Baby, Oh Baby!

by Robin Wells

  "Kelly Banyon on line three."

  Great. Just what he needed—especially after Jake's remark. Tom expelled a harsh sigh. He'd decided while he was in Geneva to quit toying around with Kelly. He was old enough to know that if one played with fire long enough, one was likely to get burned. The mature thing to do was to focus his attention on sorting out the situation with his wife.

  But, hell—that promised to be painful, and Kelly offered a respite from pain. When he was with her, he felt vibrant and desirable and sexy. Powerful, even—not like a limp-willied Viagra candidate. When he was with Kelly, he didn't feel impotent against life.

  With a sigh, Tom lowered himself into the chair and punched the telephone button. "Hi, Kelly."

  "Hi." Her voice was a low, sultry purr. "How was your trip?"

  "All right."

  "You don't sound like everything's all right."

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

  "The trip was fine. Everything here seems to have gone

  to hell in a handbasket while I was gone, though." "Sounds like you need some cheering up. Why don't

  you meet me for a game of racquetball this evening?" "I don't think that's wise, Kelly."

  "Oh, come on. Physical exercise will do you good. It'll clear your head and help you unwind."

  Tom hesitated. Like any good attorney, Kelly pressed her advantage. "It's just what you need. Meet me at the club at six."

  It sure sounded a lot more appealing than going home

  and arguing with Susanna about Jake and the baby. "It's just a game of racquetball," Kelly cajoled. "Are you sure that's all we're playing?"

  Kelly laughed, her voice deep and throaty. "That ball, counselor, is entirely in your court."

  Tom smiled. Damn, but he liked the way Kelly made him feel. Powerful, manly, sharp, in control.

  He was strong enough to Control this situation. What the hell could a game of racquetball hurt?

  "Okay," he relented. "See you at six."

  The summer had gained momentum as June stretched into July, the days growing hotter with each passing day. As Jake walked toward Annie's barn four weeks later, his shirt clung damply to his back, even though it Was early evening and the sun hung low in the sky.

  He topped the hill to see Annie, her back toward him, brushing out the gray alpaca inside the corral. The animal stood perfectly still, as if it were enjoying her ministrations. Hell, Jake thought with an absurd burst of envy, why wouldn't the beast? Annie's hands were playing over its body, her voice murmuring softly in its ear.

  She was wearing a brief pair of khaki shorts and a blue tank top, and her copper hair glistened in the waning sunlight. A burst of attraction shot through Jake. Ever since that kiss on the balcony the night of their wedding, Jake found it impossible to look at Annie without a.surge of desire.

  He walked closer, watching her stroke the animal's neck, then pause to clean out the brush and stuff the fur into a burlap sack. "Thanks a lot, Smoky Joe," he heard her murmur. "That was a lovely bit of wool you donated today."

  Jake smiled at the polite way she talked to the animal. He'd learned that Annie's infatuation with alpacas had a practical side: their fleece was extremely valuable. She had discovered a niche market of specialty stores that catered to weaving and knitting enthusiasts, and she sold the harvested fleece directly to them. There was a lot more to Annie than he had initially assumed. She was eccentric—there was no doubt about it—but she also had a very good head on her shoulders.

  The alpaca pulled back his velvety lips and showed his teeth before he ambled a few feet away.

  "If I didn't know better, I'd think that creature was smiling at you," Jake called.

  Annie whipped around, the curry brush in her hand. Her face lit with a smile that made his heart pound a herky-jerky beat. "Jake! I didn't expect you this evening."

  He hadn't.really expected to be there, either. The arrangement they'd agreed upon was that he'd visit on the weekends and stay in Tulsa during the week. Since this was Wednesday, he wasn't due for another two nights.

  In the four weeks that they'd been married he'd found himself coming up with more and more excuses to spend more and more time at Lucky.

  He told himself it was because of the tension between Tom and him at work. A distinct frostiness now characterized their relationship, and Jake avoided spending any more time around the man than necessary. He'd consequently quit working late hours at the office, but that left him with nothing to do with his evenings. He hated going home to rattle around that big empty house by himself.

