by Dani Wade
When she returned, she had a vulnerable look on her face and wore soft, comfy clothes, which inspired him to hold her close. Then he remembered the reason he was here had nothing to do with their previous closeness, and locked his knees just in time. But he wanted to—boy, did he want to—with an ache that dug into his gut.
“Promise me you’ll come get me if he needs me,” she said.
He met her worried gaze, shadowed with fear and exhaustion. “I promise if we need you, I won’t hesitate. Now rest.”
She crawled into the side of the bed he knew she preferred, and snuggled beneath the dusky-purple comforter that had kept their body heat cocooned so many nights before. He swallowed, his body and his mind wishing he could join her just one more time.
Then he turned away, closing the door behind him. Returning to the living room, he gazed down at his son, praying he could live up to his words.
“It’s just you and me, kid,” he said. “I told your mom I could handle this. Don’t make a liar out of me, okay?”
* * *
KC shot straight up in bed, her heart racing as if she’d just run a marathon. What was wrong? Something was off. What—
Carter!
Barely noticing the dark outside the windows, she rushed down the hallway. Only as she skidded to a stop in the living room did she notice the most telling clue to her long sleep—silence. A single soft lamp kept the lighting dim. Jacob sprawled in her comfy chair, his legs splayed before him, his big body overflowing the space. But it was the baby sleeping on his bare chest that made the breath catch in her throat.
She stepped closer, noting the natural flush of Carter’s chubby cheeks. The red of his earlier fever was gone. Jacob had changed him into a baby gown. As her hand rested on Carter’s upturned cheek, she didn’t detect any fever. His sleeping face was turned up to his daddy’s; his arm spread across Jacob’s chest with his fingers curled into the light sprinkling of hair.
She couldn’t resist the temptation. Certain that Jacob was asleep, she let her eyes wander over the muscled pecs that were usually hidden beneath his button-down dress shirts. He’d discarded his belt along with his shirt, but he still had on his navy dress pants, creating a dark contrast against his lightly tanned skin and Carter’s creamy-yellow gown. Jacob’s feet were now bare, prompting KC to smile. She’d learned that the one primitive habit Jacob had was stripping off his shoes and socks the minute he was behind closed doors. Unfortunately, his long, lean feet were as sexy as the rest of him.
A sudden wave of emotion hit her. Dreams from her pregnancy flashed through her mind. Dreams of a real family, of Jacob being with them, being devoted to them. Two days into his challenge, and already her fears of him abandoning Carter were dissolving like sugar in water. Which only opened up a new set of fears—after all, children were forever. Romantic partners were a whole lot more disposable. History had taught her that long before she knew what romance meant.
Yet one long look at the surprisingly sexy picture of her ex-lover and her son tempted her to forget her worries and take the plunge. Then she noticed Carter’s lips pucker as if searching for a bottle. His little body squirmed. A feeding was about to be on the agenda. Her heart melted as Jacob’s hand came up; he patted the baby’s back without opening his eyes. Bittersweet as it was, the picture before her assured her Jacob wanted to be a part of Carter’s life. He’d be a good dad, even if he wouldn’t let himself be husband material.
Slowly Jacob’s hand moved up to lightly brush Carter’s forehead, a move KC recognized as her own in checking Carter’s temperature. She smiled, then looked up to meet Jacob’s unexpectedly open eyes. For a moment she froze, held by the intensity of the emotions swirling there.
Anxious to hide her own feelings as her awareness of him soared, she mouthed, “When did he eat?”
With barely a jiggle, Jacob reached for his phone and checked the time. “A little over four hours ago,” he whispered.
Suddenly eager to get away, she hurried back into the kitchen. An open laptop caught her attention. The geometric shapes of the screen saver floated back and forth. She shouldn’t look, wasn’t even sure why she wanted to, but she couldn’t resist. A single swipe of her finger across the touch pad and the screen cleared.
