She felt herself blush again, but she was not going to let him get away with that. “But can it get the job done?”
His gaze raked her up and down, making her whole body feel like an August heat wave. She suddenly wished she could throw open the long row of pull-out windows for some cool evening air. In the seconds she was distracted by her hormonal flash, he had the diaper wrapped, taped, and tucked, neat as an Indian bunting.
“There you go.” He shot her a wickedly pleased look.
“You cheated.”
“Did not. How could I have cheated?”
“I don’t know, but no one diapers anything that quickly.”
“They do if they babysit my brother’s kids all the time.”
She poked him in the arm again, but his biceps were so taut her finger practically bounced. “Aha, so you did cheat.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you, I have a lot more experience than I had in high school.”
“Who doesn’t?” she retorted.
“Ahem.”
They both looked up to see Dr. Bailey standing in front of them. “We’ve moved on to the next topic,” she whispered, not unkindly. “I’d suggest you two pay attention.”
“Now you’ve gone and gotten us in trouble,” Olivia said darkly.
“We’re adults. We can’t get in trouble for talking.”
“Shhh. I have to listen.”
“You always were teacher’s pet.”
She tossed him a glare to shut him up. The doctor showed PowerPoint slides of bathing a baby.
“Why are you taking notes?” Brad whispered, his breath tickling her cheek. He grazed her shoulder with his warm, muscular one. Who could concentrate with those fresh soap and hot-blooded-man-body-spray smells assaulting her nostrils?
“Because I’m trying to learn something. Unlike you.”
“Maybe I just know it all already.”
“No crib bumpers,” the doctor continued. “And always put the baby to sleep on her back because of SIDS risk.”
Brad tipped backwards in his chair and raised his hand. “Doc, I imagine they get tired of being in the same position all the time.”
“Well, it’s up to you parents or caregivers to give babies time on their tummies when they’re awake. If not, they can get plagiocephaly and have to wear a helmet.”
“Plag—e—o—what?” a father-to-be asked from the front row.
Brad interjected. “It’s when they develop flat spots on their heads.”
“Who’s teacher’s pet now?” Olivia grumbled. “Or are you just trying to get in her pants?”
Brad displayed an expression of mock shock. “How could you even think that of me? I’m offended.”
“Why do you live to irritate me?”
His green eyes twinkled. “Because it’s fun.”
“Take a look at the samples of formula in front of you,” Dr. Bailey continued. “One is a liquid concentrate, one is ready to use, and one is a powder.”
Olivia looked at the various-sized containers. She’d had no idea there were so many choices.
“Here in Mirror Lake, we have to be sure to use low-fluoride water. Can anyone tell us why?”
Olivia’s stomach turned a tumble. She’d been using water straight from the tap. Her hand began to shake as she took notes.
The doctor’s words ran together. Olivia’d totally missed that part about the fluoride, still in a panic about using tap water. Had she done something bad to Annabelle in some way she wasn’t even aware of? She didn’t even know the basics about caring for a child.
A slide flashed by about cutting fingernails. How on earth would she ever manage to hold Annabelle’s tiny fingers still? She shuddered again when she thought of the cute bumpers around Annabelle’s mattress. Those would have to go, too. What else didn’t she know?
A big hand covered her own. “You all right?” Brad asked. His eyes were warm with concern. Or fake concern, she couldn’t tell.
Olivia swallowed past the baseball clogging her throat. “I-I didn’t know to use special water. Or boil new bottles. We didn’t do that in the grocery store, we just ripped open the package and—”
Brad squeezed her hand. His touch was firm and gentle all at once. “She’ll be fine, Olivia. It’s just a precaution. And that was an emergency.”
It was all so complicated. Dangers lurked everywhere. She didn’t need an evening class, she needed a graduate seminar. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes.
“Raising a child is a scary business,” Brad said. “Even for two parents who have a support system of family nearby,” Brad said. His voice was gentle but his message rankled.
I’m not good enough. I never will be. The grim reality seeped into her bones like a damp chill. Maternal instincts apparently hadn’t made it into her genetic code.
Once she went back to New York, she was on her own, responsible for an infant she hadn’t read the instruction manual on. And the warranty would be expired. There was no going back.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Brad continued. “Maybe you need to think about what’s best for Annabelle.”
That startled her. When had she not thought of Annabelle? “Wh-what do you mean?”
“What I mean is you’re always so independent, so take-charge. Maybe in this instance that’s not the best thing.”
She frowned. Her stomach gave a nauseating churn. He was calling into question her ability to mother Annabelle. That wasn’t new. But what if he was right?
“I’m saying give it a try, see what happens, but you’ve got a safety net if it doesn’t work out.”
“I’m not getting what you’re saying.” Was he being his usual annoying self, or was he seeing some cold, hard truth she could not even admit to herself?
“Tom and Alex would never interfere with what you want. But they’d be there if you felt it wasn’t going to work out.”
“Have they . . . said something to you?”
“Of course not. But they love Annabelle, too, and I have a feeling they wouldn’t hesitate to take her if you felt you couldn’t.”
