Joanie wiped her cheek. She looked up at Steve. “I think you’re right.”
“HAVE YOU EVER given a child a bath?” Joanie asked as Steve wheeled the hotel crib into her unit.
In layout, the place was identical to his. A living room furnished with sofa, easy chair, television and small beverage refrigerator in front, a bathroom and bedroom to the rear. Both were fully carpeted in soft beige, and several pastel seascapes adorned the walls. But Joanie had added many feminine touches. Throw pillows in assorted pastels decorated the sofa. She had brought her own linens for the bedroom and added a rolltop desk.
Now she was sitting on the living room floor sorting through the half-dozen outfits and diapers that had been packed in Emily’s bag. Emily was sitting cross-legged on the floor, busily taking off her one remaining sock and shoe.
“No, never have,” Steve said. “You?”
“I have no experience in that regard whatsoever,” Joanie said with a sigh. “But it can’t be all that hard. I stopped by the gift shop on the way over and picked up a small bottle of baby shampoo.” She showed it to Steve, then bit her lip. “I wonder if I should put some bubble bath in her bathwater.”
Steve shrugged. “I guess it’d be okay. Unless…”
“What?”
“Well, if she splashes a lot and the bubbles are ordinary soap, it could sting her eyes.”
“Ooooh,” Joanie said, imagining the worst. She rose to her feet. “Good point. We wouldn’t want that. Plain bathwater it is, then.”
“Bath,” Emily repeated.
Joanie smiled as Emily tugged and tugged on the toe of her sock until it came all the way off. Delighted to be minus her socks and shoes, Emily wiggled her toes, then got carefully to her feet, apparently testing the feel of the carpet.
“Emily, are you ready for your bath?” Joanie asked. She knelt and held out her arms.
Giggling uproariously, Emily turned and ran in the other direction.
Joanie looked at Steve, glad he was here, glad they had something else to talk about besides their past. “Get the feeling she likes to play chase?” Joanie said.
“Just a little.” Steve grinned, watching as Emily played peekaboo with him from behind the corner of the sofa. He turned back to Joanie contemplatively. “Want me to stay and lend a hand, at least until you get her to sleep?”
“I think you mean if I ever get her to sleep,” Joanie muttered. She picked up a pair of yellow-and-white floral pajamas from the stack of clothing. “And yes, I would appreciate it if you could stay a little longer.”
As Joanie approached Emily, Emily giggled and ducked even farther behind the sofa.
Joanie straightened in exasperation. A consoling hand on her shoulder, Steve pointed her in the direction of the bathroom and suggested, “What do you say I keep an eye on her while you get her bath ready? Then I’ll bring her in and fetch and carry whatever’s needed.”
Joanie felt the warmth and the gentleness of Steve’s touch. And yet she knew, because of what happened between them before, he was the worst man in the world for her. Was there no justice?
“I notice you’re not volunteering to shampoo the applesauce out of her hair,” Joanie observed, crossing her arms.
“But it looks so cute,” he said teasingly.
Joanie wrinkled her nose at him, then, pivoting on her heel, headed through the bedroom into the bathroom. The minute Joanie disappeared from sight, Emily gave up her game of hide-and-seek and toddled after her, waving her arms in the air. “Bye-bye!” she shouted. “Bye-bye!”
His laughter low and enticing, Steve followed the toddler toward the bathroom. He watched as Joanie slipped off her blazer and rolled up the sleeves on her silk blouse. While she knelt down to adjust the bathwater, Emily stood on tiptoes and peered over Joanie’s shoulder.
“Bath?” Emily asked hopefully.
“Yes. It’s time for Emily’s bath,” Joanie announced as she unhooked Emily’s overalls and unsnapped the legs, slipping them down and off. “Is that all right with you, Emily?”
Emily just smiled and lifted her arms so Joanie could take off her matching knit shirt. Undershirt and diaper soon followed. Joanie made sure the temperature was right, then lifted her into the water.
Emily looked down, her disappointment apparent. “Toys?”
