by Kate Hardy
He shrugged. ‘It’s basic data management—and it’s only as good as the data you feed in. That’s why the requirements and spec side is important. What the client thinks they want might not be what they actually want, so you have to grill them.’
‘I can see you’d be good at that,’ she said, then winced. ‘Sorry, that was rude. I’m not trying hard enough.’
He should’ve been annoyed and wanting to snipe back; but he liked the fact that she was being honest. Plus he was beginning to suspect that she had quite a sharp wit, something he appreciated. ‘It’s OK. We’ve never really got on before, so we’re not exactly going to be best friends, are we?’
‘No, but we don’t have to be rude to each other, either.’
‘I guess not.’ He paused. ‘So do you use a computer system?’
‘Sort of. I do my accounts on a spreadsheet because I’m a sole trader and don’t need anything more complicated, but I did have my website designed so I could showcase my work and people could buy what they wanted online from me direct. It shows whether the piece they want is in stock or if they need to order it and how long it’ll take—but, yes, I have to update that manually.’
Dylan made a mental note to look up her website. Maybe there was something he could add to it to make her life easier. Which didn’t mean he was going soft; making things run smoothly for her meant that he wouldn’t have to prop up their roster for more than his fair share of effort.
‘So what’s your big plan?’ she asked. ‘Expansion?’
‘Pretty much keep doing what I do now,’ he said. ‘I have a good team. They’re reliable and they’re prepared to put in the hours to get the projects in on time.’
‘And you like your job?’
‘It’s like breathing, for me,’ he said honestly. Something that Nadine had never really quite understood. His job was who he was.
‘Same here,’ she said, surprising him. It was something else they had in common.
When they’d finished the meal, she said, ‘It’s my turn to do the dishes, and I’m not weaselling out of it—but there’s something I need to share with you. Back in a tick.’
She returned with a book and handed it to him.
He read the title. ‘The Baby Bible. What’s this?’
‘You asked me how come I know so much about babies. It’s because of this. I bought it when Ty was born, so I’d know what to do when Ally asked me to babysit. It tells you everything you need to know—how to do things, what all the milestones are.’ She spread her hands. ‘And if that doesn’t work then I’ll bring in my other secret weapon.’
‘Which is?’
She looked slightly shame-faced. ‘Ring my mum and ask her advice.’
He thought about what would happen if he rang his mother and asked for help with a baby. No, it wasn’t going to happen. He was pretty sure his mother hadn’t been able to cope with having a baby or a child, which was why she’d dumped him on her parents so many times. The only person he could’ve asked about babies was his grandmother, but she’d died a year ago now. After he’d married Nadine, but before the final split. And, although she’d never judged, never actually said anything about it, Dylan knew his grandmother had thought the wedding was a huge mistake.
How right she’d been.
What would she think about this set-up?
What would she have thought about Emmy?
He shook himself. ‘Do you need it back soon?’
‘I’ve read it through cover-to-cover once. But if you could leave it in Tyler’s room or the kitchen when it’s my shift, so I can refer to it if I need to, that’d be really helpful.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Do you mind if I go back to work now and do the washing up later?’
‘Sure—and I’m on nights tonight.’
‘I would say sleep well, but...’ She shrugged. ‘That’s entirely up to Tyler.’
‘Yes.’ And Dylan wasn’t so sure he’d sleep well anyway. He still had to get his head round a lot of things. New responsibilities, having to share his space with someone else when he’d just got used to his bachelor lifestyle, and having a totally new routine for starters. Not to mention that getting to know Emmy was unsettling, because all his preconceptions about her were starting to look wrong. ‘Sleep well,’ he said, and went to settle down with his new reading material.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE BABY WOKE at half past three, and the wails coming through the baby listener seemed incredibly loud.
Dylan surfaced from some weird dream, switched off the baby listener and staggered out into Tyler’s nursery.
According to what Emmy had told him—and what he’d read last night—screaming meant the baby was dirty, hungry, tired or wanted a cuddle. He picked the baby up and sniffed him. Nothing like yesterday’s appalling whiff, so Tyler didn’t need a nappy change. It was the middle of the night, so he could be tired—but then again, he wouldn’t have woken if he was tired. So was he hungry, or did he just want a cuddle?
He probably wanted his mum. Though, Tyler was way too little to understand that Ally couldn’t be there for him anymore. Not like Dylan’s mother, who hadn’t been there because she hadn’t wanted to; Tyler had been very much loved by both his parents. And it was wrong, wrong, wrong that they’d died so young.
The baby nuzzled him.
Hadn’t Emmy said that was a sign of hunger?
‘OK, Ty, food it is,’ he whispered. He took the baby down to the kitchen, managed to switch on the kettle and get the milk out of the fridge, and walked up and down with the baby, stroking his back to sooth him and jiggling him.
Dear God, why had nobody told him that babies were so loud? If Tyler carried on much longer, Emmy was bound to wake. And that wasn’t fair because this was his shift, not hers, and he should be able to deal with this.
It seemed to take forever to heat the milk, and Tyler’s wails grew louder and louder. Eventually Dylan managed it and tested the milk against his wrist. It wasn’t as warm as yesterday, but hopefully it would be warm enough to keep the baby happy.
