Custody For Two (Baby Bonds #1)

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Then we need a record of this. You’ll want to tell Timmy about the first time you brought him here.”

  When she rolled her eyes, Dylan took her elbow, stopping her. “A child’s history is more important to him than you can ever imagine. In the shuffle of what happened to my parents and the foster homes, Julia and I lost all of our family photographs. I want Timmy to see the world through his eyes and ours. I want him to be able to see the world close up, far away and from every perspective.”

  As always, she was fascinated by Dylan and wished she wasn’t. His hand on her arm heated up her entire being and she had to admit he had a point.

  Taking the camera from his hand and moving a few steps away so she could think more clearly, she replied, “Then it’s only fair I snap a few pictures of you, too.”

  His grin was crooked. “Uh, oh. What have I started?”

  She brought the camera to her eye. “Turn a bit sideways so I can include Timmy, too.”

  After that, their hike took a little longer than expected because they stopped frequently to take pictures of the canyons rising to the cerulean sky, a deer nibbling at brush, Timmy dozing in the carrier. Shaye felt as if Dylan were showing her a world she’d never seen, not just scenery but a different way of looking at everything that was around her.

  Why had she been so afraid to come today? Not because an unpredictable moose might charge them, not because the temperature would be too cold or too hot for Timmy. Rather, she’d been afraid her feelings for Dylan would grow even deeper, complicating her life and Timmy’s, complicating the issue of custody that had to be settled. Most of all, she’d been afraid today would shatter the remains of the wall she’d built around her heart so she wouldn’t get hurt again. Dylan had been battering that wall ever since she’d met him.

  They heard Mustang Creek before they saw it and Timmy seemed to hear it, too, because he looked around. She tried to introduce him to new shapes and colors every day—his vision was maturing and he seemed delighted by everything they passed on the trail.

  “Lots of special things to see, aren’t there?” she asked him, and he cooed back as if he understood her.

  “I bought a baby book,” Dylan remarked.

  “What did you want to know?”

  “What happens when. You know—what he’s supposed to be doing at four months, five months, a year, two.”

  “Every baby advances at his own speed.”

  “I know, but I didn’t only want to know what he should be doing, I wanted to know what I should be doing—like rattling keys at him, calling him by name, watching whether he notices the sound of my voice.”

  “You not only bought the book, you read it. I’m impressed.”

  When Dylan glanced at her, he could see she was teasing him. “Good. I like impressing pretty girls.”

  She couldn’t keep a blush from coming to her cheeks. “I’m not pretty. I’m ordinary.”

  He stopped short. “Who ever told you that?”

  “Nobody ever told me, exactly. It’s a feeling I got. You know, being around my brothers’ friends.”

  “If they didn’t hit on you, they were afraid to because of your brothers. There are bonds of brotherhood you don’t step over.”

  She’d never thought about it that way. “I never dated much. I didn’t even go to my prom.”

  “I’m telling you, Shaye, you had two brothers to watch over you. That’s intimidating to anybody who’d want to take you out.”

  After the christening, she’d seen her brothers talking with Dylan. “Do they intimidate you?”

  “No.”

  As her gaze met Dylan’s, they laughed, and Dylan had to admit, “John’s not as subtle as Randall.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing that would help family relations. Tell me something. Did your dad ever tell you you were pretty?”

  Her mind swerved from her brothers to her father and all the joking was over. “No, he didn’t.”

  “There you go,” Dylan said. “That’s why you think you’re not pretty.”

  “I think that’s a little too simplistic.”

  “I don’t. I think you became an independent, caring woman because of your brothers and in spite of your dad.”

  “Have you given this a lot of thought?” How much did he think about her? He was in and out of her mind twenty-four hours a day and had been ever since February.

  “Some,” he admitted, looking at her and not turning away.

  Breaking eye contact, she stared ahead. There was something about looking into Dylan’s eyes that simply made the world higher, brighter, wider and bigger. The feeling terrified her.