  He much preferred being here on the ranch. He loved being with Madeline, making her laugh, watching her learn new skills, hearing her add new words to her rapidly expanding vocabulary. He loved being outdoors, too. He'd forgotten how good it felt to feel wind on his face and the sun on his back. He'd even started playing around out in the barn with some of the woodworking equipment that had belonged to Annie's grandfather. There was something satisfying about turning a block of wood into an object he'd pictured in his mind. He loved the sawing and sanding and polishing, loved the solid feel of wood in his hands. He'd found a stash of high quality oak, and he'd begun making a rocking horse for Madeline.

  But there was another reason he liked being here at the ranch, a reason he was uncomfortable admitting, even to himself. He liked being around Annie. He liked it a lot.

  Her grin widened. "What brings you all the way out here in the middle of the week?"

  Stooping down, Jake climbed through the rails of the fence and strolled toward her. "I had a meeting in Broken Arrow. Since I was on the far side of Tulsa anyway, I figured I might as well drive on over."

  Annie nodded. She was always gracious enough to pretend his lame excuses were perfectly logical. "Madeline will be glad to see you."

  What about you? Jake rubbed his jaw, wishing he could rub away the inappropriate question, rub away the attraction that burned behind it. He didn't want to be attracted to Annie. It complicated everything. Try as he might, though, he couldn't erase the memory of how sweet her body had felt, or how eagerly her lips had clung to his.

  "Where is the little squirt?"

  "Looking at a baby calf in the back field with Ben.Here they come now."

  Jake looked where Annie pointed and saw the large man top a grassy hill in the distance, Madeline perched on his overalled shoulders. Jake lifted his arm and waved. The baby grinned widely and began bouncing on Ben's shoulders. "Ink! Ink! Ink!"

  Jake's smile felt like it began in a warm spot of his chest and expanded outward.

  "I told you she'd be glad to see you," Annie said. "She probably thinks I brought her another toy. I'm afraid I'm empty-handed today."

  "You don't have to bring a toy every time you come. You underestimate your appeal."

  "With Madeline, or with you?" The remark was out before he considered the wisdom of making it. Annie did that to him—made him toss out remarks without weighing his words. It was a dangerous trait, considering how physically attracted he was to her. When he was with her, he found himself talking more freely than he had with anyone since Rachel. The thought made him frown.

  Annie grinned at him. "Don't look so worried. You have immense appeal to the world at large."

  "Ha! I doubt that Tom would agree with that." He unlatched the corral gate and held it open for Annie.

  She stepped through it. Together, they started walking toward Ben and Madeline, who were still a good distance away. "Things are still strained between you and he?"

  "To put it mildly."

  "Susanna was afraid that was the case."

  Jake's eyebrows rose as he looked at her. "You've talked to Susanna?"

  Annie nodded. We talk regularly. In fact, she's coming out to see Madeline in a week or two."

  A stab of guilt shot through Jake. He hadn't talked to Susanna since the wedding. He made a mental note to call and invite her to lunch later in the week. Just because Tom was behaving like a jerk was
no reason to let his relationship with her suffer. "How's she doing?"

  "She's staying busy—seeing old friends and heading up two new charity events. She's even joined a tennis team." Annie hesitated. "I get the. impression you're not the only one having trouble with Tom, though. It sounds like things are pretty strained between the two of them as well."

  Ben and Madeline. were drawing near. The older man set Madeline on the ground, and . the toddler scampered toward them, the cat face on her red playsuit bobbing as she ran. "Ink! Ink!"

  Jake scooped her up in his arms and swung her around. Madeline giggled gleefully. Jake's heart felt as full and warm as his arms.

  "I hope you can stay for dinner," Annie said. "I was hoping you'd ask."

  An hour later. Annie grinned at Jake across the remnants of a baked chicken. "I have a surprise for you."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yeah." Annie's eyes flickered mischievously. "I've discovered your deepest, darkest secret."

  Jake tensed. Oh, damn—surely she hadn't discovered how much he wanted her. He eyed her warily.

