Baby, Oh Baby!

by Robin Wells

  "You're a rotten liar, Annie. What's really going on?"

  Something in her snapped. She whirled around and faced him directly, her hands on her hips, the towel still in one hand. "Why don't you tell me. "

  "Tell you what?"

  Annie slapped the towel . down on the counter, anger and indignation rising inside her. "I know about the private detective, so you can cut the wide-eyed, innocent act."

  "Detective?"

  "Yes, detective."

  His brow furrowed, and his dark eyes looked so baffled that for a moment. Annie almost thought she herself must be mistaken.

  Almost, but not quite. `I suppose you have no idea what I'm talking about," she scoffed.

  "You're right about that."

  "Oh, please." Annie rolled her eyes.

  "Come on, Annie. What the hell is going on?"

  She put her hands back on her hips. "I suppose someone else hired a private detective to try to bribe my pediatrician's receptionist into releasing Madeline's records. Not to mention snooping around all over town, spreading tales about how crazy I am and how I call my alpacas Dalai Lamas and think they talk like Mr. Ed." "What?"

  Annie blew out an exasperated breath. "Oh, you're good. You're very good. You'd have a bright future in Hollywood." She pointed to the door. "I want you to leave."

  "Not until I figure out what the deuce you're talking about."

  "You know good and well what I'm talking about." "All I know is what you just told me."

  "Well, then, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you in ignorance. If you have any further questions, you can talk to my lawyer."

  "I'd love to. What's his name?"

  The request caught Annie up short. She hesitated, but only for a moment. What the heck—let him talk to Henry. At least then he'd know she didn't intend to take this lying down. Besides, it would get him out of here and give her a chance to get to the airport.

  "Henry Marlow."

  Jake whipped a cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. "What's his number?"

  "He can't be reached by phone."

  Jake cocked a leery eyebrow. "And why is that?" "Because he's in a nursing home."

  "Your attorney is in a nursing home." He shook his head, his gaze incredulous. "And you think I'd need to hire a private eye to prove you're nuts?"

  Annie experienced her first real moment of doubt. "What's the name of this nursing home?" Jake demanded.

  "Shady Acres."

  Jake strode across the kitchen with unerring certainty, straight to the drawer where Annie kept the phone book. He pulled it out and looked up the number, then grabbed the phone and punched some buttons. He spoke to a nursing home staff member, and within minutes, had Henry on the phone.

  "Mr. Marlow, this is Jake Chastaine. I understand you represent Annie Hollister." There was a brief pause. "Yes, that's right. The DNA results were positive." Another pause. "That's not why I'm calling. I'm here at Annie's house, and she's very upset about some business involving a private investigator. I've tried to tell her I knew nothing about it, but she wouldn't listen. She suggested I call you. Can you tell me what's going on?"

  A longer silence. "I assure you, I never hired Mr. Hawk."

  Tires crunched in the driveway. Jake strode to the window and peered out, the phone still to his ear. "Can you describe him? A man has just pulled up in Annie's drive, and I have a hunch it's our boy."

  Jake thanked Henry and hung up, then turned to Annie, who was lifting Madeline from the high chair. "Well?" Annie asked.

  Jake's mouth was set in a grim line. "Looks like Mr. Hawk is paying us a little visit. Better let me handle him."

  Annie eyed him warily. "Why? So you can stage a cover-up?"

  His eyes flashed with annoyance. "So I can get to the bottom of this. Keep Madeline out of sight, would you? I don't know what this jerk might try."

  Alarm shot through Annie. Clutching the baby she hurried to the dining room, where she could listen without being seen. She heard the doorbell ring, heard Jake open the door. She peered around the corner and saw an overweight man in his mid-fifties standing in the doorway.

  "I hope I'm not disturbing you," the man said, baring yellow teeth in a smile. "I'm here about your poop." "My what?"

  "I saw a sign that says you sell 'paca poop." "Oh. Uh, yeah."

  The man's eyes darted around. He craned his neck, trying to peer into the house. "I'm interested in buying some. How much poop is in a peck?"

  "Huh?"

