Texas Baby

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Texas Baby Page 12

by Tanya Michaels


  But his mother wasn't listening. She was apparently replaying the rest of what he'd said. "You changed a diaper? Did someone we know have a baby? Or is this new girl of yours a single mother?"

  "Single aunt. Addie has custody of her niece and nephew because their parents died."

  "Oh, how terrible for them."

  "They've been through a lot," Giff agreed, "but Tanner's a resilient little guy and he's already doing better in school and at making friends than he was a couple of weeks ago. He's six. The baby, Nicole, is five months old."

  "This Addie must have her hands full," Grace said. "Will I get to meet her this weekend at Jake and Brooke's reception?"

  "No." Giff chose his words carefully. "Even though Jake encouraged me to bring a date, I think the situation could prove…awkward."

  Especially if Jake let Addie know about any of his misgivings. She'd already overcome her own doubts, and Giff didn't want her to have any reason to question her choice. In a flash of insight, Giff realized that although he'd found it relatively easy to forgive Jake for his part in breaking up his relationship with Brooke, Giff wouldn't be nearly as tolerant if Jake caused a rift between him and Addie. Even imagining the possibility elevated his blood pressure.

  "I can see your point," his mother said, "but Jake's been your best friend since grade school. If you date Addie for any length of time, she's bound to meet him eventually. Why not get it out of the way?"

  Before he could respond, his mother flashed a mischievous smile. "If it helps, I doubt he'll try to steal her from you since he's safely married now."

  His jaw dropped. "Did you just make a completely inappropriate joke at my expense?"

  "I suppose that depends on your definition of inappropriate," she said. "I love you more than anyone in the entire world, darling, but that doesn't mean I can't make fun of you."

  "Just so you know, you won't be getting a card next Mother's Day."

  Dimples flashed in her cheeks as she smiled, but her expression sobered a moment later. "I was kidding, of course, but seriously, how are things between you and Jake? Have you seen him lately?"

  "We played racquetball together and I went over Sunday to help him screen in the back porch." Both true statements, so Giff tried to convince himself there was nothing dishonest about what he said.

  His mother just watched him, the same way she had when he was a child. He'd never been able to lie to her—had never really wanted to—and he couldn't start now.

  Giff caved. "He and I had a slight disagreement when I was there Sunday. About Addie. He's of the misguided opinion…Do you think I'm afraid of being alone?"

  His mother looked taken aback by the question. "Most people are, to some extent, but that's not how I would describe you. You're definitely not one of those serial daters. If anything, you work too hard and forget to seek out personal relationships."

  "Jake insists I'm desperate for a family." Giff's lip curled. He was a successful, well-liked man. It was galling that someone could see him as desperate in any manner. "That I only proposed to Brooke because I wanted to present you with cute grandkids."

  Grace leaned back in her seat. "I always did wonder why you asked her to marry you."

  "What? I thought you loved Brooke."

  "I do. She's charming. But the two of you together…If she made you happy, I was prepared to be happy for the both of you. You know your father was an important man in the business community."

  "Of course," Giff said, wondering what the one had to do with the other.

  "He worked hard," Grace continued. "He was a good provider for us, and I loved him for that, but we fought over it, too. There were evenings he'd get wrapped up in a meeting and miss dinner, forgetting to call and let me know. But when we were at an event together and he got swept into a corner with the boys' club for wheeling and dealing, I could still feel him watching me. If I left the room, he spotted me as soon as I returned and he'd smile at me." She stopped, looking misty-eyed at the memory.

  Then she gave herself a brisk shake. "I think you cared for Brooke and would have been a decent husband to her. But when she walked into a room, your eyes weren't drawn to her."

  Giff remembered what he'd told Jake. "I wasn't passionate about her."

  "And it's different with Addie?"

  A grin broke across his face. "Much."

  "Then it doesn't matter what Jake or anyone else thinks. Life is short," she said, her expression softening in a way that let him know she was still thinking of her late husband. "Follow your heart and hope for the best. That's all any of us can do."

