He needed to focus. Stick to the game plan.
“All you need to know is that the Rialtos, despite their relationship to the baby, can’t get their hands on Elmer. They’re not nice people. It’s in Elmer’s best interests that he stays with me. I know that doesn’t tell you much, but it’s really all I can say.”
She grunted.
He gritted his teeth and started pacing again. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
“You’ve said that before. But I think I’ll reserve judgment on that. Nothing personal. I’d just hate to be wrong about you, and let this little baby fall into the wrong hands.”
He sighed in exasperation. “I’m the right hands. At least for now. When his mother gets better—”
“If his mother gets better.”
Max stiffened and swung around to face her. “No! When. I refuse to accept that Emily could die. She swore to me to fight, to get well.”
Emotion clogged his throat.
Laura stood and blocked his path, carrying Elmer on her shoulder. His nephew now sucked on his fist, but his eyelids drooped.
“You have to face reality, Max. You could end up in charge of this baby forever. And you can’t even change a diaper.”
The truth socked him in the gut like a fist, and he tensed in response to the blow. He didn’t do helpless well. He much preferred being in control.
“I can learn. I will learn.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Asking for help went against his grain, but for Elmer, for Emily…
“I…I need you to teach me what to do with him.”
She blinked and gaped for a moment. “I…I can do that.”
Sucking in a deep breath, he spread his hands. “All right. Shoot. What do I do first?”
A lopsided grin tugged the corner of her mouth. “You’re serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. I don’t want to…cause him brain damage or something! I need you to show me what to do.”
The joyful glow returned to her eyes. This time he was the recipient of the warmth, the smile. His body went a little haywire, bathed in her radiance, her approval. His senses sharpened. His adrenaline surged. His skin tingled. Except for the distinct tightening in his groin, the feeling was comparable to the exhilaration of a long jog with the guys at the fire station or the rush of containing a forest fire after battling flames and smoke through a long night.
“I think the best place to start would be for you to get more comfortable with him.” She lifted Elmer from her shoulder, placing a hand behind his head, and held the baby out to him.
The exhilaration evaporated, replaced with a pounding anxiety. Hell. He hated this sense of inadequacy. “I—”
“Just support his head.” She placed Elmer in his arms. “That’s right.” Grinning her encouragement, she stepped back.
Max sat on the edge of the bed and frowned. “Now what?”
“Look at him. Just look at him. Talk to him maybe. Get to know him.”
He arched an eyebrow and sent her a skeptical look. “Like introduce myself?”
“Sure.” She chuckled. “Why not?”
With a grunt, he looked down at Elmer.
Elmer! Sheesh, what a name.
Why hadn’t his indecisive sister chosen a name before her child was born? And why couldn’t Grandpa Harding have come to mind when Laura pressed him about a name rather than Grandpa Caldwell? Jake would have been much better than Elmer. If he survived this undertaking, Emily would kill him for giving her child such an awkward name.
The bed sagged as Laura sat next to him. Her arm brushed his, and he tried hard to focus on Elmer’s soft skin instead of Laura’s.
He stared at the baby, wondering how to proceed. A stir of panic gripped his gut. He couldn’t fail, couldn’t let Emily down. But the baby might as well have been a pair of knitting needles for all he knew to do next. He was in totally uncharted territory.
Laura leaned closer, looking at Elmer with him, and he caught a whiff of her shampoo. Fruit. Strawberries, maybe?
“He has your mouth,” she said.
Her assessment caught him off guard. “What?”
“Elmer has your mouth.” She glanced at his mouth then back at the baby’s.
“You think so?” Curious, Max studied Elmer’s tiny pink lips, wondering what she saw that he’d missed.
“Mmm-hmm.” She reached out and stroked Elmer’s mouth with her fingertip.
His own lips tingled imagining her touch, and he swallowed a moan. Get a grip!
Elmer opened his mouth and suckled her finger.
Max pushed down any number of erotic images, ideas he had for suckling her himself, and cleared his throat. “Do you think he’s hungry?”
“Naw. I just fed him. Babies just like to suck. It’s comforting to them.” She pulled her hand away. “Give him your finger.”
He cut a sideways glance to her. “Huh?”
“Go on. He doesn’t bite. At least, not hard.” She gave him a teasing grin.
Trying to ignore the erratic beating her smile caused in his chest, he poked a finger at Elmer’s mouth.
“Gently. Don’t force it,” she whispered.
Her breath tickled his neck as she huddled close to watch. A prickly heat scampered down his spine, puddled in the core of his body.
Focus. Think about the baby, not the woman.
Max stared hard at Elmer, considered the baby’s mouth. Like his? More like Emily’s, really.
His breath caught.
Emily’s son.
His nephew. This baby was more than just a baby. He was a part of his sister. A part of him.
Family.
His heart kicked up a frenzied cadence, thumping wildly against his ribs. He devoured the sight of the baby with fresh eyes.
Laura was right. He’d been so preoccupied with the threat the Rialtos posed, he hadn’t really looked at Elmer before.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered.
“What?”
He raised his gaze to Laura’s, knowing full well he had moisture in his eyes. “He’s beautiful.”
