The Non-Commissioned Baby

by Maureen Child

  “Everybody makes plans,” she said.

  It was as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “I’m going to be the youngest general in the corps,” he stated. Then he glanced at the wicker basket. “And I’m not going to let anything stop me.”

  Three

  A nightmare.

  In less than twelve hours, his life had become a waking nightmare.

  Jeff stumbled across the living room, stepped on a fallen pacifier and grunted as the dull yet stabbing pain lanced from his arch straight up his leg.

  “Are you all right?” Laura asked, her voice high enough to carry over the baby’s wailing.

  “Dandy,” he muttered, then flopped down beside her on the couch. Instantly, he lifted one hip and pulled a leaking baby bottle from under his butt. “How can one kid need so much stuff?” he grumbled to no one in particular as he slammed the plastic bottle down onto the coffee table.

  Laura had only one lamp on, and in the dim light, he surveyed what had, only that morning, been his sanctuary.

  Blankets, clean diapers, bottles, pacifiers, lotion, powder—there was enough junk in the already small room to satisfy a battalion of babies. So why wasn’t the only baby present happy?

  “Why is she screaming like that?” he demanded.

  “I think she’s teething,” Laura said, and hitched Miranda higher on her shoulder.

  “Perfect,” he said. “How long does that last?”

  In the soft light, Laura smirked at him. “According to my watch, she should be finished in another three and a half minutes.”

  His eyebrows lifted. He knew sarcasm when he heard it, and if he wasn’t so damn tired, he might have taken a shot himself. As it was, his heart just wasn’t in it.

  Laura whispered to the baby while stroking the infant’s back in long, gentle motions. Jeff watched her, at first for lack of anything else to do, but after a moment, because he couldn’t seem to look away.

  And he also couldn’t figure out why. That nightgown of hers certainly wasn’t alluring. An oversized T-shirt emblazoned Life Is A Trip, Don’t Miss It hung to midthigh. Although, he thought, the surprisingly shapely legs revealed by that shirt were not bad at all. As he watched, she shifted slightly, tugging the hem down fruitlessly.

  Her thick brown hair lay loose on her shoulders, and he had to admit that the casual style complemented her features far better than the scraped-back ponytail she’d worn earlier. Her high cheekbones were more sharply defined in the soft light. Light brown eyebrows arched high over eyes that looked as deep and mysterious as a moonless night. Her generous mouth was curved in a half smile even as the baby in her arms flailed tiny fists against her face. Laura merely caught one of those fists, opened it and kissed the small, chubby palm.

  His jaw tightened, and something inside him twisted. A curl of desire trickled through him, and he deliberately squashed it. Shifting position on the sofa, he wished he had taken the time to grab his robe before leaving his room. Wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, Jeff felt suddenly, decidedly uncomfortable.

  He was staring.

  In the shadowy light, Laura saw his pale blue eyes darken as he watched her. Her gaze slid away, unfortunately dropping to his bare, muscular chest. Her heart beat faster, and her palms were damp. Breath after breath straggled into her lungs even as she told herself that she was probably just too warm in the overheated apartment.

  All she needed was to turn the heater down.

  This had nothing to do with how attractive he was. After all, she didn’t even notice things like that anymore.

  Laura’s gaze flicked to his again, then quickly away. Her stomach fluttered and twitched. Why was he looking at her so strangely? She wasn’t exactly a supermodel, so what did he find so fascinating that he couldn’t stop watching her?

  Miranda sucked in a gulp of air, coughed, choked, then cried again, pumping her little legs against Laura’s chest. Immediately Laura dismissed Jeff Ryan and the strange things he did to her stomach and concentrated on the baby.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” she soothed in a low, humming tone.

  “No, it’s not,” Jeff said, his voice grumpy. “Is she ever going to shut up so I can get some sleep tonight?”

