“Not for a minute. Dad and I loved horses and had a bond that Mom and I could never share. Besides, I was old enough when she left to know what it was like to have a mom. Actually, a horse is the reason I came to town.”
Glad to let the course of the conversation flow in another direction, Shaye waited for Kylie to explain.
Timmy was dozing on Gwen’s shoulder as Kylie stood and crossed to him. “Can I hold him for a little while?”
Her friend handed him over with a wry grin. “Sure.”
Taking a seat beside Gwen on the sofa, Kylie studied Timmy’s chubby face as she talked. “I’m thinking about adopting a wild mustang. I picked up some papers at the land management office.”
“As if you don’t have enough chores to do,” Shaye said with a laugh. Although Saddle Ridge had a foreman who helped Kylie keep everything going, Dix Pepperdale was getting up in years.
“I know I don’t need more chores.” Her blue eyes were serious as they met Shaye’s. “Or the expense. But I’ve sold a few of my quilts. I need something to care about and gentling a mustang…well, it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Then go for it,” Gwen advised her.
The doorbell rang and Gwen and Kylie looked at Shaye.
“You don’t have to run off right away,” she told them as she went to the door and opened it.
In June, daylight lasted until nine. The evening sun backlit Dylan. In his polo shirt, casual navy slacks and loafers, she wondered if he’d dressed to portray the image of a common, everyday dad. Dylan Malloy would never become an everyday dad.
He was holding two large bags and said with a smile, “It’s still hot.”
“Come on in. I have company. Gwen Langworthy and Kylie Warner are here.”
At that, he looked taken aback, but then shrugged as if a change in plans meant nothing to him. “There’s enough food here for everyone.”
There was an awkward moment when she and Dylan stepped into the living room and Gwen and Kylie studied him.
Gwen broke the silence. “Hello, again.”
Dylan nodded to her and Shaye introduced Kylie, watching for Dylan’s reaction to her. He didn’t seem to have one.
“It’s good to meet you. Are you the Kylie Warner from Saddle Ridge Ranch?”
Kylie nodded.
“Your name was mentioned in the Wild Horse Junction Wrangler this morning.”
“Are you sure it was me?”
“You’re married to Alex Warner?”
“Yes,” Kylie answered a bit warily.
“There was an article about your husband winning the bullriding competition at a rodeo in Colorado Springs yesterday.”
Because she obviously hadn’t known, Kylie’s cheeks reddened. “I didn’t see the paper today,” she admitted. “I guess Alex was waiting to tell me when he got home.” Looking embarrassed, she brought Timmy to Shaye and handed him over. “I’d better be going. I promised Dix I’d help him groom the horses tonight.”
Gwen also rose to her feet. “Yep, I’d better be on my way, too.”
With Dylan standing at her elbow, Shaye felt almost panicked. He wasn’t touching her, but just having him this close gave her goose bumps. “You could join us for supper,” she invited quickly.
“Thanks, but I have errands to run yet tonight and laundry to do,” Gwen responded offhandedly. She looked from Dylan to Shaye and her gaze seemed to be sending a message to Shaye. Stand your ground with him.
“You don’t have to see us out,” Kylie assured Shaye, giving her and Timmy a hug, and then Shaye a kiss on the cheek. Gwen did the same.
Seconds later, her two best friends gone, Shaye was left standing in her living room with Dylan, unsure of what to do or to say or to feel.
Dozing for the past few minutes, Timmy began wiggling and let out a cry.
Dylan frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She shifted the baby’s position and put him on her shoulder, patting his back.
“Could be gas, could be he’s restless, could be he just feels like crying.”
“How do you know the difference?”
“I don’t. But once he gets started, he keeps it up for a while. Come on, if we want to eat, we’d better do it quickly.”
By the time they entered the kitchen, Timmy’s small cries had turned into much louder ones.
She motioned toward her cupboards. “Dishes are in there, silverware is in the drawer. I have a changing table in the den. I’m going to see if a wet diaper is the problem.”
