She walked forward, also noticing he’d lit the candles. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”
He gave her an adorable half smile that left her breathless. “I asked Gwen.”
Oh. Oh. “Thanks,” she said as he poured a glass. The doorbell rang and he handed her the glass and went to answer the door. A moment later, he was in the middle of the room, holding two giant pizza boxes.
“Do we want to eat on the couch?” he asked, already walking over there.
“Perfect. Maybe you hold Rosie, and I’ll get us some plates,” she said. She handed Rosie over before he could come up with an excuse. She sort of shoved her into his chest and he quickly wrapped his hands around her and sheltered her head in his chest. She couldn’t even hide her smile of satisfaction. She was going to fix this whole thing. By the time she left them in the fall, they were going to be a happy father-daughter family. She was also not going to think about leaving them. Time for wine. She grabbed plates and napkins and Rosie’s bottle that was warm and sitting on the counter and then joined them on the couch.
She needed to get him to feed Rosie. That was major bonding. She wished her stomach could growl on cue or something. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast,” she said, holding her stomach. “It smells so good.”
He frowned. “Well…why don’t you eat first? I guess I can feed Rosie.”
She hid her smile and handed him the bottle. “Thanks. That’s so great. I think I have blood sugar issues.”
Judging by the slight twitch of his lips she may have taken her ploy a little too far. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to faint or anything.”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze and took a piece of her gooey and delicious pizza. “Omigod, this is the best thing I’ve tasted since Gwen brought chocolate cake to Sunday night dinner.” She flopped onto the couch beside them and looked over to see how the feeding situation was going. Her heart squeezed, and she stopped chewing at the sight of Connor and his little baby. He didn’t even look as though he’d heard what she’d said. He was staring down at Rosie, who was looking up at him with the biggest eyes as she steadily downed her bottle. This was it. No one could resist Rosie’s eyes. Every time that little girl looked at her, she fell a little bit more in love.
She finished the rest of her pizza in silence, mesmerized by the sight of father and daughter. The image of the two of them was so precious. It was like Rosie knew him on some level. Even though she hadn’t spent that much time with him, she knew him, she felt comforted by him. When the bottle was finished and Connor looked up at her, she knew he was a goner. There was a sheen in his eyes and his jaw was clenching and unclenching.
He cleared his throat. “What do I do now?”
She put her empty plate down. “She should be burped. Just put her on your shoulder, but don’t move too quickly, she has a tendency to eject everything she puts in quite easily. Then you can rub her back until she burps. I think I should get you a receiving blanket,” she said, standing. But Connor had already moved her onto his shoulder. She ran to the kitchen where she kept a stash of blankets and she returned in time to see projectile formula cascade out of Rosie’s mouth and onto Connor’s back. “Oh, man,” he said. “You weren’t joking. Is it as bad as it feels?”
She winced, coming closer and assessing the situation. “Worse,” she whispered. The entire back of his shirt and top of his jeans were plastered to him. “Okay. No need to panic. You need to take off your clothes and shower.” Of course the minute she ordered him to take his clothes off things got funny. For her, anyway. He was looking like he was ready to throw up.
“Hand me Rosie,” she said, taking her. Rosie was as happy as could be, even though Haley knew she’d be hungry again very soon after all that spit up formula.
“I can’t move,” Connor said, wincing.
She nodded. “Take off your clothes here. I’ll throw them in the washer.” Her face was probably as bright as a tomato.
Again, he didn’t seem to sense her awkwardness because he carefully peeled his wet shirt off and shrugged out of his jeans. She was going to pass out. Maybe she’d be able to blame it on her made up blood sugar issues. She was an idiot. So of course she’d seen him here and there without all his clothes in the last two weeks. And yes, she’d seen guys before. She had been married as well. This…was entirely different. Connor without clothes was a situation life had never prepared her for. She tried to speak, but her mouth was dry. There were far too many muscles and tattoos happening.
