“Smart move.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed, though,” Garrett said.
She stared at him.
“Your modesty was not compromised, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said gently. “My knees were feeling like Jell-O in there. I didn’t have the guts to look.”
She laughed. “Okay, thanks.” She brushed over his comments, still embarrassed. “Thanks for being there, for holding my hand. All these months, I’ve been counting on Patty being there with me. I thought I was ready—I read all the books and took all the classes. I did everything you’re supposed to do. But when it was time for the real thing, I panicked.”
“You didn’t look like you were panicking. You did great.”
His praise warmed her. She started to feel more at ease.
Dalton squinched up his face and let out a lusty squeal.
“Will you get him for me?” She hated to move her sore, stiff body. And she didn’t really want Garrett to see her present ungainly shuffle. She’d been embarrassed enough in front of the man for one day.
Garrett blinked. “All right.” He got up and went back to the crib.
Lanie had a hunch he’d never held a newborn baby before. “He won’t break,” she promised. “Just put one hand on the back of his head, support his neck, and the rest is easy.”
Garrett reached down, scooped the infant gingerly into his arms. Dalton was so tiny, and Garrett so big. Lanie’s breath caught as she watched him lift the baby to his chest. Dalton’s cries turned to little mewls as Garrett drew him closer. The glow of wonder in Garrett’s eyes touched her, deep inside.
“He’s so light,” he breathed. “It’s almost like holding air.”
“Isn’t he beautiful?” she couldn’t resist saying. “I can hardly stop staring at him for a minute. I think I’m going to take him home and just stare at him for at least a week.”
Garrett tenderly placed Dalton into her arms, then sat again. She snuggled the baby in her arms, smiling down at him. Dalton quieted, gazed back at her with sleepy, liquid-blue eyes. She felt such a well of peace and warmth inside, and it extended to Garrett, she realized. He was part of what had happened today.
She looked up and caught him watching her, and in that brief unguarded second, she saw something in his eyes. Something she was afraid to define, but it made her flesh tingle.
It made her feel like a woman.
His expression immediately altered, but she knew she hadn’t imagined it. Not this time.
“How long will you be staying in the hospital?” he asked.
“Until tomorrow.”
“Will you have someone to take you home?”
“Patty will be back in town tomorrow night,” Lanie explained. “I already called her and told her about the baby. She’s going to come get us.”
“Good. What will you be doing about the bed-and-breakfast?”
“I’m going to keep it closed for six weeks, as long as I can afford to.”
“I see.” Garrett stood, paced a few steps toward the window then came back. “I spoke with Walter. I told him about the baby.”
Tension instantly filled her body. “Oh.” She didn’t want to think about Walter. Not now.
“He sends his best wishes.”
She didn’t say anything, instinctively holding Dalton closer to her breast. Protectiveness surged inside her, fiercer than she’d ever experienced in her life.
“He wants to help you,” he said, staring down at her with his serious eyes.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t need help?”
“Walter’s lost so much,” Garrett went on, his voice low, his gaze steady on hers. “To find he has a grandson now—that means so much to him. He doesn’t have anything else.”
There was a moment of strained silence.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she told him quietly, finally.
“You don’t have to be afraid. It will be different this time, not like it was with Ben.”
“What will be different?”
“I’ll be there.”
“You were there with Ben.”
“I didn’t understand what was going on. Ben didn’t confide in me. I still don’t understand what happened. But I promise you, for Ben’s sake, I won’t let Dalton be hurt—not by anyone.”
She stared at him, conflicted and scared. Could she believe him?
Did this mean he believed her?
“Walter only wants to see to your well-being,” he said. “Keeping your business closed can’t be easy. And with a new baby, there are doctor bills and other costs. No matter what, you’re Ben’s widow.”
Garrett named a sum that sounded enormous to Lanie’s ears.
“And just what is it that Walter expects in return for this oh-so-generous donation to my well-being?” she asked tightly.
“The blood and DNA testing, as we discussed. The money is yours to keep, either way.”
Either way. Hurt swamped her, unexpected, deep. Not because Walter didn’t trust her. She didn’t care what Walter thought. Walter scared her, but he couldn’t hurt her. Not really.
Garrett could, though, and that knowledge was both shocking and painful.
“No.” Emotion clogged her throat, made her feel nauseous.
“Lanie—”
“No! The answer is no. You can take that back to Walter. Now get out of my room. In fact, get out of Deer Creek.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying in front of him and pressed the buzzer built into the arm of the bed.
A nurse’s voice came over the intercom system. “Can I help you, Mrs. Blakemore?”
Lanie stared at Garrett. “Please leave,” she said quietly, controlling her voice with effort. “I don’t want to cause a scene, but I will. I can get hospital security in here if I have to.”
There was something in his face then that nearly tore her apart. She thought for a second, one insane second, that she had hurt him, too.
And then he walked away.
She burst into tears the instant her door swung shut behind him.
Hormones, she told herself. It was just more awful hormones.
But she was lying to herself and she knew it.
