Cute Carly drew in a sharp breath, and sympathy flashed in her eyes right on cue. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. It’s just the two of us.”
She shifted from one leg to the other. “Well, okay. I can help you, since I’m a baby expert and all. Plus, I don’t want you to think that I’m not neighborly, because I am. But just today!”
Levi let his shoulders unkink and carried Grace’s car seat inside. He set it down on the hardwood floor of the entryway and handed her the diaper bag he’d packed.
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Here.” She handed him a scrap of paper and a pen. “Write down your phone number so I can reach you.”
He gave her his cell phone number and also the number for Mcallister Charters and Magnum Aviation. And the local hospital. And poison control. He had all of them memorized. He also got Carly’s phone number, then with one last kiss on Grace’s sweet forehead, he headed out the door.
Levi climbed in his truck, where he studied his neighbor’s house for a moment. Like his rental, it was a small tract home. Unlike his house, she had rows of colorful flowers lining the front yard and several others in pots hanging from the eaves. Fit right in with this older residential neighborhood. He made a mental note that he should probably buy some of them flowers at some point if he was going to stay in the rental. Grace should grow up in a home that reflected some kind of femininity. Not that she wouldn’t play sports with the boys if that was what she wanted, and of course he prayed that she did, because he could help her with that.
Should he go back and get his baby and rethink this whole thing? He tended to reconsider every one of his decisions thanks to Sandy’s parents. One false move on his part, one mistake, and he might give them ammunition. The last thing he wanted was a long, protracted legal battle he couldn’t afford.
But the warmth in Carly’s eyes when she’d heard about Grace’s mother told him she was compassionate. Kind. Maybe he’d assumed too much and far too easily, but he had a good sense of people, and it hadn’t failed him yet. No. This was good.
He started his truck and headed to the airport.
CHAPTER TWO
FROM A SHORT DISTANCE, Carly Gilmore had definitely noticed her new neighbor. Once when she’d had the day from hell. But up close and personal, the way he’d been on her doorstep this morning, he was a blend of tall and rugged, with a bad-boy charm that scrambled with her brain. He had deep and dark blue eyes that promised the fun kind of trouble, sun-kissed dark blond hair and a cleft in his chin that made him ridiculously gorgeous. She was grateful for a small scar through his left eyebrow that at least kept him from being prettier than her.
She’d done a double take on the baby because, really? Some woman had tamed this dude and made him a father. Which proved, as one of her best friends, Zoey, believed, that miracles happened every day. They just didn’t happen for Carly.
But what kind of a father left his precious baby with a complete stranger?
Answer: one like her neighbor Levi Lambert, who had probably rarely heard the word no coming out of a woman’s mouth. He’d so easily trusted her on the whole baby-expert thing. An exaggeration on her part, of course, but she was trying. That counted for something. His timing couldn’t be better. She’d say that for him. Today, of all days, she could use his baby.
“You’re a good sleeper.” Carly carried the car seat and diaper bag into the kitchen.
The poor, motherless child.
Normally, hearing of such a sad situation, Carly would shed tears on a dime. But these days, she was all cried out. She bent down to get a better look at Grace. This must be the baby she’d seen Annie pushing last week in the newest Koolbaby stroller on the market. But until now she’d never had a good look at the baby. Her lashes were long and beautifully dark, and she had her father’s dark blonde hair. Did she also have his beautiful dark blue eyes?
“Your daddy is quite the looker,” Carly said quietly.
He had one of those rare and one hundred percent real Southern drawls that turned most women into limp noodles. Good thing Carly would not be one of them. She found the formula bottles he’d packed in the diaper bag and put them in the fridge. He owned some of the nicer baby bottles made by Just Like Mommy, the ones with the nipple that was supposed to most correctly resemble a human one. She’d given it a high rating last month on the blog and pretty much guessed at the efficacy. Maybe she’d ask Levi later, if she could ever bring herself to ask a man like him whether his baby liked the nipple. She shook her head. Nope, not going to ask him. She’d see how Grace liked it when she gave her a bottle later.
