“What about you?” she asked, hoping to influence his verdict. “Are you lonely?”
The fire’s crackle grew louder as she watched the slow descent of his head. Her stomach twisted with anticipation while her knees threatened to give out. She sighed when his lips finally caressed her own to intoxicate her more than the wine.
Leila slid her hands up his chest and then looped them around his neck. She dangled from a magical cloud and he was an old wish materialized.
The hunger in his kiss demanded something she wasn’t sure she wanted to give. His strong hands emoted more than strength—more than security. Suddenly, she realized she was in over her head.
Her imagination took hold of her and snapshots of mind-blowing sex filled her head. Her body ached, but she wanted him to make the next move.
Once again, Emma proved she had perfect or rather lousy timing. Leila wasn’t sure of which.
Garrick ended the kiss and sounded like a man who’d just completed the Peachtree Road Race.
She, too, couldn’t catch her breath and, worse, she was already feeling signs of addiction. “I better go check on Emma,” she whispered.
He swallowed and nodded.
“Are you going to be here when I get back?”
Once again, he appeared fascinated by her lips; but after a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a wise idea. What will the neighbors think?”
She tried to smile, but her disappointment prevented her. “Then I’ll go ahead and say good-night.”
Garrick leaned forward and she closed her eyes, waiting for the last taste of sin. Instead, his lips brushed against her forehead.
Her eyes flew open in shock, yet she held her tongue as he turned away and headed toward the front door. She collected herself and followed.
Emma quieted; undoubtedly she’d fallen back to sleep. However, the damage had already been done and the night’s stardust had faded.
At the open door, Garrick turned toward her. “Don’t forget, if you need anything—”
“You’ll be the first person I’ll call.”
He nodded, lingered for a moment, and then finally crossed the threshold and stepped into the black velvet night.
“Bye,” she said.
“Good night.”
She smiled and watched him cross the street before she closed and locked the door. She immediately reminisced on their kiss and a glorious warmth returned. “Until next time.”
Chapter 9
Garrick couldn’t sleep.
How could he with so many erotic thoughts of his neighbor floating around in his head? I did the right thing. However, his body disagreed.
She wanted him, that much he knew for sure. There was no question what he wanted; but in that one moment when he could have taken it, his head had jarred with warning bells.
Leila Owens was a career woman. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she ate, slept and lived Atlanta Spice magazine. For all her talk about women being able to juggle career and family, she showed no signs of ever exercising the second option.
Of course, there was nothing stopping him from having a casual fling—other than a severe case of common sense. Plus, at his age, he needed something more than just the physical. He liked being in a relationship. Being a yang to someone’s yin. He needed a deeper connection. Something spiritual as well as physical.
Garrick cleared his thoughts and laughed. Undoubtedly, he would be a hopeless romantic to the end. Against his will, his mind looped an image of Leila peeling out of her white sequined dress and revealing a physique that had all his body parts itching to touch her.
He closed his eyes and could still taste her wine-flavored lips and feel her heartbeat against his chest. She had awakened something in him and he was torn on what he wanted to do about it.
Garrick tossed around, pounded his pillow, and still sleep eluded him. It didn’t make any sense; he hardly knew the woman…and she was everything he didn’t want in a partner.
“Lord, save me from gold diggers and career-driven women,” he mumbled. However, he had a sneaky suspicion his prayer fell on deaf ears.
Time crept at a snail’s pace until dawn colored the horizon. Only then did Garrick’s eyelids grow heavy with sleep; yet, Leila refused to be banished from his thoughts. Her sweet, floral-scented hair and her classic perfume flooded his senses while her wonderful belly laugh played like music in his ears.
On the second day Leila strolled through the doors of Atlanta Spice with a baby in her arms, she received just as many stares as she had on the first. Until she hired a nanny, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Like the previous day, Emma charmed members of her staff with her chubby cheeks, wide brown eyes and her infectious laugh.
“I see you survived another night,” Ciara said, breezing into Leila’s office with a stack of copy-edits. “Or should I say, just barely? You need to put some cucumbers on your eyes for those bags.”
“Thanks for the beauty tip.”
“Did Emma keep you up? How did your meeting go? Did you get your hunky neighbor to babysit? Have you jumped his bones yet?”
“Whoa. Whoa. One question at a time.” Leila placed Emma inside her playpen. “And how are you going to ask about my jumping someone’s bones in front of my niece?”
“She doesn’t know what we’re talking about.”
Leila drew a deep, patient breath as she made it around to her desk. “Children are like sponges. They absorb everything,” she echoed and then remembered who had told her that.
“Is that right?” Ciara’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she folded her arms. “You’re a surrogate mom for five days and already you’re an expert on child behavior?” Her smile widened. “I have to remember to write this day down for the history books.”
“Ha. Ha. Not funny.” Leila settled into her chair and booted up her computer. “The answer to your question is no.”
“To which question?”
Leila dropped her elbows onto her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. Emma slept through the night. The meeting was a disaster. Yes, I had my hunky next-door neighbor to babysit. And no, I didn’t jump his bones.”
