by Lisa Plumley
“I’ll just slip out while the door’s open, then.” Which will be a lot safer for both of us. She strode ahead of him toward the reception area as though the devil himself were at her heels.
In a sense, he was—dressed in shades of uncertainty and packing the ability to make her lose her head over a simple kiss. Really, falling for Jack all over again would only lead to disaster, Katie reminded herself. Already, she’d nearly forgotten the party tonight. Her friends would be waiting for her at Boondoggles, drinks in hand and grins in place. They’d be the perfect remedy…for her stupidly susceptible heart.
“Uh-oh,” Jack said from behind her.
“What’s wrong?”
In the tastefully decorated reception area now, Katie looked past the front desk and upholstered client seating. Past the company’s decorated artificial Christmas tree. And past the holiday greeting cards taped to the area’s glass front wall and door. She glimpsed a woman standing on the threshold beyond.
Of average height and slender build, the woman was wearing a belly-baring tank top and ankle-length skirt in Army fatigue shades, with a gold arm bracelet coiled near her bicep. Her blonde dreadlocks framed a sweet, worried-looking face. As Katie watched, the woman raised her foot and aimed another combat-booted kick at the front door.
She had to. She didn’t have a hand free to knock in the traditional way. Her arms were filled with a molded plastic baby carrier—and it, Katie could see, was filled with wriggling, kicking baby, judging by the pudgy fists and tiny booted feet visible above the padded rim.
“That’s not ‘uh-oh.’” Wrinkling her brow, Katie glanced at Jack, who’d caught up with her. “That’s the boss’s nanny.”
“And that’s my baby cousin with her. What are they doing here at this hour?”
He punched the security code into the panel beside the door, then opened it with a greeting for the woman. Two minutes later, Jack was still carrying in assorted pastel baby paraphernalia—bags, blankets, a folded mesh thing Katie recognized as a portable crib from the last baby shower she’d attended. He stacked everything against the reception desk while the nanny, Sierra, rushed inside.
In a practiced gesture, she braced the baby carrier against one hip, hurrying past Katie. The two women passed in opposite directions—Sierra intent on whatever had brought her to the office, Katie eager to leave Brennan Homes behind.
A babyish babble came from the carrier. Katie hesitated. She dropped her Santa handbag and things onto a nearby chair. Intrigued despite the peppermint martini she was probably missing at that very minute, she peeked inside.
“Oh, what an adorable little outfit!” Fascinated, Katie leaned nearer (an interest in fashion was her only real weakness), examining the baby girl’s clothes. Her diminutive red corduroy jumper and Christmas green T-shirt were embroidered with gingerbread people, holiday stars, and Nutcracker figurines. “This is so Baby Gap. How cute!”
“You think so?” Sierra reached into the carrier and unfastened some mysterious-looking buckles and straps. She lifted the baby—Belle was her name, Katie remembered—and cradled her against her chest. “Here. Have a closer look.”
Then she bundled baby Belle right into Katie’s arms, blankets, boots, teeny Gap clothes, and all, then went to speak with Jack.
Hands on hips, Jack surveyed the pile of baby stuff he’d created at the base of the reception desk. Someone, somewhere, had to be experiencing a serious shortage of pink plastic. There couldn’t possibly be any left over after the collection his Uncle Gil had amassed for his one and only baby daughter.
He wondered if Amber, Gil’s wife of eleven months and Jack’s new step-aunt (if such a designation existed), ever got tired of living in a Bazooka-colored world. If she did, it hardly would have mattered. Uncle Gil doted on his only child, and seemed determined Belle have the best of everything.
Apparently, “the best” only came in shades of Bubble Yum, Pepto-Bismol, cotton-candy, and the aforementioned Bazooka.
Not that Amber suffered in any way. Gil Brennan was crazy about her, too. How else could a person explain hair implants, beer belly liposuction, InstaWite teeth brightening, and not one but two Porsche Roadsters over the course of one man’s fifty-second year? Jack was certain his uncle loved his young bride, and she in turn, was a wonderful, enthusiastic mother. Which brought him around to …
“Jack! Thank God you’re here!” Sierra tugged his shirt, her frantic energy leaping between them. Her dreadlocks whirled as she came to a stop. He saw that she no longer held the baby carrier. “I’ve been going out of my mind! Gil and Amber’s flight’s been snowed in, and mine leaves in just under an hour, and you know how insane Sky Harbor will be at this time of year, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to make it!”
