“And you didn’t need to put up with everything you have since you met me. But you did.” He touched the flowers. “So I did.”
She continued to trace the lines of purple and gold and white in the irises. Not because they were so very gorgeous, though they were. But because if she was focused on them, she wasn’t looking at Boone.
Boone. Who was standing on the step below her. So close that they were just a dozen blooms and some paper apart. So level with her that she could look straight into his eyes above the bouquet. So near that if he were to lean the tiniest bit forward, she could catch his lips with hers and kiss him, kiss him the way she had wanted to since before he’d stepped off that plane, kiss him so close and so hard that Jamie would be a little pancake between them and they would laugh and shift and rearrange themselves and reach for each other again, filling themselves with each other. And Mr. Oliphant across the street would get the show of his life and call her mother and Kate wouldn’t care because she would be holding Boone and pressed against Boone and damn it, she had missed him and—
His eyes darkened. His lips parted.
“Kate?”
It was barely more than a movement of his lips. She heard, though. How could she not when she was leaning and he was leaning and—
Jamie let out a sigh against her ear.
Holy craparoni, what was wrong with her?
“Thank you.” Bright smile, step back, regain sanity. “You really shouldn’t have, but I’m not going to turn them down.” Back up, back away. “I’ll just go put them in water and—”
It happened so fast that her brain couldn’t keep up. One second she was chattering nervously, moving backward and trying to put distance between her and Boone. The next, a chair scraped and something cracked and the world kind of tilted and Boone was racing toward her and the flowers flew as she grabbed tight to Jamie and her foot plunged down—
And the irises hit the deck just as Boone yanked her against him.
CHAPTER SIX
BOONE WASN’T A medical professional, but living where he did meant that he’d had to pick up more than a few side skills over the years. So when he ran his hand gently over Kate’s ankle and felt the telltale swelling but no extreme tenderness over the bone, he was confident that they were dealing with a sprain but not a fracture.
“I am such an idiot,” Kate said for the umpteenth time. She lay where Boone had deposited her on the living room sofa, her ankle propped up on pillows and strategically covered by a bag of frozen peas. “How could I have forgotten about that board?”
Boone didn’t answer, and not just because she had been babbling a variation on that theme since he tucked Jamie into his crib and then returned to look after her. He had a pretty good idea why practical, focused Kate would have been hustling backward so fast that she stepped in the wrong place. She was trying to get away from him.
Looked like that whole make-things-easier-for-Kate idea had backfired big time.
And you’re surprised? Loser.
“I’m fixing it this afternoon.” Like he should have done the day after he arrived.
“No you’re not.”
It wasn’t a good idea to distress someone who was injured, so he proceeded cautiously. “You want to tell me why?”
“Because if I’m confined to the sofa, you are on Jamie duty.”
Okay. Intellectually, a part of him had known that already. That didn’t mean he’d been ready for the words.
She patted his arm as he adjusted the peas. “You can do this, Boone.”
“I hate pep talks.”
“Good, because I hate giving them to anyone over the age of four. So stop fussing over me and sit down.”
She patted the few inches of sofa at her side. He hesitated. The last time they’d sat like that, her on her back and him at her side, was for the one and only sonogram appointment he’d attended with her. He’d walked around for months remembering that moment, sweaty hands clutched tight, both of them struck silent by the image of the tiny heart fluttering on the screen.
He reached back, grabbed the oversize footstool and pulled it up to the side of the sofa. “Don’t want to bump you,” he lied.
Her eye roll was meant to convey exasperation, he knew, but he found it ridiculously reassuring.
“Listen. When Jamie wakes up, you’re going to have to change his diaper and bring him to me. It might be a good idea to bring the changing table in here so I can talk you through it. Then there’s laundry that needs to go in the dryer, and the dishwasher has to be unloaded, and...well...” She paused and smiled, though it was a little strained. “I guess you really are my lackey.”
“Oh, the hardship.”
He kept the words flip. He had to. If he didn’t, he was going to freak out at the thought of how much childcare was going to be required of him over the next couple of days.
God, if You can spare any guardian angels for a day or two, I’d be grateful.
“My mom has some crutches that I could... Wait. No. What am I thinking? If she finds out about this, she’ll move in.”
Boone couldn’t repress the instinctive shudder.
“My feelings exactly.” Kate grinned and pointed to her ankle. “Any guesses how long until I can be up and moving?”
He shook his head. “I can tell you it’s sprained, but for more than that, you need to see someone who at least plays a doctor on TV.”
“No can do. My mom’s best friend works for our family doc. If I so much as slow down going past the parking lot, Mom gets a call.”
“This small-town gossip thing is real, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say. It’s one of the big reasons I moved to Ottawa,” she said ruefully. “But even though it’s a pain sometimes, I really am glad to be back here. Most of the time, I like being in a place where I know so many people and have backup when I need it.”
His guilt must have shown in his face, because the next thing he knew, she was shaking her head vehemently. “And that doesn’t mean I want you to feel bad, okay? I made my choice and I’m glad that things worked out so it’s as easy as possible. Besides, I’m totally being the selfish one.”
