Since Dylan had witnessed her tears not so long ago, he surmised that the euphoria hadn’t lasted. “Was the pregnancy difficult?”
“Oh, no. Not at all.”
“And did people ask questions?”
“My staff was actually fairly small. And we each worked on a particular aspect of the project. So we were more like professional acquaintances than the kind of deeper connections you sometimes make in an office environment. My friend Janette knew the truth. Frankly, she thought it was a bad idea all along...tried to talk me out of it more than once. But she was supportive once I actually became pregnant. She even went with me to childbirth classes and stayed with me at the hospital when Cora was born.”
“So what went wrong? Why did you come back to Silver Glen and walk into my bar?”
She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, her gaze bleak. “A dreadful domino of events. My job paid well, and I had a healthy savings portfolio. But I drained all of it trying to get pregnant. Even that didn’t seem so irresponsible, because I knew that I could live on a strict budget and build up my savings again. Only I hadn’t counted on the fickle finger of fate.”
“Meaning?”
“While I was on maternity leave, the funding for my research and my lab was eliminated. Big-time budget cuts. So now I had a brand-new baby and no job. And, as a wonderful dollop of icing on the cake, my roommate with whom I rented a condo decided to move in with her boyfriend.”
He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, smiling at her with an abundance of sympathy. “That sucks.”
She managed a somewhat teary chuckle. “I probably wouldn’t be such a basket case if little Cora here slept at night. But no matter how many books I read and how many theories I try, all she wants to do is snooze during the day and play all night.”
“I don’t blame her. That’s my M.O. sometimes.”
His droll humor made her smile, when the last thing she felt like doing was smiling. She remembered that about him. Dylan was always the life of the party. He could rally a crowd around a cause, and best of all, he wasn’t moody. Some guys like him, i.e. rich and handsome, were egotists. But Dylan was the opposite.
He’d spent his high school years trying to prove that he was one of the gang. No one special.
She felt embarrassed suddenly. He must think she was a total nutcase. It was time to go. But just as she was gathering herself to depart, little Cora stirred and cried out.
Dylan’s face softened as he focused on the tiny hands that flailed above the edge of the blanket. “Somebody is about to get mad.”
“I need to feed her.”
“Do you have baby food with you? I can send one of the staff to the store to get some.”
“Um...no...thanks. I need to feed her. You know...nurse her.”
His neck turned red. She could swear his gaze brushed across her breasts before landing somewhere on the far wall. “Of course. No problem. There’s a comfy chair in the bedroom. Will that work?”
“That would be perfect.” She rummaged in the bag for a clean diaper and a pack of baby wipes, conscious that he noted her every move. “I won’t be too long. But don’t feel like you have to entertain me. It’s been fun catching up. I’ll leave when I’m done.”
He stood when she did, watching intently as she scooped Cora into her arms and bounced her so the baby’s displeasure didn’t escalate into a full-blown crying fit. Fortunately, Cora settled down and even smiled.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dylan said. “I don’t want you to rush off. In fact, I’d love to hold Cora for a little while when you’re done. Would you mind?”
She gaped at him. Big, brawny Dylan Kavanagh wanted to hold a baby? The thought sent a warm curl of something humming in the pit of her stomach. What was it about men and babies that made women go all gooey inside? “Of course I don’t mind. But don’t you have things to do?”
He tucked his hands in his back pockets and shook his head, his face alight with mischief. “Are you kidding? Mia Larin has come back to town all grown up. This is the most interesting encounter I’ve had in a month. Go feed the little one. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Three
Dylan watched Mia walk into the bedroom and push the door closed, though the latch didn’t click shut. His brain whirled with a dozen thoughts and emotions as he wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t sat down beside her at the bar. Would Mia have taken the baby back out to the car and driven away?
The thought made him uneasy. Had she sought him out on purpose, or was their meeting an accident?
He paced the room, wondering how long it took a woman to nurse a baby. Thinking about Mia baring her breasts and feeding her child was not wise. He had the weirdest urge to go in there and watch. Such a normal, human activity shouldn’t affect him so strongly. Maybe it was because in his memories Mia was little more than a young girl herself.
Women were always at a disadvantage when it came to child rearing. It was all well and good to say a mother could have everything—career and family life. But it required a hell of a lot of juggling and tag-team parenting to make it work. Dylan’s mother, when widowed long ago with seven boys, had leaned on her eldest son, Liam, to help carry the load.
Mia had no one.
Dylan could have gone back downstairs for a few minutes. He could have turned on the television. He could have sat down and relaxed after a long day. But instead, he paced. Things he didn’t even know he remembered came rushing back from his subconscious. The way young Mia had chewed on the ends of her erasers. The little huffing sound of exasperation she made when she thought Dylan wasn’t trying hard enough. The small frown that appeared between her eyebrows when she concentrated.
Oddly enough, he had found the eraser thing endearing. It made her seem human. Most of the time Mia’s grasp of the kind of books that befuddled Dylan either baffled him or angered him or embarrassed him. As an adult, he understood that his academic difficulties were the result of a very specific problem. But he still reacted to the memories with an inward wince that told him he had a chip on his shoulder, even now.