A few minutes later Shaye was back in the kitchen, but Timmy was still crying.
Dylan had set two places. Above Timmy’s bawling, he said, “Moo Goo Guy Pan, chicken and snow peas, and beef with broccoli. Take your pick.”
“I’d better walk him for a while. You go ahead and eat.”
Instead of pulling out a chair as Shaye expected, Dylan crossed to her and stood very close. “Why don’t I try to hold him for a while?”
She’d never expected him to offer that. She’d never expected him to jump right in. “Have you ever held a baby before?”
“No, but I did hold a lion cub once. Does that count?”
Unable to tell if he was irritated or amused, she was fascinated by the lighter green sparks in his very dark green eyes. Her heart pounded way too fast and it was suddenly very hot in her kitchen. She remembered Gwen’s unspoken message. Stand your ground with him.
“I don’t know if that counts. I do know you have to support Timmy’s head.”
“I can do that.”
When Shaye still hesitated, he warned her, “You’re going to have to give me a little leeway. You’re also going to have to give me a chance.”
Or he’d sue for designated visiting rights and she’d have very little control of his time with Timmy? The implied threat was there and she didn’t miss it.
When Dylan reached for the baby, Shaye knew she had to let go.
Taking Timmy from her shoulder, she held him in the crook of her arm and let Dylan slide his hand close to her body behind the baby. She felt that slide of his hand in every fiber of her being. His aftershave surrounded her as he leaned nearer and she remembered running her hands down his bare back, feeling the heat of his skin and the tautness of his muscles.
As Dylan lifted Timmy away from her, he asked, “What position works best?”
“When he’s crying, I try everything. Sometimes walking helps.”
Although he was handling Timmy a bit gingerly, Dylan placed the baby at his shoulder, holding him close to his neck. “It’s going to be all right, fella.” He began to walk around the kitchen, jiggling Timmy a little and patting his diapered bottom. The infant’s crying subsided into quieter fussing.
Shaye was reaching for the towel she’d thrown over her shoulder to give it to Dylan when the baby suddenly hiccupped and spit up all over Dylan’s shirt.
She waited for an eruption or a string of epithets, a grimace, a quick transfer of Timmy back to her. But Dylan just took the towel from her, tossed it over his shoulder and gave his attention to the baby.
“Didn’t go down right that time, huh?” Dylan’s gaze was worried when it met Shaye’s. “Is he sick?”
“No, that happens with babies. Gas, not burping enough. If you want to clean up, I can see if he’ll sit in his carrier for a little bit.”
Dylan smiled at her. “Next time I’ll know I have to bring an extra shirt. If you have a washing machine, I’ll just toss this in while we eat.”
The idea of Dylan Malloy, shirtless and bare-chested in her kitchen again, made a swarm of butterflies flutter in Shaye’s stomach.
This was going to be one very long evening.
Chapter Five
Shirtless, Dylan stood in Shaye’s kitchen, Timmy on his shoulder. Shaye’s fingers fumbled with the takeout containers. At least on the pretense of looking at Timmy, she could sneak a peek at Dylan.
“Your friends stop in often?” he asked, pulling out a chair with his foot a
nd lowering himself into it. He might never have held a baby before, but he was doing a darn good job.
“When they have time.” She latched on to anything to talk about that wasn’t explicitly personal. “Gwen’s job keeps her busy. Besides office hours, she does home health care for women who can’t get to the center, too.”
“And Kylie? It’s hard to believe she didn’t know her husband won a rodeo event.”
Although Kylie didn’t talk about her marriage, Shaye and Gwen both knew there were problems—lots of problems—but she wasn’t about to discuss one of her best friends with Dylan.
When she was silent, he frowned, patting Timmy’s back. “I’m just trying to make conversation, Shaye, not poke into anyone’s private life.”
