Day-um. Yes, with a y. She had an appreciation for language, and that definitely extended to the use of local color to emphasize emotion in ways simple words couldn’t at times.
This guy. He might be wrong for her in a number of ways, but there was no denying her body heated whenever he was around and that for the past six months, whenever she read her erotic romances, James was the guy she was picturing for every hero.
But add that baby in and the way James was protectively holding him, keeping him safe and warm, making him feel comforted… Harper sighed. She’d thought James was sexy when he was holding and playing with Ami.
That was nothing compared to this.
She watched them for another moment. Then realized she had two choices. She could turn around and leave, assured that things seemed fine here. Or she could help. She had no idea how James usually slept, but there was no stretching or rolling or turning in this situation. Or if he did, he risked rolling on top of the baby. Or what if his arm relaxed and slid away from the baby and then the baby rolled or slid off?
Suddenly Harper saw beyond the sexiness and she instantly moved. She could take the baby. She could cuddle, keep him warm, make sure he slept safely since she had forgotten to get a crib. Another realization that was just hitting her.
She’d been distracted at the store. There were so many kinds of formula. So many different types of diapers. She’d been stressed about getting the right car seat. And her mind had been spinning with thoughts of James as a father and the other woman and what all this meant and her own feelings about the whole thing, and yes, she’d forgotten a crib. Merde!
Well, she couldn’t do anything about that right now, so she moved toward the bed. She’d take the baby, and then James could stretch or roll or whatever and get comfortable. Surely, subconsciously, he’d recognize he could move and he’d reposition.
She looked down at them from beside the bed. They weren’t right on the edge. Again, she wondered if James always slept in the middle or if he’d specifically moved over so there was mattress on either side in case the baby did roll off. Still, that was risky. The baby couldn’t lift his own head yet. He could suffocate if he rolled into the blankets. Her heart suddenly pounding, Harper reached out to lift the baby off of James.
But just as her hand touched his back, James stirred.
She froze.
“Professor?”
His voice was husky from sleep, low and gravelly, and Harper’s belly flipped, heat sliding from her stomach lower, between her legs. They were in his bedroom. One of them was in bed. And that voice. And the nickname. She could hardly be blamed for her reaction.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“You okay?”
It was the middle of the night, and he was the one asleep with the thing that had just turned his life upside down, but he was asking about her? She never came to him with needs. He came to her. She nodded. “I thought I’d take him so you could get more comfortable.”
He looked down at the baby, and seemingly instinctively, his hand slid from the baby’s butt to his back. James’s hand was huge on the tiny baby, and Harper swallowed hard at the sweet picture. “He’s okay.”
“You sure? I don’t mind.”
He looked up at her. He was clearly still sleepy, maybe not fully awake. “You wanna help?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.” She felt terrible for leaving earlier. It had gone against every instinct except the one that screamed at her to protect her heart no matter the cost. But she was afraid she was far past the point of that being possible.
“Then come here.”
Harper wet her lips. “Come… there?”
“Yeah.” He reached for her with his free hand and caught her around the wrist, tugging her forward.
She could have easily pulled back, broken free, resisted. But she let him urge her onto the mattress.
Harper knelt with a knee next to his hip. “How does this help?”
“Gets you up against me,” he said, his voice still sleep roughened.
Her heart skittered. “That’s helpful?”
“Can’t imagine how it will hurt.” He gave her a sleepy, but still devastatingly sexy smile. “This way you’re here if he does need something.”
Well, he had a point.
Harper stretched out on the mattress beside James. He put his arm up above his head again, not holding her, but definitely exposing plenty of surface area for her to be up against.
Oh, what the hell. She wouldn’t sleep well at her place now, wondering what was going on over here. This way she was very much here for whatever went on. And she’d wanted to be up against him for a few months now. Lord only knew what the next few days were going to bring with the baby and everything. She might as well enjoy this moment while she had it.
She scooted closer. His body was hot and hard. She swallowed with some difficulty.
Then the baby made a little grunting sound and curled and stretched against James.
This was so not how she’d ever pictured being in bed with James Reynaud. That was for sure.
This was so not how he’d ever pictured being in bed with Harper Broussard.
But damn, he’d take it.
James was stiff, and his arm was asleep, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the kink out of his neck, but he had a baby boy sleeping like a rock on his chest and a gorgeous woman sleeping like a rock up against his side, her cheek on his chest, some of her hair clutched in the baby’s fist, and a shaggy dog sleeping like a rock on his left foot. James wouldn’t have moved for a million dollars.
As consciousness slowly returned, he took a further inventory of what was going on. Specifically, Harper. He’d woken up with Fred before, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up like this with the baby a few more times. If not a lot more times. But his chance to lay next to Harper as the morning sun streamed in through his window, before the day started, before he really had to deal with any craziness, was something he wasn’t willing to rush through. It might not happen again.
