Baby for Keeps

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Baby for Keeps Page 8

by Janice Maynard


  Maybe he had stepped through some kind of time warp into a parallel universe. It was the only explanation for this surreal conversation. He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Are you trying to get back at me for being such a jerk in high school? Is that the reason for this charade?” She couldn’t be serious.

  Mia smiled sweetly. “You seem upset.”

  “I’m not upset, I’m just...” He trailed off, not quite able to articulate his feelings. It certainly wasn’t unusual for a woman to come on to him. But Mia? Even in the midst of his consternation, his libido was at work, urging him to stop rationalizing and take advantage of the situation. “Maybe you’re suffering from stress,” he said desperately, reaching for any feasible explanation for her attitude. “Perhaps you should go lie down.”

  “Is that an invitation, Dylan?”

  Eight

  Mia wanted to laugh out loud at Dylan’s hunted expression. He was the one who had touched her, not vice versa, but clearly he hadn’t expected her reaction. Truthfully she was surprised at herself. When had she decided to reach for what she wanted? Both literally and metaphorically?

  Perhaps trying so hard to get pregnant and finally succeeding had given her the confidence to face her fears. She had never had any trouble with academic challenges, but steering her personal life in a positive direction? That was a bigger hurdle to jump.

  “Oh, forget it, Dylan,” she said, keeping her tone light and teasing. “You’re looking at me like I sprouted two heads. Your virtue is safe. Go away and let me get started on this.”

  The naked relief on his face was comical. “That’s a good idea,” he said heartily. “Having me here will be an interruption. That’s my old bookkeeper’s cell number there on the bulletin board. She said for you to call her anytime if you have questions.”

  The next thing Mia knew, she was alone in Dylan’s office. His defection disappointed her. But she knew he was interested. The signs were all there. That almost kiss when they’d shared ice cream. His soft touch on her hair when he thought she didn’t notice. He kept reaching out to her. She would give him time to get used to the idea.

  Glancing at her watch, she realized that Cora would be ready to eat soon. Still, there was enough time to comb through the Silver Dollar’s accounts-payable and accounts-receivable files. As she delved into her task, she saw that the computer program was straightforward. Her math skills were almost as strong as her language skills, so she soon felt confident that she could help Dylan.

  That he would be helping her as well was a given.

  By the time she shut everything down and went in search of her baby, Dylan was nowhere to be found. Gertie was sitting in the living room bouncing Cora on her knee. The baby was happy, but when she saw her mother, Cora wanted her.

  Gertie handed Cora over with a smile. “Cute kid. Looks like you.”

  “Thank you for looking after her.”

  “Glad to do it.”

  “Is Dylan still around?”

  “Nope. He lit out of here like a crazy man, mumbling something about a meeting in town. But it was the first I heard of it.”

  Mia grimaced inwardly. “I’m sure the fire has created a host of problems for him. Once I get the baby down for her afternoon nap, I plan to spend a couple of hours in the office seeing what things are urgent and which ones can wait. You don’t have to cook for me if Dylan will be out. I’ll be fine with a sandwich.”

  Gertie bristled. “Nonsense. You and the baby are my responsibility. That’s what Dylan wants.”

  * * *

  Dylan drove around town aimlessly. He couldn’t go to work and he couldn’t go home. That was a hell of a thing for a man to admit. Now that Pandora’s box had been opened, all he could think about was what it would be like to have Mia Larin in his bed.

  His fingers gripped the steering wheel as he broke out in a cold sweat. No good deed went unpunished. All he had wanted to do was give her—temporarily— a job and a place to live. To express his appreciation for what she had done for him in high school.

  That was a noble goal. Right? So why was he hiding out? He was a man, damn it. Mia was a little mouse of a woman.

  Except that she wasn’t. Even as he said the words out loud, he knew they weren’t true. Maybe Mia had been bashful and socially backward at fifteen, but definitely not now. She was a grown woman with goals and dreams. She’d wanted a baby, and she’d made it happen.

  Was she serious about wanting Dylan?

  Even as his body tightened at the thought, he acknowledged that it was a bad idea all the way around. Not on a physical level. Hell, he’d been on board with that since the moment he realized the grown-up Mia was a sensual, alluring woman.

  But Mia didn’t belong in Silver Glen, and he didn’t want a woman getting close enough to him again to make him do something stupid. It didn’t help that Mia had a beautiful little baby. The two of them together were a temptation he didn’t need.

  The idea of family and hearth and home had become more appealing to him in recent months. After his broken engagement, he had closed himself off emotionally. Aside from work, he was interested only in fun and games...having a good time. But after Liam and Zoe’s wedding, some of the ice around Dylan’s heart began to thaw.

  Now he had brought two females into his home. Females who brightened up the place and gave it new life. So the temptation returned.

  When his relationship with Tara ended, it had been tough. But there were no children involved. That experience had taught him a bitter truth. Either he picked the wrong women, or he himself wasn’t very good in the relationship department.

  Regardless, he was skittish about getting serious again. Especially with a woman who was already a parent. Dylan liked kids. No question there. But he doubted his ability to be the kind of parent who could nurture and care for a child of his own.