Garrett hit the interstate at full speed, blending into the weekend traffic heading toward the city. Frustration simmered through his veins, along with something unsettling that was gnawing at his gut.
He had an hour’s drive to remember over and over the pain clouding Lanie’s doe eyes when he’d proffered Walter’s deal. She’d made him feel like a heel—again.
But it was over. He’d carried out Walter’s mission, done his duty. If Walter wanted to pursue further contact with Lanie, he’d have to put his attorney on the job. Garrett was finished with this entire matter.
He was leaving for Japan first thing Monday morning. He had no more time for Lanie and the strange feelings she inspired.
It hit him then what one of those strange feelings was. Regret.
Chapter Eight
He was back.
Lanie considered slamming the door in Garrett’s face, leaving him standing on the front porch alone. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a cotton shirt, but he still managed to look crisp and expensive. And transcendently sexy.
She didn’t shut the door in his face—for two reasons. One, she figured he’d just start knocking again and not stop until she opened back up, and two, there was this horrible. traitorous little flutter inside her tummy that made her not want to.
She was glad to see him.
It had been nearly four weeks since the day she’d ordered him from her hospital room, and despite how angry she’d been that day—she was glad to see him now. It was irritating.
“Hello,” she managed in a voice tempered to convey the lie that he was as interesting to her as a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman.
“Hi.” He smiled, showing his exceptionally white teeth.
Had she thoroughly appreciated his beautiful
mouth before? He had a smile that warmed his strong features, lit his dark eyes. She was sinfully aware of every disgustingly magnetic inch of him.
Time stretched out between them. She could hear a mother calling for her children from a house down the street.
She steeled herself. “What are you doing here?” she asked him, her tone forcibly bland. It was a Saturday morning in June, and the Texas weather was hot and sultry already. That would explain why she was sweating. Except that she was standing in the coolness of the doorway, shaded by the front porch.
“I was worried,” Garrett said, watching her steadily with his seductively intense eyes.
“Why?”
“I got back from an overseas business trip this week and I called you—a couple of times. You never picked up the phone.” He took a step toward her, closing the gap between them.
She moved back slightly in reaction, her hand still on the doorjamb. Her heart quickened. “The phone always seems to ring just when I’ve almost got the baby down for a nap.” She shrugged lightly. “I hardly ever pick up the phone lately.”
“I left messages. You didn’t call me back.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about. I’m not interested in Walter’s money, or his tests, or anything else.” She’d received two letters from Walter’s attorney and had ignored them both. She supposed she should have suspected Walter would send Garrett to follow up.
Garrett placed his hand lightly on the door, and she knew he was making sure she couldn’t shut it on him.
“How are you?”
She blinked, prepared for arguing and set slightly off-kilter by the way he’d moved right ahead with the conversation as if she hadn’t spoken.
“I’m fine.”
“And the baby?”
“He’s fine.”
“Gaining weight?”
“Yes. He weighs ten pounds now.” A thread of pride wove into her voice.
“I’d like to see him.” Garrett stepped forward, and Lanie had no choice but to get out of the way unless she wanted to physically bar his path. And she wasn’t about to do that. Just looking at Garrett. did funny, scary things to her insides. She wasn’t going to risk making actual contact.
“He’s sleeping,” she said.
“I’ll wait. If you don’t mind.”
“I’m a little busy,” she countered. “This isn’t a good time.”
“Oh?”
Did he actually look let down, or was she imagining it?
She felt guilty. He was Ben’s cousin, and he’d taken the trouble to come. It wasn’t right for her to prevent him from seeing Dalton. She wouldn’t even prevent Walter from seeing Dalton if he showed up at her house.
“It’s just that I’m opening for business again in two weeks, and I’m not ready,” she explained weakly. “I decided I’d open the other bedroom, the one that wasn’t completely restored. I thought while I had the bed-and-breakfast closed would be a good time to go ahead and finish it up. There’s a festival on the square coming up, so it’s a chance to have a full house, but—”
“But what?” he prodded.
A cry from upstairs broke between them.
“I need to get him.” Lanie turned, fled up the stairs, glad for the chance to get out of the conversation. if only temporarily. She’d been rambling, making excuses, avoiding the truth, which was simply that having him around was more than she could bear.
The last time he’d been around she’d started wanting things she was very afraid he wouldn‘t—couldn’t—give. The man didn’t even trust her, he’d made that much patently obvious. How could she even fantasize about having a relationship with a man who didn’t trust her? What kind of relationship could they possibly have?
None, she answered herself sternly as she pushed open the nursery room door. Dalton’s cries turned to coos as his bright eyes latched on to her. She walked to the crib, her heart full with the powerful mother’s love that energized her every time she looked at her son.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispered, scooping him into her arms. He nuzzled her and she knew he was hungry. Her nipples tingled in response.
She turned, and almost ran into Garrett.