Apparently he felt as awkward as she did. Waving at the food on the table, she asked, “Would you like a soda with this? Iced tea? Wine?” The last had been an automatic suggestion and now she wished she hadn’t offered it. She certainly wasn’t going to have any. She needed all of her wits about her to deal with Dylan.
“Iced tea would be fine. Julia used to brew her own peach tea.”
“I use her recipe.” Shaye’s gaze met his and the bond between them was there again.
“Spreading her ashes seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I kind of wish they were one place where I could go and talk to her.”
“You can still talk to her,” Shaye suggested softly, understanding Dylan’s need.
“I know. Walter told me the house sold in a few weeks.”
Sitting in a chair across from Dylan, Shaye kept her gaze away from all that tanned male flesh as she spooned broccoli and beef onto her dish. “A young couple bought it. It’s their first house. The proceeds from the sale went into a trust Walter helped me set up for Timmy.”
“I stopped at the storage unit yesterday. I just needed to touch something Julia had cherished. I remember the day I gave her the jade elephant. Her face lit up. Everything there carries memories I want to keep alive…for Timmy as well as myself.”
The furniture Julia had left her brother hadn’t been just ordinary, everyday, sell-it-to-someone-else kind of furniture. There had been a curio cabinet that held all of Dylan’s gifts to her from faraway places, mahogany-and-glass bookcases that housed all of her books—many worn volumes she’d read several times—and a fancy desk Dylan had bought Julia for her first apartment. In addition, his sister had bequeathed him a Tiffany light and a table that she and Will had found together in an antique mart.
“I need a house,” Dylan remarked offhandedly.
“Are you thinking about buying one?” If he was, his stay here could be permanent. Her stomach sank and her heart hurt.
“I have been thinking about it. Even if I don’t stay, I need a home base, someplace more permanent than an apartment over a farmhouse.”
His gaze went to his nephew on his shoulder, and Shaye saw such a look of tenderness in Dylan’s eyes that she wanted to cry. One way or another, he was going to be in his nephew’s life.
“You’d better eat,” she suggested. “Your food’s going to get cold. Timmy looks as if he might be falling asleep. Why don’t I lay him in his crib?”
“I can lay him down.”
When Dylan stood, she absolutely couldn’t ignore his broad, tanned shoulders, his flat stomach, his muscled arms. Any hunger for food she’d had left her, the intensity of a more primal hunger taking its place. The intensity as well as the hunger rattled her.
As Dylan carried Timmy to the portable crib in the living room, she followed protectively, meaning to make sure he handled the baby properly. However, she could easily see Dylan had caught on quickly.
He asked, “On his back or on his stomach?”
“On his back.”
Dylan was gentle with the baby, who didn’t awaken as he nestled in his crib, his little fist at his mouth.
“It’s hard to believe he almost didn’t make it,” Dylan said. “It’s hard to believe he’s healthy.”
“All of his checkups show that he is. Like most preemies, his development might be a little slower in some areas, but then again, he’s shown he’s a fighter. There might not be any slowdown at all.”
They were standing at the portable crib together, so close that Shaye could feel Dylan’s body heat. The hair on his arms was lighter than the hair on his head. His chest hair was darker. She could imagine herself sifting her fingers through that curly hair.
Stop it! she told herself forcefully, but memories of how they’d been together had left an indelible imprint.
When the phone rang, she was grateful. Sinking down onto the sofa, she picked up the cordless from the end table.
Recognizing the caller’s voice, she focused on the phone call, trying to forget about Dylan and the effect he had on her.
A few minutes later she had forgotten about him because the conversation troubled her. To her surprise, when she ended the call, he was sitting on the sofa about a foot away.
“Work?” he asked. “I thought you were on leave.”
“I am, for another few weeks yet. But I’ve been catching up with my cases. That was Sharon McDonald,” she found herself explaining. “She and I work closely together sometimes.”
“There’s a problem?”
“There are always problems, but this turned into a crisis situation. We’d been keeping a watchful eye on a mother and her five-year-old. We were called in one day when the little girl was found wandering at the other end of town. The mother had fallen asleep and her daughter had gotten out of the apartment by herself.”