  Chapter Thirteen

  After Giff had dropped his mom off and helped her carry all the suitcases inside, he found himself at loose ends. What he wanted to do was call Addie, but he knew she was at Tanner's soccer practice already. He briefly toyed with the notion of giving Jake a call, but he needed to organize his thoughts better before confronting his friend again.

  Might as well get some work done. The IT people who worked for Daughtrie knew that he was looking at network security, but they didn't know he was looking at them, as well. After hours was a good time to run scans he didn't want to explain to anyone. If he was lucky, he'd find transmittal of Daughtrie's latest bids and could wrap up the whole project. He'd miss seeing Addie every day, but his tolerance for Bill Daughtrie himself was about shot. Besides, he suspected Addie would be more comfortable with their escalating romance once they were no longer in the same workplace.

  The empty parking garage showed that most people had left for the day, although he spotted Robert Jenner sitting inside his red sports car, talking to a blonde Giff recognized from a different department. Giff walked quickly, not wanting a ringside seat if Jenner—unquestionably the company hound—was angling for a quickie from a coworker.

  Inside the building, the office suites were eerily quiet, with minimal lights turned on and only the hum of electronic equipment to keep him company. But without the distractions of ringing phones and incoming faxes and a booming Bill Daughtrie interrupting for progress reports, Giff was able to settle in to his work and give it his full concentration.

  An hour later, he was frowning, dumbfounded, at the computer screen in front of him. He'd hoped to find a recent transmittal of information and had struck out. But someone had gone into the log and deleted an action they hadn't wanted anyone else to see. Not just someone, though. According to the log-in information he unearthed, it was Addie.

  He rolled the office chair back away from the desk, as if needing to put physical distance between himself and the "evidence." It's not true. He knew without a doubt that Addie was not the person selling out Daughtrie. Best-case scenario, she'd had a simple explanation for erasing something and she'd explain it to him when he asked.

  Worst case? Someone was setting her up.

  That was new. He hadn't found any red herrings on his previous e-searches. Was someone panicking because they were afraid Giff was getting close with all of his security research? Or had someone from IT hijacked the idea Addie had once brainstormed in their team meeting, to throw off suspicion by implicating someone else?

  More than ever, he wished he could give her the details behind his assignment here, but Bill had required confidentiality. Giff was sworn to discretion.

  Bill was antsy for the person responsible to be found and fired, so he could make an example of them and deter any future disloyalty. Giff had always wanted to expose the guilty party, as a point of professional pride. But now his motivation went much deeper—someone was jeopardizing Addie's livelihood, whether maliciously or simply because she'd been convenient somehow. Giff would not let that happen.

  * * *

  "EVERYTHING OKAY?" ADDIE BIT her tongue, but it was too late. The question had already escaped. Which was embarrassing, since it was the third time she'd asked since they'd been seated in the family-owned pizzeria.

  And for the third time, Giff denied anything was bothering him. "I'm fine, just preoccupied with work stuff. P
lus, I'm starving. Think they'll bring out our food soon?"

  She fiddled with the straw in her diet soda. It was disconcerting not to believe someone whom she trusted. Probably just a guy thing. Weren't men known for not wanting to discuss their feelings? She just had to accept that he'd tell her whatever it was when he was ready.

  She changed the subject, searching for a question that wouldn't make him feel as though he was under interrogation. "Have a nice reunion with your mom yesterday?"

  His face brightened. "Yeah, I did. She can't wait to meet you. No pressure, though." He suddenly looked nervous, as if she might object to meeting the parent.

  She smiled. "We'll have to get together soon."

  The waitress brought out their pizza. Giff served the slices, but then sat there just looking at his in spite of having just claimed seconds ago that he was hungry.

  He cleared his throat. "Quick question. I was running some scans on the network and found an anomaly in the log. Have you erased anything outgoing lately, reset anything?"

  "No. I did delete some forwarded jokes from my e-mail in-box," she teased.

