Must Love Babies

by Lynnette Austin

  When he walked into the restaurant, he spotted Mr. Stiles sitting toward the back.

  Carrying a babbling Jax, he asked the hostess for a high chair. When he reached the table, Brant nodded. “Mr. Stiles.”

  “Brant. Why don’t you call me Preston? Cut the formalities.”

  “Fine with me.” The high chair arrived, but Jax didn’t want anything to do with it. He clung onto Brant’s neck and shirt, stiffened his legs, and made it clear this wasn’t for him.

  Preston stood. “Let me.” He took the baby from a very surprised Brant and jiggled him a couple of times. “Don’t want to go in there, huh? Sometimes, little man, we have to suck it up for the good of the cause. Uncle Brant and I have a few things to talk about, so let’s get you settled.”

  While he talked, Jax stared at him, jabbering back and running a hand over Stiles’s face. Preston nipped at his fingers, and the baby laughed. Before he knew it, he found himself strapped into the chair and gumming a cracker Preston had handed him.

  “Good work.” Brant eyed Molly’s dad with a little more respect.

  “Trick is to divert their attention. Their thought process is pretty scattered, so give a baby something else to think about, and they’ll forget what they were originally fussing over. Always worked with Molly.”

  “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” Picturing a baby girl with Molly’s dark hair and those big eyes, he smiled. She must have been beautiful even then.

  Their waitress showed up with coffee.

  Brant’s concern for that baby all grown up had him plowing right in. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush. Your daughter has some real issues, and a lot of them are wrapped around you and your wife, the way you ended things. You’re probably wondering who I think I am, talking to you about this, but—”

  Preston held up a hand. “Stop right there. I know who you are. You’re a man who cares about my daughter. Cares enough to put yourself on the line for her. Quite frankly, I like that. I like you. I’m glad Molly has you in her life.”

  Caught off guard, Brant frowned. He’d expected to meet resistance, expected Mr. Stiles to tell him to take a hike. He opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles held up a finger.

  “I’m not done. If you intend to spend much time with my daughter, there are a couple of things you should keep in mind. On the surface, the part of herself she shares with the world, Molly’s all sugar and spice and all that garbage. Beneath? The girl’s stubborn as all get-out.”

  Brant nodded. Hadn’t he thought of her as a strange amalgam of whimsy and business? Hadn’t he witnessed that stubborn streak, bumped heads with her temper?

  “Molly’s mom and I have both told her time and time again that nothing she did or didn’t do caused our breakup. She won’t accept that. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

  “Did you tell her the real reason?”

  “That’s between her mother and me.”

  Brant fed Jax a bite of the mashed potatoes the waitress had delivered. The baby grinned and opened his mouth for more. Scooping up a little butter with the next bite, Brant airplaned it in.

  Then he turned his attention back to Molly’s father. “See, that’s where I disagree. There were three people in that family, in that breakup. You owe it to Molly to come clean, whatever you did.”

  “What makes you so certain I was the guilty party? That I’m the one who did wrong?”

  For the first time since they’d sat down, Brant smiled. “The guy’s always at fault. You don’t know that yet?”

  Her dad chuckled. “You got that right, boy. Guess I should keep that in the forefront, shouldn’t I?”

  “Yes, sir, you should.” He handed Jax a bottle, one he could handle on his own now, and the two men tucked into their own food.

  Brant breathed a little easier. Maybe the Stiles family could, after all this time, find closure.

  And with that, new beginnings?

  *

  Despite telling herself she had no right to be, Molly was miffed. Brant had left the wedding to drive Sam and Cricket to the airport, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since. Fine—it didn’t matter. She had more than enough to keep her busy: cleaning, restocking her fridge and pantry, laundry. All the typical Sunday stuff. Boring, but necessary. She didn’t miss Brant at all. Not one bit.

  Shouldn’t he at least call?

  The sun dipped below the horizon.