“Fallen asleep, or something else?” Dylan asked.
“Something else, we think. Probably alcohol. We try to keep families together and there wasn’t enough cause to remove the child.”
“She was wandering alone at the other end of town!” Dylan looked angry.
“I know. But children are fast. Even when you think they’re secure, they’re not. So we decided to do home visits for a while.”
“And today?”
“A neighbor called in. She heard Jessie crying for a long time. She got the apartment manager to open the door when she couldn’t get a rise out of anybody inside. It turns out the mother had left Jessie there by herself all day. No one knows where the mother is.”
“What will happen now?”
“Sharon called to tell me they’d placed Jessie with a foster family for now.”
Dylan shook his head, and Shaye knew that he was thinking about his experience and his sister’s in foster care. “It’s a good family, Dylan. I interviewed them myself when they applied to be foster parents. Jessie will be well taken care of.”
His eyes were filled with doubts. “Are you so sure about that? Are you so sure the couple doesn’t have hidden motives?”
“No hidden motives. They want to have kids and are on an adoption list. But that takes time. Until they can adopt, they’re willing to open their house to other children who have no place to go.” She couldn’t help moving closer to Dylan. “You and Julia never should have been separated.”
“You’re right about that. I could have looked after her and protected her if I had been with her.”
This was definitely one of Dylan’s strongest attributes—he was a protector.
When Shaye looked up into his green eyes, she was mesmerized by them. She was mesmerized by him. The air between them sparked with the memory of the two of them together. She’d never been so intrigued by a man, or attracted to one, not in this I-want-to-jump-your-bones kind of way.
When Dylan leaned closer, she knew it was a test. He was trying to see if she would back away. Oh, how she knew she should back away. But curiosity, anticipation and sheer excitement were too great lures. His arm went around her and again she realized he was giving her a chance and plenty of time to avoid the kiss. She didn’t want to avoid it. She’d longed for it ever since the day they’d made love.
Dylan’s lips were as sensually captivating as she remembered. The pr
essure and warmth of them made her tingle all over. With unhurried mastery, he let the desire build until she opened her mouth, needing more. He gave her so much more. His tongue was hot and rough and adventurous, exploring thoroughly, creating a sensation inside of her that urged her to slip her fingers into his hair. What really made her head spin was his hand on her face, caressing her. His tenderness was so absolutely overwhelming that tears came to her eyes. She’d never been kissed like this before.
Moaning, the sound of her pleasure made her realize exactly what was going to happen if they didn’t stop. They could be having sex again right here on her couch and that wasn’t what she wanted. Well, maybe she wanted it right now, but she didn’t want the complication of it or the repercussions of it in the days to come.
Pushing away from him, she took a deep breath, trying to put what had just happened into perspective. She’d practically asked for that kiss and she couldn’t fault him for acting on desire she’d felt, too.
After he ran his hand down his face, he just sat there for a few minutes looking straight ahead. “What are you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem.”
A wry smile twisted his lips. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I think I’d better go.”
“You should wait until your shirt dries.”
“Fortunately I can drive without a shirt.”
She knew tonight wouldn’t deter him from his reason for being here and she was right, because he asked, “Do you spend most of your time here? With Timmy, I mean.”
“Except for going grocery shopping and running a few errands, I do.”
“How would you and Timmy like to meet me at Flutes and Drums tomorrow around eleven?”
Flutes and Drums was the name of the art gallery in town. In summer, tourists made it flourish. “Any special reason you want to meet there?”
“I have a meeting at the gallery tomorrow morning around ten. I should be finishing up about eleven. We can go for lunch afterward.”
The gallery would be a neutral place. It would definitely be better if he spent time around Timmy that way.
“That sounds good.”
At least at Flutes and Drums, she wouldn’t feel as overwhelmed by Dylan Malloy. She could concentrate on the beautiful artwork instead.
Custody For Two (Baby Bonds #1) Page 7