“Okay, slow down—”
“You’re third on the emergency contact list, but everyone else has already left town for the holidays. You’re it!”
“I’m it? What do you—”
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed movement. Katie walked carefully across the room, headed for the office Christmas tree. Holding six-month-old Belle in her arms, she smiled down at the baby, gently cooing something about…nicely coordinated booties? Babywear trends? The wearability of red corduroy? Shaking his head, Jack refocused his attention on the nanny.
“Exactly what’s the matter? Uncle Gil’s flight got delayed?”
“Snowed in. In Switzerland.” Sierra wrung her hands, flashing short, purple-manicured nails. “He and Amber went for a ski trip with friends. They thought they’d be back by now, but their flight’s on hold until the storm lifts. And I’ve got a flight back to Austin to visit my family in—” She consulted her vintage Swatch. “—fifty-six minutes.”
“But what about—”
“Belle? That’s where you come in, and not a moment too soon. I’m so glad you’re here. I should have known I’d find you at work.”
The wry, knowing twist of her lips niggled at him. So what if he was at the office a lot? It wasn’t a crime.
But putting jingle bells on a baby’s booties ought to be, Jack thought as Katie passed by again and the merry sound of Belle’s “accessories” reached him. If Sierra had been listening to that all day, no wonder she was rattled.
“Someone needs to take care of Belle while I’m gone,” the nanny went on doggedly, “and like I said, you’re third on the emergency contact list. So you’re it.”
“I didn’t even know there was an emergency contact list,” Jack confessed. “Much less that I was on it.” But he was prepared to step up to the plate manfully. “So how long before the number one and number two contact people get back? An hour or two? I can handle that.”
Semi-doubtfully, he looked at Katie and Belle again. What he saw reassured him. Now the woman he’d almost kissed a few minutes ago was sticking out her tongue and making silly faces for Belle. She looked gorgeous, lighthearted and playful. The baby was probably more fun than he’d realized, if she could distract Katie from the soirée she was obviously (and sexily) dressed to attend.
“Not an hour or two,” Sierra said. “A day or two. Everyone else has already left town for Christmas, and I can’t stay.”
“A day?”
“Or two. Maybe, possibly, three. At the outside. These winter storms can be pretty—”
“Three?” He swallowed. Hard. “I’ve never—”
“Arrgh!”
The nanny scrunched her dreadlocks in her hands, looking frazzled. Suddenly, Jack wondered if she’d been wearing that wild, twisted hairstyle at all when she woke up that morning.
“Please, Jack. Please. Please take care of Belle until Gil and Amber get back from their trip. She’s a breeze, I promise. You’ll hardly notice her at all.”
“Well….” Jack caught sight of Katie and the baby again. He heard a murmured, “Very stylish holiday hair bow,” and smiled in spite of everything. Visually, Jack measured Belle’s size. Maybe two feet tall, he estimated. Probably pretty easy to handle
. Sort of like a football.
He was pretty good with footballs. He played pick-up games with his buddies every weekend.
No, this was nuts. “I haven’t had much experience with babies.”
“You’re her older cousin. You have a natural aptitude,” Sierra insisted. “Plus, I brought all Belle’s stuff with me. Bottles, baby food, two jumbo packs of diapers, a porta-crib, spare clothes, everything. You won’t need so much as a can of Enfamil.”
Good thing. Because Jack didn’t know what the hell that was.
As though she sensed him wavering, Sierra picked up speed. “I have all the contact information right here.” She pushed a pile of papers into his hands and started going over them. “Gil and Amber’s itinerary, phone numbers, flight info, hotel, you name it. Here’s Belle’s schedule—just a rough estimate, of course. Babies don’t exactly punch a time clock.”