“Oh,” she breathed. “I didn’t realize you’d come up here.” Her heart pounded. He stood close, so close. He wasn’t backing up, and she couldn’t back up—not without jumping into the crib. With the shades drawn tightly, the room was almost dark despite the sunshiny day. Garrett’s eyes glittered in the dim light.
There was a hesitation, mixed with longing, in his gaze. She recognized it all, because she felt the exact same way.
“He’s grown so much already,” he said, breaking the strange synergy, and looked down at Dalton.
Lanie shifted her attention back to the baby, too, unsettled by what she’d seen in Garrett’s eyes.
“Yes, he was at the top of the charts for height and weight at his checkup,” she said proudly. “He was small because he was born a few weeks early, but he’s making up for it.”
“He looks healthy.” Garrett reached out, smoothed his hand over the baby’s fuzzy head, then tucked a finger against his palm. The baby’s hand curled around it, then he turned his small face back toward Lanie.
Dalton’s mouth strained, birdlike, at her breasts. She felt herself grow engorged beneath the lightweight T-shirt she wore.
Her cheeks heated almost painfully, and she scooted sideways to get around Garrett. The nursery was at the end of the hall, next to her room. Across the hall was the room she’d been struggling to complete. The door stood open. She’d been working in there, off and on.
She’d been having a moment of optimistic ambition when she’d booked all three guest rooms for the festival weekend. She’d brought in a ladder and cans of paint, and covered the floor with old sheets. After stripping the yellowed wallpaper that had hung there for no telling how many decades, she’d sanded the walls and trim, but that was about as far as she’d gotten.
“You’re going to have guests in this room in two weeks? And you’re doing all the work?” Garrett looked at her dubiously.
“I can do it.” She didn’t know how, but she wasn’t going to admit that.
Garrett’s gaze narrowed, intensified. Light shafted into the hall from the windows of the unfinished guest room. “Are you sure you should be doing this sort of work right after you’ve had a baby?”
“In some parts of me world, it’s customary for women to work in the fields the same day they have babies. Four weeks postpartum, I think I can paint.”
He wasn’t deterred. “You look tired.”
“Of course I’m tired. I have a newborn, It’s a law. You can’t have a newborn and have a good night’s sleep. You can have one or the other, not both.”
She shifted Dalton onto her shoulder, patted his back through his little undershirt. Garrett looked worried, and that made her feel like mush inside. She’d had friends bring her gifts and food and all sorts of well wishes and concern—so why was she so affected by Garrett’s attention? It was silly and dangerous.
She needed to pull herself together, and as quickly as possible.
“I have to feed Dalton, so please excuse me.” She headed for the privacy of her bedroom.
Nursing the baby was a soothing routine, and behind the closed door of her room she managed to slow her heartbeat and her mind enough to examine her confusing reactions. She was tired, as he’d pointed out. Dalton’s nighttime sleeping patterns were sporadic at best. Not to mention that Garrett was an attractive, sophisticated man—and she was a small-town girl, flattered by his attention.
But despite her vulnerability, she wasn’t naive to the fact that Garrett’s attention could be a ploy. He was here because of the baby—not because of her. He didn’t even trust her.
When Dalton was satisfied, she emerged outside her room. A swish-swish came to her ears from the new guest room, and she paced quickly to the doorway. Garrett had his back to her, muscles flexing in his arms as he pulled the p
aint roller down the far wall, spreading the soft peach color in an even stroke,
She stared for several seconds, speechless. “You’re painting,” she said finally, stupidly. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to do that.”
Garret drew the roller down and turned. “I just knew you were going to say something like that. That’s why I didn’t ask.”
Lanie was so filled with relief and frustration all at once that she didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t the slightest idea how she was going to get the room painted in time, between her ever-present exhaustion and the constant interruptions of caring for the baby. She knew she would do it somehow, though, the same way she did everything she had to do. It was just another example of the Blakemores’ overbearing attitude that Garrett would just step in and take over. And at the same time, it was the sweetest, most touching thing anyone had ever done for her, and she was desperately afraid she was going to burst into grateful tears.
“You must have something else to do today,” she said, sounding wobbly despite her best intentions.
He shook his head, then bent to place the roller on the edge of the paint tray before crossing the room to her. “If I go back to Austin, I’ll probably just go into the office,” he said. “That’s what I usually do on weekends. And the truth is, I don’t need to. So I might as well stay here. I think I’d enjoy this more.”
There was a sense of surprise in his voice at his own words. Lanie’s heart quickened at the note of self-discovery, and she worked to block it out. She didn’t dare let herself be drawn to him, to his sensitivity and kindness. There was too much at stake.
“I’m sure you could find some better way to amuse yourself than painting a room in my house,” she said quickly.
“Do you argue with everyone who tries to help you, or just me?” he asked.
“Just you,” she confessed.
He laughed. “I was afraid of that.”
“Why are you doing this?” she couldn’t help asking, and she found herself holding her breath while she waited for his answer.
He stared at her for a long, quiet moment. “Because you’re family, if nothing else, Lanie. And because I want to.”
The Billionaire and the Bassinet Page 7