When he was with her, there was something alive in him that hadn’t been alive in a long time. It was something he barely recognized, something that had been walled over one brick at a time since he was nine years old and had learned that his parents were dead.
The wall had become complete the day he’d walked in and found Vanessa in another man’s arms. Now there was a breach in that wall, a brick pulled loose.
And through that crevice he felt his heart. It was alive and beating despite all his neglect, and it was telling him something.
Did he dare listen?
Saturday evening, Lanie slipped Dalton gently into his crib and stared down at his tiny sleeping form. He was such a miracle. She smiled in spite of the doldrums she’d been wallowing in for days.
Garrett hadn’t called back, hadn’t suggested another visitation with Dalton. It was for the best, she repeated her now-familiar mantra.
She walked back downstairs. Late-afternoon golden light striped the house. With the baby asleep, it was the perfect time for her to do something useful, like organize her books. Or her kitchen drawers. Anything to take her mind off what she might have been doing this evening—spending time with Garrett.
It was time for her to forget about Garrett Blakemore for good.
A knock brought her around. She went to the front door.
“Hello,” Garrett said with a big, sexy smile, his dark eyes gleaming. He held a large picnic hamper in one arm and a teddy bear in the other. He wore jeans and a spiffy Western-style shirt that was, of course, perfectly ironed.
She took it all in, her mind spinning. Her own attire registered with a jolt. She was wearing a hiplength ivory nightie under an equally brief matching robe, with fluffy slippers on her feet and her hair scraped back into a French braid.
She stood there, looking at him blankly, a slow wave of embarrassment warming her face. Trying not to be too obvious about it, she felt for the sash and tied the robe together.
“How’s Dalton?” Garrett asked, displaying no evidence in his tone that he noticed her apparel, but a certain hot, hungry light in his eyes as he looked at her added to her discomfort.
She worked to act completely natural. “He’s still sniffly, but his fever is down.”
“Good.” He smiled again. “I’m glad to hear that,” he added.
“He’s sleeping right now.”
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Okay.” She moved aside to let him enter.
He handed her the bear. “This is for Dalton.”
She accepted the gift. “Thank you.” She remembered how she’d cried over a cookie commercial when she was five months pregnant. She felt the same way right now, about Garrett and his teddy bear. He hadn’t forgotten about Dalton, hadn’t lost interest.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him finally, struggling not to get any more sappy and silly than she already was. She was, she decided, definitely experiencing postpartum hormones.
“We had plans for a picnic,” he pointed out. His gaze raked her. She could see an amused, intrigued flash in his dark eyes when they returned to lock on hers. “Did you forget?”
“No, I thought—” She broke off, wrapping her arms tight around herself. “I thought it was off.”
“I knew you didn’t want to take him out to the park today,” he said, “but I was hoping we could have our picnic here. If that’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay at all—because every time she looked at him, all she could think about was how it had felt to kiss him. But she couldn’t explain that, so she had to say, “Of course,” and start praying for selective amnesia.
Chapter Eleven
Lanie smoothed her hands down the sides of her shrimp-colored blouse, tucking the soft material into the waistband of white shorts. She scrutinized herself in the full-length antique mirror in her bedroom. Outside, Garrett was setting up the picnic he’d brought, while she’d gone upstairs to get dressed. She’d taken down her hair, combed it out into thick waves that whispered. over her bare shoulders.
She turned to the side, ran her hand over her tummy with a critical eye. Her stomach would never be as flat as it had been before she’d carried Dalton. But she’d lost much of the baby weight, thanks to breast-feeding. Dalton was a big eater. What weight she hadn’t lost added the fullness of curves where there hadn’t been any before—her hips, her tummy, her breasts.
She had a woman’s body now, not a girl’s anymore. But she felt like a girl tonight, at least inside. A girl not more than sixteen. Her pulse raced, and flutters filled her stomach. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes glowed.
She felt shy and uncertain, full of anticipation.