He sat in the dark while the baby guzzled his milk.
‘Better now?’ he asked softly. Not that he was going to get an answer.
Then he remembered about the burping thing. The last thing he wanted was for the baby to wake again, crying because his tummy hurt. Dylan felt like a zombie as it was. He held Tyler on his shoulder and rubbed the baby’s back, then nearly dropped the baby when he heard a loud burp and felt an immediate gush of liquid over his bare shoulder. What? Why hadn’t Emmy warned him about this? It hadn’t happened last time. Had he done something wrong?
The baby began to cry again. Oh, hell—the burped-up milk had probably soaked his clothes, too, and he’d be cold. He needed a change of clothes; Dylan couldn’t possibly put him back into his cot in this state.
Luckily the overhead light in the nursery was on a dimmer switch. Dylan kept it as low as possible, and hunted for clean clothes. Tyler seemed to have grown four extra arms and six extra legs, all of which were invisible, but eventually Dylan managed to get him out of the Babygro.
The nappy felt heavy; clearly that needed changing, too, before Dylan put clean clothes on the baby. But when he settled Tyler on the changing unit and opened the nappy, the baby promptly peed over him. Dylan jumped back in shock, then dashed forward in horror. This was his first night in charge and he was making a total mess of it. The baby could’ve rolled over and fallen off the changing station and been badly hurt.
His heart was hammering. Please, no. He’d already lost Pete and Ally; he couldn’t bear the idea of anything happening to Tyler. Even though the baby had disrupted his life, even though it panicked him that he didn’t know what he was doing, he was beginning to feel other emotions than just resentment towards Tyler.
He tried to make light of it, even th
ough he was in a cold sweat. ‘Help me out here, Ty,’ he muttered. ‘I’m new at all this.’
But finally the baby had a clean nappy and clean clothes. Dylan put him in the cot and made sure the covers were tucked in properly; within seconds Tyler had fallen back to sleep in his usual position with his arms up over his head, looking like a little frog.
Dylan went back to his room feeling almost hung-over. It was way too late to have a shower; the noise from the water tank would wake Emmy. So he simply sponged off the worst of the milk at the sink in his en-suite, and fell into bed. How did parents of newborns cope with even less sleep than this? he wondered as he sank back into sleep. How had Pete not been a total zombie?
The next morning, his alarm shrilled at the usual time. Normally Dylan woke before his alarm, whereas today he felt groggy from lack of sleep. He staggered out of bed and showered; he didn’t feel much better afterwards, though at least he didn’t smell of burped-up milk anymore.
He went to the nursery to look in on Tyler. The baby was asleep in his cot, looking angelic. ‘It’s all right for some,’ Dylan said wryly. ‘I could do with a nap. So have an extra one for me.’
He dragged himself downstairs. Was it his imagination, or could he smell coffee?
Emmy was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. She raised an eyebrow when she saw him. ‘Rough night?’ she asked.
‘Apart from Ty throwing up half the milk over me and then peeing over me...’
She burst out laughing and he glared at her. ‘It’s not funny.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘You could’ve warned me he’d do that.’
She spread her hands. ‘To be fair, he hasn’t actually done that to me. But Ally told me he once did it to Pete.’
‘Just don’t tell me it’s a male bonding thing,’ he grumbled.
‘And I thought you were supposed to be a morning person.’ She laughed, and poured him a mug of coffee. ‘Here. This might help.’
‘Thanks. I think.’ He took a sip. ‘I was useless last night. I nearly let him fall off the changing station.’
She flapped a dismissive hand. ‘I’m sure you didn’t.’
‘I jumped back from him when he peed on me.’
‘Which is a natural reaction, and you would’ve been there to stop him if he’d started to roll.’
It still made him go cold, how close it had been. ‘Can he roll over?’
‘Yes.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Stop panicking, Dylan. You know what to expect now. You won’t let him fall.’
How could she have so much confidence in him, when he had absolutely none in himself? And what had happened to her, anyway? The Emmy Jacobs he knew would’ve sniped about him not being good enough. This Emmy was surprisingly supportive. Which made him feel even more adrift. He was used to being in charge and knowing exactly what he was doing. Right now, he was winging it, and he hated feeling so useless.
He covered up his feelings by saying, ‘I could do with some toast. Do we have bread?’
‘Not much. But it’s my turn for the supermarket run today, so I’ll get some.’
‘Right.’
‘Any food allergies, or anything you hate eating?’
‘No to the first, offal to the second.’
She smiled. ‘That makes two of us. I’ll pick up dinner while I’m out.’
He thought about it. Really, this was much like sharing a student house. Except it wasn’t with his friends, it was with a near stranger. And he had the added responsibility of a baby. ‘We need to sort out a kitty.’
‘Sure. We can do that later.’
‘And we need a rota for doing the shopping. Or maybe we could get the shopping delivered.’ He frowned. ‘Do you have a car?’
‘Yes. And I know how to fit Ty’s baby seat in it.’ She paused. ‘What about you?’
‘Yes to having a car. I don’t have a clue about a baby seat.’