  His mouth quirked in recognition of the joke, but he didn't quite smile. "I know you've been busy with the kids for the last couple of months, but before that, did you socialize much with the IT people? Drinks after work, karaoke on Friday, that kind of thing?"

  Addie's imagination inflicted her with a mental picture of Jenner and Parnelli doing their best Hall and Oates, and she grimaced. "Definitely not."

  "How well would you say you know them?"

  "Not very, I guess." She was surprised by the direction of conversation, but at least he was talking now and not just brooding.

  "So no Friday night poker," he surmised. "Do you know if any of them gamble?"

  She stared. "Why? You looking to get a game going? Giff, no offense, but you're acting awfully weird today. Is it just because of this 'anomaly'?"

  "Sorry." He spread his hands on the table, studying his fingers. "I guess I do have something on my mind that I should ask you about. I have an idea of when you could meet my mom."

  "Okay," she said encouragingly, wondering if he'd jumped topics entirely or if the two were somehow linked in his man-brain.

  "I have to go to a reception this weekend. It goes without saying that I'd love for you to be my date, but…"

  It clicked, then, what he wanted to ask her and maybe why he seemed so discomfited. The first time she'd ever had lunch with Giff, they'd seen his ex-fiancée and Brooke had wanted assurance that Giff wouldn't miss the upcoming wedding reception.

  "The celebration for Brooke and Jake is this weekend," Addie guessed.

  He looked miserable. "Yeah. It's Saturday night. I know it would probably be weird for you, meeting my mom and best friend all in one night at a party for my best friend and the woman I was supposed to have married a month ago. Plus, you have the issue of trying to find a babysitter last minute. Under other circumstances, my mom would probably volunteer, but of course, she's going. She was like Jake's second mother and—"

  "Giff!"

  "Yeah?"

  "You're babbling." She smothered a laugh. "Which is cute but completely unnecessary. Do you want me to be there?" It wasn't only her for whom this could be weird.

  "Yes." His shoulders slumped as he exhaled, looking like himself again. "Yes, I do."

  "Then I'll be there. Just as I'm sure that if I had to face my ex and wanted to show up looking gorgeous, with a devoted date at my side, I could count on you to help me out."

  He reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "You can count on me for anything you need. And he was an idiot for letting you go."

  Privately she couldn't help thinking the same thing about this Brooke woman, but that probably wasn't the right conversational opener for Saturday night.

  * * *

  "I HAD NO IDEA DEPARTMENT stores offered this service," Addie marveled as she pushed Nicole's stroller toward women's dresses and evening wear.

  Jonna smirked. "They're getting sneaky. They know women will spend more money if they have longer to browse without tiny voices asking, 'Can we go home now?'"

  Addie had called her friend immediately after lunch and the two women had agreed to meet at the mall for an emergency shopping expedition Wednesday night. When Addie had told her about Giff's asking her to the reception, Jonna had agreed to keep the kids at her house for a sleepover Saturday night; she'd also insisted that Addie needed a killer new dress. Upon arrival, they'd discovered that one of the fancier chains offered a free "drop and shop" room to their customers, where children between the ages of three and nine could play video games and create pictures with art supplies while their mothers tried on clothes. Guardians were given a pager in case the child needed anything and had to show identification to sign the kids back out.

  "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help with this," Addie said. "Not just the shopping part, but the babysitting!"

  "Girl, I'm just glad you and Giff finally decided to date. If I can help make that possible, I'm more than happy to give up a single Saturday night." Her eyes glinted with humor. "Especially since Sean will be out of town this weekend. He's still planning to be at the soccer game tomorrow night, though."

  "Giff told me he's looking forward to seeing me in action as the coach," Addie said. "Apparently he has a thing for sporty women."

  A crease appeared between Jonna's eyebrows. "Well you're not going 'sporty' for Saturday. Try 'slinky.' Sexy. Sultry. Va-va-voom!" She pumped a fist in the air.

  "Easy on the voom. This will be my introduction to his mother," Addie reminded her overzealous friend.

  "Fine. Sexy but tasteful."

  "And on clearance, if possible."

