The Boss and the Baby

by Leigh Michaels

  He ignored her. “I’ve also started an account into which I’ll deposit the amount I’d have paid over the last four years.”

  Molly gritted her teeth and fought a battle with her pride. She had supported her daughter for nearly four years and she could continue to do so. But was it fair to Bailey to turn down the sort of security his nest egg would represent? “All right,” she said reluctantly. “But I want you to know right now that I won’t draw a dollar out of it. It’ll be Bailey’s college fund.”

  Luke shrugged. “Dad’s already taken care of that. He made the arrangements this morning. Those are my terms, Molly. My name goes on her birth certificate. We agree to joint custody. We have an equal voice in what happens to her. I have free access to her any time. And of course I pay child support.”

  “And if I don’t agree, you take me to court.”

  Luke said genially, “And wear you down until you can’t afford to fight any more.”

  “That’s blackmail, Luke.”

  “I prefer to think of it as the stick of dynamite it takes to change your mind.” He picked up his wineglass. “It’s reality, Molly. Make your choice.”

  But she had none, and both of them knew it. Molly took a deep breath and nodded.

  Luke raised his wineglass. “To our daughter. When shall we tell her, do you think?”

  Luke was more nervous about facing a three-year-old than he’d been in any other situation in his life. Being called on the carpet during his teenage years, watching his first autopsy in medical school, committing himself to a ten-million-dollar deal—none of them could compare.

  It didn’t help that their conversation with Bailey had to be put off till the next day. She’d been asleep when they got back to Oakwood, and Molly said, “It won’t do any good to try to wake her, because she wouldn’t remember a thing.”

  So he had reluctantly carried his drowsy daughter to Molly’s car and spent the night rehearsing what he’d say to her.

  They’d agreed to take her for a drive up the lakeshore late the following afternoon, to a beach where there would be complete privacy and no interruptions. That had been Molly’s suggestion. Luke suspected it was because she had no more idea how Bailey might react than he did. She’d never admit it, though. He was certain of that.

  He went home early and changed into jeans and running shoes, but when he went to the makeshift office to see when Molly would be free, he was startled to find the door open, the enormous desk in pieces in the hallway and Mrs. Ekberg stripping the sheets off the hospital bed. “What happened?” he asked.

  The housekeeper shrugged. “Don’t ask me. He called a crew in to move most of the boxes to the storage room and told me he was well enough now to work in the library, so I could do what I liked in here. I thought I’d better leap at the chance.”

  “I can see that,” Luke said.

  “And he told me to make up the green bedroom at the far end of the hall for him because he’s moving down there.”

  “What? Why’s he giving up his bedroom?”

  “That’s what I asked him. He just gave me that look of his that tells you to mind your own business and went off. He was whistling,” Mrs. Ekberg added darkly. “Miss Molly said to tell you she’d be with you in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks,” Luke said absently.

  He found his father in the library with a legal document spread out on the desk blotter.

  “Molly’s changing her clothes,” Warren said.

  “I heard. Mrs. Ekberg thinks you’ve flipped.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the master of the house is moving out of the master suite, that’s why.”

  “Oh, that.” He tapped the document. “I’m deeding the house over to you.”

  Luke’s heart plunged to his toes. “Dad—you’re not that sick. Are you?”

  “Doesn’t matter, it’s time. So since I’m not going to be the owner anymore, I’m vacating the main bedroom.” He added airily, “You’ll notice, however, that before I sign the papers I’m settling myself firmly in a room just down the hall.” He grinned and laid the document aside. “So what are you and Molly up to today?”

  You and Molly. So that was the way the wind had shifted. Well, Warren would get the message sooner or later that Luke and Molly weren’t a combination and weren’t ever going to be.

  “Luke!” Bailey called, and flung herself on him. He tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and let his gaze roam over her mother. He’d been right about the jeans, he decided. With her long, slim legs Molly looked great in them. Though there might be other outfits that would do as well...

  “Don’t get any ideas, Warren.” Molly’s voice was crisp.

  Luke frowned. Did she need to be quite so curt? Surely there was no need to fuss about Warren’s crazy notions right now.

  “Haven’t had an idea in years,” Warren murmured. “Have a good time—whatever you have planned.”

  They drove a few miles up the scenic highway toward Two Harbors and pulled off to walk along a deserted pebbly beach to look for agates. A little later, Molly sat on a driftwood log, cuddled Bailey close beside her and told the child that she now had the father she’d asked for.

  Bailey looked from her mother to Luke. Her face was solemn, her forehead wrinkled as if she didn’t quite understand. “You’re going to be my daddy?”

  Luke nodded. He felt as if he was taking a vow. As carefully as if she were a bubble, he stretched out a forefinger to touch his daughter’s hand. “I’m very proud to be your daddy, Bailey.”

  Bailey’s face cleared. “Okay.” She bounced from her seat on the log, opened her sweaty little hand and dumped her trove of agates into Luke’s palm. “I’m ready to go,” she announced. “I want a date supper.”

  “Dinner date,” Molly corrected, but Bailey was gone, plunging across the sand toward where they’d left the car.