  They’d soon covered the mile, and Timmy still seemed content. Maybe he did need fresh air and new sights. Maybe he needed more than she could give him.

  When Dylan seemed to be headed for one particular spot, she soon saw why. Cottonwoods and river birches grew along the creek bed. Mustang Creek began in the canyons of the Painted Peaks and wound down, at some spots wide, here much narrower. The day had turned practically balmy and only a light breeze stirred her hair. She’d tied it back so it wouldn’t get in the way. Dressed in her jeans and cotton shirt, a practical sweater tied around her waist, she wondered how Dylan looked at her. As a desirable woman? Or as a woman who wanted to be Timmy’s mom?

  They stopped and Dylan suggested, “I thought we could set up lunch here.”

  She couldn’t have picked a better spot. She couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful day. As they spread out a thin blanket Dylan pulled from his backpack, she asked, “Are you always this prepared?”

  “I have to be prepared when I go on a shoot, otherwise the whole trip could be wasted. In this case, I just want you to relax and see that Timmy doesn’t have to be kept inside and protected too much.”

  “In other words, you had an ulterior motive.”

  “I had an objective. How am I doing?”

  She took Timmy’s bottle in its own insulated cooler from the backpack as well as the sandwiches and the bottles of water. “You’re doing great. This is a lovely break. But I still have to wonder how comfortable we’ll be if we walk back and he’s fussing all the way.”

  “Let’s take him out of that carrier and give him playtime on the blanket before we eat. He’ll sleep on the trek out.”

  Almost immediately, she figured out what Dylan was up to because she often did the same thing at home. With Timmy on his stomach, Dylan pulled a rattle from the backpack and shook it. Timmy raised his head. Pushing up on his arms, he arched his back a bit and kicked his legs.

  “Soon, he’ll be doing push-ups,” Dylan said with a smile.

  “I’m waiting for him to roll over on his own,” Shaye added.

  As Dylan shook the rattle again, Timmy gurgled at him.

  Dylan asked nonchalantly, “What are you going to do about working?”

  In spite of her intentions to keep the conversation casual, Shaye knew her back straightened as her defenses came up. “I have money saved. I can work part-time for a few months, but then I’ll have to go back full-time.”

  “With child support, you could permanently work part-time.”

  “With child support, I’d feel as if I owe you.”

  She could feel Dylan’s gaze on her. “What’s more important, your pride or being with Timmy more hours in the day?”

  At this precise moment, her pride and being with Timmy was a toss-up. She knew it shouldn’t be, but she didn’t want to depend on Dylan. She’d depended on Chad. She’d started making him her world and he’d left for India without her. After her mother died, she’d wanted to depend on her father and had looked to him for comfort and a safe haven. But she’d found neither. And her brothers? In a way, they’d always depended on her. At first, for someone to replace their mom and then later she’d felt the burden of simply keeping her family together, not letting them all go off in different directions and forget about each other.

  “What?” Dylan asked
gently, turning Timmy onto his back, then coming to sit by her side.

  “Nothing,” she murmured.

  “Don’t lie to me, Shaye. Your thoughts are clicking through your brain so fast, your eyes are changing color.”

  “My eyes are brown.”

  “Your eyes sometimes have golden sparks. They’re amber, not simply brown.”

  “Dylan…” His name was a protest, but a weak one.

  His arm went around her shoulders. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”

  Looking at him like this, studying the lines around his eyes, his hair tousled from the wind, the scent of him seeping into her with each breath, she couldn’t tell him that. She was beginning to believe Dylan and run-of-the-mill kisses didn’t go together. If he’d just crush his lips against hers, quickly push his tongue into her mouth and then back away, she’d be fine. But he never did that.