This TotLuv diaper bag was also a good choice, one she’d given a five-star rating to, leading her to wonder if someone had chosen these items based on her blog’s recommendations. It gave her a little dash of hope. Maybe, just maybe, her late mother’s dream wasn’t going to go down in flames with Carly at the helm.
A year ago, after Pearl had passed away, it seemed she would take her company with her. She’d built RockYourBaby.com from the ground up, a labor of love based on raising three children. Pearl had been the true baby expert. Her mother was the one who belonged at the helm of RockYourBaby.com, and Carly was merely the impostor.
Impostor or not, she now operated the company until they could sell it, because no one else wanted to run the company. Her father, who had retired from PG&E, had broken his hip and now lived in Maine with her oldest brother, Kirk, a civil engineer. The physical therapy bills were through the roof, Daddy wasn’t getting any better, and among the many reasons to sell the company, one was to help pay for his treatment. Her other brother, Allen, was a lawyer in Tempe, Arizona, and since Carly was the only one with double X chromosomes, her brothers left it to her to salvage the business and restore it to what it had been before their mother died so they could sell it for a tidy profit.
Carly’s laptop rang. “Shh.”
She picked Grace up by the car seat handle and carried the seat closer to her office—otherwise known as the kitchen table. She settled Grace on the floor near the entrance of the kitchen and flew to the laptop to stop the ringing before it woke her up.
“Hello? Carly?” Jill, her other best friend, had taken to Skyping Carly from locations on the outskirts of town. The reception wasn’t always the best.
Carly sat and turned to face the laptop camera. “I’m here.”
“What’s with your hair today?” Jill looked sideways through the screen.
Crap, was that what she looked like? And she’d answered the door to Mr. Hunk like this?
“I’ve had a rough morning.” Carly smoothed her hair down into place and reached for her hair clip.
She hadn’t even dressed. Last night she’d gone through the closet full of eBay fashion steals she’d accumulated over the years and set out her clothes for the next morning. She’d done that ritual every day for years. Her ribbed sweetheart-neck Urban Outfitters minidress paired with a cropped denim jacket and her Marc Jacobs Chelsea booties had been all ready for her this morning. But she’d taken one look at the supercute outfit and didn’t have the energy. What for, when she would be sitting in front of a laptop most of the day?
Jill’s face moved away from the screen and scanned her outdoor surroundings. “This could be the perfect location. It’s even got a little boat dock by the lake. Sure, it needs a little work, but the owner is motivated.”
A little work? Carly squinted. The boat dock seemed to be a wooden plank.
“Maybe you should keep looking.”
“I’m meeting with the owner later today. It couldn’t hurt. I hear they’re desperate.”
Sounded familiar.
Soon both of her best friends would be firmly entrenched in pursuing their lofty dreams. Jill with her long-held dream to restore an outdated inn, and Zoey as the owner and operator of Pimp Y
our Pet. They were both moving forward with their lives and dreams, while Carly was stuck. RockYourBaby.com was definitely not the best use of her fashion design degree.
She would never be able to move on to her own future if she didn’t sell and get out from under RockYourBaby.com. But they kept losing sponsors, the real bread and butter of her mom’s company. Carly feared she had a tiny authenticity problem. Namely, the entire RockYourBaby brand was now a bald-faced lie. She was at the helm of a company with a brand that was trusted and regarded for baby knowledge.
Ideally, she needed to create an image that would resonate with the RockYourBaby audience. Then they might be able to sell to a larger company. Carly had already decided she’d give most of her share of the money from the sale to Kirk, to help care for their father. Their dad, Jerry, needed almost constant care these days. Therapy and medications were not cheap, and health insurance helped with only a small part of it. The sooner she could get this company’s value up and sold, the quicker her father could get adequate care.
No pressure.
“I say you keep looking.”