It was Garrett. She was grateful for the attention he was giving Dalton, she told herself. But she knew that didn’t completely explain her feelings.
Which meant she had a problem. A big problem.
Dalton was still sleeping soundly when she checked on him. She brought the baby monitor downstairs and picked up the portable radio on her way through the house. She found Garrett in the yard, spreading out a quilt she’d given him for that purpose. He’d chosen a flat spot beneath a tree. The sky was dusky, and the half-moon was already visible above them. The evening air was warm, bat when he straightened and looked at her, with the branches of the tree casting shadows over his hard-planed features, she shivered.
“Hi.” She let go of the screen door, then walked across the deck and onto the grass. “Dalton’s still asleep. Hopefully, he’ll be up soon.”
“Great.” He smiled at her.
She spoke again, nervous. “I brought the radio.” She was afraid of being alone with Garrett and thought the boom box could fill any silences. She switched it on. It was on her usual country-western station. A fast-paced song poured out. She was grateful for the noise.
“Are you hungry?” Garrett asked.
“Yes, thanks.” She sat, tucking her legs beneath her, and Garrett knelt to begin unloading the basket. It was filled with sandwiches, cold salads and soft drinks. He’d already brought out ice-filled glasses, plates and silverware from the kitchen. “I’m always starving lately,” she said. “Because of the baby.”
She was feeling light-headed, though she knew that wasn’t because she was hungry. Her control was draining away. She needed to get it back, quickly.
Just as he handed her a plate, a wail came from the baby monitor. Lanie could have collapsed with relief. This whole setup was way too romantic.
“I’d better go get him.” She started to get up, but Garrett wouldn’t have it.
“Let me. If you don’t mind?”
“Okay.” She watched him as he strode back to the house, admiring his trim, muscular body, the calm authority with which he carried himself. A rush of physical attraction swept over her.
She took a gulp of her cold drink and thought about what a good thing it was that it wasn’t alcoholic. As if she weren’t intoxicated enough already, just looking at Garrett. But she had no business responding to him this way. Garrett’s relationship was with Dalton, not with her.
A few minutes later, Garrett rejoined her, Dalton carefully balanced in the crook of his arm. The baby’s face was starting to fill out, his cheeks plumping with health, his little eyes shining. His dark hair stood straight up from his head in fuzzy abandon. She’d dressed him in a one-piece snapped cotton outfit decorated with colorful dinosaurs. Settled in Garrett’s arms, he cooed and blew bubbles and looked surprisingly content.
“Want me to take him?” she offered as Garrett. reached her.
“He doesn’t seem hungry, does he?” Garrett asked. “Is it all right if I keep the little guy for a while, until he needs you?”
“Oh. Okay.”
She watched as Garrett sat down across from her, nimbly sliding Dalton up onto his shoulder, holding the baby with one strong hand while he picked up his drink with the other and took a sip.
She took a bite of her food. It was delicious, but she realized for o
nce she wasn’t hungry, even though she’d been telling Garrett the truth about her big appetite. But right now she was nervous and excited, and it was hard to concentrate on food.
“You looked so afraid of holding him the day he was born,” she commented. “Now you look like a natural.” The tender ease with which Garrett held her son made her eyes sting. It was sad, really sad, she thought suddenly, that Garrett. seemed to have given up on love. He had the makings of a wonderful father.
It occurred to her that at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he was comfortable taking Dalton out for visits without her accompaniment. The thought depressed her.
“I wouldn’t say I’m a natural, but I’m a fast learner,” he said. He took a bite of his own food, juggling the baby to maneuver around him. After swallowing, he added, “This baby stuff is no big deal, right, slugger?”
He sent Lanie a warm, teasing grin.
“Oh, sure, you’re not here at 2:00 a.m.,” Lanie returned, trying to sound careless.
