Bosom Buddies

by Holly Jacobs

  ALSO BY HOLLY JACOBS

  Just One Thing

  Christmas in Cupid Falls

  Found and Lost

  The House on Briar Hill Road

  Same Time Next Summer

  Confessions of a Party Crasher

  The 100-Year Itch

  Bosom Buddies

  Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes

  Maid in LA Mystery Series

  Steamed

  Dusted

  Spruced Up

  Swept Up

  Everything But . . . Series

  Everything But a Groom

  Everything But a Bride

  Everything But a Wedding

  Everything But a Christmas Eve

  Everything But a Mother

  Everything But a Dog

  WLVH Series

  Pickup Lines

  Lovehandles

  Night Calls

  Laugh Lines

  Nothing But Short Story Series

  Nothing But Love

  Nothing But Heart

  Nothing But Luck

  Whedon Series

  Unexpected Gifts

  A One-of-a-Kind Family

  Homecoming Day

  A Father’s Name

  Valley Ridge Series

  You Are Invited: A Valley Ridge Wedding

  April Showers: A Valley Ridge Wedding

  A Walk Down the Aisle: A Valley Ridge Wedding

  A Valley Ridge Christmas

  American Dads

  Once Upon a Thanksgiving

  Once Upon a Christmas

  Once Upon a Valentine’s

  Perry Square Series

  Do You Hear What I Hear?

  A Day Late and a Bride Short

  Dad Today, Groom Tomorrow

  Be My Baby

  Once Upon a Princess

  Once Upon a Prince

  Once Upon a King

  Here With Me

  Wedding Mishaps

  How to Catch a Groom

  How to Hunt a Husband

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2015 Holly Jacobs

  Originally published in 2000 as Baby, It’s You

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503905429

  Cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa

  For all the La Leche League Leaders whose caring spirit encompass not just their families, but also any mother and baby who need their help. And especially for the leaders here in Erie who helped shape my mothering and taught me so many valuable lessons—Judy, Donna, Robin, Margaret, Mary, Kim, and the two Barbs.

  CONTENTS

  START READING

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  August 2015

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to A Holly Jacobs Classic Romance. I added that tagline so readers understand that this is the reissue of an older book.

  Bosom Buddies was originally published as Baby, It’s You by Kensington’s Precious Gems in 2000. For this e-book reissue, I went back to my working title because . . . well, I loved it then and still love it now.

  Going back and reading my earliest works has been interesting. It’s been a decade and a half since I finished this book, and I’ve written fifty more since then. As I read through it, I couldn’t help but think about how I’d change the story if I wrote it today. I can see so much of the writer I am now in it—the humor, the sense of family, and my writing voice in it.

  I told these first stories with more enthusiasm than know-how, but as I reread Bosom Buddies, I laughed out loud more than once, and I fell in love all over again with Allie and Ian.

  This book’s opening scene was inspired by my work with La Leche League. They’re a nonprofit mother-to-mother organization that helps new moms with breastfeeding. I worked with them years ago, and the women I met through LLL helped to inspire this story.

  There are so many real-life inspirations in all my books. It’s fun to see that even back then, my real life bumped into my fictional one on a regular basis.

  I hope you enjoy Bosom Buddies, and as you read it, I hope you can see glimmers of the writer I’ve become (am becoming) in the writer I was then.

  Holly

  CHAPTER ONE

  Allie McGraw knocked on the door.

  “What?” a voice barked as the door swung open.

  Allie almost jumped as her upstairs neighbor’s face appeared.

  Her focus shifted from the face to the rest of the neighbor, standing like an ancient warrior ready to do battle.

  Allie momentarily lost all words. He was breathtaking.

  She could hear the wailing that had caused her to come upstairs, but she couldn’t see the wailer. “Uh . . . well, I’m Alexandra McGraw, from downstairs,” she finally managed.

  “I know who you are, I just want to know what you want.” He glanced over his shoulder. “As you can tell, it’s not the best time.”

  “That’s why I came up. I mean, I heard . . .”

  “The screaming? The crying? The uncontrollable sobbing?” he asked.

  Under other circumstances, she might have been insulted by his sarcastic tone, but the dark circles under his brownish eyes and his haggard appearance wouldn’t allow it, so Allie nodded and said, “Yes.”

  Ian Ryan, her normally prim and proper upstairs neighbor, was looking decidedly disheveled. His brown-with-a-touch-of-auburn hair, usually so neatly combed, zigged and zagged every which way. His nicely tailored suit had been replaced with a pair of gray sweatpants that had seen better days and a stain-splattered T-shirt. Somehow he looked all the more attractive because of it.

  Focus, Allie, she warned herself and asked him, “I wondered if there was a problem and if I could help?”

  He just glared at her. “I’m used to doing things on my own. I’m sure with enough time I’ll find the proper . . .”