“Going to shower, then I’ll take that stuff to the washing machine,” he said, walking out of the room.
Don’t turn around and look. So she turned around and looked. Good grief, the man was like a walking statue of male perfection. Tall and muscular, like a bronzed god.
Where did her wine go? She was trying to act cool, but it wasn’t happening. Her pulse was racing and nothing had even happened between them. He didn’t even give any indication he was aware of her current pathetic state. She took a big gulp of wine and then assessed Rosie. Not even an ounce of formula had ended up on the baby. She smiled at her and then got her settled in her bassinet.
She heard the water running in the shower and picked up Connor’s clothes then ran a load of laundry. When she came back into the family room he was already back and looking better than the pizza. “Feel better?” She pretended to look like she wasn’t picturing him without his clothes on. She needed counseling.
“Yeah,” he said with a slight laugh. He flipped open the lid on his Hawaiian pizza and took three slices out and flopped them onto his plate. “Thanks for grabbing my clothes. I could have done that.”
“No worries. You not having wine?” she asked, taking a sip of hers.
“I’m not much of a wine drinker.”
“Beer?”
He shrugged, a strange look coming across his handsome features. “I don’t feel like any.”
“Oh. Okay,” she said, an idea suddenly occurring to her. She’d seen him drink—at the wedding, a glass at the Baileys on Sunday night, but maybe his sudden aversion had to do with the guilt with Rosie and the fetal alcohol syndrome.
“So since Rosie spit up what had to be the entire contents of that bottle, does that mean she’s going to need to eat again?” he asked, finishing off his first slice.
She nodded, happy in his interest in Rosie. “Yup, I’d say within the hour.”
He smiled before starting on his next piece of pizza. She wondered if this would be a good time to discuss the contents of the boxes. That also meant remembering that she’d been caught snooping. Oh well, for Rosie’s sake she’d do it. “Are you going to be reading through all that stuff you piled up and filed? I can help, if you want.”
He stopped chewing for a moment, his blue eyes latching onto hers. For a second she thought he wasn’t going to reply at all. “I already read them,” he said, resuming his chewing. His feet were up on the coffee table and he was leaning back, eating like he didn’t have a care in the world. Lies. She knew he was going through a lot, but he couldn’t express himself.
“You don’t have to lie.”
Again, chewing stopped, eyes on hers. “I don’t lie.”
“But how could you have read all that? It was all filed and highlighted and—”
“Are you sure you haven’t read all three boxes?” he asked, a smirk making her realize he wasn’t upset with her. She did feel her cheeks heat up at the implication that she’d snooped so extensively.
“There’s no way you could have read all that.”
He shrugged, placing his now empty plate on the table. “I’m a fast reader.”
Something didn’t add up. He worked long days, six days a week. There was no time to research, read, file, and take notes. “I always thought I was a fast reader, but nothing like that. Did…you find what you were looking for?”
He sighed. “I guess.”
“Do you feel better?”
He ran a hand over his stubbly jaw. “
As good as a person could feel knowing that they had an unplanned baby with a person who may or may not have been drinking their entire pregnancy.”
She reached across the couch to touch his arm. It was an instinct to want to comfort those she cared about. It should have been an innocent touch, but the feel of his hot, hard flesh beneath her hand sent off alarm bells inside her head. There was nothing platonic about her feelings for Connor. The attraction she felt for him was real and very worrisome.
“Haley,” he said, the rough tenderness in his voice beckoning her, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her stomach twirled around and her toes curled. She should drop her hand now. Right about now. Or sometime soon, for sure.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You know how grateful I am to you, right?”
She nodded, not saying anything, waiting, wanting the moment to never end. Because this was so new to her. Being next to a strong, kind, sweet man, and not having an ounce of fear in her body. She wanted more. So much more from him.
“You know that nothing can ever happen between us,” he said, pulling back slightly. Her arm fell and humiliation swept through her, harsh and fierce.
