeper level I can’t even begin to describe. He’s a good man. Honorable. Like your Michael.”

  “Now you’re really scaring me. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the guy?”

  Laughing, taking a few of her favorite framed pictures of Flynn from her dresser and putting them in the box, Olivia said, “Of course I haven’t fallen for him—at least, not in the way I assume you mean. We’re friends. You’ll see, once you get to know him, Tag’s a really great man. Compassionate and funny, and whenever he talks about something dear to him, he has this adorable little habit of a muscle ticking in his jaw that I—”

  “You have fallen for him.” Crushing her in a hug, Steph said, “I’m so happy for you. This changes everything. I’ve never really taken you for the love-at-first-sight type, but throw in the right chemistry and voilà!” The hopeless romantic clapped her hands with glee.

  “Whoa.” Olivia crossed her arms and scowled. “You might want to lay off the fairy dust. Tag’s a great guy, and on his way to becoming an amazing father, but that’s it. You know what Phil put me through, and I’m not willing to put myself through that kind of pain again. Besides which, Tag’s a widower. Like you, he’s already had the love of his life, and isn’t the least bit interested in replacing Maria’s legacy.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Steph said, sitting on the bed. “I mean, it’s sad that his wife died, but that doesn’t mean his life has to end. Or yours, for that matter. Michael made me promise I’d give love another try. All I’m saying is maybe you should, too.”

  “You’re impossible.” Olivia closed the flaps on her latest full box. It seemed hard to believe she was leaving the house she loved, but no matter her friend’s opinion, Olivia knew she was doing the right thing.

  Is that why you’re not selling your house? Or even renting it? Because you’re one hundred percent certain that you and Flynn and Tag will live happily ever after?

  Ignoring the worry-wart voice in the back of her head, Olivia further reasoned that there was nothing wrong with having a contingency plan should things not pan out.

  Rising when crying erupted from the baby monitor, Steph said, “I’d rather be impossible than delusional. Mark my words, even if you refuse to admit it, there’s more going on here than simple cohabitation.”

  “HOLY CRAP, WOMAN,” Tag said, collapsing into an armchair. Flynn, cooing and grinning, swatted at the array of toys dangling above his carrier. “You’ve got a lot of stuff.”

  “Looks to me,” she said, tilting her head back to view the vaulted ceiling, “like you’ve got room to hold it. Why’d you ever need so much space?”

  Swigging the tall-neck beer he’d just opened, he shrugged. “Back when I had this place built for Maria, her folks and three sisters and their families were over all the time. I’ve got two brothers and a sister, so they were also over a lot with their broods. Plus, we’d always planned on having our own supersize crew.”

  “Makes sense, then….” She was still looking around with wide-eyed fascination. Tag had always been proud of the home he and Maria had created, but never more so than when it was appreciated by others. It was styled in the flavor of the Palladio-designed Italian villa they’d stayed in on their honeymoon, and though the Pulaski Heights home was only ten years old, it blended in well with the pine-forested lot located on a bluff high above the Arkansas River.

  No expense had been spared, including the hand-chiseled stone exterior, the copper-pointed roof and custom terrazzo floors. And while all of this could have come across as imposing, Maria had worked with an interior designer to ensure the house still felt like a home rather than a museum. Oversize leather couches combined with dark walnut side tables provided the foundation for Maria’s extensive seashell collection and countless books and sumptuously upholstered side chairs.

  “How many rooms are there?” Olivia asked.

  “Thirty—give or take a few.” He shrugged. “Living here on my own, I’ve been tempted to sell a couple of times, but…” His gaze rose to the magnificent portrait of Maria that he’d had commissioned as a gift for her thirtieth birthday. A year later she’d died. Literally hundreds of framed photos were tucked into nooks and crannies all over the house, reminding him of happier times. “I couldn’t bear parting with it—not so much the house, but the memories.”

  “Understood.” Arching her head back, exposing the elegant column of her throat, she said, “The home I shared with Phil was
sweet. I thought about fighting him for custody, but just the opposite of your experience, the home’s good times had been spoiled for me. In the end, all I’d wanted was to run as far from that house and Phil as I could get while still having hot and cold running water and cable TV.”

  Tag laughed. But then, eyeing the sadness behind Olivia’s smile, he sobered. Leaving his armchair to sit alongside her, he took her hand, slowly stroking the top. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “Thanks,” she said, not bothering to hide a sniffle. “My friends think I’m crazy for moving in here.”

  “What do you think?” Her skin was soft. Not quite as smooth as their son’s, but nice to the touch all the same.

  “That depends.” Forcing a smile, she asked, “What are you making for dinner?”

  “Sorry, but it’s looking like frozen pizza.”

  “That’s okay.” She rose. “Do you have a map to help me find my room, or do I get a hunky tour guide?”

  “I can arrange that,” he teased, flexing his arm muscles.

  She made a face. “What I had in mind was more in the Matthew McConaughey range.”

  “Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna play it?” With a playful growl he charged at her, easily scooping her kicking and laughing over his right shoulder while running in the direction of her room.

  “Stop!” she squealed. “What about Flynn?”

  “He looks perfectly content to me.” Tag took the formal winding staircase two steps at a time. “Besides, we’ll never be out of earshot.”

  A minute later Tag dumped Olivia on the king-size bed in the suite he’d picked out for her. Originally designed for Maria’s favorite big sister, it featured soft green walls, a lace-draped canopy bed, plenty of thick Oriental carpets and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the sparkling river hundreds of feet below.

  “Here you go. How was that for service?”

  Rubbing her back, she quipped, “Bumpy.”