  "The sign says `Pick a Peck of 'Paca Poop.' "

  "Oh. Right." Jake looked the man up and down, his eyes skeptical, his gaze raking over the man's cheap blue suit. He stepped forward, blocking the man's view of the interior of the house. "You don't look dressed for scooping it. This is a you-scoop-it operation."

  The man backed up and gave another horsey smile. "I see. Well, I guess I'll have to come back later. While I'm here, though, would you mind if I walk around and take a look at the animals?"

  Jake stepped out onto the porch with the man, closing the door behind him. Annie hurried to the window, where she had a clearer view.

  "If you're so interested in the alpacas," she heard Jake say, "I'm sure you'll want to see the Dalai Lamas, too."

  The man froze. He stared at Jake, his eyes cagey.

  "No?" Jake growled. "Well, how about the Dolly Partons?"

  Before either Annie or the man knew what was happening, Jake had grabbed the man's arm, twisted it behind his back, and bent him over the porch railing.

  "Hey! Hey! Ouch! Let me go!" the man yelped.

  "I know who you are, Hawk." Jake's voice was low and menacing. "And you're not going anywhere until I find out is who hired you."

  "Hey, stop! You're hurting my arm."

  "I'll hurt more than that if you don't tell me who hired you," Jake snarled. "Who was it?"

  "T—Tom M—Morrison. At Morrison and Chastaine." 1~

  Jake muttered an oath. "What are you doing here?"

  "Just checkin' things out." The man squirmed. "Come on, man—I told you what you wanted to know. Let me go!"

  Jake loosened his grasp so abruptly the man nearly ~! fell over. Straightening, the P.I. turned frightened eyes on Jake.

  Jake pointed to the man's vehicle. "Get in your car and get the hell out of here, and don't even think about coming back. I'm the Chastaine in Morrison and Chas-tame, and you can consider yourself fired."

  The man raced to his car, climbed in, and sped away, gravel flying beneath his tires.

  Jake stormed back into the house, his face a mask of anger. Annie followed him to the kitchen and watched him pick up the wall phone.

  "Who are you calling?" she asked.

  "Tom."

  "Why? To cook up some other scheme to prove I'm unfit?"

  "Annie, I swear I didn't know."

  "He was hired by your firm." Annie clutched Madeline to her chest, her heart pounding furiously. "Why should I believe you?"

  A nerve ticked in his jaw. "No reason. No reason at all." He punched some numbers into the phone. "Listen in on this conversation, if you want. Maybe that'll convince you."

  Annie hesitated, then carried Madeline to the living room. She set the child down, sank into a chair and picked up the extension just as a man's voice answered.

  "Tom, it's me," Jake said brusquely. "I want to know what the hell's going on with Bill Hawk."

  Annie heard a man clear his throat on the other end of the line. "I was going to tell you about that," said a voice that sounded as if it belonged to an older man. "Look, Jake, I can't talk. I should be on my way to the airport now."

  "When were you going to tell me?" Jake demanded. "When I had some information to pass on to you. After I got back from Geneva."

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  "Helping you. You need to know what kind of woman you're dealing with here. And from what I hear, you've got a good shot at sole custody."

  "I don't want sole custody. I don't think that's
in Madeline's best interests."

  "Oh, come on. You think it's in her best interests to be passed back and forth like a football? This Hollister woman is a mental case. Did you know she thinks she can tell fortunes? And she thinks her dead grandfather talks to her through billboards! Hell, she even thinks her llamas give her advice."

  Annie bit back a sharp retort. She'd learn more, she told herself, if Tom didn't know she was listening in.

  Jake spoke up on her behalf. "They're alpacas, and that's a bunch of bull. I want you to call Hawk off. I don't know where you found him, but he's a sleazebag. He's making up a pack of lies, spreading rumors, offering bribes—he's ruining her."

  "I didn't tell him to do anything like that."

  "Well, it's what he's doing." Jake's voice was as tight and dangerous as a bear trap. "Listen, Tom—This is my life, my child, my personal business, and I want you to stay out of it. Annie is the mother of my child, and I won't let you treat her this way."