“Of course,” she whispered, waving a hand, praying that she’d be able to look and sound convincing. “That would be so stupid. I’m leaving. You’re starting a life here. There’s no way we could work, this would be all wrong. Right?”
He stood up abruptly and ran a hand through his hair as he walked across the room. She tried not to let the sting of his rejection show. She’d put herself out there, not even intentionally, but he’d shot her down instantly. “Haley…”
“No, never mind. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. Must be the wine and loneliness. I haven’t had wine in ages.” Lies. She’d had wine last week with her friends. Well, not all lies because she had never been able to handle a second glass of wine well. She was into her second, and it usually managed to lift the cloak of self-discipline. “And all I do is talk to a baby who can’t speak back yet. I was really blabbing nonsensically.”
His wince was even more painful. He knew she was trying to save face. But again, he did nothing to indicate he had feelings for her. So it was one-sided; that was fine. She wasn’t even ready for a relationship. “I’m not ready for a relationship, anyway,” she continued babbling because he just stood there looking gorgeous and untouchable. “Another man is the last thing this girl needs,” she said, clearing the pizza boxes and plates. “I need another man in my life like I need a bad case of shingles.”
She thought she heard a choked laugh, but since she wasn’t looking at him, she continued speaking and crossed the room to the kitchen. “Really, stinky socks, food demands, criticism, having to look perfect all the time, someone telling you you’re not good enough, always pointing out your faults, yelling, slamming doors. I mean, who needs that?” She probably shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine, judging by the look on his face. She thought he was going to walk out of the room, but he just stood there with a look of sympathy. She didn’t know what she preferred.
“Haley,” he said roughly.
She swallowed hard when he started crossing the room toward her. Uh-oh. She slung back the rest of her wine and placed it on the counter, belatedly realizing chugging alcohol might not be the best look for her. He didn’t stop walking until he was about an inch or so from her. He had amazing light-blue flecks in his eyes, and up close she could see he had a tiny scar above his lips. She really shouldn’t stare at his mouth, but while she was, she had to admit it was a very sensual-looking mouth. She stood there, not moving, maybe not really breathing either. Again, that blood sugar line was really coming in handy.
“Haley,” he said again in that voice that made her toes curl. She lifted her eyes from his mouth to meet his gaze.
“Um, yes?”
“You’re good enough.”
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t, because her emotions were swirling around inside her, tying up her words, until she didn’t know what to say. For a second it looked as though he was going to touch her, or move forward, but instead he backed up a step. His face was tight, his eyes stormy. “You are more than good enough, and if anyone ever made you think otherwise, or told you otherwise, they never deserved you.”
She stood there, watching him leave, wishing they could be more. She wished for lots of things—the first being that she hadn’t had two glasses of wine and could say something profound and witty. The second was that she wished she’d met Connor years ago, before she’d made the worst decision of her life. And third, she wished that this little family they had was real.
Chapter Six
Connor stared at the ceiling, knowing sleep wasn’t going to happen. He scrubbed his hands down his face, exhaustion making him want sleep, but the turmoil in his head made it impossible to relax.
Haley and Rosie were going to be the death of him, each for their own reasons. They were an adorable duo that worked in tandem to prevent him from staying detached. He wanted Rosie to have the best of everything, and every day he stayed away from her, the worse he felt. But he didn’t know how to get over the guilt.
She looked at him with those eyes and he wanted to promise her the world. He wanted so many things for her. He wanted her to grow up with security and love and kindness, but he didn’t know how to give it to her. He didn’t know if it was too late. Connor was thinking his daughter was paying him back for his lack of presence in her first month of life. And if she suffered in any way because of Tess, then he’d never forgive himself.
Then there was Haley. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do about her. He had feelings. Maybe all the feelings. But Haley was off-limits. Tonight, when she’d stood in his living room—drunk off two glasses of rosé and letting it slip what kind of ass she’d been married to—he’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her until she couldn’t remember her ex. He’d wanted to kiss her and love her until she forgot every horrible word, every insult, and every fight. He wanted to hear her whisper his name. Nah, he was a liar, he wanted to hear her scream his name in the best possible way. But instead he’d walked away from her. He’d had to physically remove himself because he’d wanted her so badly.