  The muted wailing escalated and became a shriek. Ian bounded from the door toward the noise, and Allie followed right on his heels.

  On the couch, trapped by two pillows, was the source of the noise. Dressed in pink, so her gender was obvious, was a baby—a very unhappy baby. Ian picked her up, much like someone would pick up a football that had been left on the field, and held her awkwardly to his shoulder.

  It did little to halt her protests.

  Allie watched, torn for a moment by indecision. But the pitiful wail made up her mind for her. “Here, let me have a try,” she said, gently taking the infant from Ian before he could protest.

  “Now, what’s all this noise?” she whispered as she plopped the baby on her shoulder and patted her back. Allie’s fingers snaked through the romper’s legs and checked the diaper. Dry. “When’s the last time she at
e?”

  Ian flopped onto the couch and shook his head. Gone was the warrior looking for a battle, and in his place was a warrior ready to admit defeat. “That’s the problem. She won’t. I’ve tried every kind of nipple there is on her bottles. The pharmacy delivered them. I’ve called her pediatrician, who just told me give it time, she’d eat when she was hungry.” A muscle in his cheek jumped. “Well, she is hungry, but she won’t drink from any of the bottles here.”

  “Where’s her mom?” Allie asked.

  “In the hospital. A drunk driver. I . . . well, the baby’s my responsibility until Anne can take over again.”

  Rarely at a loss for words, but finding herself suffering from it a second time in the course of one conversation, Allie hesitated a moment before she figured out what to say. “I’m sorry. I hope she’ll be okay.”

  She wanted to say more but made a habit of not prying, so she left it at that. The baby’s screams had quieted to a mewling whine punctuated by tiny hiccups. Allie returned to the business at hand. “What did Anne feed her?”

  “She breastfed, no bottles or solids yet. That’s why I’m having all these problems. She hates the bottle.”

  “Smart girl,” Allie whispered to the baby. To Ian she said, “She knows what’s good.”

  “Her knowing what’s good isn’t going to help me. Her realizing she’s going to have to settle for second best is.”

  What might have sounded like exasperation or annoyance moments ago was really only worry, Allie realized. She smiled. “Well, I have an idea. Why don’t you grab the formula and come down to my place for a minute?”

  The baby kept up her protests as they walked down to Allie’s apartment.

  Allie had seen the look of relief that had passed over Ian’s face when he’d grabbed the formula. She had a feeling she’d seen more of Ian Ryan’s true nature in just one morning than most people did after knowing him for years.

  In the three months since she’d moved in, he’d only had a passing nod for her after their brief introduction. Oh, he stomped on the floor if her music got too loud, but he didn’t make a federal case of it. Not the most friendly soul she’d ever met but not mean and nasty either. But Allie had a feeling he would have befriended the devil right then to find a way to quiet the baby.

  “What’s her name?” she asked as they approached her apartment. There was a lull in the baby’s squalling that allowed further conversation.

  “Ryane with an E at the end. Anne always said she was going to name the baby after me, but when it turned out to be a girl, she didn’t think Ian was such a good idea.” Allie turned around and caught the ghost of a smile on Ian’s face as he remembered a happier time. “Ryane was her compromise. It combines Anne’s first name and my last name.”

  It was the longest string of words Allie had ever heard Ian put together. “Well, Ryane with an E, we’re going to get you fixed up real quick,” she promised the baby as she opened her door.

  Allie felt a twinge of embarrassment as she looked around the apartment. After being in Ian’s pristine quarters, she was sure hers didn’t impress him. Loud colors, piles of this and that, and her books all over. She had plans, but she’d been too busy to implement them. New jobs didn’t allow much free time, and free time was what she needed to finish settling into her new home. Right now her life was organized chaos and so was her apartment.

  She glanced at Ian’s face. She’d been right. He wasn’t impressed at all. Well, she’d be darned if she were going to explain. She was doing him the favor and didn’t owe him an explanation or an apology for the mess.

  “I know it’s here somewhere,” she mused, looking at the pile of stuff on the dining room table. “I brought a new one home to check . . .”

  She tried to hand Ian the baby, but he shook his head. “You keep holding her. She hasn’t been that settled since, well, it’s been a while.” He eyed the table and looked at Allie. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll try to find it?”

  “An SNS.” She sometimes forgot that other people didn’t share her expertise. Ian’s look of confusion served as a reminder. “It’s a supplemental nursing system put out by Medela. A sort of bottle with tubing instead of a nipple. Moms hook the tubes next to their nipples and the baby gets the supplement while they nurse . . .” She stopped as Ian’s face turned a brilliant shade of red.

  “I know I’m desperate, but I don’t think I’m quite that desperate,” he stuttered.

  Realizing he’d misunderstood, Allie burst into laughter, which startled the baby and set her to fussing again, though more halfheartedly than before.

