Baby on the Bad Boy's Doorstep

by Victoria James

  She turned around, wiping her hands on some dark-green dishcloth he didn’t remember buying. “Hi.”

  He cleared his throat and took a step forward. “I’m sorry.”

  Surprise flashed across her large eyes and he felt like even more of an ass for some reason. She hadn’t expected him to apologize. What did she think of him, if she hadn’t thought he’d apologize for shutting her down and being a jerk?

  “Okay. I, um, know you’re going through a lot. No need to let me in on anything. I’m here for the next few months.” She said it with a sad kind of smile. Normally he’d think that was someone’s plea for sympathy or attention, but she said it matter-of-factly, like she really believed that’s all they were. At the very least they could be friends. Whatever he thought was already impossible was now made even more so by his current circumstances.

  “You know you’re so much more than that to me,” he said. He’d wanted that to sound friendly and not like he meant any more, but his voice was hoarse and he’d obviously done a bad job of keeping the emotion out of it, because her cheeks colored slightly and she turned away.

  “Does this place look different to you?” she asked, the brightness in her voice sounding forced.

  He reluctantly turned from her, knowing this was a tactic to change the subject. But when his gaze took in the open space he was shocked. It looked like a home. Certainly, nothing like a place he’d ever lived. There were glowing candles, matching pillows and blankets. He spotted a couple of cooking/recipe magazines on the coffee table. There were red flowers on the kitchen table. Place mats and another candle. And dishes. Huh.

  “You did all this?”

  She nodded, smiling now, ear to ear. Then she spread her arm out and showcased the kitchen. There was a coffee maker—the fancy kind—with a glass jar filled with coffee beans. A mug stand with some white mugs. And the appliance he was most intrigued with was the one that was housing whatever was making the place smell so damn good.

  “What’s in there?” he asked, pointing.

  “Chili,” she said.

  His stomach growled audibly. “Seriously?”

  She nodded and then bolted to the oven as a timer went off. She pulled out a tray of biscuits and he swore to god he was going to pay her more money. “Can I help with anything?”

  She shook her head and started scooping out chili into some bowls he’d never seen before. “Go sit down,” she said, handing him a bowl. “There are toppings on the table. I’m not sure how you like your chili. I’ll bring the biscuits.”

  He did as instructed, and she joined him a minute later. “This is all way beyond your job description,” he said as she handed him a basket with warm biscuits.

  “It’s part of the Haley package,” she said, smiling across the table at him like they did this every night.

  He noticed the candle on the table. “I like the candle,” he said.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Really? It has a light spruce smell. I thought the place needed a little bit of warming up.”

  “I like it. You got the rug and coatrack, too?”

  She nodded, almost warily. “Um, also the pillows, throws, and other candles in the family room. But don’t worry, I paid for all that myself.”

  He didn’t know what to say. She looked nervous, like she thought he was going to be mad or something. “You don’t have to do that. Tell me how much you spent, and I’ll give you cash for it.”

  She didn’t say anything. “No, no. I insist. It’s stuff you never would have bought. I may have gotten a little carried away.”

  He laughed. “I like all of it, but if you don’t tell me how much you spent, then I’m going to get it wrong. I have no idea how much this stuff costs. Seriously, I hope you kept receipts.”

  She nodded. “I can always return stuff if you…” Her voice trailed off, and she blushed.

  She probably thought he was broke. It was a fair assumption. No one really knew much about him. He was just some guy who’d worked on an oil rig with Jack. They’d all accomplished so much. Next to them, he didn’t look that great. His house was small and empty. He drove a nondescript truck. His entire wardrobe consisted of jeans, except for the dumb suit he’d had to purchase for Luke and Gwen’s wedding. Oh, and he had a baby with some woman who left an infant on a doorstep in the winter. That never would have happened to any of them.