  Bewildered, Luke looked at Molly. “That’s it?” he murmured. “That’s all she’s got to say about it?”

  “What else is there?” She stood up and dusted off the seat of her jeans. “Congratulations, Mr. Hudson. You’re a father.”

  He knew she’d meant the words to be ironic, but somewhere in the middle her voice caught. He spotted tears as she turned away.

  He didn’t know how to comfort her. He didn’t even know if he wanted to try. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d robbed her of her child. The whole point was that he didn’t intend to.

  Still, she’d been incredibly generous, handling the situation as she had. She could have made it all very difficult.

  “Molly.” He put his arm around her shoulders and was startled at how small and fragile she felt.

  For a moment she stood still, her head bent, her face turned but pressed against his arm. Then she stepped away from him and walked to the car. She looked very much alone.

  Luke lifted Bailey into her safety seat. “Now, how about that dinner date? Where are we going?”

  She looked at him as if he’d sprung a cog and said, “KidzPlace.”

  Luke raised an eyebrow and turned to Molly. “She sounds as if there’s nowhere else.”

  “There isn’t, m her mind.” Molly fastened her seat belt.

  He was mildly annoyed that she hadn’t looked at him even once since she’d sat with Bailey on the driftwood log.

  “If you’ll just drop me at Oakwood before you go to the restaurant, Luke—”

  Bailey said, “I want Mommy, too.”

  He saw a flicker of pain cross Molly’s face. “Honey, sometimes... Sometimes Daddy wants to just be with you.”

  It hurt her to say that, he thought. But she’d done it anyway. For Bailey’s sake, of course, but still...

  Bailey thrust lower lip out.

  “But this isn’t one of those times,” Luke said. “Of course your mommy’s going too, princess.”

  “Please don’t, Luke.” Her voice was so low he had to lean toward her to hear. “Don’t encourage her to believe that we’re a
family—because we’re not.”

  “We’re going to have a hamburger, Molly,” he said dryly. “Not a major life-style change.”

  She didn’t say any more. But she still didn’t look at him.

  Between her rubbery chicken bits and KidzPlace’s enormous indoor playground, Bailey was in heaven. She climbed over, under and around, now and then calling, “Look at me!” and beaming when they applauded.

  “Little daredevil,” Luke said. “She’s really something, isn’t she? I wish—” He stopped abruptly. “I wish I could be more than a part-time dad.”

  Molly stared at him. “Don’t try it,” she said harshly. “You made an agreement and you have no choice but to follow through with it.”

  “Do I?” he asked, almost to himself. “What if there’s a different way? A better way?”

  He saw the fear that filled her eyes—the fear that she would lose her daughter. And he felt the same fear deep in his gut.

  Warren’s words rang in his ears. You’ll do the right thing, he’d said. I’m sure of it. And he’d moved out of the master bedroom and restored the room next door, as if he expected...

  Don’t encourage her to believe that we’re a family, Molly had said a little while ago.

  But why not?

  Luke looked into his empty coffee cup, then across the table at the mother of his child. And he heard himself say, as if from a great distance, “Will you marry me?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  MOLLY’S hand went numb with shock, and almost in slow motion, her coffee cup tipped onto its side. She didn’t realize it till the barely warm dregs dripped on her jeans and soaked through to her skin. She reached for a napkin to blot the spill, but the action was automatic. She was incapable of thinking.

  Will you marry me?

  What in heaven’s name was the man up to now? He couldn’t actually mean it, could he? Just a few minutes ago he’d said he had no intention of embarking on a major life-style change.

  Her paper napkin turned brown and soggy, and Luke went after another handful from the service counter. As Molly finished mopping the mess he picked up his own empty cup and said, “Would you like some more coffee?”

  He sounded, Molly thought, as if the question was just as important as the last one he’d asked. “No, thanks.”

  Luke sat down. “You’re right. It tastes pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

  She watched his long fingers as he fiddled with the paper cup. He folded the handles and unrolled the rim. She looked on in fascination, wondering if he realized what he was doing.

  “As nervous as you are about it,” she said finally, “perhaps you’d like to pretend you didn’t ask that question. And I don’t mean the one about the coffee.”

  Luke didn’t answer. He seemed to be thinking it over.

  Time stood still. Molly waited, trying not to hold her breath, trying to tell herself that it really didn’t matter whether he was thinking better of a few rash words. But she knew it did matter. She didn’t want him to withdraw the question because—despite the years and the pain—she still cared for him.

  No, that wasn’t quite accurate. She didn’t care for him still. She’d learned to care for him again.

  Once, as a girl, she had worshipped him and thought it was the same as being in love. Now she knew the difference, and now she knew it wasn’t infatuation she felt.

  Because she had left behind that schoolgirl crush, she had foolishly believed she had gotten over Luke. Instead, in the past weeks, as she had come to know the man he had become, something far more lasting had awakened deep inside her.

  She had fallen in love with him. She had done so blindly, heedlessly, foolishly—but no less certainly.

