The Baby Bet: His Secret Son (The Baby Bet #5)

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “Baby bottles don’t shatter that easily,” Kara said, “and besides, you…you have a very gentle touch when it’s needed.”

  Their eyes met and desire licked through them instantly, like a match being set to dry leaves. Kara tore her gaze from Andrew’s and walked to a bassinet set against the far wall. Andrew took a steadying breath, then followed her, the bottle at arm’s length in front of him.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” Kara said, reaching into the bassinet. Mommy is here, my love. Mommy is here. “Are you hungry?”

  She lifted the baby slowly and so very carefully, then shifted him to the crook of her arm.

  “He’s a crack baby,” she said, her voice hushed as she looked up at Andrew. “His birth mother was on drugs, and this little guy is paying the price. He’s going through withdrawal. Crack babies can’t handle sudden movement or loud noises. He’s had a very rough start in life, I’m afraid.”

  “No joke,” Andrew said, his gaze focused on the baby. “He’s so small. I have never in my life seen such a tiny human being.”

  “He only weighed a little over four pounds when he was born,” Kara said, “but he’s gaining steadily. He’s doing very well, considering the circumstances. Don’t you think he’s beautiful, Andrew?”

  “Yes, I do,” Andrew said, nodding. “I really do. He’s amazing. He has everything he’s supposed to have, only it’s in miniature. You know what I mean? Eyes, nose, mouth…Look at those tiny hands, those fingers. I have pencils twice as wide as those fingers. Amazing.”

  The baby blinked, drew a shuddering breath, then began to cry. Andrew jerked in surprise.

  “What’s the matter with him?” he said. “Do something, Kara. Wow! How can so much noise come out of such a small person?”

  Kara laughed and settled into the rocking chair. She extended her hand toward Andrew and he slapped the bottle into it. She popped the nipple into the baby’s mouth and he began to suckle hungrily. Andrew glanced around, then reached for a stool on wheels, which he pulled close to the rocker.

  “Way to go, sport,” he said, seating himself to watch the baby eat. “Polish that off and we’ll buy you a hot-fudge sundae for dessert.”

  This, Kara thought, had been a major mistake. Very very foolish. She was soaking up Andrew’s endearing reactions to the baby like a thirsty sponge. She was sharing her son with him before anyone in her family even knew that she hoped to adopt him, to make him truly hers.

  And it felt so right, so very warm, and rich, and wonderful to have Andrew sitting right next to her and the baby while she tended to him.

  The next time she came to the nursery to feed the baby, she’d envision Andrew being there with her, she just knew she would. Oh, yes, this was a very foolish mistake.

  “How could someone take drugs while they were pregnant?” Andrew said. “That blows my mind.”

  “I know,” Kara said, nodding. “But it happens a lot, I’m afraid. It will be a while before I…they know if any long-term damage was done to this little guy. He didn’t deserve to start life this way.”

  “Mmm,” Andrew said.

  “Andrew,” Kara said, glancing at him, then redirecting her attention to the baby. “My aunt Margaret told the family that she had spoken with you and that she knows you’re Robert’s son. She said you have the MacAllister eyes, and she could also see Robert in your features.”

  “Dandy,” Andrew said dryly. “I bumped into your aunt—literally—in that little park near here. She’s a classy lady. She really is. So she dropped that bombshell on the troops, huh? I bet that went over like a dull thud. What did everyone have to say on the subject?”

  “Aunt Margaret didn’t allow anyone to comment,” Kara said. “She said it wasn’t open for discussion and she was waiting until Uncle Robert could explain things to her. Believe me, when Aunt Margaret speaks in a certain tone of voice, she is listened to.” Kara paused. “Your age, how old you are, is going to have a major impact on this whole situation.”

  Andrew nodded. “I realize that. Your aunt asked me not to tell her how old I was. She wants to hear it all from her husband, not from me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to tell you how old I am, Kara?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not my place to know before Aunt Margaret does.”

  “There’s that family loyalty again,” Andrew said, sitting straighter on the stool. “Does your family know that you’re having dinner with me tonight?”

