Strictly Temporary

by Robyn Grady

  A few minutes later, finished with the bottle preparation and curious, he moved into the laundry room. Trinity was drawing the baby out from the tub, laying her on a towel she’d spread on the counter. The front of her pj’s were wet. Strands of hair, too. But with her sleeves rolled up to the elbow, she either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and Zack wondered. What usually made Trinity this happy? Who were her friends? Where did she live in New York? Maybe they’d passed each other on the street. Had caught the same elevator.

  But the bigger question was: What was in store for them this evening? He’d displayed mammoth restraint last night. When he’d whipped her over, damn near on top of him, with her breasts through that silk pressed against him and her parted lips so close and tempting, he was still amazed he’d been able to bring his rabid testosterone levels down so quickly. But he’d never forced a lady into anything and had no intention of starting now. He didn’t have to. He’d made up his mind and whenever that happened—whether in the corporate world or the bedroom—the game was as good as won. He’d been gentle on Ms. Matthews up to this point. But when the baby went down tonight, he’d work it so Trinity couldn’t consider the word no. She wasn’t the only one who knew the meaning of resolve.

  Carefully drying the baby’s damp, fair curls, Trinity noticed him standing behind her. Her smile flashed wider, white and warm.

  “Just in time. Want to shake on some baby powder?”

  His stomach kicked. “On the baby?”

  “I can powder myself so, yes, the baby.”

  He handed over the talc bottle. “You did such a good job last time.”

  She shook powder on her palm before patting the white substance pretty much all over the child then reached for an undershirt. Zack cocked his head. It was ridiculously small. Then again, so were those limbs. The way Trinity maneuvered the baby’s head then arms through those tiny openings had Zack biting his lip. The one time he’d tried a similar feat with his firstborn nephew, he’d worried he might snap something. Too delicate. Too difficult. And yet Trinity made it look easy.

  “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

  She hesitated a heartbeat. “A friend gave birth a couple of years back,” she said, reaching for a clean diaper. “I helped with bits here and there.”

  “You were never worried you might accidentally let her slide off the counter or prick her with a pin?”

  “Well, sure, you have to be careful.”

  She lifted the baby’s bottom and slid the diaper underneath. She had the outfit paradigms worked out, too, slipping snug cuffs and sleeves over those teensy fists, one of which the baby had been busy sucking. Now, interrupted, she let out a little cry while those gorgeous blue eyes filled with tears. Zack dragged a hand down his face. He hated to see her upset. How did parents stand this kind of stuff full-time? Then again some fathers didn’t. If his dad had been around more for this kind of thing in those early years, perhaps his parents’ marriage wouldn’t be going through the problems it was now. The Harrison kids loved their time away with their father in Colorado once a year, but their mom had needed more from her husband. Unfortunately, his father had realized too late.

  When the numerous snaps were pressed shut, Trinity lifted the baby and cradled her close. “Is the bottle ready?”

  “I’ll make sure it’s still warm,” he said, striding out.

  A moment later, Trinity walked into the kitchen and he stopped shaking the nipple over his wrist. After dropping a kiss to the whimpering baby’s brow, she asked, “Shall we assume positions?”

  He held up the bottle. “Torpedo ready.”

  She moved to the recliner. “Lowering into position.”

  Seated, she took the bottle. A perfect landing was made and that lulling quiet, interspersed with the sound of suckling, again reigned supreme.

  As the baby drank, Zack quietly pulled over his usual dining room chair and, at a safe distance, settled down to watch. When the bottle was half-empty, it dawned; he should have been bored. Surely any novelty had worn off by now. No way would he sit around to watch any other infant feed, and yet here he was absorbed in every movement… . How her baby blues grew drowsier, the way her fingers squeezed the bottle like a kitten padding a soft blanket.

  Then again, it wasn’t as if he could go turn on the sports or catch up on the news on his laptop, which was out of battery. If he had other things to do, he’d be off doing them.

  He was about to suggest a burp when Trinity eased the bottle away and brought the baby upright. In a blink he was back with a hand towel. Please, Lord, let there be no horrific spitting up this time. After a moment or two rubbing, the baby rewarded them by bringing up a decent amount of wind. Zack let out that breath. Good girl!

  Trinity settled farther back into the lounge chair. “Hey, we’re really getting the hang of this.”

  Zack’s chest puffed out, too, but, of course, she was speaking to the baby. Those two were the team. He was merely the runner. Which was a novelty. Usually he was the one in the driver’s seat. At the office, he called the shots and others listened. In relationships, he set the tone and parameters or he didn’t call again. He liked to get along but it needed to be on his terms. That’s how he’d managed to stay successful, as well as single. A combination that served him well.

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  Dragging his gaze away from her lips, Zack brought himself back. “What’s that?”

  “Would it be wrong to give her a name while we’re taking care of her? It doesn’t feel right calling her ‘baby’ all the time.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “What girls’ names do you like?”

  He went blank. “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Do traditional ones appeal? Emily, Molly, Beatrice?”

  “Maybe I’m more New Age.”

  “Brook, Fallon, Mira.” She lowered the baby and set the nipple back in her mouth. “Maybe Summer or Skye to go with her eyes.”