  Laura frowned at him, furious at his impatience. Carefully, she shifted the baby to her lap and began to rock slowly. “Well, now that you’ve told her that she’s disturbing you, I’m sure she’ll settle right down,” Laura snapped. “After all, how can the throbbing pain of new, sharp teeth slicing through her gums compare with your being tired?”

  He scowled at her and sat forward, leaning his forearms on his thighs. “You know—” he started to say.

  “Yes, I do,” she cut him off neatly. “I know that you don’t give a—” she broke off, searched for a word, then continued “—hoot about this baby. All you care about is yourself.”

  “Up until eleven this morning,” he reminded her, “that’s all I had to worry about.”

  “Well, things’ve changed.”

  “Tell me about it.” He waved one hand at her and the baby. “In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve inherited a baby and a snotty nanny.”

  “Snotty?”

  “Snotty,” he repeated.

  Bouncing the baby a little faster on her knee, Laura’s rocking motion became a bit jerky. “You are the one who needed my help,” she told him stiffly, still smarting from the “snotty” remark.

  “Help,” he clarified. “Not harassment.”

  “Now I’m harassing you?”

  “What do you call it?” he asked hotly.

  “I call it looking out for this baby when no one else seems willing.”

  Miranda sniffled and rubbed her eyes with both fists. Then, reaching down, she snatched at the hem of Laura’s nightgown and lifted it. Jamming the fabric into her mouth, she chewed furiously.

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t willing,” he said.

  “Of course you did,” Laura countered, paying no attention to the suddenly quiet baby in her arms. “Not five minutes after I got here, you were talking about finding a way out of this situation.”

  A long silent moment passed, neither of them aware that Miranda had stopped screaming. Finally, Jeff stood up, and ran one hand across the top of his head. Something Laura had already noticed he did quite often when he was upset.

  “Look,” he said, gazing down at her in the half-light, “maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “How’s that?” She looked up at him, determined to keep her gaze locked on his face. Thankfully, she was immune to the distraction of a well-muscled chest, but there was no point in taking chances.

  “I’m not some kind of monster,” he told her, and his voice sounded distant, quiet. “I don’t even hate kids.”

  Wow. A testimonial. Her hold on Miranda tightened protectively.

  “It’s just that I’m not...” He shook his head and looked off into the shadowy corner of the room. “Hell, I’m nobody’s idea of father material.”

  Was that a wistful tone in his voice? “You could be,” she said hesitantly. “If you tried.”

  He snorted a choked laugh. “You’re a lot more sure than I am, Mary Poppins,” he commented.

  Laura stood up, hitching the baby higher in her arms. Forcing herself to look into Jeff’s eyes, she said, “I thought Marines weren’t afraid of a challenge.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic half smile. She told herself that it was lucky for her she was beyond noticing things like the dimple he had in his right cheek.

  “Challenges, no,” he told her. “Slaughters, yes. And I have a feeling that kid’s already got me outnumbered.” Pausing, he listened for a minute, then said, “Hey, she’s not crying anymore.”

  True, Laura thought. Miranda had finally settled down, and neither one of them had realized it.

  Jeff looked at the baby in her arms, then pulled in a deep breath as his gaze slipped lower.

  Laura saw his jaw tighten. Glancing down, she looke
d for whatever it was that had caused such a reaction in him. Her eyes widened immediately. The hem of her nightshirt was drawn up to just beneath her left breast. Exposed to Jeff’s view was not only a wide expanse of flesh, but the electric blue lace bikini underwear she wore. Laura’s one concession to femininity in her wardrobe had always been her secret weakness for beautiful lingerie.

  Well, it wasn’t a secret anymore.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she blurted as she tugged at the fabric even while turning her back on Jeff.

  “Wow,” he murmured.

  Laura silently thanked heaven that it was so dark in the living room. She felt the heated flush of embarrassment rush to her cheeks and was relieved he wouldn’t see it.

  “Who would have thought you’d be hiding lace under all that camouflage you were wearing earlier?”