  “They reached that conclusion without my telling them. It got mixed reviews. My brother Richard is being grumpy about it, and my brother Jack was concerned but very sweet. The others wisely kept silent on the subject.”

  “I’m sorry I’m causing you problems,” Andrew said, frowning.

  “I make my own choices, Andrew. I have the right to do that. I—”

  A sudden loud buzzing noise reverberated through the air, and the baby stopped suckling on the nipple. He shuddered, then began to eat again.

  “Uh-oh,” Kara said.

  “What is that?” Andrew said. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Kara,” Peggy called from across the room. “I have a preemie in distress. Can you help me?”

  “I’m coming,” Kara called, causing the baby to jerk at the increased volume of her voice. She stood, then bent down toward Andrew. “Here, take him.”

  Before Andrew actually realized what was happening, he had the baby in the crook of one arm and the bottle in his other hand. The baby screwed up his little face and cut loose with an earsplitting wail.

  “Kara, wait,” Andrew said. “Hey, come back here. You can’t…Kara!”

  “Feed him,” she yelled.

  “Holy hell,” Andrew said, then placed the nipple of the bottle in the baby’s mouth, slowly, tentatively.

  The baby hesitated, then began to suckle.

  “Oh, thanks, kid,” Andrew said, his shoulders slumping with relief. “Go for it.” He frowned. “Why are you staring at me? Okay. Whatever. I’ll stare right back at you. How’s that?”

  Andrew began to feel his tightened muscles relax as the baby continued to eat, his eyes riveted on the man who was feeding him.

  He was holding a miracle, Andrew thought incredulously. Feeding him. Taking care of him. He had power tools that weighed more than this little guy. Man, he was small, so tiny, so perfect.

  Andrew eyed the rocking chair, looked at the baby again, then got to his feet slowly, hardly breathing. He settled onto the chair and began to rock gently back and forth.

  “This is better, don’t you think?” he said to the baby, who was still staring at him. “Comfy, huh? You know, sport, you drew a lousy hand coming into this big old world, but you’re going to be fine. You’re tough, a fighter, I can tell.

  “You’ll grow up to be an honorable man, who follows his dreams. And remember this—you can be anything you want to be if you work hard enough. Settle on a dream and hang on to it. Don’t let anything or anyone stop you from achieving what you’ve set out to do. Okay? Good.”

  The baby stopped eating and his eyes began to close as Andrew continued to rock, talking to the infant in a low rumbly voice.

  “When I was a kid…oh, maybe seven years old,” Andrew said, “I wanted a bike. That’s all I could think about. Man, did I want a bike. But my mother couldn’t afford to buy me one, so I shut up about it so she wouldn’t feel bad. You know what I mean?

  “Anyway, I hung on to that dream of having a bike and I worked my tail off. I mowed lawns, went to the park every day and collected cans, walked the neighbor’s dog, did all kinds of stuff. Every night before I went to bed I counted my money, watched it grow higher in the jar I kept it in.

  “Then guess what happened? My aunt Clara showed up out of the blue and she bought me a brand-new, candy-apple-red bike. But you know something, sport? I never liked that bike. Never felt like it was really mine. It didn’t make sense to me at the time, but when I was older I realized that I’d really wan
ted to earn enough, on my own, to buy myself a bike.

  “That’s an important lesson to learn. If you work hard for what you want, it will mean a lot more than if someone just hands it to you. Got that? No? I bored you right to sleep, huh? That’s all right. I’ll just hold you. You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you, because I’ve got you right here in my arms.”

  Kara blinked back her tears as she stood listening to Andrew as he talked quietly to the baby. She drank in the sight of the big strong man holding the helpless tiny infant, took every word Andrew said into her heart, her very soul.