  “I’m sorry,” she crooned as she patted the baby’s back. Her smile remained. The mental picture of the prim and proper Ian Ryan, SNS taped by his nipples and nursing a baby, was more than ludicrous, it was hilarious.

  “I think we can find an alternative to that,” she choked out and began to search again.

  She finally found her tote under a couple dozen plastic shopping bags. “Aha,” she crowed triumphantly.

  Ian looked skeptically at the tubing and plastic bottle in a plastic bag. “That’s going to help?” he asked.

  Allie just nodded. “You’re going to have to hold Her Royal Majesty for a few minutes, but I think we have our solution.”

  Gently she handed Ryane over to Ian and grabbed the formula he’d brought down and the SNS, and then scurried into the kitchen. “Just kick some of the junk off the couch and have a seat,” she hollered over her shoulder as she worked.

  Ian looked at the couch. Clothes on hangers, off hangers, folded, and heaped covered it. “You’re sure?” he called, not wanting to throw clean clothes on the floor.

  “Nothing there I can’t pick up later.”

  He listened as she started to hum while she worked. Careful of Ryane, he pushed a pile that looked like it might have been dirty anyway onto the floor and sank gratefully onto the couch. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so tired. The call yesterday morning from the hospital had caused him to drop everything. He’d listened as the doctors talked of pins and plates and wires. He’d signed the papers they’d pushed at him. He’d sat by Anne, held her hand, and tried to calm her when she finally woke up.

  “The baby?” she’d whispered.

  “We weren’t sure where you’d left her, but I’m sure she’s fine.” His heart didn’t hold all that much dear, but Anne was at its core, and seeing her like this was breaking it.

  Even though groggy from injuries and pain medication, there was panic in her eyes. “The neighbor, Mrs. Gruder. She’ll be frantic.”

  “Hey, I was frantic,” he joked, but it wasn’t a joke. If he’d lost Anne, he didn’t know what he’d have done. “I’ll call her.”

  “Go get Ryane. Mrs. Gruder’s too old to take care of her for any length of time,” she’d commanded. Even broken and battered, Anne managed to take control.

  “You need me,” he’d argued.

  “Ryane needs you more. Please?”

  There were many things Ian Ryan had done over the years, but denying Anne wasn’t one of them. “Sure, honey, if that will make you rest easier.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes were starting to close.

  “Listen, I’ll go get her and find someone to watch—”

  “No,” she pushed herself up and yelled. That one burst apparently exhausted her, and she sank back against the pillow. “Please,” she whispered. “I’d rather you were with her. I can’t leave her with a stranger. You remember how that felt?”

  “She’s too little to notice,” Ian assured her.

  “No. Please, Ian?”

  He’d simply nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Ryane comes first,” she said.

  “Ryane and you come first in my life. I’ll find someway to juggle it.” And he would, he assured himself as he let his head fa
ll against the back of Allie’s couch.

  Ryane was calm, but he continued to gently pat her back the way Anne would have. “Your mama will be just fine,” he’d promised the baby. His eyes closed and he let them. He’d take care of everything.

  “Here we go,” Allie said as she came back into the room. “I think this will work.” Her words trailed off as she realized she was talking to just Ryane.

  “You wore him out, didn’t you, sweetheart?” she asked as she gently lifted the baby from the sleeping Ian’s arms. She retreated to the chair, leaving Ian dozing awkwardly on the couch.

  The tubing of the SNS taped to her finger, Allie gently teased the baby with it. The baby fretted for a minute, but Allie didn’t let it worry her. She just kept crooning encouragements until Ryane latched on and began greedily nursing. Allie sighed with relief.

  No matter how confident she’d tried to sound, she hadn’t been sure this would work, but as the baby slurped noisily at the SNS, Allie knew they’d crossed a hurdle. Sometimes babies who were nipple confused could be coaxed to feed this way. She was hoping it would work for Ryane. So much of her job was trial and error. What worked for one baby didn’t work for the next.

  When she’d moved to Erie, Pennsylvania, and taken the job on the maternity floor at the hospital, they’d promised her they’d let her implement new breastfeeding programs. So many mothers quit nursing because they didn’t have the right information or adequate support. Allie, in addition to dealing with the normal jobs of a maternity nurse, was going to work hard at training the staff and improving their classes for expectant mothers.

  It was exciting and her superiors were supportive of her ideas. At her previous job, they had been a little backward, and Allie had to fight tooth and nail for each step forward. Here in Erie, they were not just encouraging, but they found her idea exciting. Allie loved what she did and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. There was nothing like helping a new mother and child get off to a good start.

  “You’re doing just fine, sugar,” she crooned to the tiny baby.

  She looked at the man snoring on her couch. Sleep softened his features. He really was a very good-looking man, better looking in his sweats than in his suits, at least in Allie’s opinion. But then she’d never been overly fond of suits and had grown less and less fond of them with the passage of time. Too many bad experiences.