  Something clicked and he sat straighter.

  “I like Bonnie,” he said.

  “Pardon?”

  “‘Bonnie Blue Eyes.’ It’s a song.” His father used to sometimes sing it.

  Her gaze lowered to the baby again and she smiled, softer and more telling than ever. “I like it, too.”

  And he liked the way Trinity held her lip between her teeth when she was pleased. The way her eyes lit and throat made that cute humming sound. Hell, he even liked the way she rarely cut him an inch, sniping about past affairs and business decisions, neither of which she knew anything concrete about.

  Zack blinked and felt his brow furrow.

  Too much reflection. Maybe he was coming down with a strain of cabin fever.

  He crossed to the fireplace and while he selected a log from the stack, she asked, “Does your cell have service this morning?”

  “I got a call,” he said, finding the matches, “just before you two woke up.”

  “Child Services?” Her voice sounded hopeful but also a little troubled.

  “I’m sure the baby will be in good hands when she leaves us.”

  “I’d just love to know her story. What happened to her mother.”

  Same. But they couldn’t do anything about that right now. Settling that log in the fire, he changed the subject.

  “My brother Thomas called.”

  “The youngest. The one who shot out of the haunted barn’s bedroom first when the light went out.”

  “He went on to become a track-and-field star in school.”

  Trinity laughed, a light, musical sound that seemed to fill the room, so different to her kitten attempts at a growl.

  “Was he checking on how you were holding up in this weather?” she asked.

  “That, as well as seeing how I was coming along with a business transaction. We’re negotiating to buy the Dirkins hotel.”

  The penny dropped. “So that’s why you were there yesterday afternoon,” she said. “To seal the deal.�
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  “We’re not there yet.” He struck the match. “The owner’s holding out for more.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Except the hotel’s not worth any more. There’s a swag of renovations needed. Updated plumbing and a sheltered forecourt for starters.”

  “Maybe he won’t sell.”

  “He’ll sell. He just needs more time. He’s thinking with his heart at the moment, not his head.”

  “Heaven forbid.”

  “Only if you want to succeed in business.” Even when it was understandable. He prodded at the weak flames, coaxing them to grow. “James Dirkins built that place himself in the seventies. He’d wanted to pass it down to his son.”

  “What’s changed?”

  Zack set the poker aside. “His son died recently—tragically, I’m afraid.”

  He heard her gasp and imagined her clinging to the baby—to Bonnie—extra tight.

  “Poor man,” she said. “Of course he’d be thinking with his heart. Leave him alone. What’s one more piece of real estate to you?”

  She was always so ready to jump on his back. “Dirkins contacted us, not the other way round. A year after the accident, he wants to move on. I want to be the one to buy.”

  She looked down as she mulled that over. “Because of your attachment to this area?”

  “Partly.”

  “Isn’t that thinking with your heart?”

  With flames eating into the log now, he drew to his feet. “Clever, but it’s not the same.”

  “If you say so.”

  His grin held no humor. “Sure, I like this location, but I only go into a venture if I’m certain of its viability.”

  And if he ended up offering a little more than the hotel was worth, his decision would be based on future returns not sentiment. That kind of attitude got you in trouble. Lines were blurred, misjudgments made. He wouldn’t forget the time, many years ago now, when he’d bought a car from a friend who’d needed the cash. He’d paid too much and hadn’t cared until the vehicle died a week later. The rings had been gummed up using an oil additive to stop the exhaust from blowing smoke and the engine from ultimately packing it in. The sense of betrayal—of being duped because of attachments, because of trust—had been far worse than any money wasted.

  Now Zack took another clearer look at Trinity and the baby and headed for his study.

  Levelheaded. That’s the way he was, the way he needed to stay. He was only thankful that sex could be uncomplicated.Someone else could deal with heartstrings.

  Five

  An hour later, returning to the living room from fitting Bonnie with a fresh diaper, Trinity stopped in her tracks.

  Seemed Zack had grown tired of his own company and had prowled out from his study, where he’d holed up since their conversation about James Dirkins earlier. But now sorting through paperwork at the dining table, he only flicked her a cursory glance, a brief smile, before collecting his coffee and draining the cup. When she stayed put, wondering again why he’d disappeared the way he had—why he seemed so cool toward her now—he finally met her gaze.

  His lidded eyes were dark. A lock of finger-combed strong black hair hung over his brow. She’d never seen a sexier sight than Zack at this moment, somehow managing to loll in a straight-back chair, his jaw bristled with morning stubble. His look was so sultry, lazy and hot—in a heartbeat, she was reliving the scolding heat of desire he’d brought out in her the previous night.

  She’d ached to take their embrace to the next level. Falling asleep against his hard heat had almost been compensation enough. She’d felt vulnerable and yet inexplicably safe. Which was a feat in itself. Trust wasn’t her strong suit, and to think she’d felt it with Mr. Loose and Lucky here.

  “Do you need something?” he asked.

  “I figure I’d better call the office and let my boss know I won’t be in.”