The offhand comment backfired when she saw the spark of heat flare in his eyes. No, he wasn’t here at 2:00 a.m., but he wouldn’t mind it and neither would she. She figured she’d taken a turn down a conversational road they didn’t need to follow.
She tried to think of another topic, but then Dalton started to fuss a little, and she watched as Garrett put down his sandwich and with one strong hand supporting the baby’s head, jiggled him very lightly. Dalton smiled, quieted, then in another second, spewed spit-up all over Garrett’s front.
Lanie gasped. “Oh, no.”
“Is something wrong with him?” Garrett asked, his face a mask of shock. He held the baby out in front of him, gaping down at his sodden lap.
“I’m so sorry!” Lanie leaned over, scooped up Dalton. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with him. He does this all the time. It’s just, you know, a baby thing.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
He stood, unbuttoning and then stripping off his soaked shirt. Lanie scrambled up, Dalton still in her arms.
“I’ll find you some clothes to wear,” she offered. “I can go ahead and wash your shirt while you’re here. And your pants.”
“Uh, yeah, I’d appreciate that,” he said dryly.
Lanie felt a gurgle in her throat, then she was laughing, she couldn’t help it. And he was laughing, too, thank goodness.
“I’m sorry,” she said, gasping out the words as she tried to get hold of herself, biting down on her lip to keep from laughing again.
Her gaze fell to Garrett’s bare chest then, and a spear of desire settled within her. A slight scattering of dark fuzz covered his developed muscles. She looked up, found him watching her.
“We’d better get Dalton changed, and get those clothes in the wash,” she said quickly. “Come on.” She headed inside, glad to have something concrete with which to occupy herself. “I’m just really, really sorry this happened.”
Garrett stopped her, reaching around to grip her arm. “Stop apologizing,” he said firmly. “It’s okay. Like you said, it’s a baby thing. I don’t mind.”
“You don’t mind baby spit-up? Even I mind baby spit-up and he’s my—”
Garrett silenced her by touching his fingers softly to her mouth. The gesture was impossibly natural, as if they’d known each other for years. It was dreamy, intimate.
The moment grew even more dreamy when he leaned in, closer, his thumb rubbing down along her jaw, and she thought he was going to kiss her again, and then Dalton squawked, cocooned as he was between them. Garrett dropped his hand, stepped back.
Lanie felt like she was going to die, she was so disappointed. It took her a couple of dizzy seconds to remember what she was supposed to be doing. Laundry. She was going to find some clothes for Garrett and wash his soiled things.
“Okay, wait here while I get some fresh clothes,” she said and took off upstairs. She changed Dalton into a clean outfit in his room and brought down a T-shirt and pair of shorts for Garrett from one of the boxes of Ben’s things.
Garrett changed quickly in the downstairs bathroom, then took Dalton outside while Lanie set the controls on the laundry machine.
When she came back out, she found Garrett dancing with Dalton beneath the tree. He whirled slowly to the music from the radio, the baby braced carefully against his chest. Dalton squealed, his big eyes bright and happy.
She stood just outside the back door, watching Garrett with her son. A blossom of emotion spread out from her heart, unfolding to every part of her body.
Instinctively, she didn’t want to name the emotion. But not naming it didn’t make it any less real. The knowledge brought with it a tremble of trepidation—and a thrill of elation at the same time.
What was she going to do? Every moment she spent with Garrett was dangerous. She kept thinking about how he’d said she made him want to believe in fairy tales. Could she make him believe in love again?
She pressed her hand to her lips. It was a crazy thought. Insane. So why was it so hard to dismiss?
Garrett saw her then and he stopped, walked across to her with Dalton. The baby reached his arms up at her, and she took him. Her mind was still spinning with confusing feelings, and she needed something to focus on. Luckily, there was still dinner.
“Okay, I really am starving now,” she announced, and settled down on the quilt again. They ate. listening to the radio and talking about casual things while Dalton gurgled from her lap.