  Tom heaved a sigh through the phone lines. "Okay. I'll tell Hawk he's off the job."

  "Do it now."

  "All right, all right. I'll make the call before I leave."

  Jake hung up the phone so abruptly that he was in the living room before Annie had even replaced the receiver in its cradle.

  "Well?" Jake demanded. "Do you believe me now?" Annie gazed at him uncertainly. "You could have staged all that."

  "Staged a spontaneous phone call?"

  Annie lifted her shoulders. "For all I know, you could have made arrangements to have this conversation if I got wind of what you were up to. You're clever enough to have thought of it."

  Jake's jaw tightened. "Well, I'm glad you think I'm as farsighted as I am devious."

  "Ink! Ink! Ink!" Madeline stretched out her arms to Jake.

  He turned to the baby, his expression softening until it completely changed his appearance. "Hey, there, sweetheart." His voice was warm, his eyes even warmer as he bent and picked up the child.

  Their child.

  Annie heaved out a long sigh. Dadblast it. Believing the worst of Jake was somehow easier than accepting that he was telling the truth.

  And he was. She knew it, knew it deep in her gut.

  He turned his eyes on her, his gaze straightforward and clear. "Believe it or not, Annie, I want what's best for Madeline."

  Annie nodded, a lump in her throat. She gazed down on the kitchen floor:

  "So where are you going?" Jake asked.

  Annie looked up, surprised.

  Jake jerked his head toward the foyer. "The suitcases."

  "Oh." Annie looked away again, unable to meet his gaze. "Well, I guess I'm not going anywhere now."

  "You were running away." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. "You were going to take Madeline and leave."

  Annie didn't respond. Jake waited for two beats. She could feel the heat of his glare, feel it bore right through her skin. "Well, this is a hell of a situation."

  Annie silently nodded her agreement.

  "You don't trust me. I can't trust you."

  Annie ventured a glance up, and the intensity in Jake's gaze nearly nailed her to the wall.

  "There's only one thing left to do," he said tersely.

  "What's that?"

  "We've got to get married."

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Married!" Annie gaped at him, her eyes as round as blue marbles.

  Jake gave a decisive nod. "That's right."

  "You're out of your mind."

  "I probably am, but listen to me anyway." Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. The old advice flitted through Jake's mind as he sank down on the sofa beside Annie and settled Madeline on his lap.

  The child twisted around and toyed with a button on his shirt, her four teeth gleaming in a grin. He inhaled the soft, baby-powder scent of her hair, and his heart filled with a desperate, aching love.

  She was so guileless, so genuine, so honestly right here in the moment. A button was a fascinating toy, the sight of a human face a reason to smile. She was the purest, most undiluted life form he'd ever encountered.

  She was a miracle—the child he had thought he would never have. It was a miracle that she existed, a miracle that he'd found her, a miracle that such a sweet, beautiful creature would light up with joy when he walked into a room.

  He knew he didn't deserve her, but oh, dear Lord, he didn't want to lose her! And if Annie. moved away and launched a battle for custody, he would. Maybe not for summer visits and alternate holidays, but for all the everyday little things, the things that made a life. Her first sentence, her first taste of ice cream, her first visit to a zoo. Knowing how to make her laugh or how to comfort her when she cried. Teaching her to ride a bike. Watching her board a school bus her first day of kindergarten.

  Most of all, he'd miss just being there, being a key part of her life—especially now, when she was forming her earliest thoughts and memories. This was when her personality was being shaped, when she was developing the traits she'd carry into adulthood, when she was learning how to deal with frustration and fear and all the other emotions that were part of being human. This was when she was forming her strongest attachments, the ones that would sustain her for a lifetime.

  More than anything, Jake wanted to be one of those attachments. Nothing was more important, and he'd do anything—anything at all—to make it happen. Including marrying Annie.

  He glanced over at her. Her eyes were huge and her lips were parted, parted in a way that reminded him of how they'd opened under his during that kiss. He abruptly looked away, annoyed at the thought. He didn't want to marry her, for Pete's sake. He had no choice. It was the only way he could make sure she didn't take the child and bolt the state.