Her heart contracted. Jacob had appeared confident and ready for the challenge of being left with Carter as he’d bullied her into bed. But the internet search on the screen suggested otherwise. How to soothe a crying baby. Bless his bachelor heart.
Well, whatever he’d found, it worked. She hadn’t heard Carter all night. The clock now said 3:00 a.m. About time for Carter’s middle-of-the-night feeding, if he was still on his usual schedule.
No wonder she’d felt dazed. She hadn’t slept eight hours straight since Carter had been born. Of course, she’d have slept like a baby on that chest, too.
She’d just gotten the bottle heated when Carter woke in earnest. While she settled down in a kitchen chair to feed him, Jacob headed to the fridge. With his back turned, she didn’t have to avert her eyes from the long line of his spine or the subtle ripple of muscle as he moved. The upper edge of a tattoo peeked from the waistband of his pants. Discovering that yin-yang symbol, which he’d attributed to his connection with his twin brother, had been quite a shock. A sexy shock. Conservative businessman Jacob hadn’t struck her as the tattoo type.
Turning her thoughts from the ways she’d shown Jacob her appreciation of his body art, she tried to focus on the present. When it came to cooking, Jacob had only one specialty: omelets. She’d imagined him as having nothing more than eggs and cheese in his apartment refrigerator back in Philadelphia. She hadn’t been far from right. Now he pulled out all the ingredients and arranged them on the counter.
“Why are you cooking at 3:00 a.m.?” she asked, even as the smell of bacon browning in the pan made her stomach growl.
And why couldn’t the man put a shirt on? Hunger hit her hard, in more ways than one. Amazing how a full night’s sleep could make her feel like a new woman.
“No point in me going back to sleep,” Jacob said. “I have to be at the mill early for a management meeting. Might as well feed us before I get ready.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded absently, continuing to crack eggs into a bowl.
“Jake,” she said, her husky voice catching his attention. “I mean it. Thank you for your help.”
His gaze held hers, and awareness shivered across her skin. Then, in that wicked tone of voice she’d only heard when he was lost in the depths of arousal, he said, “My pleasure.”
If she hadn’t been awake before, she sure was now. Relief that Carter felt better distracted her from the temptation of the half-dressed man cooking in her kitchen. Having gotten a good sleep himself, Carter was ready to socialize. For once, his eyes weren’t only for mama. The occasional noise drew his gaze across the room, searching for the man who had bonded with him during the long hours of the night.
That was what she’d wanted. Wasn’t it?
The question haunted her as she ate. Finally, KC ran a hand across her son’s sticky curls. At some point during the night, he’d sweat, then it had dried, leaving his hair thickened and clumpy. “Since we’re awake, I think it’s time for a bath, sweetie.”
Jacob watched as she readied the sink, setting up the baby bath and starting the water. “What’s that?” he asked.
“It just makes it easier to give them a bath when they’re this little and you can’t safely put them in the tub.”
She deftly got Carter stripped and settled. He immediately started to pat at the water and kick his little legs. Standing next to the sink, she let him play for a few minutes.
“Wow, someone’s feeling better,” Jacob said.
She smiled in his direction, trying to regain control over the seesaw of her emotions. Sharing moments like this
with Jake was both a blessing and a curse. It was necessary to establish the relationship she wanted him to have with Carter, but a poor substitute for what she really wanted—for them to be a family.
“He loves me to give him a bath,” she said, adjusting the water so she could wet a washcloth.
With just a couple of steps Jacob closed in, his heat blanketing her side as he spoke softly in her ear. “If I remember correctly, so do I.”
His words sparked images in her brain: Jacob undressing her, leading her into the shower, bodies soapy and slick. She shook her head before the temptation could pull her under. Without missing a beat, she pointed the spray nozzle in Jacob’s direction, the water catching him by surprise.
“Down, boy,” she warned as satisfaction spread through her, along with laughter at his yelp.
A few feet away, Jacob froze, his eyes wide. Her little joke just made the temptation worse. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from the river of droplets chasing down Jake’s bare skin. As if he could read her mind, Jacob chased one rivulet down his chest with his thumb.