She wished she could say that her caring for Annabelle was what her sister intended, but in her heart, she didn’t believe that. Somehow, her name had gotten written in on the wills. As a whim, perhaps. In the space that said “next of kin,” her sister probably scratched it in and got Kevin to do the same, never imagining this nightmare would come to fruition.
He squeezed her hand again. “You’ll make the right decision. And as for the bottles, Annabelle will be fine. No reason to panic.”
Olivia drew in a deep breath. She had to get a grip. He was right. The baby was fine, no harm was done. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little . . . overwhelmed.”
“You’ll work it out.”
His sure and confident tone didn’t comfort her frayed nerves. As class ended, she packed up the diaper bag with the Mirror Lake Community Hospital logo on it that everyone received for free. Brad handed her the diapers and the formula.
“You know, it’s a little odd, having the tables turned like this,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you were always the perfect one. Straight As, full scholarship to NYU. I was lucky to graduate.”
She stopped packing the bag. “You worked three jobs to support your family. And used to drink four cups of coffee every morning just to stay awake in class.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, as uncomfortable with praise as he’d been years ago. “There wasn’t much time back then for books—or leisure. But I’m making up for it now.”
Women were surely lined up clear to Hartford to date him. Olivia remembered a recent style magazine article featuring up-and-coming entrepreneurs. It had chronicled Brad’s lifestyle, the fact that he supported his hometown—and his state—but also traveled intern
ationally to explore new menu ideas. There was a photo spread of him in Greece, his arm wrapped around a stunning woman who was probably a model. Yes, he took his leisure, all right.
The table was clear. Brad replaced his cap on his head. “Well, I’ve got to be going.”
Panic welled up fresh inside her. Not that Brad was especially comforting but the thought of being left alone with Annabelle suddenly terrified the living daylights out of her. “Wait,” she called after him. “How did you know so much about everything? It must’ve involved more than babysitting.”
“Tom and Alex read every baby book known to man before they had their first kid. When I babysat, I guess I got bored and read a couple of them.”
“Oh.” The hottest bachelor in Mirror Lake babysat and read parenting how-to books. Who’d have figured?
Awkward silence descended. For once Olivia couldn’t think of a barb to jab him with, or a quip to get his goat.
“See you around,” Brad said cordially—too nicely. She wished they were joking lightly like before. She would rile him up enough, and he would zing her back with some smartass remark. But the mood had shifted. Without another word, he turned and walked his fine backside up the aisle and out the rec center door.
As Olivia slung the bag over her shoulder and made her own way out, she realized coming to baby class hadn’t helped at all. It only underscored how much she still had to learn.
CHAPTER 8
Erika Peters lightly scraped a path down Brad’s arm with her long purple-painted nails. “I’ve really been looking forward to our date.” Her exotic scent wafted across the lakeside table at his restaurant, mixing with the spectacular entrees in front of them in a slightly unpleasant way that made Brad’s normally stone-cast stomach lurch a little.
Perfume mixed with seared sea scallops was just off.
Olivia always smelled simpler. Like baby lotion and lemons. Tonight she’d worn a plain gray sweater and her hair had been done up in a messy bun, but she somehow managed to look sexy as hell. Erika, on the other hand, was Cosmo caliber in every way: shiny black hair in a smooth twist, smoky eyes, glossy lips. And the deep plunge of her clingy gown indicated the light was green for a night of hot sex. Lots of it.
The new expansion to the restaurant looked spectacular, even though it was still roped off. The deck was lit by twinkly white lights strung in bushes and potted plants and crisscrossed between wooden posts. Outdoor heaters chased away the slight chill and a fire burned in the new outdoor fireplace. Couples gathered round, watching a big crimson sun set quietly over the water. In the distance, jumping fish gave an occasional splash, and the scent of lilacs from the town square wafted in on a light breeze.
Just a few days ago, Brad would have considered himself damn lucky to sit across the table from such a gorgeous woman on a perfect evening like this. They’d been flirting for weeks, and tonight was the night to make things happen.
But things weren’t perfect. All he could think of was that damn baby class. Olivia had listened so carefully, even took notes. She’d been visibly upset and a bit overwhelmed.
Every instinct had compelled him to pull her into his arms and comfort her. But instead he’d fed her some malarkey about not being so independent, asking for help, doing what was best for Annabelle.
That was his intention, right? To dissuade her. Get her to think of alternatives. Capitalize on her vulnerabilities. He certainly hadn’t gone to class for her. Had he?
No. Of course he hadn’t.
Yet the thought of her going through everything alone, after all that had happened, made his stomach lurch. Every parent had a learning curve. Hers was just steep and fast and frightening, like the giant slide at the water park.
And he’d given her a shove down when she was already anxious.
He hadn’t even had to be mean. He could have pointed out that she’d had a poor role model as a mother. Or that Trish and Kevin hadn’t really thought this whole cockamamie plan out. But she’d done the self-flagellating all by herself.
And he’d stood by and watched it happen. Like the total donkey’s behind that he was.
He could see how hard she was trying, with no one nearby to encourage her. She was truly on her own. He could have rectified that, but he’d chosen to stay silent.