Laura’s chest squeezed painfully at the awed, lovestruck expression on Max’s face. His dark eyes glistened with wonder and affection, making her own eyes tear. Had her father been this enamored with her when she was a baby? She’d never know. Oh, how she wished she had even one memory of her father smiling at her in love.
But he’d died while she was an infant.
Max blinked rapidly and cleared his throat as he turned his attention back to Elmer. “He, ah…looks like his mother.”
The sudden lump in her throat prevented her from responding.
Max’s fingers roamed over Elmer, along with his gaze. A full range of emotions played across Max’s face. He stroked Elmer’s fuzzy black hair, the curve of his tiny ear, his delicate cheeks. He studied Elmer with a rapt attention to the smallest detail.
Max’s fascination with the baby touched Laura, but the poignancy had a sharp edge that sliced through her. She’d missed so much in her life, not having her father then losing her mother at a tender age. Usually she could keep her emotions in check. She had to in order to protect her heart.
But the day’s tumult and her fatigue left her vulnerable. The honesty of the emotions that filled Max’s eyes blindsided her. The desperate yearning for her own baby, a desire she’d suppressed for years, blossomed inside her and left a hollow ache in her soul. How could she ever have children of her own when she was scared to death of forming a relationship with a man? She’d heard too many sob stories from her coworkers about boyfriends that cheated, fiancés who changed their mind, marriages that failed. She could never risk that sort of betrayal and abandonment. Hadn’t the difficult years, bouncing between foster homes, left enough scars?
“He has fingernails.” Max rubbed Elmer’s thin fingers. The warmth in his voice speared through her chest.
She bolted from the bedside, needing air, needing distance. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she c
ould physically hold her breaking heart together. She drew and slowly released a deep, cleansing breath.
Max looked up at her with a puzzled frown denting his forehead. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Just tired, I guess.”
“You can catch a nap if you want. I think I can handle this little guy for a while.”
“Naw. I have too much on my mind. I’d never get to sleep.”
He turned back to Elmer. “Then if you’re staying up, how about showing me the trick to changing a diaper? I think I smell something rotten in Denmark.”
Laura rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and took one more deep breath. Reminding herself how much she’d suffer later if she let herself get too close to this man and child, she fought down the swell of emotions that had escaped in her moment of weakness. Mentally she locked the door on the longings that could only lead to heartache. Families were for other people. She was better off on her own.
“I’ll get a clean diaper. You put him on the bed and take off the dirty one.” She rummaged in the shopping bag for the package of diapers they’d bought earlier.
She pulled a clean diaper from the pack and turned in time to see Elmer baptize Max in the first lesson regarding baby boys.
“But keep him covered. Boys will squirt you.” She chuckled when Max scowled at her.
“Now you tell me.” He swiped ineffectually at the wet spots on his shirt. “Thanks a lot, Elmer.”
Laura carried the dry diaper over to the bed and demonstrated how to wipe the baby clean, tuck the fresh diaper snugly around his waist and secure the tape. “There. Easy.”
Max didn’t look convinced. He scooped the baby up, holding Elmer under his arms.
“The head! Support his head.” She hurried forward putting her own hand behind Elmer’s lolling head.
“Damn. I forgot.” Max grimaced. He shoved Elmer toward her with a sigh. “Here. You take him while I put on a dry shirt.”
Laura obliged and moved with the baby onto the bed. Elmer whined a bit, and she fished around under his blanket for the pacifier. “Want this, sweetie?”
When she heard a grunt, she glanced up. Max held his injured shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut in pain.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better. But I’ll live.” He gave her a weary, frustrated glance. “Can you help me get this thing on? My shoulder’s still stiff.”
When she hesitated, he added with a grin, “No blood this time. I promise.”
Laura settled Elmer on the bed, wrapped in his blanket, and crossed the room to Max. She stood in front of him for a moment trying to decide how best to help. She knew what she’d do if this were a four-year-old boy at the day care, but how did one help a grown man dress?
A nervous flutter started in her stomach at the prospect.
Awkwardly she moved closer and raised trembling hands to take the clean T-shirt from him. She managed to get the shirt on his good shoulder without touching him. But in order to guide the sleeve on his other arm without hurting him, she had to be more careful. The back of her hand skimmed his chest as she worked the shirt down his arm.
The contact shocked her system. The warmth of his skin made her body hum and vibrate with suppressed energy. She jerked her gaze up to his, and his dark eyes locked on hers, held her in a spell.
She’d never been this close to a man before, close enough to touch him and watch his pupils dilate with desire. In her sheltered life, she’d certainly never assisted a grown man with anything as intimate as dressing. By her own choice, she was completely inexperienced in matters of men.
The crisp, woodsy scent that clung to him filled her nose and left her light-headed. Standing this close to him, she could feel his body heat wrap around her like a hug. The air surrounding them crackled and sparked. The fire in his gaze consumed her oxygen, made it difficult for her to breathe.
Something powerful and foreign to her zinged between them. Something that mesmerized her. Something that made her bones melt.
