Be My Baby

by Fiona Harper

  It had been her best perfume. The one she saved for really special occasions. The fact she’d chosen to wear that one had solidified the half-doubts and questions he’d been having for some time. It was that scent that had caused him to jump in his car and follow her.

  Gaby was looking at him. He ripped the door open, walked through it and kept going across the hallway and into the lounge.

  He didn’t want to analyse why making comparisons between Lucy and Gaby should bother him. He just knew he wanted Gaby to be different. He didn’t want to find out that the warm, caring, serene person was a front for something else.

  He was so lost in stewing over the past, he almost didn’t notice Gaby enter the room a few minutes later. He looked up and knew from her reaction that he wasn’t wearing his happy face. Too bad. It was the best he could do now the dark memories had started circling round him.

  ‘Presenting Miss Heather Armstrong,’ Gaby announced, with a flourish of her hand.

  Luke was definitely not ready for what he saw next. It could have been someone else’s daughter standing in the doorway, a hopeful expression in her large eyes. Gone was his little girl, and in her place was a stranger, her hair cut in some kind of layered style that ended around her shoulders. A stranger who no longer wore a familiar scowl, but sparkled and shone.

  There was no sign of the baby pink dress he’d expected. Instead he could see hot pink jeans and a glittery silver top. True, it had sleeves, not straps, and it didn’t reveal any flesh, but it was far too grown up for his little Heather.

  He stood up. ‘My God, what on earth are you wearing?’

  Heather’s face fell. ‘Don’t you like it? Gaby helped me pick it out.’

  He shot an accusing look at her partner in crime, but Gaby didn’t look one bit repentant. Instead, she looked as if she were about to rip his head off.

  ‘She looks lovely. Doesn’t she, Luke?’

  He opened his mouth to reply, but a flash of something sparkly in Heather’s ear caught his eye. He marched towards his daughter and lifted her hair away from the side of her head.

  ‘Pierced ears! At your age? Take them out right now!’

  Heather’s hands flew over her ears. Now she wore a more familiar expression. The one with seven kinds of hatred for him in her eyes. So why didn’t that make things better?

  ‘You always spoil everything!’ she screamed, then she spun around and raced out of the room and up the stairs.

  He turned his attention to Gaby, whose face was a shade of pink he’d never seen before.

  ‘How dare you? How dare you do that to my little girl?’

  Gaby’s jaw clenched.

  ‘I’m waiting. What on earth were you thinking?’

  She looked at the floor. He had a feeling she was about to unleash the torrent she’d been holding back since he’d first opened his mouth. But when she looked up at him again, she merely said, ‘You’re right to be angry. I was wrong to let Heather get her ears pierced without your permission. I’m really sorry. We just got carried away…’

  That was it? How about telling him to get a grip, that it wasn’t as if she were wearing a three-inch mini-skirt and a crop top? Or that ninety per cent of the girls in Heather’s class had their ears pierced. She was just going to suck up all that righteous anger and buckle under?

  It was then that he realised he wanted her to fight with him. He was sick of seeing her sweep all her negative emotions under the carpet and pretend they didn’t exist. The childish urge to push the issue was so strong it was practically irresistible. He wanted to see the ever-calm Gaby lose her cool. And, underneath the layers of bluff, he thought maybe she wanted it too.

  ‘You’re such a coward, Gaby!’

  ‘I’m what?’

  Her chin trembled, but not with the threat of tears. It was the effort of holding back her anger. The knowledge only spurred him on further.

  ‘You heard. You think I’m being unreasonable and you’re too gutless to say it.’

  She’d be right, of course, if she did tell him he was being unfair. Maybe that was why he wanted to hear it from her. Perhaps it would help stop the rollercoaster his emotions were riding on at the moment. Heaven knew he was powerless to do it himself.

  But that wasn’t it, and he knew it. He wanted to see her skin flush and her eyes flash, just as they were doing now.

  ‘Too gutless?’

  ‘That’s right. You’re too scared to tell people what you really think, in case they don’t like you any more. Well, get over it!’ He knew he was pushing her too far, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  ‘You want to know what I really think?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  She faltered when he said that, as if she hadn’t actually expected anyone to be interested in what she had to say. But he could see she was revving up to it, and the adrenaline surge that hit him made him feel triumphant at the prospect.

  ‘Okay, okay. Just give me a second.’ She was all jittery, hardly able to keep still. She plunged her hands into her jeans pockets, pulled them out again and smoothed down her hair. He almost laughed at the gesture. Even when she was about to yell, she couldn’t help making some part of herself more presentable.

  ‘I think…I think you’re too hard on Heather!’ The words fell out in a jumble. He wasn’t sure whether he thought she looked surprised or relieved she’d got the sentence out.

  ‘Too hard?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How?’

  She shoved her hands back in her pockets.

  ‘Come on, Gaby, don’t lose it now! Don’t water it down and make it nice. Just let the words come out the way they want to.’

  He saw fire glint in her eyes and his stomach rolled. He’d better be ready for what he was prodding her into unleashing.