Her soft curves were pressed up against his side, her breasts against his ribs, her pelvis against his hip, one of her legs draped over his. She was warm and smelled amazing. He wanted nothing more than to slide his hand down, cup her ass and roll her over and underneath him, kissing her awake.
One definite reason to get a crib today.
The baby had slept through the night, which even James knew was miraculous and something that didn’t happen much with babies. He remembered Caleb talking about Jack, Lexi’s little boy, as a baby, being awake every two hours, hungry and wet.
That concerned James on one level. Maybe something was wrong with the baby. Maybe he shouldn’t be sleeping this much. But he hadn’t been feverish. He’d seemed appropriately alert and engaged when he’d been awake. James had gone through the basic tests that he knew from the field. Of course, most of his stuff had to do with triaging emergency situations, but they couldn’t be too far off even in this situation. And today he’d get some real, actual medical input on the kid.
The kid. Possibly his kid.
That had honestly not occurred to him until Harper said it.
Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Was this little boy his son?
His heart kicked when he thought about that. It was possible, yes.
He hadn’t been with a woman since he’d first introduced Harper Broussard to his olive tree. But yes, it was possible that this little one was his, and that’s why he’d shown up on James’s step.
That hadn’t been his first thought when he’d seen the baby, though. He wasn’t sure why. In part, because he was a fanatic about condoms. And because, while he might not know the birthdays and favorite flower of all the women he’d slept with, he couldn’t imagine any of them being scared of coming to him with a pregnancy. Or at least sticking around with the baby when she brought him over.
Then again, it wasn’t like he’d delved deeply into the psyches of all his flings.<
br />
Harper took a deep breath in her sleep and let it out softly, snuggling closer. James’s body responded because, well, he’d wanted this woman for six months, and her ugly flannel pants, and the fact this whole situation was pretty complicated right now had zero negative effect on his libido. But there was an infant on his chest. One that was starting to squirm and would soon need attention, no doubt, and that would break up anything resembling a sexy moment.
James looked from the soft brown of Harper’s head to the darker tuft of hair on top of the baby’s head. Yes, it was very similar in color to his own hair. He blew out a breath. Well, fuck. This was not exactly how he’d expected to wake up next to Harper for the first time, but he might as well make the best of it. There was little he could do to change it right now. The baby—his or not—had been entrusted to him, and James was going to take care of him.
He was going to take care of Harper, too.
They’d had a date for sex the other night. The four-alarm fire had gotten in the way, but it had been a date. For sex. It had been clear. And he wasn’t about to let her forget about that. Yes, he now had a baby. Maybe. Well, he had a baby in his care, whether or not the kid was actually his biologically. But that didn’t mean he didn’t still want Harper. She’d been freaked out by it, understandably. But he’d seen two important things in her eyes along with the shock. He’d seen concern. For him. She’d been worried about him as she realized things had just gotten more complicated in his life. He’d also seen jealousy. There was another woman on her mind now. The baby obviously had a mother, and who she was to James mattered to Harper. He was sure she’d try to deny that, but he’d seen it.
Concern and jealousy. Those weren’t things that a woman felt for her across-the-landing neighbor. Those were things a woman felt for a guy she was interested in. A guy she cared about. He wasn’t going to let her just ignore those things or pretend they weren’t there.
Him having a kid didn’t change how he felt about her. He wanted Harper. He hadn’t even kissed her. Hadn’t seen her in a sexy dress. Hadn’t danced with her. But he’d never wanted a woman more.
And she wanted to dance with him.
That was going to happen.
Baby or not.
Speaking of whom—at that moment, the baby stretched and then screwed up his face, gave a little squawk, farted, and then threw up.
On Harper.
That woke Fred, who lifted his head and gave a little woof. James wasn’t sure if the dog was telling the baby to knock it off or if he was inquiring if the kid was okay. Fred was going to have to adjust to this whole thing quick, or he was going to be sleeping at Harper’s full time.
Harper stirred. Whether it was Fred’s noise or the warm goo on her neck, she frowned then opened her eyes, blinked and looked around, clearly trying to figure out where she was. James started to sit up as Harper lifted a hand to her neck where there was warm, sticky baby puke. Her eyes focused on his stomach then slid up to the baby, who had just let out another squawk and who was clearly gearing up for more noise as she pulled her hand away from her neck and looked at the white slime.
James was trying very hard to just keep his mouth shut. There wasn’t much good to say just then, and he was, frankly, having a hard time understanding why he found Harper so fucking hot when she looked so confused and disheveled. She had baby puke on her neck, and he would have put her up against the nearest firm surface in a heartbeat. If he didn’t have a baby in his hands, of course.
His rustling around disturbed Fred, who woofed and then got up, stretching and shaking. He focused on them all and gave a little bark.
The noise made the baby jerk and screw up his face, preparing to cry. James patted his back. “Shhh,” he cooed softly.
“Ami, quiet,” Harper admonished. “You’re okay.”
Fred snorted and jumped off the bed.