“I think she expects some bath toys,” Steve said.
“And I don’t have any.” Joanie frowned. “Oh, dear.”
“Maybe there’s something you could use.” Steve cast a glance around. “We could try these.” He grabbed a plastic water cup next to the sink and a clean, folded washcloth.
“These might work,” Joanie said, handing them to Emily. “And underneath the sink are some old-fashioned plastic rollers.”
Steve dug out a box of jumbo rollers. “Somehow I can’t see you in these.” He chuckled.
“I use them to straighten my hair from time to time,” she explained self-consciously.
“Why would you want to do that?” Steve seemed genuinely perplexed.
“Sometimes I like my hair straight. If you have naturally curly hair, that’s how you straighten it. You set it on big rollers and let it dry that way.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t do it often. Only when I want to wear my hair in a chignon or something.” Joanie dropped a bunch of rollers in the bathwater.
They floated. Emily loved them.
“Now that she’s otherwise amused, maybe it’s time we used the shampoo.” Joanie dampened Emily’s sticky hair with the washcloth, then put a dollop of golden shampoo in her hair. As soon as Joanie began to lather it gently, Emily got into the act.
“Em-lee help,” she said, pushing her fingers through her halo of suds.
“Emily’s a big help,” Steve agreed.
“Em-lee out!” Emily demanded.
“Oh, honey, we haven’t rinsed your hair yet,” Joanie said.
“Em-lee out! “Emily tried to scramble to her feet.
Joanie held on to Emily’s waist, so she wouldn’t slip and fall. “Now what?” she said over her shoulder, glad she had put aside her feelings toward Steve temporarily and allowed him to stay. This was one of those times when two baby-sitters were better than one.
“Now it’s time for Super Steve to come to the rescue,” he said. He pushed up his sleeves and got down on his knees beside Joanie so close their shoulders were touching. He dunked the plastic cup into the water, filling it to the brim. “You hold her and try to distract her for a moment, and I’ll rinse.”
“Look up there, Emily,” Joanie said, pointing to the shower nozzle. She didn’t want soapy water getting in Emily’s eyes. “See that?”
Emily looked. Steve rinsed. Joanie continued, “What is that thing up there, Emily? Is it a shower?”
Steve rinsed again. And again and again, as Emily babbled nonsensically. Somehow they managed to get the suds out of the toddler’s hair without getting either shampoo or water in her eyes. Joanie lifted her out of the tub and Steve handed her a towel. Minutes later they had Emily dressed and in pajamas.
“Goo’ Mama,” Emily said, circling Joanie’s neck with her arms. She snuggled closer. “Goo’ Mama.”
Joanie hugged Emily back. “The way she keeps repeating that…I think she’s trying to tell us something,” Joanie said with a puzzled frown.
“Maybe that she thinks you’re a good mother,” Steve said.
“But I’m not,” Joanie replied, embarrassed again as she lifted her face to his. “Her mother, that is.”
Steve gave Joanie a skeptical look, but said nothing more. “How are we going to get her to sleep?” he asked casually, hanging up the towel and collecting the “toys.”
“I doubt just putting her down in the crib would work.”
“I doubt so, too.” Steve sighed. “Driving babies around in a car is supposed to work. I mean, I’ve seen it on TV.”
“Only one problem there,” Joanie said, gathering up Emily’s blanket and teddy. She walked ove
r to the sofa. Emily climbed up beside her and scrambled onto her lap. “I don’t have a car.”
“We could try a golf cart,” he suggested, knowing he was loathe to leave.
A knock sounded at the door. Howard Forsythe appeared, a rocking chair in his arms. “Liz told her grandmother about the baby, and Elizabeth sent this over.”
“How nice of her.” Joanie made a mental note to call and thank Elizabeth. “Thank you for bringing it over, Howard.”
“Everything okay here?” Howard asked Joanie protectively.
It was all Joanie could do not to grin. Howard was acting like a father whose daughter was on her first date, but then, maybe that was because he had children of his own.