Without thinking about what he was doing, he worked his way toward the bedroom door. Because the door didn’t latch and because it was old and not level, the crack between the door and the frame had gradually widened. Dylan stood mesmerized, seeing only a slice of the room beyond. But it was enough to witness the quiet radiance on Mia’s face. The way she looked at her baby made his chest tighten.
He rested a hand on the doorframe, swallowing hard as he realized that one of Mia’s breasts was bare. He couldn’t really see all that much from his vantage point. Spying on her was unforgiveable. But he couldn’t look away from the picture of mother and child. The entire world was made up of moments like these, day after day.
For Dylan, however, it was brand-new. Witnessing it wrenched something inside his chest. Seeing Liam with Zoe these past few months had made Dylan vulnerable somehow...as if he couldn’t help but wonder whether he would ever want that kind of tie...that kind of bond.
As Mia buttoned her blouse, he retreated hurriedly. By the time she walked into the living room, he was leafing through a magazine that had been left behind. He looked up and smiled. “Is her tummy full?”
“It is indeed. She’s very happy at the moment if you were serious about holding her.”
“Of course I was.” As he took the baby from Mia, his hand brushed her chest inadvertently. He was a grown man. It shouldn’t have embarrassed him. But all he could think about was the curve of Mia’s breast as she offered it to this infant. He turned away so he could hide the fact that he was flustered. “She’s beautiful.”
“I think so, but I suppose I’m prejudiced.”
In his peripheral vision he saw Mia sit down on the sofa again. He circled the room slowly, singing nonsens
e songs, crooning bits of nursery rhymes he remembered from his childhood. He could swear that Cora’s big, dark eyes, so like her mother’s, focused on his face.
Half turning, he spoke softly. “She’s going to be a charmer. I think she’s flirting with me.” When there was no response from Mia, he looked over his shoulder. She was curled up on the sofa, her cheek pillowed on one hand. Apparently she had plopped down and simply gone to sleep. Instantly.
He shook his head at Cora. “You’re going to have to give Mommy a break, little one. She’s worn out.”
Debating his options, he decided to sneak downstairs and let Mia rest. The town had declared all public buildings no-smoking zones last year, so there would be nothing to harm the baby. And besides, Mia had been the one to bring her child into the bar. Surely she wouldn’t mind.
* * *
Mia awoke slowly, completely disoriented. Had Cora cried out? She listened for a moment, and then in a blinding rush of recollection she realized where she was. But as she sat up and glanced around, she noted that her daughter and Dylan were nowhere to be found.
Telling herself there was no need to panic, she scrubbed her hands over her face and tried to shake off the feeling of being drugged. The nap had helped, but it wasn’t the same as a full night’s sleep. She stood up and stretched.
Grabbing her things, she smoothed her shirt and her hair and walked downstairs. The bar was still noisy and busy. When she actually looked at her watch, she groaned. It was after midnight. She found Dylan seated in a booth playing patty-cake with her baby. Standing two deep at his elbow was a group of fawning women. Now this was the Dylan she remembered. She wasn’t sure, however, that she appreciated his using her baby as entertainment for his admirers.
Behind the bar, the big man who had poured her drinks earlier sketched a wave as he continued serving customers. Good heavens, what must Dylan’s employees think of Mia’s presence? Of Cora’s?
Screwing up her courage, she edged toward the booth. Though she was no longer a social disaster, approaching a cluster of strangers still wasn’t easy for her. She cleared her throat to attract Dylan’s attention. “I need to go,” she said.
Dylan had the good sense to look abashed. “Sorry. I didn’t see you standing there. Did you sleep well?”
The expression of every woman in earshot was the same. Shock. Dismay. Vested calculation.
Mia wanted to tell them not to worry, but it didn’t seem the time. She held out her arms for Cora. “I’ll take her. Thanks for dinner.”
As Dylan wiggled his way out of the booth, his entourage melted away. He moved closer to Mia, forcing the two of them into an intimate circle. “Don’t be in such a damned hurry.”
She put her hands over Cora’s ears, scowling. “Watch your mouth. I’m surprised to see you looking so comfortable and domesticated with Cora. Or was that nothing but an act for your groupies?”
His eyebrows rose to his hairline, but still he didn’t surrender the baby. “The little Mia I knew was never sarcastic.”
“The little Mia you knew wouldn’t say boo to a goose. I’m not a child anymore.”
He stared at her. Hard. The way a man stares at a woman. “No, you definitely are not.”
It appeared that the man flirted indiscriminately, because she knew for a fact that he had no interest in her. “Give me my child.”
Holding Cora even more tightly, he nodded his head toward the back. “I’ve got a closet-size office back there. Give me fifteen minutes. Then if you want to go, I won’t stop you.”
She was confused and tired and more than a little depressed. But short of wrestling him to the ground and making a scene, it appeared she had no choice. “Fine. Fifteen minutes.”