  Her smile widened. "It's something you've probably wanted every time you came out here, but didn't think you could have."

  Oh, Lord. He grinned uncertainly.

  "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

  "Afraid not."

  "Well, close your eyes."

  What was she going. to do? Surely not a striptease—not in front of the baby! All the same, his palms grew damp and his heart thumped hard in anticipation.

  "Close your eyes," she repeated.

  He did as she requested. He heard her chair scrape back and heard the pantry door open, then close. He felt her arm brush his shoulder and smelled the enticing scent of her perfume as she placed something on the kitchen table in front of him.

  "Okay. You can open your eyes now."

  Jake blinked. Sitting in front of him was a plate piled high with Twinkies. Two, four, six ... good grief, there were a half-dozen stacked there on the plate!

  Annie stood back, her arms folded, looking very pleased with herself. "I found two empty cartons of Twinkies boxes in the pantry, along with one that was still half full. I hadn't realized you had such a sweet tooth, but since you apparently do, well, I want you to feel free to indulge it."

  For a brief moment, he considered eating them. It would probably be easier to force down six Twinkies in one sitting than to tell her the truth.

  Just then Madeline caught sight of the snack cakes and frantically kicked her legs against the high chair. "Ink! Ink! Ink!"

  The gig was up. Jake drew a deep breath. "Um, Annie, I have an embarrassing confession to make."

  Annie patted Jake's shoulder and shot him a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's okay. Lots of people are secret junk food junkies. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Go ahead. Dive in." She picked up an empty platter and carried it to the sink.

  From the corner of his eye, Jake saw the baby straining toward the Twinkies, her hands outstretched, her brow furrowed with determination. "I've been meaning to tell you this, Annie, but..

  Madeline had worked up a full head of steam by now. Kicking furiously, she banged her tiny fists on her tray and screeched, "Ink! Ink! INK!"

  Oh, jeeze. He'd better hurry up and just spit it out. "When you were in the hospital and Madeline was crying, you said to give her a Binky. I—I'm afraid I misunderstood."

  Annie's back was toward him, but he saw her freeze. Madeline was now screaming at the top of her lungs, her face an alarming shade of red. Jake quickly placed two Twinkies on her tray. She stopped in mid-yowl, grabbed one in each hand and crammed them both in her mouth.

  Jake used the ensuing silence to finish his confession. "When she says `Ink,' she's trying to say Twinkie. The truth is, she's a Twinkie addict, and I'm her supplier."

  Annie still stood at the sink. He wished she would turn around so he could he could see her expression.

  "I'm really sorry." His words tumbled out in a rush. "I know you go to a lot of trouble to make sure she eats healthy foods. I haven't given her any in weeks—not since I figured out you were talking about her pacifier.

  I wanted to tell you, but it was such a numbskull thing to do, and I didn't want you to think I was totally incompetent when it came to caring for her...."

  Annie just stood there, her back toward him. He wished she would say something. He rose and walked toward her. "Aw, Annie, it couldn't have done any real harm. Come on, now—don't be mad at me." He put his hand on her shoulder.

  She turned toward him. She wasn't angry, he realized with relief. She was cracking up with laughter. She leaned against him, laughing until tears ran down her face.

  She finally drew a breath and wiped her eyes. "Well, you get points for coming clean about it."

  He looked at her accusingly. "You knew."

  The remark set off a fresh round of giggles. Annie looked at Madeline, who was holding the stubs of two snack cakes in her fists, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's. "Madeline gave it away. She went nuts when I found the Twinkie boxes in the pantry."

  Jake rubbed his head, feeling like an idiot. "I should have told you," he admitted. "It was just such a stupid thing to do...."

  Annie's eyes danced. "It would have been stupider if you'd sat there and actually eaten six of them to keep me from finding out."

  Jake grinned back. "You would have let me do that, too, wouldn't you?"

  "I would have. But I didn't think Madeline would."

  He laughed and gazed into her eyes—into her laughing, impish, blue eyes—and felt an almost overwhelming surge of attraction.

  "Twinkie." Annie cocked her head as she said the word, as if she were testing it on her tongue. "You know, I kind of like the name. Maybe I should start calling you that, too."