Yeah, off the bed might be good before the baby made more of a mess. James scooted to the opposite side and stood. With a sigh, Harper sat up on the side she was on, wiping at her neck, looking more resigned than disgusted, and James had to admit that was pretty great. She was a classy linguistics professor, but she wasn’t freaking out about being puked on.
He couldn’t help but pause in front of her as he rounded the bed on the way to the bathroom where he’d laid out a stack of towels to use as a diaper-changing station. “’Mornin’.”
Her gaze started at his knees and traveled upward. Slowly.
James became aware that he was only wearing his underwear. It was how he always slept, but he hadn’t woken up with a woman in a very long time so hadn’t thought much of it.
But hell, he’d gone to bed without a woman. This woman had come to him. In the middle of the night. Yeah, he couldn’t forget that, and he wasn’t going to let her forget that either.
Concern. That’s what had brought her across the landing. He knew it. But he thought maybe more than that had led her to climbing into bed with him.
The fitted underwear that didn’t have much space to accommodate the way his body responded to her perusal. It was too late to grab a blanket or pants or to shift to cover his growing erection with his hands. His hands were full anyway. Of a baby who was getting louder and squirmier. So he let her look.
Not that he minded. What he minded was not being able to do anything about the fact he was in only his underwear, and she was in pajamas, including a thin top that was slipping off one shoulder, while she was clearly braless, her creamy skin just begging to be touched, and there was a bed right there.
He had a new appreciation for his friends with kids and all the times they must have been cock blocked.
Just then the baby made a funny little squeal sound and suddenly farted again. But this time there was more than just noise.
“Oh!” Harper’s hand flew up to cover her mouth.
James grimaced as he felt warm slime cover his hand and slide onto his chest. He knew what it was. He didn’t need—or want—to look.
At least his erection and lusty thoughts were effectively dead now.
“Um… shit,” he said, in a feeble attempt at humor.
Harper made a choked, laughing sound behind her hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “This is so not how I envisioned our first morning in bed together.”
She’d envisioned a morning in bed together?
Even with baby poop on his hand and chest, he couldn’t just skip over that tidbit of information. “Tell me, in graphic detail, how you did envision it.”
She shook her head, smiling behind her hand, eyes still shut. “I can’t. Not with that smell and the knowledge that I have spit-up in my hair.” She took her hand away, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. “Go clean up. I’m going to grab a shower, too.”
She was leaving. “Wait. Don’t… go.”
Her eyes opened. “What?”
“Don’t leave.” The baby was squirming and fussing, and yeah, the smell was becoming impossible to ignore. James started for the bathroom. “Just… wait.”
“I really am just going to shower quick,” she assured him. “I’ll come back over. I don’t have a class until two.”
He spun. “You have to work today?”
“Well, yes.” She frowned. “Hey, you’re off today?”
“Yeah.”
Harper stood, and James took in the sight quickly. The thin pants hung loose on her hips, and it wouldn’t take much to push them to the floor. Did she wear panties to bed? Then she moved in front of the window, and the morning sun shone through the thin material of her top, showing the delicious outline of her perfect, perky breasts.
“Do you think she knew that? Do you think she planned to bring him over on a night when you’d be off the next day, on purpose?”
Her words jerked him back to the conversation. And the foul-smelling, slimy, wiggling baby in his hands. He stepped into the bathroom. “Hey, bud, it’s okay,” he said softly to the baby. The baby did not agree. He started yelling louder about how bad hi
s backside felt and probably how hungry he was.
James looked around the bathroom. How was he going to do this? If he cleaned the baby up first, he’d get the kid dirty again when he picked him back up. He couldn’t very well just lay him on the bathmat while James showered. Plus then he’d get dirty again when he picked the baby back up.
“Uh…”
Suddenly Harper was in the bathroom doorway. “So it’s someone who knows you’re a firefighter. Does that help narrow down who she might be?”
He reached for the roll of toilet paper, tearing off a long strip and trying to wipe… something. Anything. The baby was squawking now, and James knew they were maybe a minute away from outright crying. “All the women I’ve been with know I’m a firefighter, Harper,” he said absently over the noise.
“You use that as a pickup line all the time?”
“It’s one of my strongest selling points.” He tried to wipe at his hand, but it was difficult to support the baby and wipe at the same time.
“That is so not true,” she muttered.
“What?”
But before he could ask her what she meant by that, she stepped around him and leaned in to turn on the shower. He was momentarily distracted by how great her ass looked, and how, if he’d been on the other side of her, he would have been able to see down her shirt.
Damn, even a squalling, poop-covered baby couldn’t get in the way of his attraction to this woman.
“Get in.” She stepped back, clearly meaning he should get into the shower.
He glanced down at the baby. “Uh.”
“Take him in with you.”
James shrugged. That would work. He flashed her a grin. “You wanna take my underwear down or hold the poopy baby so I can?”
She lifted a brow. “I think you can get in with them on.”
“Worth a try.” He stepped over the edge of the tub, turning so the spray would hit his back, blocking it from the baby at first.
Getting Off Easy Page 6