Joanie nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
“Rock?” Emily asked, tugging Joanie’s sleeve. “You rock?” she asked plaintively.
“Yes, I’ll rock you, honey,” Joanie said softly, able to see at once how tired Emily was. Emily laid her head on Joanie’s shoulder and hugged her fiercely, her blanket and teddy caught up between them.
Howard looked at Steve and then the door. It was clear to all that the men’s presence was no longer needed.
Steve headed for the door with Howard right behind him. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything,” Steve promised.
“You can call me and Catherine, too,” Howard offered.
Joanie smiled, aware there was something very sweet and fulfilling about holding a baby in her arms, even if she couldn’t claim Emily as her own. “Thanks, guys, but I think she’ll fall asleep as long as there’s nothing much going on here, so if you’d just turn off that lamp next to the door on your way out, I’d be much obliged.”
After they’d left, Joanie rocked Emily for several minutes. Emily kept repeating the phrase “Goo’ Mama,” or sometimes “Geh Mama.” Joanie knew Emily was probably asking for Fiona, and it broke her heart.
“Sing,” Emily said sleepily, cuddling closer. “Sing ‘mit-sog.”
“Mit-sog, mit-sog, mit-sog,” Joanie murmured, trying to make some sense of Emily’s words. “Oh, Em, how about this one, instead?” She launched into the only song she could think of at the moment—”It Had to Be You.”
STEVE SAT on the steps outside his quarters listening to the melodious sound of Joanie’s voice singing, of all things, “It Had to Be You” to little Emily. He couldn’t help but shake his head at her selection. Was she trying to tell him something? Or just admitting to herself what he had finally concluded—that after two years, three months and too many days and even more hours apart, there was no one else for either of them. And never would be. It didn’t matter what Joanie had done. Or what she still evidently thought he had done. He could see she loved Emily. She probably even loved him, though she’d be damned if she’d admit it. All he had to do was figure a way for everything to work out for the best for everyone.
EMILY WAS ASLEEP. Joanie could hear it in the slow, steady meter of her breath and feel it in the motionless weight of her body. Whether or not she could actually put the toddler in the crib without her waking, she didn’t know, but she was determined to try.
Still singing softly, she got up carefully and glided over to the crib. One hand behind Emily’s head, the other beneath her bottom, she lowered her ever so gently down onto the mattress. Emily whimpered slightly but otherwise didn’t stir as Joanie tucked her teddy beneath her arm and covered her with her favorite blanket. Only as she backed away, did Joanie realize she was perspiring. This instant-motherhood business was taking more out of her than she’d expected, even if it was only temporary.
Deciding a little fresh air would do her good, Joanie stepped outside onto the front stoop, shutting the door quietly behind her.
The scent of roses floated on the soft island breeze. Cicadas chirped in the silence of the evening, and farther away a lone bullfrog croaked.
Just then Steve headed across the narrow grassy rectangle between their two front walks. “Emily asleep?” he asked.
Aware her heart had begun pounding at breakneck speed, Joanie nodded. “For the moment, anyway.” Now she wished she hadn’t come outside. She didn’t need to see Steve in the moonlight, didn’t need to see the moonlight glinting off his burnished gold hair or illuminating the handsome features of his face. She didn’t need to feel a resurgence of all those old, romantic feelings that she’d tried her hardest to put away for good.
“I thought you’d left,” she said.
Steve shook his head, and as he did, Joanie saw there was something different in his silver gray eyes, something she’d have one hell of a time reckoning with.
“Well…” Joanie backed up toward her door, intending to go back in before she forgot herself and what had happened in the past and let this moment turn into something she’d regret. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her skirt to hide their trembling. “I’d better go back in. Emily—”
“Not so fast,” Steve said gruffly as his hand shot out to encircle her wrist. He tugged her close, the warmth of the island night nothing compared to the warmth of him. “We have to talk.”
Chapter Three
“Is Emily’s appearance the reason you were so unhappy to see me today?” Steve demanded. He clasped her arms lightly and looked down at her, his eyes intense.
