But he was who he was, and life was what it was. And if he had to be an idiot over something, well, there were far worse things than the feel of Kate’s hand in his.
Like the almost-visible clouds of steam coming off her head.
“I can’t believe that she...argh!” Kate shook her hand loose, much to his dismay, and jerked at the zippers on the front of Jamie’s pack. “There are times when I could cheerfully toss my mother in the river.”
“I don’t have a lot of experience, but I think your mom was just doing what good mothers are supposed to do. You know.” He grinned at her and thought of every TV mom he’d ever seen. “Defend her kid.”
“I know. I get that. And honestly, truthfully, I know it’s because she loves me and wants the best for me and Allie and Jamie, and that she wants me to have an easier life than she had. But still.” She tugged at the second zipper. “She refuses to believe that there’s a world of difference between her situation and mine, and... Damn, why isn’t this thing unfastening?”
Boone squinted at the offending zipper, then bent for a closer look. “I think there’s a piece of cloth caught in it. Let me...” He reached forward gingerly. Jamie was such a squirmer that Boone wasn’t sure he could fix this without making it worse.
Which was kind of the story of his life, but right now he needed focus, not a trip down memory lane.
He held his breath and pulled at the fabric. “Yeah, that’s the problem. The pant leg got caught. Give me a second...” He worked the zipper while pulling gently on the gray corduroy. “Here we go...almost got it...”
The zipper gave way. The hand holding the fabric jerked up. And for one moment, his fingers slid off the pack and onto a part of Kate’s anatomy where they had no business going anymore.
He wasn’t sure which one of them stepped back first. Maybe they did it together. All he knew was that her cheeks were red and her eyes were wide and his hand was a lot happier than it had been in almost a year.
“Well. Thank you.” She sounded more than a little flustered, which made two of them. “So. Right. I’m sorry about Mom.” She lifted Jamie out of the pack and headed through the kitchen into the office.
Kate continued speaking as she set Jamie on the changing table. “I would tell you that you don’t have to join us, but she would probably drive over here and drag you there by the ear.”
“So you’re saying I should just resign myself to a night of misery?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“What did you mean when you said that your situation is different from hers?”
“Oh. Well.” Kate reached for a fresh diaper and flipped open the box of wipes, all while keeping one hand on a squirming tummy. Once again, Boone marveled at the way she handled everything so easily. So...gracefully. “I told you that my biological father was never in the picture, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, I didn’t tell you the whole story. All Mom ever said when I was growing up was that my bio father was a summer guy, and that she didn’t know how to get hold of him when she found out she was pregnant. It was one of those things you just accept, right? Because why wouldn’t your mother tell you the truth about something as basic as your father?”
Having grown up knowing that anything his mother said was more likely a lie than the truth, Boone stayed silent.
“But after Neil—my stepfather—after he died, I started to think more about it. I was almost thirteen then, and I knew things weren’t adding up. So I started bugging her.” She shot him a quick grin that had him remembering a whole lot of mischief. “Let me tell you, Mom had cause to regret all those lectures about standing my ground and never letting up when I wanted something.”
Oh, to have been a fly on that wall.
“She finally caved and told me a little bit about him. Not much. Just his name, and that his parents had absolutely not approved of her. It was the classic story—rich boy getting ready to go to university, not-rich girl who spent her summers cleaning rooms at her parents’ motel, a hot and heavy summer romance. She didn’t find out she was pregnant until he was gone.” Kate’s voice faltered. “And then, she said, she spent a couple of months in denial, hoping that...that something would happen so she wouldn’t have to make any decisions.”
Boone spared a moment of sympathy for the scared kid Maggie must have been.
“Anyway, the whole romance had been such a secret that Nana and Poppy didn’t know about it. Well, she said they had suspicions, but nothing definite. And by the time she knew she had to tell them, Mom had made up her mind that she wasn’t going to let anyone know the truth. My father’s family lived near Windsor. He was going to school in London.”
“Which London?”
“The Ontario one.” Kate dropped wipes into the trash. “Mom said she knew that if she named him, she could get child support, but she would also have to share me. And, her being the stubborn type—”
Boone coughed.
“Quiet. She said she didn’t want me spending extended periods of time with any of them. She thought he was the only decent one in the whole family.” She lifted Jamie and nuzzled his stomach, then nodded toward the rocking chair in front of the fireplace. “Sit. You’re going to hold him again.”
He noticed she didn’t bother asking.
He also noticed that she had chosen a well-padded place for him to try again. Definitely a woman who knew how to adapt to her audience.
He lowered himself into the chair and waited. Kate came close and burst out laughing.
“You look like you’re waiting for me to draw blood or something!”
“That good, eh?” Maybe if he distracted himself, kept her talking, it would get him through this. Not so distracted that he wouldn’t be able to keep his focus on what he was doing. Just enough to take the edge off his nerves.
He breathed in, held out his hands and waited. “So, what happened?”