Grace squirmed. She opened up wide blue eyes and blinked a couple of times. Uh-oh. The thing was awake now.
Jill’s face appeared on the monitor again. “And how are you doing? What did your mom’s accountant suggest?”
Carly didn’t want to talk about it. Patsy had suggested it was all a matter of perception and it occurred at every major firm when there was a change at the helm. RockYourBaby.com was simply no longer relevant.
Ouch.
Still, the suggestion was that though they’d lost some footing in the market, recovery was feasible. Her mother had created a solid brand. In other words, all was not lost. Yet.
Grace let out a piercing wail, and Carly stood and walked out of the camera’s view to unbuckle the baby from her seat. She picked her up carefully, like she was fine china, and carried her to the table slowly so neither one of them would fall.
“What was that?” Jill was saying. “Did you get a cat?”
“Sorry.” Carly propped Grace on her lap and resumed the Skype chat.
Jill stared, jaw dropped. “Um? Care to explain? What are you doing with a baby?”
“Oh, this is my neighbor’s baby. Grace. His sitter cancelled last minute, so he came over and begged me to watch her for a day. Can you believe it? He doesn’t even know me. Rookie dad.”
“What are you thinking, offering to babysit? Like you don’t have enough to do.”
“First, I didn’t offer. He asked. And I’ll be able to finish my blog post with some real honest research and not just the Watch-Me-Tinkle baby doll.”
“This is not your brightest idea. You should stick with the dolls.”
“That’s not real research. I need to own this baby-expert thing.”
“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that baby is about to blow. She’s puckering up for a good, loud scream.”
Carly turned Grace so she could see her face. Sure enough, she had a stiff bottom lip and her tiny, angelic sleeping face had turned a frightening shade of mauve. She took one look at Carly and out came an earsplitting wail.
“Oh, no!” Carly stood up with her. “How did you know?”
“I worked as an au pair the year I lived abroad,” Jill shouted. “I don’t remember much, but I know that look.”
“What do I do now? Help me!”
“In order to really help, I’d have to rewind to the minute you agreed to help Hot Dad out!”
“How do you know he’s hot?” Carly swayed and rocked with Grace on her hip. She didn’t know if that would help, but it felt like the right thing to do.
“Just a guess.”
Grace continued to screech, a wild and guttural sound that scared Carly. Grace’s mouth was wide-open, so Carly could see down to her tonsils, and she was sure they were vibrating. Was that even normal? What if she was hurt? She’d never forgive herself!
“Okay. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”
“No! Wait.” Carly danced back to her monitor. “Are vibrating tonsils a thing?”
“I can’t hear you.” And then Jill, Carly’s one connection to the outside world, was gone.
Gah!
Carly searched through Levi’s diaper bag one-handed, silently praying he wasn’t one of those parents that thought pacifiers were the devil. She found one, thank God, and stuck it in Grace’s mouth. She promptly spit it out.
Why did Grace have to be one of the babies who didn’t like pacifiers?
“Please stop crying, little baby. Oh, please.” Carly danced around the kitchen, but that did absolutely nothing except perhaps burn a few extra calories. “Maybe you’re hungry. Yes! Why didn’t I think of that?”
How could such a little thing let out a scream worthy of the lead singer in a hard-core metal band? How could her lungs be big enough?
Carly reached for a baby bottle from the fridge. Let’s see. She remembered reading about this in her mother’s baby bible before she’d done a blog post on “Bottle or Breast? Which Way Is Best?” Of course, in a million years she hadn’t implied that a mother should do it one way or another. No idiot, just like Mom, Carly vowed to stay clear of titty politics. She’d simply listed options. The bottle way was to warm one in a pan of hot water. No microwaves!
Time slowed to a snail’s pace as she filled a pan of water and waited for it to simmer, then stuck the bottle in, while simultaneously holding a baby who was screaming so loudly Carly wondered if she’d ever regain her hearing in the left ear. She did all of this while dancing and swaying and begging. But Grace seemed immune to all the begging.