  Kate Illis was a fair but strong boss. To survive in business these days, a person had to be tough. Kate had placed her chips on Trinity Matthews when she could have backed other, some might say, more talented writers. Her catch phrase was: find a way.

  Needless to say Kate would not be pleased with this wrench in the works. But even now, gazing down at baby Bonnie, Trinity couldn’t regret her decision to stay. Life was full of choices. Sometimes a person needed to put herself out on a limb. Bonnie had needed someone. And if her parents were permanently out of the picture for whatever reason, she’d need someone even more.

  Zack was saying, “…should let them know you might not make it in tomorrow, either.”

  She frowned. “You really don’t think anyone will be able to get in?”

  “Or out.”

  Rotating in the chair, he scanned the view through the window. The snow was still falling, growing deeper, it seemed, by the minute. Not for one moment had she thought she’d be in Zack’s company more than a couple of hours, and yet it seemed likely they’d have to put up with each other at least another day. He was the one who’d insisted they stay here and despite what she thought of him—what she’d read—she had to admit that he’d been patient and, in his own way, helpful. However, given his current detached demeanor, it seemed that patience might be running thin. The novelty must be wearing off. He wanted his own space back and, on a baser level, she got that. Normally, she liked her own space, too.

  With the cooing baby in her arms, she crossed over and let him know. “I’m sorry you have to put up with me this long.”

  His brows knitted then he exhaled. Almost smiled. “Trinity, I’m glad you’re here.”

  She brightened. “Really?”

  “No way would I have managed alone with diapers and burping and all that rocking.”

  She deflated again. He might have come on to her last night—probably out of Don Juan habit—but his real interest in her was clear. She recalled his expression of near horror this morning when she’d lifted diaper-drenched Bonnie into her arms. In so many ways, he was a “strong, capable male” but not when it came to baby business. As long as Bonnie was here under his roof, he needed her. Couldn’t have managed without her. But once the baby was gone…

  He was glad she was here?

  She feigned a casual shrug. “Guess you owe me one.”

  His eyes flashed and a ghost of that familiar mischievous smile touched his lips. “And how do you suggest I pay?”

  She let her imagination fly. “Oh, how about a long, decadent vacation somewhere sandy and warm? No snow.”

  “Colorful cocktails 24/7?” he asked, finding his feet and moving closer.

  “With entertainment when I want it and only the lull of rolling waves when I don’t.”

  “Are you partial to a massage or two?” he asked, circling slowly around her.

  With the baby’s weight dragging on her shoulders, she confessed, “I’d adore a massage.”

  From behind, smooth, low words brushed her ear. “With clothes or without?”

  A surprise rush of heat filled her core. She had to concentrate to brace her legs to keep her knees from caving in. Was it his sultry tone, the provocative question or the sumptuous image of his big hands sliding over her well-oiled body that left her every inch burning for attention?

  “We have a resort in the Bahamas.” His breath was warm against her crown now. “What would you say to a long weekend?”

  She tried to laugh it off. “I wasn’t serious.”

  His chin grazed her temple. “Let me know the moment you are.”

  Her legs turned to water and, eyes drifting shut again, she swayed. Guess his mood was improving. It was all she could do not to pivot around, wind her arms around his neck and bring her suddenly hungry mouth to his. Of course, there was the baby to consider. But what about tonight?

  When all was quiet and Bonnie had been put to bed, she was certain he would try to kiss her again. And if the caress was anything like the scorching moments they’d already shared…

  But then reality struck again. Zack was bored, edg
y. He was only filling in time the way he might with any woman he found attractive. No matter what he said, what he did or what he offered, she needed to remember that her being here was primarily a convenience.

  Composed again, she told him, “I should make that call.”

  She felt his considering pause for a heart-pumping moment before the warmth of his body at her back evaporated. With a fluid gait, he crossed over to the table and, broad shoulders squared, lowered himself into the same chair he’d been sitting in.

  “If your cell doesn’t have reception,” he said, collecting a document to peruse, “feel free to try mine.”

  She acknowledged the offer with a polite nod before going into the living room to set the baby down in her recliner. Her eyes bright, her darling expression content, Bonnie didn’t make a squeak. Trinity cupped her crown for a moment—so soft and warm—before asking, “Do you mind looking after her? This call should only take a minute.”

  His head flew up from his work then his jaw shifted to one side. “What if she cries?”

  “Panic?”

  While Zack’s face lost a little of its color, grinning, Trinity made her way to the bedroom where she’d stowed her belongings. She wasn’t worried the baby would cry, and if she did, despite his claims, Zack would cope. And if he didn’t cope, well, help was two seconds away. This call had to be made, and she wanted complete focus when she and Kate spoke.

  In the privacy of that room, Trinity turned her cell on, and noted the bars. After filling her lungs, she dialed. Typically efficient, Kate answered on the second ring.

  “Something wrong, Trin?”

  “A little hitch. I won’t be in today. Probably not tomorrow, either.”

  “Are you ill?”

  “Stuck in Colorado.”

  “Ah, the snow. I skimmed something about the crazy weather out that way. So your flight was canceled?”

  Trinity’s stomach swooped. She couldn’t lie. Honesty went hand in hand with respect. Kate deserved the truth.