Garrett asked her about the deck, and she told him how she’d had it built last year, though it was still incomplete. The lawn swept downward from the house, leaving a slight dropoff at the edge of the wooden structure. She kept hoping she’d have the funds to expand the deck, add a second tier with railings. She had a lot of plans.
She wondered where Garrett would fit into her plans, her future. Or if he would fit in at all.
Later she went inside to tuck Garrett’s clothes into the dryer and to take a few minutes to feed the baby in private. When she came back out, Garrett was sitting on the love-seat-size glider on the deck. She joined him there, propping Dalton across her legs, and breathed in the fresh night.
“Dalton’s going to be getting sleepy soon, I think,” she said. “Do you want to rock him upstairs in his room before you leave?”
“Thanks. Yes.”
“Okay. Your things will be dry in a little while.”
“This has been nice,” he commented after a few minutes.
Garrett knew as he said it that he was making a vast understatement. He couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed an evening this much. With Lanie, he appreciated the simple things in life, like a baby’s smile.
She made him feel alive. And the funny thing was, he hadn’t even realized he was dead. Not until he’d set eyes on her. That was when it had started. Right then, the second she’d opened her door that first day.
“Baby spit-up and all?” Lanie probed, smiling her angel smile.
“Yep.” He reached over and squeezed her hand briefly in his. She stared at him, her wide eyes suddenly serious and afraid. He let go of her hand, realizing instinctively that his touch was what caused her reaction. “It was just a touch, Lanie, that’s all. No kissing, I know that. I remember the rules.” He tried to make light of things between them. “Of course, if you change your mind and want to kiss, I’m always available,” he said, and he was only half teasing.
“Stop it.” She hit him in the arm, her words playful, though her eyes remained nervous. “I just want to be sure we remember what’s important here. Dalton. This isn’t about you and me.”
He agreed with her intellectually, though he wondered if it was already too late. If it was already just as much about himself and Lanie as it was about Dalton.
“We have to learn to work together for Dalton’s best interests,” she remarked. She sounded very prim and purposeful. He noticed she wasn’t looking him in the eye.
“What is it that scares you so much
about kissing me?” he asked, determined to not be diverted.
She looked him in the eye then. “What?”
“What’s wrong with kissing?” he probed. “It’s a natural human instinct.” And he was chock-full of natural human instinct.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, looking even more skittish than before.
“I mean kissing, like this.” And before she could move, he dipped his head and placed his lips on hers, gently, and then drew back. “See? It’s just a kiss. Nothing to be scared of.” It struck him that they needed to get this attraction out in the open, stop hiding from it. He’d been hiding from so many feelings for so long. He didn’t want to hide anymore. Lanie made him want to explore, to feel.
She was just staring at him, her eyes huge and dark in the falling night. He leaned in and captured her mouth again, devouring her this time, and she didn’t resist. He wanted to drive out her hesitation, her fears—the way she drove out his—in an explosion of incendiary passion. The low, sexy sound she made, the capitulation to his sensual plunder, sent his head spinning. He knew what he needed—heart-stopping, mind-blowing, shockingly intense sex. And he needed it with Lanie.
Then she tore her mouth away. “No, stop,” she breathed, and suddenly she was pushing at him with her hands against his chest.
“Why?” he demanded, his heart racing.
“Because I don’t kiss men I’m not having a relationship with,” she said, panic flaring in her eyes as she clutched at Dalton, pulling him out of her lap and up to her heaving breast. “And we’ve already established we’re not having a relationship.”
“Maybe it’s time to reevaluate,” he countered, working to steady his own raging pulse. “Look, I’m serious about getting to know Dalton, which means you and I are going to be spending some time together. It’s silly for us to pretend we’re not attracted to each other, don’t you think? Can we just stop pretending? That’s all I’m suggesting.”
Lanie stared at Garrett, uncertain how to respond. She wanted to throw caution to the winds, but she was afraid.
The Billionaire and the Bassinet Page 10