Dylan’s office was a wreck. He must have been telling the truth about his bookkeeper, because there was easily a week’s worth of receipts and purchase orders stacked haphazardly across the surface of the scarred oak table he used as a desk. Still holding Cora, he motioned Mia into one of two chairs in the small space. “I have a proposition for you.”
“You must be hard up if you’re propositioning a nursing mom with a bad haircut and legs that haven’t been shaved in two weeks.”
This time she definitely saw him wince. “You used to be a lot sweeter, Mia Larin.”
“I’m a mom now. I can’t be a pushover. Are you ever going to give her back to me?”
He kissed the top of Cora’s downy head. “You forget that I have five brothers younger than me. I’ve changed more than my share of diapers over the years.”
“But not recently.”
“No. Not recently.”
If he had an agenda for this awkward meeting, he was taking his good easy time getting to the point. “What do you want from me, Dylan?”
His smile could have charmed the bloomers off an old-maid schoolteacher. “I want to offer you a job.”
“Doing what?”
He waved a hand at the mess. “Being my new bookkeeper.”
“That’s absurd. I’m not an accountant.”
He propped a hip against the table, forcing her to look at all the places his jeans were soft and worn. “You’re a genius,” he said, the words oddly inflected. “Keeping the books for the Silver Dollar Saloon isn’t exactly rocket science.”
“I don’t need you to bail me out, Dylan. But thanks for the offer.” Watching him absently stroke her daughter’s hair undermined her hurry to leave. Dylan was big and strong and unabashedly masculine. But his hands held Cora gently.
“We’d be helping each other,” he insisted. “The job comes with room and board. Or at least until you get tired of the food downstairs. I live five miles away, so you don’t have to worry about me getting underfoot. There’s an alarm system. You would be perfectly safe alone here when we’re closed. I know the bar gets pretty noisy at times, but a fan or a sound machine would probably do the trick. The insulation between the floors is actually pretty good.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You need some time to regroup. I need a bookkeeper. You won’t have to worry about day care. Cora is welcome here always. And with a salary coming in—though I’m sure it’s not even in the ballpark of what you were making in your field— you’ll be comfortable and settled while you look for a new position.”
It was a testament to her desperation that she considered it. Her résumé would have to be updated before she could job hunt. And the thought of spending more time with Cora was irresistible. Doing Dylan’s books could be handled while Cora napped. But still she wasn’t satisfied.
Shaking her head, she studied his face. “You can’t tell me that you offer jobs to every hard-luck case who walks through the door. Why me? Why now?”
“I think you know why,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze squarely. “I owe you more than I can ever repay. I’m sorry that I was a stupid teenage boy too proud to acknowledge what you were doing for me. But I’m saying it now. Thank you, Mia. For everything. The job is real. Please let me do this for you. It would mean a lot to me.”
“You’re serious? It was a long time ago, Dylan. And I liked tutoring you. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Then do it for Cora. Before you lost your job, you would have had to go back to work soon. Now you have a chance to spend several more weeks with her. Isn’t that enough to make you say yes?”
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Mia found herself checking into a hot, musty, generic motel room out at the interstate. Dylan had tried hard to get her to spend the night upstairs above the bar. But she needed some space and distance to weigh the pros and cons of his unexpected offer. He had the uncanny ability to make people see things his way. She wanted to be sure she was considering all the aspects of his proposal before she gave him an answer.
The pluses were obvious. Time with her daughter. A
n immediate paycheck. No need to look for a new place to live when her lease ran out in a week. And it wasn’t as if she had a lot of other appealing choices. She would get a job in the Raleigh/Durham area eventually, once she found another lab looking for her set of skills. If she were lucky, the employer might even offer on-site, discounted day care. She knew of several companies that did so. But tracking down such a position would take time—time when she wasn’t bringing in money and didn’t have a place to live.
Or if she agreed to work for Dylan, she would have a roof over her head, food to eat and more time with Cora while she looked for employment in her field. Only a fool would say no—right?
Then why was she hesitating?
It all came down to Dylan. It was one thing for a young girl to have a crush on a popular senior jock. That was practically a rite of passage. But as Dylan had pointed out, Mia was all grown up. And her reactions to the equally grown-up Dylan were alarming.
The times she had tried dating in her adult life had been either disastrous or disappointing. Until she walked through the doors of the Silver Dollar Saloon, she had honestly thought she didn’t have much of an interest in sex or men. But coming face-to-face with Dylan exposed the lie she had told herself for years.
Dylan wasn’t a high school crush. He was the boy, now the man, who had made her aware of her sexual self. His masculine strength and power made her feel intensely female. In every other area of her life, people looked at her as a brain first and foremost.
She did valuable work. She knew that. Her intelligence had led her to projects and challenges that were exciting and fulfilling. But sometimes it felt that she could have just as easily been a robot. No one cared that she had emotions or, heaven forbid, needs.
That wasn’t entirely fair. Janette was a dear friend. And Janette was the one who’d introduced Mia to Howard, the botany professor who dated Mia for six months, courted her circumspectly and eventually shared her bed. Their relationship had been comfortable and undemanding, laden with pleasant conversation as well as shared interests and backgrounds.
Baby for Keeps Page 3