  Oh, dear heaven, she thought frantically, she was falling apart, could feel fresh tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. But Andrew and her son looked so perfect together, so wonderful, and what Andrew was saying was so wise and so…so fatherly. Andrew was a natural-born daddy, he truly was. He—

  Oh, Kara, stop it, she ordered herself, taking a deep steadying breath. She was indulging in a silly fantasy, envisioning Andrew as the baby’s daddy and…what? As her husband? Good grief, that was insane. She hardly knew the man and here she was imagining the three of them as a family and…

  Yes, all right, she cared for Andrew. In the short time she’d known him he’d somehow had a major impact on her life, on her sense of self, on her womanly desires, wants and needs.

  It was probably due to the circumstances under which they’d met. The confrontation at the party, then the crisis of Uncle Robert’s heart attack, which had pushed everything into high gear, heightening emotions on all levels.

  That made sense. Yes, it certainly did. She wasn’t acting normally in regard to Andrew, because these weren’t ordinary events they were involved in.

  Once things calmed down, she’d be capable of viewing Andrew in the proper light, as she would any man she had just met. She would once again be in control of her mind, her heart and—oh, please—her body that was betraying her at every turn.

  Kara nodded, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and walked to the rocking chair.

  “Well,” she said quietly, “you two seem to be doing just super. Thank you, Andrew, for stepping in like this. The little preemie is fine now. My—the baby didn’t finish his bottle? That’s all right. Sometimes he doesn’t because he runs out of energy and…He’s sleeping so peacefully in your arms.”

  And she was babbling like an idiot, she admonished herself. Andrew was sitting there, looking at her son, not at her, calmly rocking back and forth as he held the baby, as though he did this every day of the week, while she was coming unglued. Kara MacAllister, get a grip.

  “I’ll change his diaper and put him back in the bassinet now,” she said.

  No! Andrew thought, his hold on the baby tightening slightly. Not yet. Not as long as this little guy was still filling him to overflowing with that same foreign warmth he’d felt last night when he’d seen Kara feeding him in the shadows. He wanted to savor the warmth, just for a while longer, store it away somewhere so he could remember it in the future.

  Oh, man, this was nuts. He knew, he’d discovered, that deep within him was a want and need to have a wife and child. A baby just like this one, a wife and mother just like—ah, hell, okay—just like Kara.

  But it wasn’t going to happen. Because to have those things, he had to strip himself bare, fall in love and be vulnerable to heartache and betrayal and…No way. No. He’d never do that. Not ever.

  Andrew looked up at Kara.

  “Sure, take him,” he said, striving for a casual tone of voice. “He’s zonked out, sleeping like a—” he shrugged “—baby. I don’t imagine these little guys care who holds or feeds them, as long as somebody gets the job done.”

  “You’re wrong, Andrew,” Kara said, reaching for the baby. “It matters.”

  Kara bent lower to retrieve the infant from Andrew, bringing her face just inches from his. He placed the baby in her arms, and she turned her head to gaze directly into Andrew’s eyes.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, “for taking such good care of him.”

  Andrew’s heart thundered as he resisted the urge to lean forward and claim Kara’s lips with his.

  “It was my pleasure,” he said, his voice husky. “Believe me.”

  Kara smiled slightly, then straightened and walked across the room with the baby to a changing table. Andrew reached over and placed the bottle on the stool, but didn’t release his hold on it for a long moment. He sighed and got to his feet.

  A few minutes later Kara went to the side door of the nursery and smiled back at Andrew.

  “Ready to get something to eat?” she said.

  Andrew glanced at the bassinet where Kara had placed the baby, then looked at her again.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’m a starving man.”

  He’d nurture his body with good wholesome food, Andrew thought, as he left the nursery with Kara. But his inner yearnings he would ignore until they faded, then were finally gone, never to return.

  Then his life would be back on track, the way he wanted it, the way it had always been.

  He’d be alone.

  And the chill that had just swept through him as he envisioned his dark solitary future could go straight to hell.

  “Andrew?” Kara said as they stepped into the elevator.

  “What!” he said sharply, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you. It’s been a long day, that’s all.”

  “That’s what I was just thinking,” Kara said. “I’m exhausted and I’m sure you are, too. The family is having pizza at Forrest and Jillian’s house so they can sit back and relax, rather than go to a noisy restaurant.