“What happened when?” She lowered Jamie onto his lap. Boone held his breath and slowly closed his hands around his son’s warmth. For a second he couldn’t think of anything but the placement of his hands and the distance to the floor and the odds of Kate staying precisely where she was, crouching in front of him.
Purely because he wanted her there to catch Jamie if anything happened, of course.
Talk, Boone. You can do this.
“What, uh, happened with your father?” Boone risked a fast glance toward Kate. Her face could have been carved from stone. Because of him holding Jamie? Or because...
“Nothing.”
The part of Boone that wasn’t actively trying to slow his heart rate and relax into the feel of Jamie on his lap was pretty sure Kate was hiding something.
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“That’s it.” She shrugged. “Mom gave me his name. I tracked him down.”
“And?” Jamie’s eyes were getting big. Boone was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sign.
“And, he had his lawyer send my mother a check.”
Boone’s hands tightened around Jamie. “That was it?”
“Not quite.” She took a small step back, straightened, clasped her hands in front of her. “There were also instructions. If Mom and I refrained from any further contact with him, there would be another check on my eighteenth birthday, for double the child support he should have been paying all these years. If we didn’t stay quiet, the lawyers would make sure Mom would have to jump through a boatload of legal hoops to get more. They promised it would end up costing far more than she could ever get out of him.”
“They thought she was just—”
“After his money. Right.” Her mouth twisted. “It seemed he was getting ready to run for office and he didn’t want an illegitimate child upending all his plans.”
Boone stared down at the whorls of Jamie’s hair. It was so fine. So perfect. Had Kat
e’s been like that?
“So he wanted nothing to do with you.”
“Not a thing.” Again she shrugged, not that he believed her casual air. “Apparently he’d grown up to be just as awful as his parents after all.”
Home, family. Whish. Thrown to the wind.
Much as he hated to admit it, Boone was starting to understand Maggie’s antipathy toward him.
Jamie whimpered. Boone looked to Kate.
“I think he needs you again.”
“He’s okay,” she replied, but there was no denying the relief that rushed through Boone when she took Jamie back. Relief, but also an undeniable feeling of loss.
According to Boone’s mother, his father had no idea he existed. That was bad enough. But for Kate’s father to have made it clear she wasn’t worth anything more than a check?
“No wonder your mother thinks I’m the scum of the earth.”
“She doesn’t think that.” Kate bit her lip. “At least, not precisely.”
“I’ll have to knock myself out to prove that I’m one of the good guys.”
“Oh, please. Change my mother’s mind? We’re talking Jedi master level accomplishment.”
He laughed along with her, because she was right. But he had to try. Not that he cared what Maggie thought of him, but he could see it bothered Kate. She shouldn’t have to spend her days defending him to her mother.
He needed to find a way to prove to Maggie that he was nothing like Kate’s father. That even though he might not be a traditional kind of dad, he did love his son. And Kate had not made the worst mistake of her life when she hooked up with him.
As he remembered Maggie’s comments about wanting to keep the house in the family...and the longing in Kate’s voice when she said it wasn’t practical...he got a pretty good idea about how he could pull it off.
CHAPTER FOUR
AFTER A LONG and exhausting day planning repairs, guiding Jamie toward Boone and revealing way too much about her past, Kate was more than ready for bed once Jamie was down for the night. She grabbed a book about restoring older homes, climbed under the covers, and fell asleep reading about crown molding. At least, she thought that was the part where she passed out, given that she had a wild dream in which Boone was really Prince Harry, but she was the only one who saw it.
She woke up to the sound of snuffles right before she was going to meet the Queen.
“Damn it,” she grumbled as she hauled Jamie’s sleep-warm body close and crawled back into bed. “All that practice curtseying for nothing.”
With the morning well and truly begun, she made her plan. Feed Jamie. Get him changed and dressed. Hop into the shower and... Ooh. Did she dare leave Boone in charge of the baby while she had a shower?
“I think you could handle it,” she said to the tiny head working so studiously. “But your dad might pass out.”
As if he agreed, Jamie ceased gulping to gaze up at her, swat her chin with his palm, and gurgle something that sounded like uh-huh. Kate burst out laughing and cuddled him closer, tickling his tummy with her hair until he giggled.
Boone should be here.
The thought hit her fast and hard, making her hands shake as she went through the pat, burp, resettle routine. What would it be like to have Boone in the bed right now? To lean against his bare chest and laugh softly together over their son’s antics...to look up and back for a quick kiss...to have him reach around her so they were all wrapped together in one embrace...
No. She couldn’t let herself think that way. Not when she knew it was nothing but an exercise in self-torture.
“I know he had a crappy childhood,” she whispered to Jamie. “But you would think that would make him want all the family he could get, not the other way around.”
Though she knew that wasn’t always true. Boone didn’t like to talk about his childhood, but the parts he did let slip set a whole armada of red flags flying in her educator’s brain. She knew the kinds of lingering effects a childhood such as his could have on future relationships. Given his insistence right from the start that he wasn’t a family guy, she had a pretty strong hunch that those long-ago traumas still had their claws sunk into him.