  ‘You are a control freak, Luke Armstrong! If you can’t get your own way, you have a tantrum. And you wonder where Heather gets it from!’ She wasn’t shouting, or at least not speaking at shouting volume, but her words carried the same vehemence as if she were shrieking at the top of her lungs.

  ‘I think you bully her. I think you push and push to make her match the idea of the perfect daughter you have in your head. But it’s stifling her, Luke! Suffocating her. One day you’ll open your eyes and realise you’ve snuffed out the wonderful spark inside her, and she’ll never forgive you for it. You’ll never forgive yourself, either. So if you want that for her, just keep going the way you are, but don’t expect me to hang around and watch you do it!’

  All the time she’d been speaking her eyes hadn’t left him. She’d fixed him with an intense, burning stare and he was unable to look away. She broke eye contact and looked at the ceiling.

  ‘You need to give her space to be herself, Luke. To love her, you need to let her be free.’

  Her eyes returned to him as she spoke the last phrase. She wasn’t quite so heated now and her breathing was fast and shallow. Somewhere along the line they’d stopped talking about just Heather.

  Adrenaline from the row was still crashing through his system. In the silence, he could hear it inside his head, throbbing in his ears. And all he could see were those chestnut eyes, waiting for him to respond. But, instead of being shuttered, they glowed with a defiant light.

  She looked incredible. Lit up from the inside. In fact, she looked so alive that the only possible response was to close the distance between them, cup her face in his hands and kiss her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HIS lips met hers and she reeled with shock. One moment she’d been ready to punch his lights out, now her hands were moving from where they’d been dangling at her sides to smooth over the muscles of his shoulders. She shouldn’t be hanging on to him like this! She ought to be slapping his face.

  And she probably would have done, if the kiss had been different. In the split second before he’d kissed her, she’d thought it was going to be as forceful as his journey across the room, but she was wrong.

  His lips were soft and t
ender and working a crazy kind of magic inside her. His hands moved from her face to cradle the back of her neck and run through her hair. Any self-respecting female would melt at this point—and she didn’t think she was far from it. There was already a worrying tingling in the tips of her toes.

  She didn’t have any choice in the matter. She had to kiss him back. And as she did, everything seemed to spiral in slow motion. She clasped her fingers behind his neck and relaxed into the kiss.

  Oh, wow!

  The pins and needles that had started in her toes, now prickled behind her knees. You couldn’t lose consciousness from a kiss, could you? Luke’s mouth moved from her mouth to her neck and she decided it was entirely possible.

  They were perfectly in tune with each other and, for once in her life, everything seemed to be a perfect fit. Being here in Luke’s arms felt so natural, so right. She forgot all the reasons why this was sheer madness and lost herself in the moment.

  The sound of a door banging upstairs made them spring apart like a pair of guilty fourteen-year-olds caught behind the bike sheds. They stared at each other, eyes like saucers. If it were any consolation, he looked twice as shocked as she felt.

  ‘Heather,’ she managed to croak.

  His tore his eyes from her and focused on the door. ‘Yes. Heather. Right. I’d better go and—’

  ‘Yes, you’d better.’

  And then he was gone. Gaby slumped into the nearest chair and put trembling fingers to her lips. They pulsed as if he were still kissing her.

  Luke paused on the landing to muster his scattered emotions. Had he lost his mind? A quick look at the haggard face in the mirror at the top of the stairs told him he wasn’t far off.

  He’d kissed Gaby. The nanny!

  Except she was more than that. Only he didn’t know what. He only knew she got inside his skin and he didn’t know why. But he didn’t have time to ponder that right now; he had a daughter to sort out. Her sobs were audible though her closed bedroom door.

  What had he done?

  He knocked lightly on the door. ‘Heather?’ Some unintelligible wailing was his reply. He pushed the door open gently and stepped inside. She was curled up on the bed, her back to him, hugging her cuddly rabbit.

  ‘Heather, sweetheart? I’m so sorry.’

  She lifted her head to look at him with surprise. And no wonder. Usually, after he’d yelled at her for no good reason, he just brushed it away and never talked about it again. All this time he’d never once apologised. Somehow it had seemed like it was admitting failure and weakness, and that wasn’t what she needed from him. How could he have got it so wrong?

  ‘I really am sorry, darling. Will you forgive me?’

  Now she sat up and looked at him. ‘Me? Forgive you?’

  ‘Yes. Dads make mistakes sometimes too, you know. And I think I’ve been making far too many since we’ve been living together again.’

  Heather sniffed and he offered her a tissue from the box on the dressing table.

  ‘I wish I could start it all again, go back a few months and be a different kind of dad. A better one, anyway. I know it’s difficult to understand, but being away…in prison…made it hard for me to be anything but angry—at everyone and everything, not just you. And I wish I hadn’t, Heather.’ His voice began to wobble. ‘I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.’

  Heather reached out and touched the place where a tear was trailing down his left cheek. She followed it with her finger, clearly astonished at the sight of it. And then her face crumpled and her own tears came hot and fast. He pulled her into his arms and she clung on to him. They stayed there, rocking almost imperceptibly, for what seemed an age.