  Molly poured a glass of zinfandel and decided to get comfortable. Dressed in a pair of baggy sweats and her old Atlanta Falcons sweatshirt, she sat on her deck watching the stars and remembering last night’s dance with Brant and the one they’d shared right here.

  “What do you say we watch some reruns of Say Yes to the Dress, Bubbles?”

  In no time, she and her fluffy white friend were curled up in bed, watching brides try on dress after dress until they hit the jackpot and found that one creation in all the universe worthy of a walk down the aisle.

  In the middle of their fifth segment, Molly couldn’t stop yawning. “Time to call it a night, pal.”

  The cat yawned and stretched.

  “You too, huh?”

  She clicked off the TV and turned out the light. Her head had barely hit the pillow when she fell asleep. In her dream, she sat behind a desk the size of the Titanic. The phone rang and rang and rang, but she couldn’t find it.

  With a start, she woke. Her cell phone rang again. Blinking, she groped for it. She hadn’t closed her drapes, and the light from a streetlamp at the end of the block cast the room in shadows.

  “Hello?” she mumbled.

  Bubbles, annoyed that her sleep had been interrupted, jumped from the bed.

  “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

  “Brant?” She cleared her throat. “I’m sleeping. Or I was. Is everything okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Look out your front window.”

  She did. He stood on the sidewalk, phone to his ear, devastatingly handsome in a bomber jacket and worn jeans. His Harley was parked at the curb, a helmet dangling from the handlebars.

  “Mmm. There’s a good-lookin’ man outside my apartment.”

  He chuckled. “Everybody at my house, including Jax, is finally asleep. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Will you come down, or can I come up?”

  “Come up. I have ice cream, and I’m willing to share. I’d planned to have it for dessert but ended up with a glass of zin instead. Give me a sec, and I’ll be down to unlock the door.”

  She rushed into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and hair and, looking down at the sweats she’d fallen asleep in, shrugged. This is what a man got when he came calling at—she glanced at the clock—1:22 in the morning.

  They’d both pay for this tomorrow. Later today, rather.

  And she didn’t care.

  A cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on her face, she hurried down the steps.

  The second the door opened, he had her in his arms, his mouth devouring hers. He smelled of fresh air and the night. Then his lips left hers to travel down her neck to the shoulder exposed when her sweatshirt slid from it.

  With a groan, he pulled away to rest his forehead on hers.

  “This isn’t what I came for, although it’s a heck of a bonus. I wanted to see you. To talk to you. I just”—he shook his head—“I just needed to be with you.”

  Stepping back, he held her at arms’ length. “Cute outfit.”

  She grimaced. “Bubbles and I weren’t expecting company, so we went for comfy.”

  “Looks like you’ve got that covered. Falcons, huh? I’d suspect Tyrone gave you that, but from the looks of it, you’ve had it for a while.”

  “My dad bought it for me a few years ago, when we went to one of their games.”

  And that’s why she went to it for comfort, Brant thought. That connection with her father.

  “So where’s the ice cream?” He tipped his
head. “Or did you get me in here on false pretenses?” He’d second-guessed himself the whole way to town, but now he wondered why he hadn’t come sooner. She made him happy.

  “We actually have a choice of flavors.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  In the kitchen, she opened the freezer door and held up two containers. “Chocolate marshmallow or salted caramel blondie.”

  “Ooh, tough decision.”

  “And…” Setting the ice cream on the counter, she pulled a jar of cherries, one of chocolate sauce, and a squirt bottle of whipped cream from the fridge.

  “Somebody’s ready for a party.”

  She swooped back a strand of hair that had fallen forward. “I am.”

  His libido shot through the roof, and he fought to keep his hands to himself. Ice cream, although good, took a distant second to what he really wanted. He needed badly to drag Molly into the bedroom and make wild, crazy love to her.

  But that wasn’t why he’d come. Not entirely, at least. He wanted that, but he needed more.

  “Brant?” Ice cream containers back in hand, she looked at him. “These are cold. Which one?”

  “A scoop of each.”