  "Don't you dare."

  "I just might, just to see what you'll do."

  "I know what I'd like to do." His words came out low.. and husky and full of innuendo. The ever-present chemistry between them began to smoke. He gazed at her, and she gazed back. The air in the room suddenly grew several degrees warmer.and strangely harder to breathe.. `. "Annie ..." he murmured.

  "Ink! Ink! Ink!"

  The jarring interruption made them both turn toward the high chair, where a cream-covered Madeline was , straining to reach the plate of remaining Twinkies.

  Annie scurried to the table and picked up the plate. "That's more than enough, sweetheart," she told the baby. She turned to Jake. "Since you're the one responsible for the layer of cream filling Madeline's wearing, I think you should be the one to wash it off. So why don't you take over bath duty tonight"—she shot him a mischievous smile—"Twinkie?"

  By the time Jake got the baby out of the tub thirty minutes later, he was nearly as soaked as she was. He'd managed to carry her to the nursery, dry her off and put on her diaper, but his hair was still dripping in his eyes. as he squatted on the floor, struggling to work the child's arm through her nightgown. Annie walked into the baby's bedroom and smiled.

  "What did she do—pull you into the tub with her?"

  "Almost." With a final tug, he managed to get the night gown on the squirming toddler. Madeline immediately waddled over to a basket of stuffed animals and began pulling them out onto the floor.

  Jake started to rise from his crouched position, thenfroze as something soft touched his head. He looked up to find that Annie had picked up the towel and was using it to dry his hair. The gentleness of her hands jolted him.

  It had been a long time since someone had touched him like this. A handshake, an occasional pat on the back, a kiss on the cheek from Susanna-those were the only types of physical contact he'd had since. Rachel had died. He'd never realized how important the sense of touch was, until it was suddenly missing from his life.

  "How did you get so drenched?" Annie asked.

  Her fingers were weaving a spell. Her breasts were just above eye level. Jake found it hard to. breathe, much less to talk. "Madeline hit me with a loa
ded sponge toy;'

  Annie's breasts swayed mesmerizingly above his forehead. He tried to focus on what he was saying, but all he could think about was the beauty of those breasts, .so close to his face. He could lean up and kiss them. He could reach up and touch them. He wondered what she'd do if he did.

  Annie gave his hair a final tousle, then stepped back, the towel in her hand. "There. That's better."

  No, it's rat. It was much better when you were touching me.

  Madeline toddled over, a stuffed toy dachshund in her hand. "Aw Dah," she announced.

  Annie looked at Jake, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Did you hear that?"

  "What?"

  "She just said `Hot Dog.'

  Madeline gave a gummy smile and waved the stuffed toy. Jake looked from the child to Annie and shook his head. "You're imagining things. She's just making baby sounds."

  "No, she said it. She misses Hot Dog since he's gone back home, now that Ben and Helen are back." Annie crouched down beside the child and gave her an encouraging smile. "Who have you got there, Madeline? What's the name of your puppy?"

  "Aw Dab."

  "See?" Annie's face beamed with pride. She scooped the child into a big hug. "What a smart girl, Madeline! That toy looks like Hot Dog, doesn't it?"

  "Aw Dab," Madeline confirmed.

  "She did say it!" Jake exclaimed. "She said Hot Dog, clear as day." Jake jubilantly lifted the child in his arms and swung her around. "You're one smart little cupcake, aren't you?"

  Madeline grinned up. "Aw Dab."

  Annie caught Jake's eye and laughed. Madeline did, too. Jake's heart filled to bursting. His fifteen-month-old daughter had said hot dog! He couldn't have felt prouder

  if he'd won the Nobel Peace Prize, snagged a Pulitzer, ,.. and finished first in the Boston Marathon, all at the same time.

  This is what it's like to be a family, he thought.

  The thought made him pause. The three of them were a family, at least biologically and legally. But they weren't a real family, not in the real sense of the word.

  He and Annie were, married, but the marriage was just a matter of convenience. They'd made a child together, but they'd never made love.