“How’s that?” he asked, expecting her to say something about having Jamie all the time.
“I think the work you’re doing with the project is amazing. And I couldn’t handle the guilt if you left there because you felt like you had to be here all the time.”
He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or bothered. Not that he had much brain power left to figure it out. His thoughts were bopping between trying to remember everything he’d read about baby care and wondering if he could fix the porch without waking Jamie and sending little reminders to himself that all of this was his fault.
Of course it was your fault, said his mother’s voice. You want to tell me a time when it wasn’t?
“Kate. Listen. When we were out there...” Shit, this wasn’t easy. What was he supposed to say? “Sorry I brought you flowers”? “Sorry I messed up letting you know that you’re still important to me”? “I’m sorry I made you back up.”
There. That he could say without any dishonesty. Plus it sounded a lot better than saying, “Sorry I’m not the man you and Jamie deserve,” which was how he really felt at the moment.
She stared at her hands knotted in her lap. Pink rose in her cheeks.
“Stop.” Her words were low and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, it—”
“Boone.” She straightened, grimaced, then said very slowly, like she was trying to convey some hidden meaning, “Do not beat yourself up. I wasn’t trying to get away from you.”
It took him a second. It wasn’t until he let that slightly emphasized you sink in that he got the message. And even then, he didn’t understand it.
Did she mean she’d been trying to get away from hersel
f? But that made no sense.
Though come to think of it, hadn’t she been the one leaning toward him?
Ah, hell. He’d been so intent on honoring Kate’s request that things stay platonic that he’d never really considered she might...
He stood abruptly and grabbed the bag of peas from her ankle. “I’d better get you some fresh ice.”
* * *
WHILE BOONE SLAMMED things around in the kitchen, Kate called Allie. She told herself it was simply to see if Aunt Allie might be available to lend a hand. It had absolutely nothing to do with Kate needing to practice those deep cleansing breaths every time Boone placed his warm palm on her ankle. Or leaned over her while checking on her. Or said something that sent her flying back to that moment before she fell, before sanity reared its head, when the world had contracted to him and her and the want, want, want that had been pulsing through her.
But thirty seconds into the call, Kate knew there was no way Allie would be playing nurse. Bits and Pizzas was hosting a high school fund-raiser that night. Allie was interrupted three times before Kate made it through her greatly abbreviated explanation.
“Of course I’ll come if you really need me,” Allie said when she finally made it back to the conversation. “But Boone is there, right?”
“Right. Don’t worry about a thing. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? It’s just that Nadine is off sick, and the new girl hasn’t handled a fund-raiser before, and I really need to—”
“Allie. I’m fine.”
“Do you want me to call Mom?”
“Do you want me to hobble over there and drop-kick you into the river with my one good foot?”
Allie snickered. “You really are okay. Tell you what, I’ll send over a house special. Feed you guys and ease my guilt, all at the same time.”
Kate said goodbye and hung up before she could blurt out anything about pizza not easing the real hunger she was battling.
But as it turned out, there was no time for seduction or discussion or anything remotely resembling temptation, because when Jamie woke up it was clear that he was one unhappy bunny.
“It’s the tooth,” she said as Boone brought her the baby meds. “I can feel it right there below his gum. It’s probably going to break through tonight.”
Boone sat on the ottoman at her side and placed a cautious hand on Jamie’s back. “He feels warm.”
“Fevers happen with teething. It’s normal.”
Thank God Boone had told her about the episode with Tristan. It meant that when he pulled back at the mention of a fever, she understood.
Understood, and ached for him.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “Jamie is going to be miserable for a while, but he’s not sick. He’s not going to have a seizure.” Seeing that Boone didn’t seem reassured, she added, “And if he did, you’re not twelve years old anymore. You would know what to do this time.”
She wasn’t sure if she’d helped or not until Boone blew out a long breath, then rested his palm on Jamie’s forehead with a hesitant tenderness that had Kate smiling in pride. And relief. And gratefulness that for at least this milestone, they were together.
It seemed she could let go of those worries about Boone loving his son.
The medicine helped, bringing the fever down and making it possible for Jamie to stop howling so pitifully, but he still wasn’t his usual sunny self. The slightest upset started him whimpering again. He wasn’t interested in lying on the floor or sitting in his bouncy seat or attempting cereal. All he wanted was to be held, and nursed and cuddled.
“My mom always swore by brandy for a teething baby.” Kate rocked back and forth as best she could while keeping her ankle elevated. Boone looked shocked.
“Isn’t that bad for them?”
“It is. But as Mom said, the brandy was to give to the parent, not the baby.”
Boone nodded. “I’ll drink to that.”
True to her word, Allie had a pizza delivered complete with salad, breadsticks and cheesecake, but Kate soon found that there was a world of difference between eating around a baby when she was at the table, and eating around a fussy, squirming baby while half reclining.
“Should I feed you?” Boone asked, and Kate was horrified when she realized he wasn’t entirely joking. Her reaction must have been obvious because he stood in front of her for a moment, apparently engaging in some internal debate, then swooped in and plucked the baby from her chest.