“Well, then,” he said, his gaze zeroing in on her smile. “If I’d known you wanted me all wet...”
Her heart skipped a beat. Please don’t go there. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist.
“I think I’ll take a shower now, too,” he finally finished.
She knew better than to open her mouth, because anything she said would be provocative, not productive. She focused on soaping Carter down, but Jacob didn’t leave. Finally, she asked, “What time do you have to be at work?”
“I’ve got to call Bateman to find out exactly when he wants to get started. I left yesterday before he knew, and I wanted to see you—check on you and Carter. I told him I’d be in touch later.”
Yes, but did you tell him why? Or were she and Carter still the best-kept secret in Black Hills?
Eight
Jacob had faced down corporate sharks who worried him less than KC’s grandmother. Not because of size or strength, but the sheer tenacity with which she held on to her dislike of him.
She was like a Chihuahua, pint-size with sharp teeth, and determined to hold him accountable for missing some standard that he didn’t quite understand. When KC insisted he call her Nana, because that was what everyone called her, he simply couldn’t picture it.
And KC’s mother—well, she had gone back from angry to afraid. The family gathered every Sunday for an early supper. Twenty-four/seven meant Jacob had tagged along. Every time he reached for Carter, Ms. Gatlin flinched as if he would whisk the baby away, with no thought to how it would affect anyone but him.
He refused to let their reactions stop him from holding his son, something he’d gotten much more comfortable with over the past week of nightly baths, diaper changes and bottle feedings. At first, KC had tried to edge him out, but he’d soon shown her that he wasn’t one of those men who wanted to hand everything over to the little woman. If she’d let him, he’d have been with her every step of the way—pregnancy, labor and delivery. Despite the successful night he’d spent with Carter when he’d gotten sick, Jacob hadn’t gotten her to the point where she’d let him care for Carter unsupervised, but they’d get there.
One way or another.
He’d insinuated himself into KC’s and Carter’s lives with a seamlessness that surprised even him. Still, they were living their lives as if they were skimming the surface of a deep lake, and Jacob was surprised to find himself dissatisfied. Something momentous called to him from the depths, but he still hesitated to dip his head beneath the calm to find the answers.
Although he’d sure appreciate not sleeping on the couch, which he had a feeling KC found secretly amusing.
As they settled down to a casual but hearty meal dished up straight from the stove, Jacob was grateful for Zachary. Another man helped bridge the estrogen river in the room. Too many women, not enough excuses. A little work talk helped create balance, though by unspoken agreement they kept themselves on general topics. Before they left, though, Jacob would need to talk to Zachary about a little industrial-reconnaissance mission. Fingers crossed he’d come on board.
Jacob had feared the timing of this meal, and sure enough, Carter started to whimper. Not a full-blown cry. His afternoon nap was the hardest to get him settled for—most other times he slid into sleep with ease. Something for which Jacob, inexperienced as he was, thanked his lucky stars.
When rocking the baby seat with her foot no longer worked, KC abandoned her plate to soothe Carter. The other women and Zachary continued to eat as if this was a regular occurrence. Jacob couldn’t. Shoving in his last bite of Ms. Gatlin’s incredible homemade peanut-butter cookies, he stood up and crossed to take the baby from KC’s arms.
“Sit down and eat,” he said. She’d barely had time to make a dent in her food.
“I’ll eat in a little bit after I get him settled,” she protested.
Jacob was having none of that. He repeated, “Eat,” this time accompanied by a stern look. He lifted the baby from her arms before she could protest. Situating Carter snugly into the crook of his arm, stomach to stomach, Jacob supported Carter’s legs with his other arm. He’d learned quickly that his son would wiggle those little legs enough to drive himself and Jacob crazy. So he tucked his son close, his hand covering most of Carter’s back. A now-familiar rhythm of patting immediately took over.