  “I…I was wondering if that sounded like a good idea to you, We could pick up a pizza and go to my apartment, just…chill out.”

  Andrew nodded. “That definitely appeals. I believe we could both use some quiet time. Things have been rather hectic, to say the least.”

  “Okay.”

  The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors opened on the main floor of the hospital, which was a hubbub of activity. They started across the lobby, then Andrew placed his hand on Kara’s arm to stop her.

  “Yes?” she said, looking up at him questioningly.

  “I was just wondering,” he said, “who will feed the baby the next time he’s hungry?”

  “The nurses will tend to him.”

  “Do they know not to jiggle him, not to make any sudden movements or loud noises?”

  “Yes, Andrew,” she said, smiling at him warmly. “They know.”

  “Right. Okay,” he said, nodding. “Let’s go. What do you like on your pizza?”

  Andrew Malone, Kara thought as a strange warmth tiptoed around her heart, if you make me fall in love with you before you walk out of my life, I’ll never forgive you for as long as I live.

  Chapter 8

  Andrew felt comfortable in Kara’s apartment the moment they entered. Her home looked like her, he decided, as he glanced around the large living room. It was decorated with a feminine touch without going overboard to the point that a man would feel he didn’t belong there.

  The furniture was warm oak. The sofa was upholstered in a big bright floral print, and two easy chairs were done in fabric that picked up colors from the bouquet on the sofa.

  There was a round, glass-top coffee table, matching end tables, and one wall held a tall bookcase that was filled with a wide variety of books, plus a multitude of framed photographs. On another wall was a home-entertainment center with a television, VCR and stereo.

  She used the second bedroom as an office, Kara said, as she prepared glasses of soda in the kitchen, which had gleaming white appliances. She had a computer and research books in there, as well as a desk that had belonged to her father, Ralph, before he retired from MacAllister Architects.

  She explained that her parents had moved to Florida when her father retired, as her mother, Mary, knew that Ralph would continually find excuses to head for the office if they stayed on in Ventura.

 
; Kara put some easy-listening music on the stereo, then they settled onto the carpeted floor next to the coffee table and began to eat the delicious take-out pizza that was, amazingly, still hot.

  Kara launched into a story about the MacAllister family’s “baby bet business.” She told him that for several years her cousin Forrest was the undefeated champion to the point that his on-the-mark predictions of the new arrivals were becoming a tad eerie.

  “I was in medical school in Boston at the time,” Kara said, “but my aunt Margaret kept me posted on the baby bet. Then Forrest made a prediction that everyone felt would be his undoing.” She took another bite of pizza.

  Andrew leaned toward her. “Chew fast. What did Forrest predict?”

  Kara swallowed, then sipped her soda. “Well, the whole family was gathered—at a pizza parlor, if I recall right—and Forrest arrived with his wife, Jillian, and a big paper shopping bag. No one could figure out what he was up to.”

  Andrew laughed. “You’re killing me here. What was in the bag?”

  “Three pink stuffed-toy bunnies. Forrest predicted that Jillian was going to have triplet girls. The guys were rubbing their hands together, totally convinced that at long last Forrest was going to pay out money, instead of collecting a fistful.”

  “And?”

  Kara laughed and shook her head. “Jillian had identical triplet girls.”

  “You’re kidding,” Andrew said, whooping with laughter. “Man, that is something.”

  “I know. The girls are so adorable. They’re five years old already. No, pardon me, they’re five and a half years old. They’ll correct you immediately if you don’t tack on that half year.”

  “So is Forrest still the baby bet champion?” Andrew said.

  “No. Hannah, who is married to Ted Sharpe, was expecting a baby when Ted met her. Forrest made his prediction, but Ted made his own, different from Forrest’s. Ted said that Hannah would have a baby girl on Christmas Day. Not only did she do exactly that, but Ted delivered the baby before the paramedics could arrive. Forrest was dethroned as the baby bet champion, big time. But the story doesn’t end there.”