“Oh.” Ciara frowned. “What happened at the meeting?”
Leila drew another breath and relayed every painstaking detail of her business dinner with Mr. Porter. When she finished, Ciara looked shell-shocked.
“I’m going to be laid off?” She blinked. “But I’m pregnant. I need the health-care benefits.”
“Calm down. No one is being laid off. I’m not going to accept their offer.”
“You’re going to turn down sixty-five million dollars? Are you crazy?”
“It’s not about the money,” Leila huffed, and glanced over at Emma, who drooled on her stuffed frog. “Some things are more important than that.”
Ciara followed her gaze and then glanced back at her boss. “Are we talking about the same thing here?”
Leila’s gaze shifted to Ciara. “Atlanta Spice isn’t for sale. It’s my dream. It’s my heart. It’s my everything.”
“You don’t have a plan B, do you?”
A sad smile ghosted around Leila’s lips while she shook her head. “I put all my eggs in this one basket.”
“Yeah, but it’s one hell of a basket.”
“What? You’re encouraging me to sell now?”
Emma scrunched up her face and started to cry.
Leila’s body deflated as she exhaled in exhaustion. “I still hadn’t had my morning cup of coffee.”
“I’m right on it.” Ciara turned and marched toward the door, stopping briefly to pinch Emma’s cheek.
Emma’s fake cries stopped long enough for her eyes to follow Leila’s secretary out the door.
“I knew you were a faker,” Leila smirked.
Emma turned back and looked at her aunt through the pen’s mesh netting and giggled.
“Okay, we need to come to an unde
rstanding, young lady.” Leila leaned forward in her desk. “I need for you to be on your best behavior.”
Her niece nodded.
“Good. I have to find a new distributor, hire you a nanny, and find your mother. Oh, yeah, and run a magazine.”
Emma giggled again.
“I’m serious. You do me this favor…and I’ll personally pay for your college education.” Leila studied her. “Do we have a deal?”
Emma nodded and gurgled nonsense.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Twenty minutes later, all deals were off.
As soon as Leila jumped on the phone, Emma screamed bloody murder. No amount of bouncing or patting soothed her and the child ignored all stuffed animals and toys.
Ciara stepped in, but she, too, was at a loss as to what was wrong with the child.
“Ciara, find me a mother in this office and get her in here quick. I have a conference call in five minutes.”
“You got it.”
“Oh, baby. Please. What’s wrong?”
Emma’s screams heightened while fat crocodile tears leaked from her eyes.
Leila retrieved the pink diaper bag and pulled out every toy she could find. Nothing worked. “Baby, please don’t do this to me,” she moaned. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?”
Her niece took mercy and downgraded her outburst to loud, spasmodic sniffles and Leila waylaid hitting the panic button.
A hard knock disrupted the peace and Emma once again filled her lungs and belted another ear-piercing scream.
“Come in,” Leila shouted, praying for someone who knew what to do; instead, Mr. Porter glided through the door.
He entered and froze in his tracks. “Is this a bad time?”
She blinked. “Uh, no,” Leila said. “C’mon in.” Mentally, she finally hit her panic button and rushed over to her desk to buzz for Ciara.
Of course, Ciara wasn’t at her desk.
“So.” She turned to face Porter. “What brings you by?”
Emma kicked and tried to shimmy out of her aunt’s arms.
Porter frowned at the screaming baby and then smacked his hand against his face. “Well, I feel foolish. I went on and on about the ticking of your biological clock and you’ve already beat the alarm.”
“What?”
“Your baby.” He chuckled awkwardly.
“No, uh, this is my niece. I’m sort of watching her for a while.” She buzzed Ciara again.
“Oh.” He winced as the child discovered a new octave, and then glanced around.
“Please have a seat,” she offered and resumed bouncing and patting.
Porter hesitated, but then lowered into the leather couch against the wall. Something squeaked and he jumped up. He turned around and plucked Emma’s rubber ducky from the chair.
Leila flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem.” Porter waved off her concerns. “Used to happen to me all the time at home.”
“Leila, I found…” Ciara tugged Sylvia from the reception desk in behind her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have Mr. Porter on your schedule.”
“Just dropped by, actually,” he shouted.
Sylvia rushed over to Leila and extracted Emma. “I’ll take her so you two can talk.”
“I think that I may need to take her to a pediatrician,” Leila said.
Sylvia felt Emma’s head. “She does have a slight fever.” Next she stuck her finger in the child’s mouth, and then smiled. “Ah, I know what’s wrong with you.”
“You do?” Leila’s shoulders slumped with visible relief.
“Sure do.” Sylvia nodded with a broad grin. “She’s teething.”
Chapter 10
“I’m telling you, you’re going to love Vanessa,” Tamara boasted as she unloaded groceries into Garrick’s refrigerator. “I wrote up a list of pros and cons last night and I’m convinced you two will be married within a year.”
Garrick’s eyebrows jumped to the center of his forehead while he was in mid chug from his Gatorade bottle.
“Now, I know you’re thinking I must be crazy, but I’ve thought long and hard about this,” she continued without sparing him a glance. “You were right the other day.”