For the first time, Brad acknowledged with a sickening sense of fear that getting close to Olivia would only ignite those unstable feelings that bubbled below the surface in every conversation, every argument, waiting for some small catalyst to combust into an unstoppable, volatile explosion.
“I know how busy you’ve been with renovations, but I’m so glad we took time to meet tonight,” Erika said. “And I’ve got great news. Marc Daniels is coming to judge Bachelors Who Cook, and he wants to film an episode of his cooking show right here in Mirror Lake. At your restaurant. Isn’t that exciting?”
Brad jerked his head up. “Marc Daniels, the celebrity chef?” Who hosted a cooking show on Food Network, and owned several five-star restaurants in New York City. He would be a huge boon for their event, which in turn would be great for the hospital and great for his restaurant. The B and Bs, the lakefront, and the downtown would be packed.
Erika pressed her white teeth into her lower lip and smiled. “Yep. Mirror Lake is going to be on national television, and the crowds he attracts will be huge.”
She reached across the table and grasped Brad’s hands. As she leaned over, he caught an excellent view of her ample cleavage. The tiny candle in the center of the table flickered off her high-cheekboned face, drawing attention to a provocative little mole at the side of her mouth.
Traditionally, this was the time he’d go in for the kill. Stroke her lovely fingers, use a playful tug to pull her in closer, then whisper something sexy in her ear. But he wasn’t feeling it.
Thrown off his game, Brad glanced away. A moving figure at the edge of his vision caught his eye—his sister-in-law Alex, sitting down at a table about twenty feet away, near the edge of the water. With Olivia.
Olivia?
She pulled out a chair. An uncomfortable feeling settled in Brad’s stomach, and he fought a sudden urge to run over to their table and welcome them. It shocked him to realize he wanted Olivia’s first time at his restaurant to be with him, not Alex. He wanted to show her everything he’d done to it since it was little more than a greasy-spoon fried seafood chain.
“Brad? Are you all right?” Erika swept a lock of long dark hair behind her ear. She licked her bold red lips. “You seem . . . distracted.”
Brad tore his gaze off Olivia and forced himself into small talk with Erika, who smiled her megawatt smile that thrilled thousands of viewers nightly on Channel Five, but nothing happened—no tingling, no fireworks. He must be more tired than he thought.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Olivia order off the menu. One of the newest waiters took her order. Would he know to tell her a fresh shipment of crawfish had just arrived from the Gulf today and his chef’s gumbo was to die for?
He had to stop this. There was nothing he could offer her beyond some really hot sex. Their attraction would go nowhere. She was headed back to New York soon and there was no way he was going to allow her to take his heart with her—again.
But dammit, he wanted her. This was all due to the lack of sex. And his best opportunity to get some was sitting inches away.
He turned back to Erika. She waited in a posture of anticipation, eager for him to say the word. One tiny word was all it would take to trade in his frustrations for a night of pure, raw pleasure.
He stared at her beautiful face. Opened his mouth.
“I’ll be right back.” The wrong words tumbled out, but for him they were exactly right. Brad scraped back his chair and walked over to Olivia’s table, patted the waiter on his back and stepped up in his place. He had a million things to tell her, but all that came out was, “Try the gu
mbo. It’s Phillipe’s new recipe and it will knock your socks off. The angel hair shrimp is also fabulous if you like pasta.”
Olivia greeted him politely but her eyes told him she was wary. Upset.
“We just came for a quick bite,” Alex explained. “Annabelle fell asleep and Tom offered to watch her for an hour.”
Brad nodded but couldn’t capture Olivia’s gaze. “I’m glad you ladies came. Enjoy your dinner.”
He ran back to his own table. “Ready for dessert?” he asked.
Erika tossed him a scorching glance. “I thought we could have dessert at my place, if you know what I mean.”
Brad managed a half smile. The woman was offering herself up on a platter.
Erika smiled sympathetically. Her shiny purple nails tapped the glass of the table. “I can tell you have a lot on your mind, but I want you to know I’m here to help. There’s been a vibe between us for weeks now. I’m not shy about admitting it.” She reached over and covered his hand with hers.
Dammit. It was now or never. Brad looked over Erika’s shoulder. Olivia was chatting away with Alex, too far away to hear anything. Why did it matter if she did?
He was so hosed. He didn’t know why, but it did matter. She mattered.
For Annabelle’s sake. For her future. That was all.
Brad gathered up Erika’s pretty hands. “You’re right. About my being distracted. A lot has happened these few weeks and I . . . I need some time. That’s not to say you aren’t an amazing, incredible woman.”
Erika pulled away. Her laugh was soft and sultry like the rest of her. “When men start using words like amazing and incredible, you know there’s trouble. I know you’ve been through a lot. I just wanted to . . . offer you comfort.”
“I appreciate it. But I’ve got to say no.”
He finally managed a glance at Olivia’s table.
Empty.
But they hadn’t gotten past salad. Had something happened, maybe to Annabelle?
He excused himself from his ruined date and punched a number into his cell. “What happened?” he asked Alex.
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