“Is that what you think?” Joanie shook free of his grasp. Was that why he’d been helpful? she wondered, upset.
Steve jammed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to think.”
Joanie breathed in the sea air. “I have good reason to hold you in very low esteem. Furthermore, if you remember,” she replied, moving away from him, “the one and only time we were together, we took precautions.”
Steve followed her to the edge of the portico. He leaned against the post, his eyes alight with desire. “Precautions sometimes fail,” he said softly.
Joanie had made a complete and utter fool of herself by trusting him once. She wasn’t about to do it again, no matter what he said. “I know the time frame fits, Steve, but I repeat—Emily is not your child.”
Steve hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on either side of his fly and lifted a brow. “Was there someone else besides Dylan, then?”
“I do not sleep around!”
He watched her through narrowed eyes. “And you’re implying I do?”
Anger roiled inside Joanie. She shrugged, wanting to hurt him the way he had hurt her. “If the shoe fits—”
“It doesn’t.”
“But you have been known to have naked women in your bed,” she asserted. Joanie recalled very well finding one there.
“I told you,” Steve returned with exaggerated patience, “that was not my fault. That was just some groupie.”
Joanie wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Right.”
“I was expecting you that night,” Steve continued.
“Not until much later,” Joanie reminded Steve in a scathing voice. She shook her head grimly, recounting in a low, strangled voice, “The worst part is, if I had gotten off work on time that night, I never would have known you’d had another woman there, in your bed, before me.”
“I didn’t know she was in the room.”
Joanie clenched her hands into fists. “Then how did she get in?” she demanded, the old hurt and humiliation welling up out of nowhere.
“Beats me.” Steve shrugged. “I was in the shower, getting ready for our date.”
Trying desperately to ignore how good he looked with the moonlight gilding the handsome contours of his face, Joanie folded her arms in front of her and assumed a contentious stance. “You’re denying you ordered room service and asked for champagne and strawberries?”
“It was supposed to be served later,” he explained reasonably. “Just before you arrived.”
“Until you called down and asked it be sent up early,” Joanie corrected, gritting her teeth.
“I told you.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I did not do that. The woman…in my bed…must have.”
“How did she know you had placed the order?” Joanie asked impatiently.
Steve rubbed a contemplative hand across his jaw. “She probably read the notepad beside the phone. I had jotted down a list of things to do that evening before you arrived. Placing that order was one of them.”
Joanie turned away, reminding herself Steve had had a good two years and three months to come up with a reasonable explanation. It didn’t matter that this all made sense now in a convoluted way, at least to him. She knew what she had seen then and it wasn’t pretty.
Steve grasped her shoulders and turned her back around. “I wanted to be with you that night, Joanie,” he swore passionately. “I was waiting for you. I don’t know how that woman got in there, but she did. She got undressed and got into my bed while I was in the shower. She let you in while I was still in the shower. The first I knew of either of you being there was when I heard voices and stepped out.”
“I remember that all right,” Joanie said. Steve, dripping wet, shampoo still in his hair, a towel around his waist. The stunned expression on his face as he regarded the voluptuous redhead, wrapped only in his bedsheet, and Joanie, her face white and enraged all at once.
She’d felt like such a fool. Like such a stupid, stupid fool. Falling head over heels in love with a man in just one week. When she, as a hotel employee, had been warned repeatedly by co-workers and superiors not to indulge in a vacation romance with a hotel guest for just this very reason.
“If you’d only stopped to listen—”
“I saw what I needed to see.”
“No,” Steve corrected, leaning defiantly close. “You saw what you wanted to see. You saw enough to give you license to walk away.”
Joanie tipped her head back, but didn’t move away. “You didn’t come after me.”
“I didn’t see any reason to until I got that other woman out of my suite and got dressed.” He scowled. “By the time I made it across town to your apartment, you were long gone.”
Joanie shrugged insouciantly. “I had vacation coming.”
Steve studied her, clearly annoyed. “You mean you ran,” he said.
Matchmaking Baby Page 4