  Jonna crossed her eyes at her. "Man are you picky."

  They hit the sales racks, and fifteen minutes later Addie took a few selections into the dressing room while Jonna waited with the baby. A navy evening gown looked too matronly and a beaded white dress gaped in the bodice obviously designed for someone who could fill more than a B cup. Addie was, at best, a B minus. The red number wasn't bad, but it wasn't great, either. She huffed out a sigh and emerged into the waiting area.

  "I didn't get to see any of them." Jonna pouted.

  "No point in wasting your time. I'm only showing you the serious contenders. Is it petty to wish his ex wasn't quite so beautiful?"

  "Yes, very." Jonna grinned.

  "I'm a little nervous," Addie admitted. "Not because I'm worried about stacking up to Brooke, but…I'm not sure I'll be able to like these people. I can't even wrap my head around Giff forgiving them. The woman he wanted to marry jilted him for his best friend! How does he trust them?"

  "What you're seeing as a betrayal, maybe he sees as a blessing. If she hadn't jilted him, he wouldn't be with you now."

  "In that case, I should take her a bottle of champagne in thanks. Because Giff is amazing. He's good with the kids and even smarter than me about computers—"

  "Only you would find that a turn-on," Jonna interrupted with an eye roll.

  "And he's a fantastic kisser. I could so easily let myself fall in love with him."

  "Sounds like a plan," Jonna approved. "I know Christian let you down when you tried to lean on him, but this is different. Let yourself fall. Trust Giff to catch you."

  And if it didn't work out, her heart would be a giant splat on the pavement, but wasn't that the chance everyone took? At least she'd been lucky enough to meet someone worth the risk.

  * * *

  "ALL RIGHT, SEA TURTLES, gather 'round!" Waiting for her pint-size players to congregate, Addie winked at Tanner. From the sidelines, Jonna and Giff both gave him a thumbs-up. "I want to remind everyone that the most important things out there are to do your best and have fun. The first group in will be Mandy and Tyrone on offense, Sammy and Tanner on defense."

  She couldn't help glancing apologetically in Sam's direction as she said this. The kid who'd cried throughout every practice
they'd had was holding steady so far, but his eyes were red-rimmed and he was clutching a stuffed yellow bunny he insisted on carrying to the field with him. Why not? Addie had decided. The bunny could be their unofficial mascot. Maybe she could talk him into a stuffed turtle for the next game. She just hoped that she and Sam's parents weren't scarring the child for life by pushing him into something he wasn't ready for.

  No sooner had the first quarter started than Caleb's father, predictably, got in her face, demanding to know why her kid was starting instead of his. She seriously wished she could trade Caleb and his dad to another team.

  "Because he showed poor sportsmanship during warm-up, and I wasn't going to reward that kind of behavior," she said calmly. "We don't call the other team losers." Especially when I have reason to believe they're gonna kick our butts.

  It wasn't looking good out on the field. Sammy was standing frozen in place, gripping his rabbit in front of him like a shield, and Mandy had already made a goal—for the opposite team.

  "Other goal, sweetie!" Addie yelled encouragingly. "Nice kick, though." Why in heaven's name did I agree to do this?

  But when she looked out and watched Tanner race across the grass, brow furrowed in concentration as he swept his leg toward the ball, she remembered. Tanner passed it to Tyrone, who scored—thankfully in the right goal—and Addie whooped with joy.

  "Way to go, Turtles!"

  By halftime, they still only had the one point, though. Giff walked over to hand Tanner his water bottle, then stayed to rub Addie's shoulders after the little boy had run off to join his friends.

  "You're a natural at this," Giff told her.

  "Yeah." She blew out a puff of air. "That's why we're getting slaughtered five to one. Do the kids on the Meteors team look especially tall to you? I swear they're using eight-year-old ringers."

  "Ah, yes," Giff said gravely. "The seedy underbelly of community-sponsored, first grade soccer. I think I saw a news special on this."

  Addie laughed, immensely cheered by his presence. "I'm glad you're here." She pressed a quick kiss to his jaw.

 

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