  “You’re one of those.”

  Minutes later, they sat at her kitchen table with the dark outside her windows. Wrapped in the snug cocoon, he couldn’t remember feeling more content. Right about now was when he usually cut bait and ran. He didn’t want to this time.

  It confused him.

  “We visited Lainey today.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “Far better than I hoped. She looked good and is making plans for the future. In fact, she’s talking about going to work for a landscape business in Lake Delores. She really had it together. And Jax was a trooper. He’s missed his mom.”

  Molly laid her hand over his. “That little guy will get her through this. She loves him.”

  Brant nodded. “So do I. Gonna be rough to let that little stinker go when the time comes.” He hesitated. “Lain got a card from Jason yesterday, wishing her well. He apologized for his behavior at the hospital. Said he’d screwed up—both with her and the baby Not quite sure what to make of that, but we’ll see. He’s moved back to Lake Delores.”

  “And that’s where Lainey’s going after rehab.”

  “Yep. I don’t trust Jason, but Dad will keep an eye on things.”

  “Maybe his moving back is a good thing.”

  Brant sent her a look that said he disagreed.

  “I can tell you from first-hand experience that a child needs his father.” Her voice was velvet-edged, but strong. “Maybe you all need to give Jason a chance. Not for him, but for Jax.”

  A twinge of guilt nearly had Brant confessing to his lunch date with her dad. He resisted. “The guy’s a jerk.”

  “I won’t argue that, but he’s Jax’s father.”

  Brant popped a cherry into his mouth. “Enough about that.”

  When they’d scraped the last bite from their bowls, Brant gathered them up and loaded them into the dishwasher.

  “I should go. Let you get some sleep.”

  Molly said nothing, an invitation in the smoldering depths of her big eyes. She crossed the kitchen, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his chest.

  “I can hear your heartbeat,” she said.

  “I’ll bet you can. It’s getting a power workout tonight.” He raised his hands and ran them through all that gorgeous hair, then dropped them to the sides of her face. “You get to me, Molly. You make it hard to breathe, make my heart pound.”

  She smiled. “Want to come to bed?”

  Okay. Yep. This has to be a dream. A five-star dream.

  “I can’t.” He grimaced. Was that his lips and tongue forming those words?

  “No?”

  He scrubbed both hands over his face, certain the man-card cops would arrive any second to confiscate his, but it couldn’t be helped. “Jax will be up soon, and my brothers and I have a thousand things to do today. I could use a couple more kisses, though, before I head into the dark.”

  Two turned to three, then four. She tasted like chocolate ice cream and Molly, and the need for her grew till he ached.

  He lost the battle. She lost the ugly sweatshirt.

  *

  The sun was peeking through the trees when she walked him downstairs.

  He laced his fingers with hers and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks for the ice cream.”

  “You’re welcome—anytime.”

  All tousled and sexy, Molly stood in the doorway as he pulled out. He revved his bike, waved, and drove off into the early morning.

  Maybe she’d think about him…and forget that list of hers. Those blasted three years.

  It hit him like a brick. The problem between them had nothing to do with the list. Unfortunately, the problem was bigger than that. It was all about trust. Molly needed to learn to trust before she could accept love.

  Chapter 20

  Brant’s brothers gave Misty Bottoms almost two weeks, turning the interior of their new building on its head while simply sprucing up the outside, since the original exterior suited their business perfectly. They added the paint booth as a separate building and extended the original bays to fit their needs. A few changes to the front office left it vintage, yet efficient.

  “We got a lot done,” Tucker said.

  They stood in the parking lot, studying their handiwork.

  “Still a heck of a lot to do, though,” Brant mumbled.

  “It’ll come.”

  “Not tonight.” Gaven kicked at a pebble. “It’s time we come up for air. Other than a trip to visit Lainey last weekend, we’ve been doggin’ it.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Brant rubbed his jaw and realized he needed a shave. Badly.

  “I thought we could get a poker game together.”

  “The three of us?” Tucker asked.

