The Playboy's Baby

by Stewart, JM

  “How was the drive?” he asked.

  She opened her eyes and turned to lean back against the counter. “It was good. You were right. The Escalade is much better in the snow than my car.”

  “I won’t say I told you so.”

  The teasing tone of his voice had her envisioning a smile, but she couldn’t muster a response to match. She wanted to ask him to talk to her, to chatter at her, until the warm familiar rumble of his voice wrapped itself around her. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine him here beside her, could almost see herself within the safety of his embrace. The fierceness with which she wanted it made her tremble.

  Silence rang over the phone line while she struggled not to say all of those things to him, to admit how much she needed him right then.

  “You okay?” His voice drifted low and quiet in her ear. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

  Somehow she wasn’t surprised he’d noticed.

  “Just…having trouble adjusting to an empty house.” She sighed and pushed away from the counter, wandering out of the kitchen and into the living room. “The house has too much of Janey in it. Reminders are everywhere. Without Annie, the entire place feels too quiet. How is she?”

  “She’s fine. I dropped her off with my mom about an hour ago. I called her right before I called you, and Ma said she gobbled up her dinner and they were having a grand time playing together. Says she hasn’t fussed once.”

  That was a relief, but some part of her still worried anyway. She missed that sweet smiling face, missed the sounds of her cooing and babbling.

  The sound of the music suddenly grew louder on the other end of the phone. “Hang on.”

  Rustling drifted across the line like something brushed the receiver, and another voice came from a distance, low and muffled, the words indistinguishable. While she waited, she moved into the living room and sank onto the sofa, tucking one leg beneath her.

  To someone else, he said, “I’ll be right down.” Then to her, “What time do you go to bed?”

  “Nine or ten, why?”

  “I’m afraid I have to get off for a bit.” Regret tinged his tone. “They need me downstairs, but I’ll call you before you go to sleep, okay?”

  “All right.” The thought provided a reassurance. She hung up the phone, the knot in her chest easing. She shouldn’t, but she looked forward to the phone call, to the soothing sound of his voice.

  Ten o’clock came and Emma couldn’t sleep. That small part of her waited for her cell phone to ring. When it finally did, her heart took off at a giddy little gallop and she snatched the phone up before it could ring a second time.

  Dillon’s quiet laugh echoed across the line. “What were you doing, sitting on the phone?”

  Heat crept into her cheeks. “Yeah, kind of.”

  His voice sobered. “That bad, huh?”

  “First day is always the worst, I guess.” She shrugged.

  A beat of silence passed. “Close your eyes.”

  She rolled over in bed and tucked the phone between her ear and the pillow. “Ok.”

  Another beat of silence.

  “Now imagine me there with you.” His voice drifted over the phone like a caress, a low, husky rumble that sent tiny shivers racing up and down her spine.

  The image rose in her mind, of her first night back in town, sitting in his office with him. The way he pulled her out of her seat and into his embrace. She felt again his strong arms wrapped around her, the warmth and solidness of his body. The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat sounded through the recesses of her memory. The image didn’t heat her up the way she expected. Once again his affect on her senses surprised her. The images and sensations slid around her like a warm blanket, soft and soothing, melting the tension from her body.

  “Does that help?”

  “Yes.” More than she had words to tell him. She bit down on her bottom lip and hesitated. “Do me a favor?”

  A low creak sounded over the line. “Anything.”

  “Talk to me? The sound of your voice helps. Do you have time?”

  “Yeah. I have time.”

  He spent the next half hour filling her with tidbits about the club, the workers, and the minute details of his night. Coming from anyone else, his words might have been boring, but coming from him, she felt engrossed in his world. The simple sound of his voice on the other end of the line wrapped around her until she almost felt him right beside her, laying with her in the dark.

  When she found herself falling asleep she forced herself to open her eyes, shattering the fantasy. “Dillon?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow. Same time.”

  * * *

  All kinds of warning bells went off in his head when Dillon sank into the chair in his office and dialed Emma’s number Friday night. He was getting in over his head with her. He ought to cut the ties now, stop this before it went too far, because it was entirely too easy to talk to her, to let go. He told her things he hadn’t intended. Like how much he missed her being in the house. The soft sound of her voice tugged at him, drew him in, and wrapped around him. It had been a long time since he’d had the simple luxury of talking to someone who listened, really listened, and he missed that.

  They had one such conversation the night before. Listening to the phone ring, his mind drifted back. It started when she asked the one question he’d dreaded all day. “How’d your first day with Annie go?”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “I really was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

  “Something happened.” The alarm in her tone knotted his gut.

  “No, I promise. She’s fine. Just…first day foibles.” He let his head fall back against the chair and stared at the tiled ceiling. “You make this stuff look easy. I know we practiced, but she definitely does better for you.”

  “We should have practiced more. So, what went wrong?”