  Looking back, she had no trouble at all diagnosing what had happened to her. She even knew the moment it had started—that very first day in his office, when she’d seen how worried Luke was about his father and the lengths he was willing to go to reawaken Warren’s interest in life. And then there was the way he’d treated Bailey from the very beginning. How many men would have postponed the start of a business day to make a silly badge for a three-year-old? Or put aside exhaustion to teach her how to play with a dog as large as she was?

  Molly had been tiptoeing along a precipice long before the night Bailey had been lost—but that was no doubt when she’d gone over the edge for good. She’d been so horribly upset, and Luke had been there like a rock, holding her steady and keeping her safe as surely as the dog had protected Bailey.

  Even in the midst of her distress, how could she have failed to recognize that her reaction to him wasn’t simple gratitude but something a great deal more complicated?

  Subconsciously, she must have known—and she had not wanted to let go of him even when the danger was past. So she’d blurted out the truth about his daughter—not only because it wouldn’t have been fair not to tell him but because she wanted to hold onto Luke.

  She had wanted...this.

  “A little nervous yourself, aren’t you?” Luke said.

  Molly realized she’d turned the last dry napkin into infinitesimal shreds. Awkwardly, she bundled the evidence inside the coffee-logged wad of paper, propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands.

  Luke said, “We aren’t going to pretend I didn’t ask, because I did. And the question stands.”

  It didn’t only stand, Molly thought, it positively resounded. She was surprised Bailey hadn’t heard it all the way up at the top of the playground.

  Will you marry me?

  But that wasn’t truly what he was asking, she knew. At its heart, the question really had nothing to do with her. If it wasn’t for Bailey, the thought of marrying Molly would never have crossed Luke’s mind, and they both knew it.

  All she had to do was say yes and she would have achieved exactly what she’d subconsciously set out to do. But only now did Molly realize how hollow the accomplishment would be. He didn’t want to marry her, but he’d go through the motions. To have his child all the time, to be more than a makeshift dad, to give Bailey the semblance of a normal family, he would make the sacrifice of marrying her mother.

  “For Bailey.” Molly managed to keep her voice level.

  Luke glanced at the playground. Molly followed his gaze and watched Bailey come down the plastic-tube slide headfirst.

  He sounded impatient. “Of course it’s for Bailey. I never said this would be the love match of the century.”

  His tone, as much as the words, scraped Molly’s soul raw. “I certainly can’t argue with that.” Because even though I love you, you don’t love me.

  He shrugged. “I thought we were actually getting along fairly well for a while until this little difficulty came up.”

  “This little difficulty?”

  “Deciding who gets Bailey. If we don’t have to argue about that, I don’t see any reason we couldn’t deal reasonably well together.”

  It was a chilly assessment of what would undoubtedly be an even cooler relationship.

  I have to say no, Molly told herself. It will only hurt worse, and longer, if I don’t. But even though she knew it would be a disaster if she agreed, she couldn’t force herself to turn down what she wanted so badly. Not directly. She did the best she could. “Luke, listen to yourself. It’s crazy.”

  “Is it? If you’d told me at Megan’s wedding about the baby, and I’d proposed, you’d have married me in a minute.”

  “I thought I loved you, then.” And now I know I do and it doesn’t make a bit of difference, because you don’t care about me. “What sort of odds would you have given that marriage?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Slim to none. But we’re not kids anymore, Molly. We’re not blinded by infatuation.”

  “We’re not foolish enough to think that love solves everything,” she said wryly.

  “Exactly—love doesn’t come into it at all. And we both want what’s best for Bailey.”

  Bailey. They’d come around in a circle. Was he right, that this alliance—sh
e could hardly call it a marriage—was in Bailey’s best interests?

  Instead of being shuffled between two people, two houses, never quite knowing where she fit in, Bailey would have two full-time parents, a fairly normal family life, one home. And what a home. Not that material things could be allowed to matter in a decision as important as this.

  Molly had sworn on the day Bailey was born that she would put her child’s welfare above everything else, that she would never again make a decision without first considering its impact on Bailey.

  But how far did that go? Was it her duty to accept Luke’s proposal—for Bailey’s sake?

  Or would she simply be using Bailey as an excuse for doing precisely what she wanted? And fooling herself all the while not only about her motives but their chances of success?

  She was certain of only one thing—that she was too confused to make a rational decision. “I need some time to think about it, Luke.”

  “Molly, there have been peace treaties that were negotiated faster than this.”

  Under different circumstances, Molly thought, the edge in his voice might have sounded like the desperation of a young man deeply in love and afraid he was going to be turned down. At least he’d been honest. She was glad of that.

  Bailey appeared at her elbow, her face flushed from exercise and her hair damp with perspiration. “Mommy, I want something to drink.”

  Molly reached across the table for her plastic milk glass.

  “How long do you want?” Luke asked.

  “Everything’s changed so fast, Luke. Surely it isn’t asking too much to take a few days to think it over.”

  “All right. But I’m not going to accept some vague I’ll-let-you-know-whenever-I’ve-decided nonsense, so set a time.”

  “You really think I want to leave something like this hanging over my head indefinitely?” She sighed. “My parents’ anniversary party is a week from Saturday. How’s that?”

  “I suppose it’ll do. And if you make up your mind before then—”

  “Believe me,” Molly said, “you’ll be the first to know.”