  When finally it didn’t seem like an impossible task to loosen his arms, he pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. She was still confused, but the rage was no longer there.

  ‘I meant it, sweetheart. I want to try and do things differently from now on. I can’t promise I’m going to get it right all the time, but I’m going to try my hardest. You’re all I’ve got and I don’t want to lose you.’

  She nodded, then smiled a little. And he knew she’d forgiven him. Just like that. All he’d needed to do was open up to her a little, show her it was hard for him too, and then they could weather the storms together.

  ‘Stand up and show me your outfit again.’

  Heather shook her head and curled forwards slightly.

  ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. I was just surprised at how grown-up you looked. Scared I was going to lose my little girl before I got to know her again, I suppose.’

  Heather didn’t stand up, but she stretched out a little so he could see her top.

  ‘It’s very pretty,’ he said. ‘And you look beautiful in it. A lot like your mum, in fact.’ That had to have been the first time he’d talked about her mother with her since his release.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sure. You’re going to be the belle of the ball.’

  She blushed and looked away. ‘It’s only a stupid party, Dad.’

  He smiled and stroked her hair. ‘Well, you’ll be the belle of the stupid party, then.’

  She giggled and smiled back at him, her eyes still wet and pink.

  How had a little honesty been so hard? Why hadn’t he just said all of this months ago? He didn’t know, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Gaby had something to do with unlocking the things trapped inside him.

  Gaby.

  What the hell was he going to do about Gaby?

  More to the point, what the hell was he going to do about the fact that, not only had he just had the most mind-blowing kiss of his life with her, but that he was dangerously close to running downstairs and doing it again?

  He ran his hands through his hair and looked at his watch. He had to take Heather to the party in half an hour. Perhaps when he got back they could talk, although he had no idea what he was going to say.

  I think I like you? I want to get to know you better?

  It all sounded pretty pathetic.

  Gaby closed the bedroom door behind her and leant against it. Luke had left to take Heather to the party and she’d crept upstairs from where she’d been hiding in the kitchen. Her fingers wandered to her lips again.

  Before she could lose herself in yet another slow-motion replay of the kiss, she marched herself to the wardrobe and pulled her biggest suitcase down from on top of it. The she opened a drawer and started flinging things inside. What things exactly, she wasn’t sure, but as long as belongings were filling up the case she was heading in the right direction.

  She couldn’t stay here now. Not just because Luke had kissed her, but also because she’d sunk into it with such enthusiasm. And, more than that, the deal clincher, was that she knew it wasn’t just a physical thing.

  Luke kissing her—and her kissing him back—had just solidified the vague feelings she’d been trying to stifle. She’d fallen into the trap she’d known was here from the beginning. She’d started to care too much.

  She almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get too close to her charge this time, and she’d just about succeeded. Oh, no, this time she’d really fouled up. This time she’d started having feelings for her boss.

  Damn him for being so brave and vulnerable and in need of love! Didn’t he know she couldn’t resist a sob story?

  Of course he didn’t. How could he?

  But the fact that Luke Armstrong often couldn’t see what was staring him in the face made him all the more appealing. He thought he presented such a tough exterior, being all grouchy and keep-out-ish, but it was so easy to read him. So easy to see that it was all a front, and that underneath he was warm and giving and thoughtful.

  She could pretend with him when he did his grumpy act, but when he did things like buying her salt and pepper prawns and letting her talk about things she loved without looking down on her, it was fatal.

  She jammed a shoe into the case, whether it wanted
to fit or not. He should have known! He should have known that sort of behaviour was going to make her fall in love with him.

  She stopped, then picked up another shoe and wedged it slowly into a space in the corner of the case. No, she wasn’t in love with LukeArmstrong. Not yet. But she was getting dangerously close.

  And, although she was going to miss both him and Heather dreadfully if she left, it would hurt them more if she stayed. The last thing they needed right now was more emotional complications.

  Just as she reached for one of her slippers, there was a light tap at the door.

  She scrunched up her face and answered through clenched teeth. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Gaby? Can I come in?’

  Rats! He was back. How was she going to face him when her cheeks were all flushed and her voice was all wobbly? He’d know!

  ‘Erm…okay.’

  She clutched the slipper to her chest as the door swung gently open. And there he was, filling the door frame, looking all serious and sorry and just plain delectable.

  ‘Listen, Gaby, I’m not sure what to say about…’ His eyes drifted from her to the case on the bed, then back to the slipper she was squeezing the life out of. ‘Oh.’

  Oh? That was all he had to say?

  He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. She waited for him to carry on, but he seemed totally engrossed in studying the suitcase, the open drawers and cupboard doors—the general devastation. And finally, when it seemed he’d taken in each far-flung sock and knocked over bottle of moisturiser, he looked at her again.

  ‘Gaby. I can see you’re…Please don’t leave!’

  Her eyes widened. She’d never seen him like this before. He was actually talking straight from the heart: no filters, no barriers. Her own heart started to thump, even though it should have known it was totally inappropriate, and she heard a little mantra start up in the back of her head.