  Annie was eccentric and full of surprises, but there was one area of her life where she was entirely predictable. When it came to Madeline, Jake knew she'd always put the child's best interests first. If he could convince Annie that Madeline needed him, that the father-daughter bond between them was so strong that Madeline would be harmed if it were ..disrupted, his worries would be over.

  In order to form that kind, of bond with his daughter, though, he needed time and access. Marrying Annie was the perfect solution.

  He bounced Madeline on his knee and angled another glance at Annie. "It wouldn't be a real marriage, of course. It would just be a temporary. arrangement. And it would be the perfect solution for everyone."

  "Perfect ... how?"

  "Well, I want a chance to get to know my daughter, and you want assurance that I'm not going to do anything underhanded to get sole custody. I can't do anything too nefarious if I'm married to you, can I?"

  "I-I guess not," Annie grudgingly conceded. "But..

  Jake held up a hand. "Please—hear me out on this. The person who would benefit the most is Madeline. If you and I are married, even for a little while, it'll make her life a lot easier in the long run. It'll be much simpler for her to explain parents who are divorced than to explain sperm banks and artificial insemination. And whether you like it or not, this is a conservative community, and a lot of folks around here have some old-fashioned ideas. Madeline is likely to face a lot of teasing and even some discrimination for having parents who never married."

  Annie's eyes were still as round as Moon Pies, but she appeared to be listening.

  Jake shifted the baby on his lap. "It'll be easier on us, too. Think of all the years of teacher conferences and PTA meetings, all the situations where our relationship will need to be explained. It'll simplify everything if we're each other's ex."

  There was another, more immediate advantage, too. Jake thought grimly. Tom wouldn't dare try to prove Annie was an unfit mother if she were Jake's wife.

  Annie's lips parted again as she stared at him. She had such beautiful lips, Jake thought distractedly—full and ripe and pouty, the kind of lips a man could just lose himself in. The memory of how they'd tasted poured over him. Disconcerted, he turned his gaze
to the baby.

  "It wouldn't be a real marriage, of course," Jake continued. "We wouldn't—wouldn't ..... Confound it, why was it so hard to say it out loud? Probably because he'd thought about it so often, he thought with a rush of guilt. He cleared his throat, but the words still came out sounding strangled. "We wouldn't sleep together."

  Annie's mouth opened further. Was it his imagination, or did her eyes hold a shadow of disappointment?

  Christ, he was really losing it, thinking a thing like that. He had no reason to think she was interested in him romantically—no reason at all, except for that kiss.

  She had kissed him back. She'd even admitted it.

  A burst of irritation shot through him. He didn't want to marry her, damn it. She was forcing him into it. And yet here he was, in the untenable position of having to talk her into it.

  He pushed down his aggravation and struggled to keep his voice even. "There's another thing to consider here, too. I want my name on Madeline's birth certificate. I also want her to take my last name, and it would simplify things if you had it, too."

  "This is crazy." Annie's eyes were wide and dazed. She pushed back her hair from her forehead, only to have it fall forward .again. "The craziest part is that it actually seems to make sense."

  "So you'll do it?"

  Annie's head swam like a school of goldfish in an overcrowded bowl. As insane as it sounded, Jake was right: a short-term marriage would make life easier for everyone in the long run. She'd already encountered several occasions where explaining or not explaining her relationship to Jake had been downright awkward. She could only imagine what Madeline would face as she grew up—a childhood of taunts and schoolyard whispers, a lifetime of clumsy explanations. Her heart ached at the thought.

  The name issue was a consideration, too. Annie didn't want to deprive Madeline of her father's last name, but at the same time, she hated the idea of having a different last name than her daughter. Marrying Jake would solve all of those problems.

  "Will you do it?" Jake repeated.

  There were lots of good, solid, logical reasons for deciding to accept Jake's proposition, Annie told herself. The fact that just the sight of him made her heart race a mile a minute had nothing to do with any of them. In fact, her physical reaction to him was a reason to be cautious.