  The only example he’d had growing up was Reggie, his feckless father. Dylan’s dad was a Peter Pan at heart, always chasing the next crazy idea, leaving it to Maeve to do the lion’s share of guiding seven boys. Dylan suspected he had inherited some of his dad’s lack of focus. He’d be damned if he would ruin some kid’s life.

  Dylan had to keep reminding himself that Mia was passing through. Like his ex-fiancée, Mia would not be sticking around when the right job offer came along. Even if she was attracted to him, it was up to Dylan to be strong for both of them. Mia’s defenses were down. She’d been through a grueling few weeks. An honorable man would not take advantage of that weakness. No matter how very badly he wanted to.

  By the time he returned home in the late afternoon, he was certain he had a handle on the Mia situation. What he hadn’t counted on was finding his mother, Maeve, sitting on his sofa conversing with his new houseguest. It wasn’t entirely unheard of for his mom to drop by, but she usually called first. Maybe the gossipy grapevine had alerted her to Mia’s presence. Maeve had been doing her best to play matchmaker for Dylan since the Tara incident.

  Every one of his bachelor survival skills kicked into gear. “Hello, Mom. What brings you here?”

  Maeve Kavanagh was an attractive woman in her early sixties. Her auburn hair with touches of gray, habitually kept in a bun, gave her an air of authority, but there was nothing matronly about her. Along with Liam, Maeve ran the Silver Beeches Lodge.

  Dylan tossed his keys in a disk on the credenza by the front door and took a seat across from the two women. His mother cuddled Cora, a look of absolute joy on her face as she played with the baby.

  Mia shot him a look that could have meant anything. “Your mother was worried about you. Because of the fire.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. But I appreciate your stopping by. Mia is staying with me for a bit. I guess you’ve already introduced yourselves by now. Do you remember her at all?”

  Maeve tore her attention away from t
he infant long enough to frown at her son. “Of course I do. I thanked God for her every minute of your senior year. You were so busy being a rebellious adolescent that I couldn’t get through to you, so I looked on Mia’s assistance as a miracle.”

  Mia frowned. “It hadn’t been that long since Dylan lost his dad. I think his behavior was understandable.”

  Dylan squirmed when his mother raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need Mia defending him. Especially not to the parent who remembered all too well the many ways that he’d once tried to ruin his life. He stood, not caring if he was being rude. “I’ll walk you out to the car, Mom.”

  Maeve grinned at Mia. “I believe that’s ‘Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry.’ But since I do have a million things waiting to be accomplished, I’ll go. It was lovely to see you again, Mia. I hope you’ll join me for dinner at the Lodge one evening soon.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Kavanagh. I’d like that.”

  “As long as you bring the baby and call me Maeve.”

  Dylan escorted his mother out of the house, well aware he was about to get the third degree. What he hadn’t expected was the way his parent looked at him with calculation in her eyes.

  Opening her car door, but not getting in, she rested her arm on the frame. “Tell me the truth, Dylan. Is that baby yours?”

  Startled shock tensed every one of his muscles. “Good God, Mother, no. I haven’t seen the woman since high school.”

  “And yet she’s tucked up nice and cozy in your house.”

  If anyone else, including his brothers, had subjected him to this line of questioning, he’d have told them to mind their own damn business. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option with his mother.

  “Mia lost her job. I needed a bookkeeper. It’s temporary. The plan was for her to live in the apartment over the saloon. Obviously, that’s not an option right now.”

  Maeve’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of your kind heart. You have this wonderful capacity for helping people, but it doesn’t always serve you well in the end.”

  He stared down at the driveway, kicking a pebble with enough force to express his frustration. “You’re talking about my ex-fiancée.”

  “Tara, the tramp, we call her. She used you, Dylan. It fed her ego to have a handsome hulk of a young man—a wealthy one at that—squiring her around town. I know the shape you were in when she left. You care, Dylan. Sometimes too much. Because people are not always what they seem.”

  “Mia’s not like that. And the situations are totally different.”

  “I saw the way she looked at you when you walked into the room a moment ago.”

  He would have liked to argue the point, but given the surprising turn of events in his office earlier, he couldn’t. “You have nothing to worry about. Mia’s time here is very short. A woman with her qualifications and capabilities will have another job in no time.”

  “Bring her to dinner at the hotel. Zoe has been dying to cook for us in their suite.”

  Dylan’s brother and his new wife lived on the top floor of the Silver Beeches Lodge, but they already had plans underway to build an incredible house. “I think being included in a family dinner would make Mia uncomfortable.”

  “Nonsense. I already invited her.”

  “She’s nursing. I doubt she’d want to leave the baby for that long.”

  “Bring the baby with you. Maybe little Cora will give Liam and Zoe ideas. I’d like to be a nana before I have one foot in the grave.”

  “You never give up, do you?” He smiled, acknowledging the love and affection he felt for his mother. She had been widowed very young and yet managed to raise seven rambunctious boys and keep the family fortunes afloat. “I love you, Mom.”

  He kissed her cheek and tucked her into the car.

  She stuck her arm out the window and waved a finger at him. “I’ll check with Liam and Zoe and see what night works for them. No excuses.”