“You looked so sweet and innocent when you were asleep,” Carly said, near tears herself. “Your daddy fooled me.”
Carly tested the baby bottle on her wrist. At this point she’d settle for anything between arctic cold and the fires of hell and damnation. Good enough. She settled on a kitchen chair and offered Grace the bottle. She latched on to it like Carly would the last dress on clearance at Saks Fifth Avenue. Carly threw her head back in relief and sighed. Finally, blessed silence, other than the sucking sounds of Grace and her bottle. Amazing how much Carly had taken silence for granted. She never would again.
“Yes, that’s all it was. You were hungry. Sorry, I shouldn’t have been so slow, but I was lying about being a baby expert.”
Lying had started to come so easily these days, but that was what happened when you were pretending to be someone else.
Or maybe it was what happened when you’d forgotten who you were.
Boy, Grace was sucking down this bottle of milk in a New York minute. Carly tensed, worried the silence would be over soon. And sure enough, Grace was eyeing Carly as she drank her milk, no doubt making plans to unleash the hounds of hell on Carly when she finished the important business of eating.
“Listen, this isn’t my fault. Your daddy was in a bind. Please don’t hate me.”
Grace got to the end of the bottle, first sucking down the last dregs and then just air. Carly didn’t know much, but that couldn’t be good. She gently pulled the bottle away from Grace. She reacted by sticking out her bottom lip, scrunching up her pixie face and letting go a wail worthy of a wounded animal.
And Carly was back to swaying, rocking and begging.
Mostly begging.
CHAPTER THREE
“THANK YOU FOR flying with Mcallister Charters,” Levi said to the businessmen he’d picked up in Las Vegas and transported to Fortune.
He glanced at his phone. No messages or missed calls, and no news would always be good news in his book. Still, he wanted to check in with Cute Girl and make sure everything was cool with Grace. It was true that she slept on and off most of the day, but her crying had been enough to drive one nanny away. He stayed seate
d in the plane as his passengers walked across the tarmac toward the hangar.
Carly answered on the fourth or fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Hey. How’s it going? How’s my baby girl?”
“Okay. She’s very sweet, but, um, she cries a lot. Does she do that with you?”
“Yeah. What’s she doing right now?”
“She’s taking a nap.”
She did some of that during the day in between all the screaming. “Good. I had hoped she wouldn’t be too much trouble for you.”
“Well...no, she’s fine. So cute.”
Was that hesitancy in her voice? “Is it okay, then, if I stay until my shift is over?”
“Of course. You take your time. I’ll be here.”
Levi hung up, pretty proud of his baby girl converting Cute Stuck-Up Girl into a fan, and strode inside the hangar. He checked email from his phone.
Another message from Sandy’s father, Frank, saying that, no, they couldn’t come to see Grace in California. Did he have any idea how expensive plane tickets were to people who were not pilots? Why didn’t he just fly himself to Atlanta and stay with them for a few weeks? They wanted to see Grace. He fired off another email explaining that he was a working man and couldn’t take that much time off.
One thing appeared to be certain—they’d never be happy until he handed Grace over to them.
He headed toward Magnum Aviation’s offices to check in with Cassie. The older woman pretty much ran the show around here, even if she kept threatening to retire. She’d worked for Stone’s late father and had stayed on the past few months to ease the transition. Levi guessed it was a consequence of this being a small, south county airport, but it did seem as though there were an awful lot of relatives working it.
Emily Parker was Stone’s fiancée and one of their regular pilots. Sarah, Stone’s sister and part owner of the business, was a local artist who occasionally worked at the Short Stop Snack Shack. She also happened to be engaged to Matt Conner, one of Levi’s best buddies from the air force and also a pilot on staff. So if it seemed that there were about two degrees of separation from Stone and half of the people who worked for him, Levi would not be wrong. Basically, he, Jedd Taylor, the mechanic, and Cassie were the odd ones out. They should form a club.
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