  So close to her now she could feel his breath, Dylan stroked her cheek. The spot tingled and in spite of herself she wondered what came next. His lips were hot and when they lingered at the corner of her mouth, she stayed perfectly still. Slowly his tongue came out and whispered across her upper lip, then lingered on her lower one. Eventually he slid it between the two as if he were giving her the power to bar his entrance or welcome him. She knew he had all the power, and that almost made her pull away. But just then, the tip of his tongue slid across the seam of her lips and she moaned at the exquisite sensation of it. Opening to him, she finally knew she was falling in love with Dylan, and it was a tumble she didn’t want to take. Yet as his tongue stroked against hers, she couldn’t resist the power of the chemistry between them and her arms went around his neck.

  As Dylan’s tongue stroked hers, the sounds of the creek seemed to become louder. The rustle of leaves swept away every other thought in her head. Timmy’s happy gurgles let her fall into Dylan with a suddenness that surprised even her. Captivated by every sensual texture of his lips and tongue and arms, she wanted to be here with him and nowhere else.

  Dylan didn’t stop with simply pushing his tongue against hers. He stroked and dipped into nooks and crannies, making her ache, urging her to long for so much more than a kiss. When his hand slipped from her shoulder, swept over her collar and rested on her neckline, she knew he wanted to become more intimate.

  All she had to do was pull away. All she had to do was say no. All she had to do was relegate Dylan to a part of her life that was separate from her feelings and wishes and longings and dreams.

  She was powerless to do that.

  Dylan trailed his hand down her blouse slowly as if he enjoyed simply the act of it rather than hurrying toward what came next. Would he do the same if he made love to her again? Instead of fast and frenzied, would they be able to go slow?

  Her anticipation grew. Kissing Dylan became an art that she participated in as fully as he did. When his fingers slid to her breast, when his palm rested on it, she felt overwhelmed with the sensual intake of all of it.

  Suddenly, Timmy’s rattle rattled. There was a small cry and Shaye shut down the intimacy she and Dylan were sharing.

  Only Timmy should matter to her, now.

  Wasn’t Dylan using the oldest form of persuasion to pull her into his world? To make her see what he wanted her to see? If her perspective was so clouded by him, she’d do anything he wanted.

  Pulling away, she went to Timmy without checking the expression on Dylan’s face.

  After she picked up the baby, she held him close, crooned to him and cut Dylan out of her world. The problem was, he knew it, and he wouldn’t let her do it. She felt his body next to her…she felt his arm go around her. With Timmy in her arms, it was hard to shrug away.

  “He’s fine,” Dylan murmured.

  “I’m not,” she whispered back.

  “You can’t keep denying how much we want each other.”

  “I can’t deny that you’re trying to persuade me to give you joint custody.”

  “What just happened here has nothing to do with joint custody.” He sounded angry and when she brought her gaze to his, she knew he was.

  “You think I’m misjudging your intentions?” she asked. “Maybe you don’t even know you have them.”

  “I’m not your father, Shaye. He used you to take care of your brothers when he didn’t know what else to do. I’m not the guy who dropped you at the whiff of a good professional opportunity. Look past them and look at me.”

  “And see what, Dylan? You’re going to settle down in Wild Horse Junction and give up your career to become domestic? I don’t think so. So our relationship is convenient for you. You want fatherhood that’s convenient for you. Heck, I don’t even know if you want a relationship. Maybe all you want is another go at sex because you know I’m safe.”

  “Safe? You’re anything but safe,” he muttered.

  “What do you mean? I haven’t slept around.”

  “No, you haven’t, and that’s why you aren’t safe. I know what you want, Shaye. You want what Julia wanted—a man who works nine to five, is home every night and weekends, who doesn’t have a hobby beyond watching football on Sundays.”

  “I never said—”

  “No, you didn’t, but neither you nor Julia had the home you wanted when you were kids. You want to create it now and it’s probably what you want to give Timmy.”

  “Of course it’s what I want for Timmy! I want him to have security and stability, to feel protected and to know he belongs. That’s what every child deserves.”