  Without answering, he watched her drive away. Hearing someone who cared so much about him put into words some of what he had been thinking sobered him. Was he susceptible to Mia simply because of auld lang syne and propinquity?

  When he went back inside the house, he stopped to speak to the woman who had occupied his thoughts for most of the day. “Mia.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Your mother is sweet.”

  Dylan thought about that for a minute. Maeve had been called headstrong and caring, but sweet? He squelched the instinct to plop down beside Mia and play with the baby, reminding himself of his recent resolve to keep them at a distance.

  “I have several calls to make this evening, so I’m going to have dinner in my suite. You and Cora are welcome to make yourself at home anywhere in the house. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  * * *

  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

  But he didn’t.

  Mia was first surprised, then angry, then sad when she realized Dylan was making a concerted effort to be invisible. For five straight days, she never saw him nor heard from him. Gertie said he was hard at work tearing out the insides of the bar so that when the contractor was ready, the work could begin at once. None of which explained why a man with Dylan’s fortune hadn’t hired a crew to take over the dirty, smelly work. At night she caught sounds that might be him moving around in his room, but he came and went like a ghost.

  It didn’t take a genius to understand that Dylan was not going to follow up on her blatant invitation. Something inside Mia shriveled and died with the knowledge that for once in her life she had made the first move with a man, and now he was avoiding her as if afraid she might somehow jump him in his sleep. Embarrassed didn’t begin to describe how she felt.

  When she had been in residence almost a week, it became clear that she needed to be proactive about finding a real job. Living in Dylan’s house was an untenable situation. The man was literally skulking around like a phantom because she had told him she wanted him.

  Besides that, she needed to get back to work. As much as she adored Cora—and as lovely as it was to be waited on hand and foot—her brain needed the challenges it was accustomed to handling. The work she did was important. Her skills were a rare gift, one she could not in all good conscience fritter away.

  One morning when Cora napped and after the records for the bar were in good shape, Mia used the laptop to write a new résumé. She’d been in her last job a very long time, so it wasn’t hard to piece together her employment history.

  Dylan had dangled the prospect of spending more time with Cora as an incentive for Mia to take the flexible bookkeeping job. But no matter how much she cherished being with her child all day, it was equally necessary to set a good example for her daughter. Mia’s career was important. It changed lives. The work she was trained to do, the work she enjoyed, was more than a means of income. It was what she was good at...what she contributed to the world at large.

  Once the résumé was polished, she compiled a list of all the influential contacts she knew in her field and emailed them her portfolio. After she clicked the send button, she felt her heart sink. She wished she had time to follow up on her attraction to Dylan. But if he was not interested, then the sooner she left, the better. Besides, getting involved with him would only lead to heartbreak. Dylan belonged in Silver Glen. Sadly, there was nothing here for Mia.

  * * *

  That night, Cora did not sleep well at all. She was restless and cranky, perhaps picking up on her mother’s unsettled feelings. At two in the morning, Mia wandered to the other side of the house to get a glass of milk. Cora whimpered and squirmed in her arms, her little face red and blotchy from crying.

  Mia knew how she felt. For two cents, she would plop down on the floor and bawl herself.

  Instead of reaching for
the light switch—because she definitely wanted Cora to know it was not morning—she tiptoed carefully across the kitchen, hoping to avoid a stubbed toe. But when she did run into something, it was big and warm and solid. Her muffled shriek came seconds before the realization that Dylan held her by the arms.

  Her pulse racing like a train bound for the station, she wriggled free. “You’ve got to stop doing that. My heart can’t take it.” The complaint didn’t hold much heat, since she was whispering.

  He ran a hand over Cora’s downy head. “You think she’s getting a tooth?”

  Mia yawned, not even protesting when Dylan reached for Cora. “It’s a little too soon for that. Maybe I’m being punished for something.”

  “You want some company while she’s awake?” His question was quiet, but it seemed significant somehow.

  “I haven’t seen you for days.”

  “Did you miss me?” Even in the gloom she could see the flash of white teeth.

  “Barely noticed you were gone,” she lied. “And yes...if you have insomnia, I’d love to have an adult to converse with. My repertoire of baby talk is all panned out.”

  Dylan brushed past her. “Follow me.”

  In the living room, he flipped on the gas logs, even though it was the height of summer. The dancing flames cast a rosy glow of illumination that was gentle enough not to stimulate Cora.

  Mia collapsed onto the sofa, so tired she could barely sit up straight. “I can hold her,” she said.

  “Relax, Mia. I’ve got this.”

  As she watched through heavy-lidded eyes, Dylan walked Cora around the room, singing to her in a voice that was pleasant but definitely off-key. His husky serenade seeped into Mia’s bones and muscles, relaxing them until she slid further down into the cushions.

  Only then did it dawn on her that he was naked from the waist up. In the illumination from the fire, she could see the beautiful delineation of his muscles. He looked powerfully masculine, and—in spite of the baby cradled in his arms—untamed, pagan. His drawstring pajama pants, navy with a yellow stripe, were most likely a concession to his houseguests.

 

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