  He never really cared about proving himself because there had never been anyone he’d needed to impress. Until now. They had all gone to school, he was the only one who hadn’t. Maybe it was his own insecurities, but still. It bothered him that she pitied him or thought he couldn’t afford a few hundred dollars’ worth of purchases. If there was one thing that growing up with no money had taught him, it was that being broke sucked. So the minute he’d started full-time work, he’d saved. He’d lived below his means, always. “I can afford it, Haley. I don’t have financial issues.”

  She nodded and smiled.

  He hadn’t convinced her. He knew she and her brother were used to living with money. Her brother was a doctor. He had a feeling she’d been used to a pretty good lifestyle with her husband, because he knew enough to know that her clothes were designer, and her car was luxury. He’d done well for himself, though; he just had no need for more than what was in his house. He was good with numbers, always had been, and when he first started making significant money had taught himself how to invest. It hadn’t taken long before he’d grown a significant portfolio. It was laughable really; no one would ever know that about him. It was probably for the best. If Tess had known that, she’d have probably tried to take advantage of the situation.

  She gave him a small smile. It was her pity smile. “Do you want a coffee with dinner?”

  “No thanks, but after dinner I can make us a cup.”

  She winced. “I might need to give you a tutorial,” she said, taking a bite of chili.

  “Why?”

  “I kind of changed up the coffee situation.”

  He grinned and took a spoonful of the warm chili. He tried not to die. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life,” he said, inhaling another spoonful. “I couldn’t care less what you’ve done to my coffee.”

  She laughed. “Really?”

  He nodded and proceeded to devour the rest of the bowl, but trying to remember not to look like a wild beast in the process. He ate. He ate everything. She was still finishing her first bowl of chili while he’d polished off two bowls and three biscuits. “You don’t have to cook like this for me.”

  “It was easy. Do you want me to get coffee going?”

  He frowned. “I’ll do it. You finish eating. Besides, I’m sure Rosie will be up soon.” He didn’t like thinking about the fact that when his daughter did wake up he had no idea what to do with her. He also had the new issue that just looking at her after yesterday made him feel even guiltier. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll make it,” he said, rising and taking his dishes to the dishwasher and loading it.

  She gave a small laugh. “Okay. Fine. It’s super easy.”

  “First, you boil water,” she said in a voice that was slightly bossy which he really liked. “Is that new, too?” he asked, pointing to the red kettle she had placed on the stovetop.

  She blushed and nodded. “It was super cute, and you didn’t have a kettle. Okay, now scoop in six spoons of the freshly ground Ethiopian coffee.”

  He did as instructed, trying not to laugh. “You had to mention it was freshly ground?”

  “It’s really an art.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. Before the water boils, fill up the carafe with the hot water, give it a stir, and put the lid on. Then set the timer for three minutes. Then slowly depress the plunger.”

  He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “All that effort for a cup of coffee? Now I know why Keurig became so popular,” he grumbled.

  She made a choking sound. “That’s not real coffee. Just wait until you drink this.”


  He tilted his head. “Fine. We’ll see.”

  If she wasn’t the woman he was supposed to not get involved with, he would have snatched her into his arms and kissed her. He realized how quickly he’d gotten used to seeing her in his house. All her things. Even all the stuff she’d bought today…he liked all of it. She was making it feel like home. She was making him feel like he was part of a family.

  He stood there looking at her, feeling like a child for wishing for things that he knew didn’t really exist in the real world. Or maybe they did, just not for people like him. People like the Baileys, sure. Not for Connor. But Haley deserved more. She deserved another chance with a man who appreciated her for the kind-hearted woman she was.

  The sound of Rosie crying broke the moment. He knew he should offer to get her. He knew he should at least express interest in seeing his daughter, but he held back. After his sleepless night of research, the thought of Rosie filled him with a guilt that immobilized him. The timer went off. “I’d better finish this coffee,” he said, happy for the excuse.

  “Don’t screw it up,” she said over her shoulder. “Rosie is about to be up for hours, so I need my caffeine.”