She laughed, as though the very thought were uproarious. Jack wrinkled his brow and set the papers on the reception desk for safekeeping. Everything was happening so fast. All he’d wanted was a few days to get some work done, away from the holiday craziness everyone succumbed to at this time of year. Now he was…a babysitter?
To his left, Katie began singing “Holly Jolly Christmas” to Belle. The soft sound of her voice soothed Jack, too. He’d had no idea super-sociable party girl Katie was so enamored of babies. Or so adept with them.
“So you’ll do it?” Looking up at him, Sierra bit her lip.
Her worried gaze penetrated the confusion surrounding him. Sierra really needed him, Jack realized. More importantly, so did his tiny cousin Belle. Faced with that fact, he didn’t have the heart to say no. No matter how out-of-his-depth this whole thing felt.
You’ll be fine, Jack assured himself. He’d always been good at whatever he tackled, had mastered challenge after challenge during his thirty-one years of living. And really—how much trouble could one mostly-toothless, two-foot little person really be?
“Sure, I’ll do it.”
“You will?” Sierra whooped and hugged him. “Thank you, Jack. You won’t regret this, I swear.”
Rapidly, the nanny reviewed a few more details with him. Then she said good-bye to Belle, giving the baby a fond kiss. With that accomplished, Sierra nodded toward the Bazooka pink pileup, gave Jack an enormous, grateful smile, and headed for the door.
There, she paused, a suddenly-serious expression on her face. “I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t believe you could handle it, you know. If you get stuck, just let your instincts guide you. You’ll be terrific.”
Jack wished he were as sure as Sierra. He nodded reassuringly, though, and raised his hand in farewell. “We’ll be fine. I’ll teach Belle how to play tackle football or something. We’ll stay busy.”
Frowning, the nanny hesitated.
“Kidding. Have a good trip.”
Sierra scrunched her nose. She shook out her car keys and prepared to leave, blowing kisses to Belle.
“Merry Christmas!” Katie called. Smiling as she held the little girl, she encouraged Belle to uncurl her chubby baby fingers in a tiny good-bye wave.
Seconds later, the door closed behind the nanny. Silence fell, then was broken by the sound of Belle babbling. Probably, “oogoo, oogoo” was Baby for “good-bye.” Or maybe it was Baby for “Help! This guy’s an amateur!” Jack really didn’t know.
Determined to think positively, he turned to Katie. At the same moment, she turned to him. Wearing a carefree look that could only be enjoyed by people whose plans went as they planned, she crossed the room. Carrying a baby, he couldn’t help but notice, didn’t strip any of the natural va-va-voom from her stride. She still managed to look like every fantasy he’d ever had, all rolled into one.
Before he could blink, his fantasy carefully slipped a cooing Belle into his arms. His infant cousin pushed three fingers into her drooling mouth and performed an aerial cha-cha with one foot. Jingle bells chimed. Babbling, Belle gazed up at him.
Charmed, Jack gazed back. Hey, this could be all right. Fun, even. Yeah. Just him and Belle, together.
“Well, I guess that’s it.” Nearby, Katie had gathered her things and was pulling a cell phone from her glittery Santa purse. She breezed toward the door, obviously intent on getting to the party she was dressed for. “Good luck, Jack. Byeee, Belle!”
She blew a kiss and opened the door. Panic swept over Jack. At the same instant, Belle scrunched up her face and let loose a foghorn-sized wail.
Stricken, he held the baby at arm’s length. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do. “Wait! You can’t just leave me—leave us!—like this!”
Katie shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I didn’t agree to babysit, you did. Good luck, Jack. And Merry Christmas!”
Chapter Three
Katie made it all of four steps.
On the last, she paused outside the Brennan Homes offices. She gazed at Jack through the glass wall dividing them. His nervous expression as he awkwardly held Belle at arm’s length was oddly endearing. Intriguing, too. Drawn by it, Katie squinted thoughtfully.
His expression looked nervous, sure. But it also held a bit of Jack’s trademark determination. For that, Katie had to admire him.