  Dylan shook his head sadly. “There are different ways to give a child all of that, other than the traditional, other than two parents, a picket fence and a swing in the backyard that’s the most excitement a child can get.”

  “Maybe you don’t want to recreate your childhood,” she said. “Maybe you’re still trying to escape from it. Maybe being an adventurer is nothing more than being a kid who never grew up.”

  The expression on Dylan’s face told her she’d crossed a boundary. He wore a cold expression now that she’d never seen, and in the space of a second, she’d put so much distance between them that they were lifetimes apart.

  Rising to his feet, he stood for a moment and looked out over the creek, up into the mountains.

  Then he stooped to take Timmy from her. “I’m going to show him the water, let him feel some tree bark, talk to him about the sky and where it could take him. There are kids who dream about becoming astronauts. Of course, there are parents who squelch those dreams because becoming an astronaut might not be safe.”

  When Dylan strode away from her, her dreams and her world were in his hands.

  Holding Timmy on her lap, playfully patting his hands together, Shaye sat in Gwen’s bedroom that evening watching her pack a suitcase. “So, where are you going this time?”

  “Jackson Hole. I’m speaking to physical education teachers.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “Five days. I’m taking my vacation—two days for work, three days for me. I’m going to drive and sightsee.”

  “That could be a long trip alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. I have my cell phone, though it probably won’t work in a lot of the area. But my car’s fairly new, the weather’s good and I’ll have everything I need stowed in the back.” After stuffing a sweatshirt into her suitcase, she glanced at Shaye. “You’re postponing the inevitable.”

  “Not inevitable.” She shifted Timmy to her other knee, where she played with his toes and made him giggle.

  “You didn’t come over here to talk about my trip or my lack of company on it. What’s up?”

  “Am I so absolutely transparent? Dylan says I don’t know how to lie.”

  Laughing, Gwen smoothed a pair of jeans into her luggage. “That’s probably a good thing. Why would you want to?”

  Shaye sighed. “I never thought about it before, but Dylan stirs up too many of my emotions. The problem is, especially around him, I can’t even deny them. It’s as if he can see
whatever I’m feeling…or thinking.”

  “Is he still adamant about joint custody?”

  “Yes. What concerns me now is the method he’s using to get it.”

  “What method? Has he hired a cutthroat lawyer other than Walter?”

  Fiddling with Timmy’s playsuit, she replied, “No, I’m not talking about legal maneuvering.”

  Gwen closed the lid to her travel case and sat next to it on the bed. “Unload, Shaye. What’s going on?”

  After a brief hesitation she asked, “Have you ever been so attracted to a man you could forget your name?”

  Gwen thought about it, then replied, “I had a pretty deep crush on Cal Winters when I was in eighth grade.”

  “Gwen, be serious! When you were engaged to Mark, did you think about anything but kissing him?”

  “Uh, oh. You’ve got it bad.”

  “I don’t need editorial comment. Answer my question.”

  “Kissing is just part of what we did, as well as…other things. Both of us were very reasonable about it. I mean, we both had busy lives. When we went on dates, kissing at the end of them was kind of expected.” She suddenly stopped. “Maybe one of the reasons he didn’t show up at the wedding was because we didn’t have enough passion. But I always thought passion was overrated. Isn’t compatibility more important?”

  It had taken Gwen two years to heal and get her self-confidence back where men were concerned. She still wasn’t dating now, so Shaye knew she wasn’t entirely over what had happened.

  “Were you compatible with Mark?”

  “I thought so. With him being a physician’s assistant, we had lots to talk about and understood what our jobs required of us. Our schedules were even similar.”

  “So why didn’t it work? What did Mark tell you when you confronted him?”

  “He said he got the feeling we both weren’t fully invested in the idea of marriage. I didn’t know what that meant, then. I figured he got cold feet and was commitment-phobic. But as time has passed, I think I was the problem,” Gwen said softly, lowering her gaze to her lap, then bringing it back to Shaye’s. “My background plays into it.”