  He would have smiled, except she was already gone so he didn’t need to fake it. He poured two cups of the dark brew, the aroma teasing his senses. He took a sip, while the sound of Haley talking to Rosie softly stirred something inside him. Her voice was so comforting and gentle, and Rosie must have thought the same thing because her crying ceased.

  He took another sip of the damn fine coffee and tried to reconcile what he was feeling, what he was wishing for. He hated wishing. Wishing wasn’t doing. Wishing was sitting around on your ass like a kid and dreaming about all the things that life owed you. But life didn’t owe him anything.

  He was the only one who could make his dreams come true. He wasn’t wishing for himself, though, he was wishing for Rosie. He was wishing that Haley wouldn’t leave them.

  Chapter Five

  Haley finished making the bed and took in the bedroom quickly. Perfect. She moved softly out of the room and gently closed the door behind her. Rosie was down for her afternoon nap, and Haley needed to get dinner going.

  The end of week two was going well. Of course, there was the growing concern for a few matters—the first being that Connor barely interacted with Rosie. At first, she thought it was jitters and that he didn’t know how to be a father. Now she was getting concerned that there was more to it. It had all started the day Luke told them about the fetal alcohol syndrome possibility. She witnessed Connor detach. She was getting to know him well enough that she didn’t think it had to do with a lack of responsibility or wanting a child with a possible disability, but rather from a deep-seated guilt. Because Connor gave off vibes that he was deep. It was odd; looking at him, you kind of assumed he was all attitude and hotness, yet there was this other side to him…

  Her other concern was that…she was getting feelings for him. Feelings other than attraction. He was so sweet to her. He helped her around the house— anything that didn’t involve Rosie. She was coming to forget how uptight she used to be in her marriage. Just the faintest noise used to set her off, but not anymore. She was feeling too good, too safe.

  She thought it would be a good time to do a quick sweep of the floors. She frowned when she opened the laundry room closet door and noticed three large file boxes. She hadn’t seen these before. Was it nosy of her to open them? Yes. Nosy. On the other hand, she really didn’t know much about Connor and…she opened the lid on the first one and her stomach dropped as she scanned all the neatly labeled files…they all had to do with fetal alcohol syndrome. She pulled the first one out, a thick file with papers printed from various sources. They were highlighted and marked. She carefully moved aside the first box and removed the lid on the second. More of the same. Same with the third box— it was filled with articles on fetal alcohol syndrome, what to do once your child was diagnosed—therapists, centers, supplements. She blinked back tears and carefully put all the boxes as they were.

  She was right. He cared so much, but the poor man hadn’t let on at all. When had he had time to read everything? He worked late every night. He was up by five every morning. How fast could he read? And they were for sure all read because there was highlighting and notes in the margins. How could he have read all of that in so little time?

  “Hi.”

  Haley screamed at the sound of Connor’s voice behind her. She spun around, and she couldn’t tell if he was mad or amused. Her heart was still hammering inside her chest and embarrassment flooded her body. “Hi,” she managed to croak. “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

  “Clearly.”

  She tried to close the closet door in a last-ditch attempt at hiding the fact that she’d been snooping.

  “You forgot to put the lid back on the top one,” he said, an adorably infuriating smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.

  She shut the lid, and then her eyes, because of her mortification. “Honestly, I wasn’t trying to spy on you. I came in here to get the broom and then happened to see these boxes.”

  “Haley, it’s fine.”

  The softness, and laughter, in his voice made her open her eyes. He wasn’t mad at her. She had been bracing herself for anger, even though he’d never shown her any. “Really?”

  “Really. I came home early to give you a break. I thought maybe we could order pizza and watch a movie or something.”

  She swallowed. “What?”

  He shrugged, taking off his jacket. She forced herself to keep her eyes on his and not wander over the broad shoulders and heavy biceps, which was very hard to do because she usually got a quick peek in the early evening when he walked from the washroom to the bedroom wearing nothing but boxers. Better than dessert, really. “Yeah. Unless you have other plans.”