Back and forth, Jacob took them on a stroll for a few minutes until Carter finally relaxed and slid into a light sleep. Then Jacob settled back into his chair at the solidly built table that showed a lifetime’s worth of wear and tear. As the baby snuggled against him—one of the best feelings in the world, though Jacob would never admit it out loud—he looked up to meet KC’s grateful gaze.
Spending a lot of time with a sleeping baby meant they’d started communicating with a type of telepathic speech. All Jacob had to do was make eye contact, and he’d be able to tell what she was thinking from the look on her face. No words had to be spoken. It was the most intimate thing Jacob had ever experienced with another human being. Even more intimate than sex. And right now, that hazel gaze told him he’d be moving from sleeping on the couch sooner than he’d thought.
“That’s quite the touch you have there,” Zachary said.
Glancing at the others, Jacob was disconcerted to see he’d become the evening’s entertainment. Varying degrees of disbelief, suspicion and approval registered on the faces of KC’s family members. Which left him feeling both disconcerted and, yes, a little smug.
Jacob smiled down at Carter. “Well, practice makes perfect.”
A grumpy huff drew his gaze back up again. “The big question is,” KC’s grandmother said with disbelief in her voice, “does he have any staying power?”
Jacob had to admire a woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, wasn’t intimidated by Jacob’s money or status. Her only concern was her family, as it should be. Jacob’s own concerns were now wrapped up in KC and Carter. Sometimes more than he felt comfortable with, especially in such a short amount of time, but he was adjusting. Mostly. He just had to stay in control.
“Nana!” Apparently KC wasn’t as approving of her grandmother’s candor. “Don’t be rude to Jacob.”
The older woman stared down the table at her granddaughter. “Are you telling me you haven’t thought it? After all the women in this family have been through? Divorce and abandonment. Abuse and neglect. The only thing more important than a man who will stick with you is one who’ll treat ya right.”
Jacob could tell by her expression that she had thought about it. Had he given her any reasons to think otherwise?
Zachary broke in before KC could respond. “You make it sound like y’all are antimen,” he joked, his expression clearly saying what about me.
Nana graced her grandson with a crooked smile. “Y
ou’re the exception, boy. Not the norm.”
“Nana,” KC broke in again. “You can’t judge all men by a few. There are good ones out there.”
What about in here?
The hope in KC’s eyes, which he could see even though she refused to look in his direction, made his chest ache. He looked down at Carter and thought about what kind of man he hoped his son would grow into. How would he want Carter to behave if he found himself in the same situation as Jacob? The idea blew his mind.
“That attitude will get you into trouble,” Nana went on. “One man might just be an example, or even two. But four between us? The pattern is there.” She waved her hand at each of the kids in turn. “Zachary’s dad and his wandering ways. Your dad got tired of responsibility. My husband, David, and his drinking. So I thought a boyfriend would work better, and ended up having to take a fryin’ pan to him after he dared raise his hand to me.” She shook her head. “I think I’m justified in my opinions.”
Maybe so. They did seem to have the worst luck. Or was it really poor choices? As Nana turned her knowing eyes his way, Jacob was again reminded of a toothful shark...or maybe a barracuda. Who could blame her after a lifetime of being left to take care of herself and her children, all alone?
“So what have you got to say for yourself, boy?” she demanded.
Jacob looked around at the faces of the Gatlin women—strong women who persevered despite being repeatedly abandoned—and admired them. They reminded him of Christina. His sister-in-law had an incredible talent for blooming where she was planted, despite all the odds against her.
“I don’t.”
The women met his refusal to defend himself with wide-eyed surprise. Zachary hung his head as if Jacob was doomed.
“Nothing I say will convince you I’m any different, Nana,” he said, soft but sure. “Nor you, Ms. Gatlin. I’m sure all those men had plenty of flattering words that they used to get what they wanted from you, but I’m not a man of charm. My portion went to my twin brother, Luke. But I am a man of action—I’ll let my deeds prove my worth for me.”