“I want him in your life, Jamiekins. I want you to know that you have an awesome and amazing dad who is making the world a better place for a lot of people.” Her voice dropped. “But I want you to have brothers and sisters, too. And I don’t want to be alone all my life.”
She’d hidden behind house repairs and getting reacquainted for two days. It was time to talk about the divorce.
* * *
BOONE HAD SET his alarm for five thirty, hoping that would give him enough lead time to jump in the shower and have the coffee going for Kate when she got up. But he woke on his own a few minutes after four, jerked out of sleep by the need to escape a bad dream. He couldn’t remember the details. There had been slamming doors and a child crying and a sense of deep loss that still clung to him. And cold. So, so cold.
He pulled the quilt higher, paying careful attention to the soft rub of the flannel sheets against his skin, the slightly floral scent of the fabric softener, the comforting weight of the blankets over his body. Tiny details. All those things that tied him to the moment.
What’s done is done. What’s ahead is unknown. But right now, you’re fine.
He distracted himself by carefully examining the decision he’d made the previous day, the one he didn’t dare reveal to Kate until he was certain he could pull it off. Logic said it was impossible. But if there was one thing he’d learned after years of writing grants for a cash-strapped nonprofit, it was that when it came to finances, logic didn’t always have the last word.
Kate wanted to stay in this house. She was putting a good face on the need to repair and sell, but he knew her. She was all about history and tradition and family.
Family.
He sent a mental scowl toward the bastard who had fathered her. To be rejected like that, sight unseen, would have been a killer for any kid. For Kate, who had just lost the only father she’d known, who had grown up steeped in family history, it must have been devastating.
He couldn’t make up for that. But he could damned well find a way to keep her in this house where her grandmother had lived and died, to get it fixed up to the point that she wouldn’t have to worry about falling through the frickin’ floor every time she crossed the porch.
He was going to need a second job. Or a loan.
Or, probably, both.
He had no idea how to make that happen. But if nothing else, mentally calculating interest rates and updating his résumé made it possible for him to fall asleep again.
Which was good—except he slept through the alarm.
Which was also good—until he woke up and heard Kate singing.
“Que huevon,” he said as he threw back the covers. Yeah. He definitely wasn’t acclimated if he was still relying on Peruvian slang to call himself a lazy ass.
Half an hour later, showered and dressed, he made it downstairs only to find Kate eating toast at the computer. Jamie lay tummy-down on a blanket by her side, staring at the stuffed alpaca Boone had brought for him. Jamie made a sound, and Kate stretched out one enticingly bare foot and tapped his back with her toes.
“Coffee’s ready,” she sang out without looking up.
“All this and coffee, too?” Boone let out a low whistle. “God, you’re amazing.”
He knew he shouldn’t have said it as soon as the words slipped out. It was the kind of thing he would have said last year.
Did he still mean it? More than ever. But now he couldn’t think of a single way it could sound anything but wrong.
Kate stopped chewing for a second, stopped tapping on the keyboard.
Then, with a deep breath, she turned to him with a smile.
“Yep, that’s me. Kate Heb
ert, semisingle mom, day care director, able to push those buttons and start that coffee like nobody’s business.”
Retreat seemed the best option.
He took his time doctoring his cup, giving them both a few minutes to find their equilibrium before he tried again, sitting in the rocking chair and focusing on Jamie.
“Morning, squirt.”
Jaime squealed and waved his arms in a swimming motion. Boone risked a glance at Kate.
“Is this how Michael Phelps started?”
“That, I can’t answer. But it’s good that he’s doing that. It helps with his bilateral coordination. Also, God help me, it’s a precursor to crawling.”
“Of course. I knew that.” He bent down and mock whispered in Jamie’s direction. “Here’s a hint, kid. Don’t give your mother an opening before you’re really awake.”
Kate huffed and hit the keyboard a bit harder.
“Do you need the car this morning? I should run to the hardware store.” And the bank, but he wasn’t going to mention that.
“Be my guest.” She leaned closer to the computer monitor, peering so intently that Boone wondered if the prime minister had been photographed shirtless in public again. “I need some things, too. You can be my lackey.”
He mock bowed in his chair. “Your wish is my command.”
Too late, he remembered another time he had said that. In a very different location. With a lot fewer clothes.
Would he ever learn?
“Here.” She grabbed a paper from the printer, made a couple of marks on it with a pen, then handed the printout to him. “You’re going to need this. Not today, but, soon. Ish.”
He read over the list of names and addresses, first in confusion, then with the sense of inevitability he hadn’t felt since he was a kid.
“Divorce lawyers?” It shouldn’t have been so hard to ask. He’d known this was coming. Hell, he had been the one who’d followed “You know, we could get married” with an almost-immediate “Temporarily, of course.”
First Came Baby Page 5