He drained the rest of the bottle and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. “About what?”
“You needing a stay-at-home wife.”
“I never said that. There’s a big difference from a woman with a job and a woman obsessed with climbing the corporate ladder.”
Tamara rolled her eyes. “Whatever. My point is—you need someone to look after you. I mean, there are more items in a grocery store than hot dogs and Gatorade.”
Garrick’s back stiffened. “I was going shopping right after my workout.” He gestured to his sweat-soaked workout clothes.
“You couldn’t prove it by me.” Tamara laughed and moved to stock the cabinets. “Anyway, Vanessa has been a widow for five years and I’ve convinced her it’s time for her to get back into the dating scene.”
“Is that right?” He settled at the breakfast bar. “You’re a regular little busybody, aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with looking out for my loved ones, is there?”
Garrick smiled.
“Besides,” she continued. “Vanessa is perfect. She’s smart, beautiful and, other than her charity work, she wants to be a stay-at-home mom.”
“Children?”
Tamara stopped to flash a dimpled smile. “No, but she mentioned to me the other day about hearing her biological clock ticking.”
“Well, looks like you have everything covered. Just tell me the wedding date and I’ll be there.”
“Very funny.” She folded her arms. “If you think I’m being pushy, you can tell me.”
He hesitated.
“You do, don’t you?” Her voice rose defensively. “If you want, I’ll call Vanessa right now and cancel—”
Garrick chuckled as he held up his hand. “No. No. It’s just that maybe you’re moving things a little too fast.”
“But—”
“In five minutes you’ve predicted marriage within a year, how bad the woman’s biological clock is ticking, and I haven’t even met her yet.”
Tamara opened her mouth for rebuttal, but when none came, she closed her mouth and slumped in defeat. “You’re right.”
“I’m what?” He blinked.
“Don’t gloat.” She shut the cabinet door and crossed the kitchen to join him at the breakfast bar. “I just want you to be happy,” she said. “After Miranda—I just feel sort of responsible.”
“Responsible?”
“I did introduce you two, remember?”
Touched, Garrick reached for her hand. “I had no idea you felt that way.” He studied her and thought for the millionth time that his brother was a lucky man. “Miranda and I weren’t right for each other. We married for all the wrong reasons. It’s nobody’s fault. The most important thing is that she’s happy and…”
Tamara caught his hesitation. “Are you happy?”
He thought about giving her a fluff answer, but the moment called for honesty. “I think I’m at a crossroad,” he admitted.
“What do you mean?” She leaned forward and sandwiched his hand.
Garrick thought for a moment. “I think you’re right. I do need someone to take care of me, but more importantly I love taking care of a woman. I want to be someone’s rock. It’s nice feeling needed, you know?”
“What?”
He shook off his musing. “Nothing. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He sighed when Leila’s face surfaced in his mind. “The funny thing is—what I thought I didn’t want may be the very thing I need.”
At wits end, Leila canceled all her appointments and returned home with a full-fledged migraine. At least Emma finally cut her a break and fell asleep during the ride.
“God knew what he was doing when he made babi
es cute. Otherwise, it just isn’t worth the trouble,” she said with a smile and unbuckled the car seat. She extracted Emma and closed the car door, but before she headed toward the house, Garrick, with his arm draped around a woman, caught her attention.
The lady looked familiar, but Leila had a hard time placing the face from across the street. Judging by their body language, and she felt like an expert, the two were extremely comfortable with each other.
Pure unadulterated jealousy surprised Leila and curdled her stomach. Just last night, he’d had his arms wrapped around her and his mouth…
Garrick looked up and caught Leila’s stare. He smiled and thrust up his chin as if to ask what’s up?
Embarrassed to have been caught staring, Leila fluttered a smile, and then turned away. Careful and conscious not to race like a scared rabbit back to the house, she took her time to stroll in long, measured steps with her head held high.
Even as she did so, she felt the weight of Garrick’s stare follow her. On one hand, she would give anything to know what he was thinking and on the other, she wondered why she should care.
Once she made it inside and closed the door, she exhaled before her lungs exploded. However, her curiosity about Garrick and the mystery lady failed to wane. She set the car seat down next to the door and turned to peer out the peephole.
“Where is he?” She squinted and moved around, trying to locate him. Unsuccessful, she walked over to the glass paneling next to the door. Leila finally spotted Garrick, standing and laughing with his female friend. Her jealousy returned in full force.
Leila’s gaze raked the competition and she frowned. Competition? Was she seriously interested in her neighbor—especially after his rejection last night? And it was rejection. She couldn’t have been more clear about what she wanted if she’d had glowing orange lights directing him to the bedroom.
And he had turned her down.
Last night, Garrick had talked of his divorce, but she’d failed to ask key questions like: Was he dating someone serious? It would make sense. A man like Garrick Grayson wouldn’t be on the market long—even if he did need a lesson in women’s studies. Leila considered the shapely woman and then sucked in a painful gasp when Garrick leaned forward and kissed the woman.
She’s My Baby Page 6