‘We only have one baby seat between us. I think we’re going to need one for your car as well as mine.’
He frowned. ‘So I need to take another afternoon off?’
She shrugged. ‘Or we could go at the weekend.’
Her weekend on, his weekend off—and he was going to have to spend it doing baby stuff instead of catching up with work. Great. Yet more disruption. And then the guilt surged through him again. It wasn’t Tyler’s fault that he needed to be looked after—or that Dylan had agreed to do it. ‘OK. We’ll go at the weekend,’ he said.
* * *
Saturday morning saw them in the nursery department of a department store in the city.
‘Your baby’s gorgeous,’ the assistant said, cooing over Tyler.
Dylan was about to correct her when Emmy said, ‘Yes, we think so.’ She shot him a look, daring him to contradict her.
He thought about it. Strictly speaking, Tyler was their baby. Just not a baby they’d actually made together.
Then he wished he hadn’t thought about making babies with Emmy. How soft her skin would be against his. How she smelled of some spicy, floral scent he couldn’t quite place. How it made him want to touch her, taste her...
Oh, hell. He really couldn’t have the hots for Emmy. He hadn’t even looked at another woman since he’d split up with Nadine. Abstinence: that had to be what was wrong with him. That, or the fact that he’d done the night shift, the previous night, and Tyler had woken three times, so lack of sleep had fried his brain.
He shut up and let Emmy do the talking.
And then Emmy spied a cot toy, something that apparently beamed pictures of stars and a moon on the ceiling and played a soft tinkling lullaby.
‘Can we get this as well? I think he’d love it.’
‘You mean, you love it.’ Emmy seemed to like simple, childlike things. And Dylan hadn’t quite worked out yet whether he found that more endearing or annoying. He certainly didn’t loathe her as much as he once had. She was good with the baby, too.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘OK, then, let’s ask him.’ She picked up the cot toy, crouched down beside the pram, switched it on and let Tyler see the lights and hear the lullaby.
Tyler’s eyes went wide, then he laughed and held his hands out towards it.
Emmy looked up at him and smiled. ‘I think that’s a yes.’
Again a surge of attraction hit him. Was he crazy? This was Emmy Jacobs, who sparred with him and sniped at him and was his co-guardian. She was the last person he wanted to get involved with. But at the same time he had to acknowledge that there was something about her that really got under his skin. Something that made him want to know more about her. Get closer.
And that in itself was weird. He didn’t do close. Never had. He didn’t trust anyone to let them near enough—even, if he was honest with himself, Nadine.
The rest of the weekend turned out to be Dylan’s first weekend of being a dad. Although it was officially Emmy’s weekend on duty, he somehow ended up going to the park with her to take Tyler out for some fresh air. He noticed that she talked to Tyler all the time, even though there was no way a baby could possibly understand everything she said. She pointed out flowers and named the colours for him; she pointed out dogs and birds and squirrels.
She was clearly taking her duties as godmother and guardian really seriously, and Dylan was beginning to wonder just why he’d ever disliked her so much. Then again, this new Emmy didn’t have a smart-aleck mouth. She didn’t snipe, and she wasn’t cynical and hard-bitten like the Emmy Jacobs he was used to.
Which one was the real Emmy? he wondered. Was she letting her guard down and letting him see the real her? Or was this just some kind of mirage and Spiky Emmy would return to drive him crazy?
They stopped at the café in the park, and Emmy asked for a jug of hot water to heat Tyler’
s milk. While she found them a table, he bought the coffees. He’d seen her looking longingly at the cinnamon pastries, so he bought her one of those as well.
‘That’s really kind of you,’ she said when he brought the tray over to their table.
But her eyes were full of anguish. What was going on here? ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
She sighed. ‘I struggle with my weight. And no, that isn’t your cue to tell me that I’m fine as I am. My job’s pretty sedentary, so I only manage to keep my weight under control because I go to an exercise class three times a week. But things have changed, now, and I’m not going to have time for classes anymore. I haven’t been since the week before Ally and Pete went to Venice.’
‘You miss your classes?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ll manage.’
‘That’s not what I asked. You miss them?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘It’s ridiculously soon. But yes, I miss them. I spend too much time sitting at my desk—I really lose track of time when I’m working—and the classes used to help me get the knots out and stretch my muscles.’
‘When are they?’
‘Mornings. Straight after the school run.’ She shrugged. ‘So when Ty’s at school, in four years’ time or so, I can go back to them.’
‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘we can change our rota. I’ll go in to the office a bit later, on the mornings when you have a class—though obviously that means I’ll be back later on those days to make up the time.’
‘You’d do that for me?’ She looked startled, almost shocked; and then she gave him a heart-stopping smile. It was his turn to be shocked then, by how much her smile affected him. How it made him feel as if the room had just lit up. ‘Thank you, Dylan. What about you—do you do anything you’ve had to give up and miss already?’
‘The gym,’ he admitted. ‘It’s my thinking time. And I kind of like the endorphin hit at the end.’
‘Let me know when your sessions are, and we’ll switch the rota round.’ She looked at the pastry, then at him, and gave him another smile. ‘Thank you, Dylan. That’s so nice.’