  “Only everything.” He expelled a pent-up breath, relief flooding his system. “Breakfast was a disaster. She squirms constantly and grabs the spoon, because she wants to feed herself, and if I don’t feed her fast enough, she gets mad. I’m pretty sure the two of us ended up wearing more than she ate.”

  His gut roiled with anxiousness, sure at any moment Emma would decide he wasn’t fit to take care of his daughter, and part of him would agree.

  Instead, she laughed, warm and alluring. The sound was music to his ears. “It’s rather like trying to feed an octopus actually.”

  Relief flooded his system. “Exactly. Lunch wasn’t any better, and naptime was another nightmare. Took me an hour to finally get her down. I managed not to fall asleep this time. And diapers. Ugh. I know we practiced, but I still managed to get a few backwards, and then didn’t notice until I went to take it off again.” He was fairly certain at that point he deserved the idiot of the day award. Who needed directions to put on a diaper? He sighed and lowered his voice. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”

  Something rustled on the other end of the phone. His mind filled with visions of her rolling over in bed. Probably had the quilts tucked under her chin.

  “Give yourself a break. It’s a learning experience. You can’t expect everything to go right from the start. You’re both adjusting to each other. She’s used to me. I’ve been there since she was born. You’re someone new. You’re doing very well with her, all things considered. Tomorrow will be easier. Now you know what to expect.”

  The warm, reassuring tone of her voice eased the knot in his gut. He shook his head. “I sure hope so.”

  “Tell me what else happened.”

  So the conversation went. He talked, she listened. He enjoyed the sound of her laughter, which made him tell her all the embarrassing tidbits he ought to keep to himself. Like bath time that night.

  By the time they hung up last night, he felt close to her. His wish came true; she let her guard down and him in.

  Tonight, he hadn’t anticipated getting to call her. It
was Friday and the club was packed beyond belief. The more the night wore on, the more he craved the sound of her voice. When a lull in the crowd opened up five minutes ago, he couldn’t resist and slipped up to his office.

  “Hi, Dillon.” The sound of Emma’s voice slid around him with all the ease of a familiar lover, warm and entirely too enticing, drawing him back to the present.

  He leaned back in his chair, something in his gut easing he didn’t want to contemplate. “Hey.”

  “I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you tonight.” Her low, sleepy voice drew up the image, of her, lying in bed, wearing that nightgown that made him crazy.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No. I wasn’t sleeping.” She paused, her voice lowering. “I hoped I’d hear from you.”

  Her soft admission left him conflicted. It didn’t seem to matter Emma wasn’t the type of woman to use someone. The thought of giving out his heart wanted to send him running for the hills. To hear that she looked forward to their talks the way he did would no doubt get him into a world of trouble, because she was damn hard to resist. How many women had he fallen for, and gotten his heart crushed by, who’d proven the same? Too many to count.

  The sound of Emma’s voice slid around him like a warm caress anyway and every muscle tightened in response. He craved the feel of her body against him and stayed on the phone anyway. Simply because it was Emma. She wasn’t like other women.

  “I can’t stay on long. It’s a rowdy crowd tonight and I’m still short-handed, but I couldn’t resist. Did you have a good day?”

  She hesitated, and then expelled a heavy breath. “Not really.”

  “I’m sorry. How come?” Even worse was the sudden, intense desire to somehow make her day better.

  “My boss informed me this morning I’m getting laid off. The company’s downsizing. Due to the economy, they can’t afford to keep all of us. They’re letting people go according to seniority. Three of us are being laid off.”

  Call him callous, but he couldn’t help thinking she’d provided him with an answer to a prayer. “Ouch. You’ve been there for a while. How long do you have?”

  “Two weeks.”

  His mind raced ahead. Plenty of time to get her moved into town. “Well, my offer still stands.”

  She was silent for a moment. “You know, there’s an entire town full of people you could hire. Why me?”

  He sighed, thought about giving her another excuse, and then decided to be honest with her. “Because I trust you. Because I want Annie in town, with me. Permanently.”

  Silence rose like a mountain between them, the ease gone, and the air suddenly heavy with tension. For several heartbeats, neither said anything.

  “Am I just a means to an end? A road block to get out of the way?”

  The harsh, suspicious tone to her voice made him cringe and he let out a heavy breath.

  “Not even close.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I won’t take her away from you. I couldn’t do that. That wouldn’t be fair to you. So, I thought of something that would benefit all three of us.”

  True, her taking this job would get her, and Annie, back into town, but it had become about more than just a need to keep his daughter nearby. He had this overwhelming need to not only take care of Annie, but Emma too.

  Moreover, he wanted her to know he’d always be there for her. Emma needed someone to care for her. He wanted to be that someone. Wanted it with a fierceness that scared the hell out of him, but one he couldn’t deny anymore than he could deny himself his next breath.

  Not that he could tell her any of that. “Just…promise me you’ll seriously consider it.”

  “I promise. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Yeah, he looked forward to that too. To finally getting to see her, to look into her eyes. “Night, Em.”