The baby’s opening wail had become full-fledged crying— crying Jack was obviously having trouble soothing. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. Katie could see him earnestly speaking to his tiny cousin—probably telling her everything would be okay, the same way he’d reassured Sierra. Jack was a stand-up guy. And he was clearly out of his depth.
So, clearly, was Katie. Because if she was actually considering what she thought she was considering—
No, she told herself. There was a Christmas margarita with her name on it waiting a few blocks away. Red and green holiday tortilla chips with Boondoggle’s special chipotle salsa. Friends by the dozen, to make her night as festive as it could possibly be. She didn’t want, she didn’t need—
Beyond the glass, Jack gingerly lifted Belle. His elbows crooked to the sides as he brought the baby nearer. With slow and reverent care, he kissed her forehead.
At the sight, Katie just…melted.
Okay, so there was something about a big, macho guy cradling a baby that got to her, she admitted to herself. Especially if that big, macho guy was the fella she was still secretly smitten with. Big deal.
For a moment longer, Katie deliberated. Then, decisively, she dialed up her friend Maya. Dismay twisted through her as the raucous sounds of Boondoggles in full holiday-gala mode crackled into the receiver.
She’d probably live to regret this. Her plans, since she’d decided not to brave the annual slog-through-the-airport-Christmas craziness to visit her far-flung family, had simply been to spend the season with her other, self-made and very close, insta-family: her friends. Now, those plans were about to change.
A few minutes later, Katie had finished telling Maya to have fun at the party without her. She put away her cell phone and drew a deep breath. Then, with thoughts of that tender Jack-to-Belle kiss still whirling in her mind, she returned to the office.
At her entrance, Jack turned his head. Trying to seem as though she had no doubts at all about this hare-brained scheme, Katie slung her Santa bag, suit jacket, and spare shoes on a chair. Then she put her hands on her hips, surveying the out-of-control scene in front of her.
“All right, I’ll help you,” she announced.
Jack smiled. “We both thank you, I’m sure.”
Seeing the relief in his face made Katie grin (a penchant for rescuing friends in need was her only real weakness). Seeing Belle turn her head—fat tears glistening under the fluorescent lighting—and perk up happily at the sound of her voice made her laugh out loud.
“After all,” Katie continued, rubbing the baby’s little back, “I figure you’ll need someone around to make sure you don’t zone out during ‘Sportscenter’ and try to give Belle the remote control for a teething ring.”
Teething ring? asked Jack’s blank expression. Shaking her head, Katie helped him hold Belle more like a baby and less like a potentially-terrifying sack of potatoes. She might not know much about babies, but she did know nobody liked being treated like an Idaho Russet.
Murmuring a soothing comment about Belle’s cute lacy socks, she wiped the tears from the baby’s pink blotchy cheeks, then absently dried her fingers on her scarlet dress.
Jack gazed thoughtfully at the damp prints near her hip. “You’ll miss your party.”
Katie made a dismissive sound. “I’ve got more where that one came from,” she said, waving her hand. “A holiday masquerade, two tree-trimming bashes, a cocktail party, one dinner party, a friend’s December birthday, and a Christmas Eve brunch on Saturday. One event for every night this week, and two for Saturday. I figure it’s practically a person’s holiday duty to make the most of Christmastime.”
In Jack’s arms, Belle gave a shuddering sigh. She yawned noisily, her tiny mouth a perfect “O.” Without seeming to think about it at all, Jack rearranged his arms so he could stroke his fingers over her silky blonde hair.
“You make the most of everything, and you know it. It’s one of your charms.”
“And pointing out the obvious is one of yours.” Katie grinned. “Holding babies, however, is not. Not yet. Here, let me show you.”
With Jack’s help, she eased the baby into her own arms. “You have to hold on tightly enough to be secure,” she explained, “but loosely enough to protect your fragile load. It’s kind of like…holding a new Fendi bag while the salesperson is hovering nearby. You follow?”
“Not really. Who’s Fendi?”
“Har, har.”
“Really. You want me to hold Belle like a purse?”
“Well, that’s how it was explained to me.”
At the aforementioned baby shower, that is. One of her college pals had brought along her three-month-old son, and all the women had taken turns holding him.