  It would have been too much to hope for that he would ignore what he’d just seen. But did he really have to talk about it, too?

  “I think it would be better if we just pretend this never happened,” Laura said as she tugged at the fabric, hoping to restore her dignity. But the baby, happily chewing on the soft cotton, was blissfully unaware of Laura’s predicament. Little fingers curled into the material and hung on with a surprisingly strong grip.

  “Nothing did happen,” Jeff stated.

  Laura shot him a quick, furtive look over her shoulder. An odd gleam shone in his eyes, but she dismissed it as a trick of the low lighting. For whatever reason, he wasn’t going to talk about her underwear anymore. That was enough.

  “Good,” she said quickly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she grunted as she stepped around him, keeping her back to him at all times. “I think I’ll put Miranda down. She seems contented enough now.”

  He chuckled.

  She heard him, but since she still wasn’t decently covered, she didn’t turn around. “What’s so funny?” she demanded, stopping just outside her open bedroom door.

  “Nothing,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “It’s just that I was thinking how alike Miranda and I are after all.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, knowing even as she did so that it was a mistake.

  “It means that pulling a woman’s nightgown up always makes me pretty content, too.”

  She inhaled sharply. Straightening her shoulders, she ignored the deep chuckles coming from behind her and walked into her room. When the door was safely closed, Laura leaned back against it.

  Miranda laughed, let go of the nightgown and patted Laura’s cheeks.

  “Oh, sure,” she said to the smiling baby. “Now you cooperate.”

  Jeff cupped his head in his hands and inhaled the scent of the strong black coffee in front of him. His eyes felt like two marbles in a bucket of sand.

  Between the baby’s restless first night in his apartment and the heart-stopping peep show Laura had unwittingly given him, he had lain awake most of the night. Visions of blue lace and smooth, lightly tanned flesh had haunted him.

  Even now, he could see her, flustered and embarrassed as she turned away from him. If the light in the room had been better, Jeff was willing to bet that he could have seen a blush steal across her cheeks.

  How long had it been since he’d known a woman to blush?

  He inhaled sharply, blew the air out of his lungs in a frustrated sigh and told himself that he would be in real bad shape if he was attracted to women like Laura Morgan.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t.

  Give him a well-dressed, sophisticated career woman every time. The motherly type had never done a thing for him. Although, you really couldn’t classify those blue lace bikini panties as motherly.

  He groaned quietly.

  Should have taken another sick day, he thought A man just couldn’t function on two hours’ sleep. Unless of course, he thought as he leaned back in his chair, he was on a battlefield. Live ammunition whizzing past your head had a way of waking you right up.

  “Captain?”

  Jeff blinked groggily, almost surprised to find himself in his office. He looked at the younger man poking his head in the doorway. “What is it, Corporal Warren?”

  “A Private Higgins is here, sir. Says he has those files you wanted.”

  “Send him in,” Jeff ordered sharply. He’d been waiting all morning for these records to arrive.

  A young, eager-looking redheaded kid in the standard camouflage utility uniform strode into his office. File folders tucked neatly beneath his left arm, the kid came to an abrupt stop in front of Jeffs desk and flashed a picture-perfect salute.

  Nodding absentmindedly, Jeff reached for the files.

  “This is all I could find, sir,” the private said as he handed the manila folders over. “If you’d like, I could make a few calls, see if there’s anything else available.”

  Jeff opened the files and glanced quickly over the pages inside. Then he looked up again. “That won’t be necessary, Private. Thank you.”

  “Aye, sir.” Another salute, an abrupt about-face and the kid was gone.

  “Corporal Warren,” Jeff called. His clerk appeared instantly.

  “Sir?”

  “Close my door, Corporal. No interruptions.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  In seconds, the door was closed and Jeff was alone. Picking up his coffee, he started reading all about the man who had given him Miranda. Not that he didn’t remember him. But it had been more than five years since he’d seen the sergeant. And in the military, an officer served with so many men—sometimes names and faces blurred without a good prodding of the memory.