Jamie wailed, of course. Kate scrambled to cover up.
“Are you sure—” she began, then stopped herself. Boone had voluntarily taken Jamie. She absolutely could not say anything to discourage this.
Besides, given the way Jamie was protesting full-tilt, it seemed he had decided to take that particular task on for his own.
“Hey, buddy.” Boone walked in front of the sofa, back and forth, his voice a low monotone. “I read something that said that babies like the way a guy’s voice rumbles in the chest. So I’m just gonna keep talking while we give her a chance to grab a bite. Because I worked my fingers to the bone to make this meal and it needs to be appreciated. And that’s not true, but I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say here.”
Kate looked down to hide her grin. Not that it mattered. Jamie hadn’t stopped crying, but he did seem slightly less frantic.
“Sing to him,” she suggested.
“I don’t know many songs, Jamie, but Mom thinks that it might help. What do you say? Should we give it a try? Because it’s kind of weird to walk around here, talking to someone who doesn’t understand me, even though I think maybe you’re getting the feel of this.”
“I think he is.”
“The secret is to talk really low. Gotta be a bass to make that rumble, right, buddy? Someday, when you’re all grown up, you’re going to want to impress someone. And when that happens, you just find a fussy baby and walk back and forth while you say whatever pops into your head, and people will be amazed, but you can smile and say, “Shucks, it’s nothing.” And I can’t think of anything else to say because Mommy is looking at me like I’m off my meds, so maybe I’ll give singing a try. Do you like ‘Oh! Susanna’?” And he switched to a low croon. “Oh, there, Jamie. Oh, don’t you cry for me. I flew up here to see you son, so don’t you cry for me.”
Kate was going to applaud, but stopped herself in the nick of time. Because when Boone started singing, Jamie stopped crying.
His little head bobbed back. His gaze lingered on Boone. One tiny hand lifted to pat the rough stubble.
She held her breath.
A tiny, trying-so-hard smile crept across Jamie’s mouth.
And Boone, frozen, whispered, “I love you, Jamie. Daddy loves you.”
* * *
BOONE LOST COUNT of the minutes, and the laps around the living room, and the songs he sang. His arms ached and his voice was scratchy and he didn’t care, because his son was asleep against his chest and Kate was dozing on the sofa, and if he had to walk through the night to give them both a break, he would do so. Happily. Gratefully.
If he walked enough—say, the equivalent of from Comeback Cove to Toronto—he might tire himself out enough that he would no longer be tempted by the memory of Kate leaning toward him over the flowers. Or staring at her hands when she insisted she hadn’t been trying to get away from him.
Yeah, not gonna happen.
Jamie stirred and stretched. Boone patted his back and wandered into the office, where he could walk and talk without fear of disturbing Kate.
“So here’s the plan, buddy,” he said in a low voice. “I sell my soul to the bank, or someone who needs a remote assistant. They give me money to give to your mom, so she can get this place fixed up the way she wants. She says she’s okay with moving, but I think she’s just saying that to make me feel better. What do you think?”
&
nbsp; The only answer was a yawn.
“Then you would get to stay here, too. We can put a swing in that tree out front. And maybe a sandbox in the back, huh? We can make things nice for you, and I can know that even though I’m not with you, I’m still all around you.”
As soon as he said the words he recognized their truth. He wanted to have a presence with Jamie, to leave his mark on Jamie’s world. He wanted to make this place solid and safe for Kate—no more rotted boards, not on his watch—but he also wanted to turn this into a magical place for Jamie, the kind of house that all the kids would envy.
“So when the other kids ask where your daddy is, you can tell them, well, he lives in Peru, but he made me this great tree house. And this... I don’t know. What? Some kind of hiding place. Like Harry Potter’s cupboard under the stairs, but fun.”
Jamie had stopped fussing. Maybe because, if the pain in Boone’s shoulder was any indication, Jamie was now chewing on it.
“Does that help, buddy? I hope so. It’s not like I can do a lot else for you right now.”
And wasn’t that the truth?
“See, Jamie, it’s like this. Daddy loves you. But guys like me—we don’t always make the best parents. There’s too much baggage. Too much history. Not the good kind, like what your mom has and this house has, but the bad kind. That’s what I have to offer.”
Jamie shifted and bit harder. Boone sucked in a breath.
“This parenting thing... It’s so easy to mess up. Trust me on that, okay? My mother... I don’t think she meant to do a number on me. But she was too young. Too alone.” He nuzzled the wisps of his son’s hair. “I think your mom thinks I’m staying in Peru because I don’t love you. But she’s got it wrong. Most of the time she’s dead-on right, but not this time. ’Cause the truth is, Jamie, I love you so much it scares me. And that’s why it’s better for me to be Daddy from a distance. Because I know how easy it is to mess up. I know how easy it is to do a number on a kid, even when you don’t mean to.” He closed his eyes and filled himself with Jamie’s sweet warmth. “And I’m scared to death that someday the past is gonna come roaring back, and I’ll be the one doing the hurting.”
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