  “Night, Dillon.”

  Chapter Eight

  After having spent the last three nights falling asleep to the sound of his voice, the thought of seeing Dillon again left Emma a tangle of emotions. The entire drive back to Hastings Saturday morning had a knot of guilt firmly in the pit of her stomach. She shouldn’t look forward to seeing him. The man was forbidden, completely off limits. On some level, she knew that.

  Yet, underneath it all, beat an emotion that refused let go—need. A connection had grown between them that hadn’t been there before. After having spent the last three nights lying in the dark talking to him, she felt closer to him than ever. She’d never had that kind of a connection in any of her romantic relationships. Fear of the past repeating itself always held her back, convinced her over the years that family and work provided all she needed. Janey had always been the one she talked to when she needed to confide in someone. That she had this connection with Dillon, of all people, flat out floored her.

  Right or wrong, she needed to see the glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

  When she actually pulled into the driveway, those giddy happy little butterflies began to dance in her stomach. Dillon had told her to let herself in, but her hands trembled so much getting the key in the lock proved a challenge. Finally, opening the front door and stepping inside, she held her breath in anticipation of seeing him.

  “There she is.”

  Emma turned her head toward the sound of Dillon’s voice. He sat in a chair beside the kitchen table, Annie in her high chair in front of him. He held a spoonful of something out to her waiting mouth. Watching the two of them, Emma had the sudden sense of having come home. A sense of rightness.

  She immediately scanned Annie, relieved to see she looked not only okay, but there was a happy little sparkle in her eyes. She bounced in the seat, waving her arms at Emma to be picked up.

  “How was the drive?” Dillon turned in the chair to look back at her, a soft smile on his mouth.

  The instant their gazes collided, the glimmer of recognition, of the last three nights and the almost intimate conversations, jumped out at her. She heard again the quiet huskiness of his voice, the things he shared with her, felt again the closeness between them. All reflected back at her from the depths of his dark eyes. The way his gaze reached out to hers said without a doubt he looked forward to seeing her too.

  “Uneventful.” She closed the door behind her.

  The memories flooded her. With them came the need to touch him, to connect, physically. She felt a near overwhelming desire to press herself along the length of that tall frame and feel his arms wrap around her. To feel the warmth and safety she found there.

  Dillon broke the gaze first. Turning back to Annie, he scooped another spoonful of what looked like applesauce and deposited it into her open mouth. “You didn’t scratch my car, did you?”

  His voice held a teasing lilt that set her heart flip-flopping and immediately inspired a grin.

  “Dented the rear fender.” Barely managing to keep a straight face, she turned to leave her coat and boots by the door. “Backed into a light pole.”

  His head jerked in her direction. His eyes narrowed. He studied her a moment, then relaxed and turned to offer Annie another spoonful. “You’re a bad liar.”

  She gave a quiet laugh. “So I’ve been told.”

  She crossed the room, stopping at his side. He made a goofy face at Annie, who rewarded him with a big messy grin. It was a sight that warmed her heart, seeing that soft side of him. It didn’t matter how many times he showed it to her; it awed her every time.

  Annie waved her hands again, grunting to be picked up. Emma took one chubby little fist in hers and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the aroma of baby shampoo. She was clean and happy. Dillon wasn’t wearing hardly any baby food this time, which meant he managed to get most of it into Annie.

  “You’re doing very well with her. I’m impressed. She usually doesn’t take to new people or new situations, but you she seems to like.”

  He darted a glance at her, one brow arched, a self-pleased grin spreading across his mouth. “I won’t even say it
.”

  She smiled again, in spite of herself, and gave a slow shake of her head. “Seems I owe you a kiss then.”

  He turned his head to stare at her, heat flashing sudden and intense in the depths of those dark eyes. For an extended moment, every intimate tidbit they said to each other over the last three days and the intimacy they shared hovered in the air between them.

  Without another word, he set the now empty jar of baby food down on the table, then picked up a washcloth and wiped Annie’s face. Once clean, he stood and unbuckled her from the high chair.

  “She’s due for a nap.” He lifted Annie out of the chair, grabbed a bottle off the table, and turned to Emma. “Would you like the honor?”

  The question was an innocent one. She missed Annie and he knew it. His gaze burned into hers, tension and desire skipping between them. The overwhelming need to press along the length of his body and slip into his embrace returned. The need to taste his mouth again was so fierce her heart pounded, her breath coming harsh and shallow.

  With trembling hands, she took Annie from him and went to sit on the sofa. She basked in the moment, committing every coo, every tiny smile to memory. Getting to hold Annie after three long days, the hard ball of anxiety in her stomach finally eased.

  Belly full, it didn’t take long before Annie’s eyes closed in slumber. After depositing her into the crib and closing the bedroom door, Emma moved back into the living room. Dillon stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edge, his gaze on the floor.

  He looked up when she entered, and their gazes collided. That sweet tension rose over the room and zipped across the space between them.