  Twenty minutes later, Jeff sat back in his chair, flipping the file closed with the tips of his fingers. Setting his elbows on the arms of his chair, he steepled his fingers and stared at the windows opposite his desk.

  Memories raced through his mind. Desert sun, mind-boggling heat and the constant adrenaline rush of impending battle. Days and nights spent in the company of men willing to die at a moment’s notice.

  Abruptly, he reached for his phone and the Rolodex on the corner of his desk. He flipped quickly through the cards until he’d found the one he wanted.

  Punching in a phone number, he held the receiver to his ear, sat back again and waited.

  Laura woke up instantly and lay perfectly still.

  Even before her mind had assured her that everything was all right, she heard his voice, a hushed whisper in the darkness.

  Turning her head on the pillow until she was facing the newly purchased crib against the far wall in her room, Laura saw Jeff, leaning his forearms on the top rail, staring down at the sleeping baby.

  “I remember your father now, kiddo,” he was saying, his voice oddly tight. “I called up his service records today.”

  The baby whimpered in her sleep, and Jeff reached down to awkwardly pat her. Laura smiled in the darkness.

  “He was a good man, your dad,” Jeff said. “Got a Bronze Star for bravery.”

  Miranda kicked her blankets off, and Jeff carefully replaced them.

  A trickle of warmth moved through Laura. Maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he cared more for the baby than even he knew.

  Moonlight, peering through a part in the curtains, washed her otherwise dark room with a pale ivory cast. In the indistinct light, Jeff was no more than a shadow, yet she could read tension in every line of his body.

  “We fought together, you know.” He sighed heavily and shook his head, as if lost in the memories. “Hank kept me from making a damn fool of myself during my first battle. And I saved his sergeant’s stripes for him when he came up against a major with more brass than brains.”

  Laura held her breath, wanting to say something to him, to let him know that she wasn’t asleep. But at the same time, she wanted him to go on. She wanted to know more about him.

  She told herself that it was only because she was working for him and would be living in his house for the next three months.

  But it was more than that, and she knew it.

&n
bsp; Somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, he had forced some of the ice around her heart to melt. Why and how, she wasn’t sure.

  Maybe it was the helpless expression on his face when he looked at Miranda. And maybe it was what he did for a pair of boxer shorts.

  She scowled to herself, disgusted at this turn of events. Laura didn’t want to care about another man. She’d already found and lost the love of her life. What was the point of settling for second best?

  “You had a good dad, Miranda,” Jeff said quietly, bringing Laura’s attention back to him. “I’ll do my best to see to it you get a good one again.” He reached into the crib and smoothed his palm gently across the top of the baby’s head. “Good night, kiddo.”

  So much for her giving him the benefit of the doubt. All of her warm, fuzzy feelings for nothing. Apparently, he still had every intention of finding a way to squeak out of being Miranda’s guardian.

  Laura bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from speaking. How could she possibly be attracted to a man who could so casually walk away from a baby entrusted to his care?

  Her gaze followed him to the door and the slice of light spearing in from the living room. Laura ground her teeth together in frustration. She couldn’t say anything. If she did, he would know that she had deliberately lain there eavesdropping.

  “And good night to you, too, Laura,” he added softly, just before leaving and closing the door behind him.

  She sat straight up in bed.

  Blast him. He had known the whole time that she was awake! He must be laughing himself sick right now, guessing what it had cost her to keep her mouth shut

  Well, he wouldn’t laugh long. Whether he knew it or not, he had just given her permission to make a few comments on what he’d been telling Miranda.

  Casting a quick look at the baby, Laura climbed out of bed and headed for the door. She paused briefly to snatch up her bathrobe and throw it on.

  If they were going to talk, she’d make sure his mind was on what she was saying. Not on her underwear.