So now, at three o’clock in the morning, this was where he was. Sleepless. On the couch, by himself.
The sound of Rosie whimpering broke the silence of the early morning. Normally, he’d wait until he heard Haley getting up, but he didn’t want to do that. The need to feel her little body in his arms, to see her, overshadowed the guilt and he quickly stood and walked toward their room.
He stood quietly in the doorway of the bedroom Haley and Rosie occupied. The door was slightly open, and he heard Haley’s soft voice. She was singing that song about sunshine, and he felt the unfamiliar sting of tears in the back of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, shutting it down ASAP.
He opened the door a little wider, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting her to stop singing. She was standing in front of Rosie who was on the makeshift changing table. Rosie was listening and cooing, not looking the least bit upset anymore. Haley was an expert. A natural caregiver. Seconds later, she had Rosie on her shoulder and was walking the room, still singing her song. When she spotted him, she stopped.
“Connor, holy crap, you scared me. Don’t stand there like a stalker.”
He choked out a laugh. Rosie started fussing again and Haley bounced her a few times, patting her bum and walking toward him. “Sorry. I heard her crying and thought I’d help.”
She shooed him. “Don’t worry, you need sleep.”
“So do you,” he said, eyeing Rosie. He had no idea how Haley bounced her around and managed to make it look so easy. He felt so awkward holding his daughter. “I’m awake anyway and it’s Saturday. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll bring her out on the couch with me.”
“She’s been changed. She’s probably hungry,” she said, approaching him.
“You might want to put a receiving
blanket over your shoulder,” she said, grabbing one on her way over. “You don’t want a repeat of earlier.”
She handed her over and tried to find a comfy spot, but Rosie started fussing.
“Here, you stand still and I’m going to put her in her favorite position and I’ll guide your hands.” Haley placed Rosie so that she was nuzzled in the crook of his neck and she placed one of his hands on her back and his other on her bottom. Suddenly Rosie was quiet. She was this tiny lump of life that smelled so sweet, and she was his. He made eye contact with Haley and was astounded by the love he saw shining from them. “She’s the sweetest little baby.”
“I don’t know how I got so lucky as to have you offer to look after Rosie,” he said, speaking without thinking.
She blinked a few times. “This was perfect for me, too. I had nothing happening anyway. So…I guess I’ll get some sleep, if you’re sure. I really should only stick to one glass of wine. Do you want me to warm up her bottle?”
“I can do it,” he said.
“When she falls asleep you can put her back in the bassinet,” she said.
He nodded. “Get some rest. We’ll be fine.”
He walked out into the family room, lit by only the moonlight. He held her the entire time he got her bottle ready, suddenly never wanting to let go. He settled onto the couch, smiling as Rosie made lots of noises. She was a loud eater, and it was damn cute how quickly she downed that bottle, not taking her eyes off him. It was humbling having her look at him like that. She trusted him. Even though he’d barely been there for her, the trust was written all over her.
He shifted her gently onto his shoulder. He kept rubbing her back and found himself nuzzling the top of her head, her tufts of hair reminding him of a duckling. After she let out a giant belch, he slowly laid down, shifting Rosie so that she was safely perched between the middle of his chest and the couch back. She offered no protests.
A strange feeling came over him, holding her there. It was foreign to him. It was the need to protect, to offer her the best of everything. Her rapid breathing touched him, and he held her a little closer, whispering promises he didn’t even know how he’d ever keep. But he knew in that moment he’d die fighting for each one of them. He craned his neck to see if she was sleeping but she wasn’t, and her blue eyes locked onto his and he smiled. “Hi, Rosie.”
Baby on the Bad Boy's Doorstep Page 7