Laura needed all her willpower to tear her gaze from the intensity in his hot stare. She paused a moment, gathering herself, before she continued her task. As she fumbled to ease the shirt over his head, his thick hair tickled her fingers. When she saw how rumpled her clumsy attempt left his hair, she squelched the sudden urge to smooth the waves back into place.
“Thank you.”
His deep, husky timbre made the two simple words sound like an intimacy whispered between lovers. The sound shimmied down her spine like a sensual caress.
“S-sure.” Laura shivered and stepped back, praying that he wouldn’t ask her help in changing his jeans.
Max had never known a simple touch to cause such a riot in his body. More than her touch, her eyes and the way she looked at him sent his senses into a tailspin.
He couldn’t promise he’d be a gentleman if she looked at him that way again. Hunger shaded her aqua eyes, eyes that could seduce him without the added invitation to devour her on the spot. The subtle brush of her hand on his chest had rocked his control more than he imagined possible. He was no stranger to women, yet this lush-lipped angel had his body reacting like a hormonal schoolboy’s.
Tamping his arousal took a sheer act of will, but he did it. He had no business entertaining any of the lustful thoughts that flickered through his mind. Not while he had drug smugglers breathing down his neck and a hell of a lot to learn about caring for a baby.
Laura returned to the bed where she’d settled Elmer. “The baby’s fallen asleep again.”
“Mmm,” he hummed by way of acknowledgment.
She lay down on her side, keeping her back to him, and curled her body around the baby. The unspoken message in her body language said it all. Stay away. He’d received the same message every time he’d touched her and she’d pulled away. She wanted to keep her distance.
Yet the look in her eyes only moments ago had said something entirely different. These conflicting messages intrigued him. Which was the real Laura?
“Warm enough?” he asked as he strode over to the door and double-checked that the dead bolt was on and the security chain latched.
This time Laura hummed an affirmative reply. “Say, uh…leave the bathroom light on for me. Please?”
“Sure.” Max dropped tiredly on his bed. He leaned up against his pillows and rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. If he inhaled deeply, he could still smell the sweet strawberry scent of Laura’s hair. His body vibrated again with the electric current of desire. Why was he torturing himself this way?
Searching for some distraction, he turned his thoughts to Emily. Pulling from his pocket a slip of paper on which he’d jotted the hospital phone number, Max picked up the hotel phone and dialed. When the nurse on Emily’s floor answered, he told her who he was and asked about his sister’s progress.
No change.
Max thanked the woman and hung up, a mix of relief and disappointment tangling in his chest. He pictured Emily, alone in her hospital room, and gritted his teeth in frustration. No doubt the Rialtos would harass her for information about where he’d taken the baby. Or try to strong-arm her into signing those damn custody papers. He prayed for her courage and strength in the face of such menacing opposition, hating that he wasn’t with her, defending her, guarding her hospital door. But she’d chosen her son’s welfare over her own, and he could do no less in keeping his promise to her.
He shifted his thoughts to his job. Like Laura, he had some personal days saved up, and he knew the guys at the fire station would cover for him under the circumstances.
His Pee Wee football team was another matter. The kids counted on him, and he hated not being there. Frustration roiled, and Max rubbed his gritty eyes with his fingers.
The sound of voices near their door intruded in his reverie, and he tensed. Snatching the Glock from the nightstand, he hurried over to the front window and nudged the curtain aside. His heart thundered against his ribs as he scanned the parking lot. The
dark shapes of two men moved slowly from the shadows and under a streetlight. The flash of light reflecting off metal drew Max’s attention to their hands. He squinted.
Cans. Probably beer, judging from the way the two men staggered. On closer inspection, he realized the men were, in fact, teenagers, and he released the breath he held. Carousing teens, not drug-dealing thugs. Jeez, he was jumpy.
He let the curtain fall back in place, wondering if those teens’ parents knew where they were and what they were doing. He’d made a point of knowing everything Emily was involved in during her rebellious teen years, even though she’d complained he was too controlling. He furrowed his brow. Maybe if he hadn’t been so strict with Emily, she wouldn’t have defied him and jumped rashly into her marriage with Joe Rialto.
Another failure on his head.
He glanced to the bed where Laura rested with Elmer. His dramatics hadn’t drawn so much as a peep from her. Curious, he walked around to the opposite side of her bed and peered down. Both she and Elmer were sound asleep.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to sleep,” he whispered, a grin tugging his mouth to the side.
He studied her peaceful expression, void now of the subtle tension that had shadowed her all day. In sleep, even more than earlier that evening, her face had an ethereal quality.
He recalled her guts, her grit and determination to guard Elmer in the face of Anthony Rialto’s gun. Even now, she curled an arm around his nephew, snuggling the infant in the curve of her body. He admired her willingness to sacrifice her own safety to stay with Elmer. Maybe a little crazy, but admirable. He guessed she’d be the kind of parent who’d stay involved with her teenager. Without smothering and controlling.
Courage, compassion and selflessness all wrapped in a damn fine package. Laura Dalton was a piece of work.
Max angled his head to watch his nephew sleep. When he was quiet, the little tyke was pretty angelic himself. Dark eyelashes fanned across his delicate baby cheeks. He was so tiny, so perfect, so innocent.
In Protective Custody Page 7