  “No, let’s invite Beck and Cole. Sam’s back from his honeymoon, so he might be able to make it.”

  “I don’t know.” Tucker took another look at the shop. “If you ask me, I say we rip into that lift and get it running.”

  Gaven scowled. “You know what, Bro? You’ve turned into a stickin-the-mud. What happened? Those Marines take all the fun out of you?”

  Brant stepped in before things turned ugly. “Tell you what. A night off will do us all good, and another few hours won’t make much difference. We’ll have the game here, show off our shop.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Tucker. Lighten up.”

  The look Tucker sent his youngest brother reminded Brant that Tucker had seen things, done things in battle they could only guess at. Maybe the Marines and his tours of duty had taken the fun out of their older brother.

  If so, they’d have to help him find it again.

  Brant glanced at the clock. “I need to pick the kid up by five. By then, it’ll be time to stop anyway, since you guys plan to hit the road tomorrow morning.”

  “See?” Gaven looked at Tucker. “Told you.”

  “Cut it out, brat. Nobody likes a bad winner.” Before Gaven even saw it coming, Tucker had him in a headlock and was giving him a Dutch rub.

  Brant shook his head. “I’ll give the guys a call. See if they’re free to play with you kids tonight.”

  It turned out all three were not only free, but eager for a guys’ night out.

  Cole said he’d bring a couple of card tables and some chairs, and Sam offered to pick up the pizzas, since he had to drive right by Mama’s on his way. Beck would furnish dessert, courtesy of his wife’s bakery.

  Gaven ran home to shower before running in to town for ice, beverages, cards, and chips.

  That left Brant and Tucker to sweep up ten layers of dust and debris. Earlier, Brant had anchored temporary sheets of plywood over the pits so nobody would tumble into one accidentally. It would be safe tonight for both the guys and Jax.

  Keeping Jax corralled, th
ough, would be tough.

  Brant leaned on his industrial-sized broom. “Everything okay, Tuck?”

  “Yeah, but Gaven’s right. I do need to lighten up. There’s a lot going on. And with Mom and Lainey…” He shook his head. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”

  “I’m not gonna give you a pat answer, that everything will be okay,” Brant said. “But I will tell you this. We’ll get through it. We’re Wylders, and that’s what we do.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Nothing else bothering you?”

  Tucker looked him straight in the eye. “I won’t lie, Bro. I’m workin’ real hard to delete some footage from the last few years. If nothing else, maybe I can archive it.” He tapped his watch. “Right now, you’d better get into town and spring the kid.”

  “Fine, but if I stop, so do you. The guys know this place is a work in progress. Why don’t you run to the house and get cleaned up? Jax and I’ll stop off on our way so I can catch a shower. Otherwise, nobody’ll want to get near me.”

  “I was gonna mention that,” Tucker said.

  “Hah! You don’t smell like a rose yourself.”

  Tucker sniffed. “Got you.” He grabbed Brant’s broom and carried it with his to the corner. “We’re out of here.”

  *

  Still in uniform, Sam strolled in, carrying two big boxes from Mama’s Pizza and Wings. The rich smell of tomato sauce had everybody’s mouth watering by the time he set them on the office counter.

  “Maybe we should eat first,” Gaven said, “before the pizza gets cold.”

  “I’ll second that,” Beck added quickly. “We were busy at the lumberyard. No lunch.”

  While they ate, Jax sat on Sam’s lap, licking sauce from his finger. “You know, Brant, tonight might have been a mistake.”

  “Why?”

  He nodded at Beck and Cole. “When I started dating Cricket, the guys invited me to a poker game at Cole’s. I wasn’t sure what was being served up that night, pizza or me.”

  “Hey,” Beck said, “Cricket’s my cousin. It’s my job to watch out for her. Strange guy comes into town, messing with our girls…” His gaze swiveled to Brant.

  “See? What’d I tell you?” Sam took another bite of pizza, then gave Jax a piece of crust to gum to death.