  She let out a snort and then tried to hide the disgusting noise with a cough. “That sounds great. I was about to start dinner, so perfect timing.”

  “Great. I’m going to shower.”

  It wasn’t until he left the room that she realized she hadn’t asked him about the boxes. She glanced at her watch. Movie. Takeout. This should be a date. She bolted to her room and quickly freshened up: lip gloss, hair brushing, deodorant, and a spritz of lilac perfume. Done. She glanced down at her formula-stained sweater and decided a quick change was in order. She flung her drawer open and decided on a sweater that was very similar looking so that he might not notice she’d changed. The leggings were going to have to stay. Jeans looked like too much effort. Also she didn’t want to deal with the possibility of a muffin-top situation since she hadn’t worn them in three weeks, and she’d been baking and cooking like Ina Garten. How could a mom who hadn’t given birth gain baby weight?

  She took a deep breath, glanced in the mirror, and reminded herself this wasn’t a date. This was ordering pizza with her employer and possibly watching a movie. That was all. But her employer happened to be very hot, and lived under the same roof. Also, said employer had been the subject of many of her dreams these last weeks. Oh God, she was a goner.

  She re-entered the main room with what she hoped was poise. Connor was just getting off the phone. “All right,” he said, looking serious and grave. “Luigi said he’s out of pepperoni. So, I had to improvise. I got us a Hawaiian and vegetarian.”

  She laughed. “That’s fine.”

  He looked relieved. “Good. I was a little pissed, but whatever.”

  “I have never seen you angry, but no pepperoni gets you riled up?”

  He shrugged. “I’d been dreaming of a meat lover’s pizza all day. Can’t have that without pepperoni.”

  Meat lover’s. He wasn’t even thinking anything other than the fact that there would now be a meat deficiency on his pizza. “Why don’t I get Rosie’s bottle warmed up, that way by the time the pizza gets here she’ll be all fed and changed and we should be able to eat and watch a movie.”

 
“Sure.” He didn’t make a move toward the bedroom to get Rosie. She was going to have to push a little harder because she was getting very concerned with his lack of involvement with her. He needed to bond with her.

  “Why don’t you get Rosie?”

  A shadow flashed across his eyes and he looked down for a moment, his hands in the front of his jean pockets. “I’ll get the bottle,” he said and walked by her into the kitchen.

  Her heart sank but she went to the bedroom to get Rosie, who was already awake and making adorable cooing noises. She smiled down at the perfect little baby. Rosie’s bright blue eyes latched onto hers, and Haley felt the connection to the little girl grow even stronger. She reached out and picked her up, loving the way her soft, snuggly body curled into hers. She whispered to Rosie as she changed her diaper. The little girl looked up at her as though she was listening and understanding. “I’m going to fix this for you, Rosie. I’m going to help your daddy. He’s a good man, and I’m going to show him how deserving he is of you.”

  She changed Rosie’s sleeper into a pink velour one with white flowers. She smiled at the baby as she carefully wiped her face and brushed the thin layer of hair on her head. She blinked back tears as emotions and memories of her own dreams, her own babies, flooded her. She would want Rosie to be hers in a heartbeat. She would give anything to have this child be her own. Life’s ultimate cruel joke was that there were people out there that didn’t want their children, and so many others that would give anything for the privilege of being a parent. She picked Rosie up and held her close, cherishing the little girl and giving her a kiss on her soft cheek. She was going to get through to her father. She was going to force Connor to fall in love with this baby.

  When she made it back to the main room, Connor was pulling a bottle of wine from the wine rack. He made eye contact with her across the room and her mouth went dry. They had both been in survival mode. But something was happening. Something was changing. She read it in the look he gave her. “I thought you might want a glass of wine with the pizza,” he said, holding up her favorite wine.