“I’m definitely good with him.”
The immediate response made her grin as she started across the room. “Want something to drink? Ice tea? A beer? Wine?”
“Ice tea would be great. Thanks.”
She hurried to the kitchen to pour a couple glasses of the sweetened tea Britt kept in the refrigerator. As she returned with his glass, her step slowed at the sight of Dean in Joel’s leather lounge chair, rocking slightly with the baby cuddled close to his chest.
She paused in the shadow of the large archway between the foyer and the living room. His head was bent, and his brown hair tumbled across his forehead as he watched Cody’s face in peaceful slumber. One tiny hand curled tight around Dean’s index finger. From this far across the room, she could hear him humming, though she couldn’t make out the tune.
Emotion swelled in her chest. What was it about a strong, handsome man holding a teeny, tiny baby that could melt a woman’s heart in a single moment?
The tsunami of longing crashed deep inside, leaving her scrambling for stable ground.
This all started so he could use you, remember? He might be a good guy, but he is NOT your Prince Charming.
She sucked in a fortifying breath and stepped into the room, determined to keep her perspective based in reality.
Her stocking feet were silent on the hardwood floors, but a slight tremble in her hand made the ice clink against the side of the glass. Dean’s head lifted, and their gazes locked. The expression of her own longing mirrored in his brown eyes tilted her world for a breathless moment.
God help her, she’d found her feet, all right. Unfortunately, they’d landed smack-dab in the middle of a dangerous, heart-engulfing pool of quicksand.
Chapter 16
Dean set aside his crumpled napkin and shifted the sleeping baby in his arms. He winced as his muscles protested after the extended period of time in one position at the kitchen table. But recalling the relief on Gina’s face earlier when the baby’s cries had quieted was more than worth the pain.
“When does he eat next?”
She glanced at the clock as she rose to rinse their dirty dishes and stacked them next to the sink. “Britt said about nine-thirty, so pretty soon.”
He followed her gaze, surprised over an hour had passed since they sat down to eat. Their casual conversation while sipping a glass of wine had flowed so easily, time had flown by.
“Once I get his bottle ready, I can take him again,” she said. “He liked me okay for that part, at least.”
“You must have a knack for the food,” he teased. “I was certainly impressed with my dinner.”
She shrugged off the compliment. “It was just grilled sandwiches.”
“I thought the barbeque sauce was a genius touch,” he insisted as the infant in his arms began to stir.
“I copied it from a restaurant,” she admitted. “It’s not that original.”
“I don’t care, it was still good.”
While she began mixing the formula in a bottle, he looked down to see blue eyes blinking up at him. “Well, hello again, little guy.”
He played with the baby, talking in a soft voice, not one bit uncomfortable in front of her. The infant gave a toothless grin and talked back with a gurgle and a wave of his arms. He caught one of those mini hands and felt the tug in his chest when the tiny fingers latched onto his. “Good to see you in a better mood, buddy.”
The exchange continued until Gina came over with the bottle. He sat up straighter for her to take the baby, and the back of his hand accidentally brushed against her breast. With her so close for even just that brief moment, he caught a trace of her sweet, intoxicating scent, and that’s all it took to put his body back on high alert.
She headed into the living room, and he couldn’t help leaning forward to watch the subtle sway of her hips. Straightening in the chair, he took a large swallow of wine and silently admonished himself to take a step back…a giant step back.
At a crucial point in his company’s existence, he’d bailed on Mike and Liz because he wanted to see her. He’d been slacking on his work because he couldn’t stop thinking of her. He’d felt bad for not being at the house when she woke up this morning, only to return home to find her note of apology for leaving before he woke up. He’d spent the entire day teeter-tottering—reaching for his phone to call her, pulling back, then reaching again thinking he’d text instead.
In the end, he’d done neither, then said screw it, and came in person instead. Because, yeah, that was so much better.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d wanted women before, but never quite like this.
And what in the hell was that moment in the living room about?
Suddenly, this was too domesticated, too cozy. Sure, he’d always figured he’d have a family—someday. But he’d never yearned for one in a way that made his chest physically ache. Never felt like he was missing something until he sat in someone else’s house, holding someone else’s baby, while the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind cooked him a meal.
When he became aware of the elevated beat of his heart, he shoved to his feet with determination. His company and his employees depended on him, and obsessing about a woman wasn’t going to accomplish anything. He needed to put all this—her—on the back burner until he dealt with Jack once and for all and secured his future. Especially if for some unfathomable reason she was protecting the guy.
While they ate, he’d been tempted more than once to ask her about the fraud investigation Quinn had discovered, but didn’t want something he let slip to risk messing up the investigation.
He cleared the rest of the table, and then made his way into the living room to say good night. She was sitting on the couch with the baby and glanced up as he reached for his coat.
She lowered her attention back to Cody, but not before disappointment replaced her smile and twisted his gut.
Sonofabitch.
“You’re leaving?”
“I still have work to do tonight,” he said. Which was actually the truth, so there was absolutely no reason to feel bad. “Thank you again for dinner.”
“You more than earned it. Thanks for the help.” She stood with the baby while he shrugged into his coat. As she trailed him to the door with one hand balancing the bottle, she asked, “Did you give any more thought to me helping with the Jackson situation?”
He paused in the foyer as headlights flashed along the driveway. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
That earned him an instant frown. “Why not?”
Not a question he could answer adequately right now. He’d just decided on the fly, but needed time to come up with a couple good reasons to support it. “Because it’s not.”
She huffed out a breath. “But, I can—”
“Leave it, Gina, okay?” he ground out with a sudden flare of impatience. “The answer is no.”
Her mouth snapped shut, but probably only because of the truck that parked next to his SUV. The man and woman who climbed the front steps to the porch were dressed for an evening out, and he guessed who they were even before they came inside. Gina made introductions in a tone that warned their argument was far from over.
He shook Britt’s hand, then reached to shake her husband’s. The man’s firm grip made him flinch before he could control the reaction.
Joel’s gaze dropped to their clasped hands, and as they released, he lifted his gaze, speculation clear in his eyes. He shot a pointed glance toward Gina—whose attention was thankfully focused on the baby and Britt—and then turned a questioning look back to Dean.
Instinctively, he knew exactly what the man was asking. His stomach dropped as he gave a sharp, negative shake of his head. The guy gave a barely perceptible nod before stating, “You don’t have to leave on our account.”
“I was already on my way out.”
“Dean’s got work to do,” Gina stated, not bothering to conceal her resentment as she turned to stalk back toward the living room
without so much as a goodbye.
Well, there ya go, step back accomplished.
Shifting his narrowed gaze from her to the Morgans’, he unclenched his jaw to force a polite smile of goodnight, and left. Before he was halfway down the steps, he heard the door open again.
“Dean, hold up.”
He glanced back to see Joel step outside and ease the door shut behind him. He shot a glance toward the living room windows while turning to face the other man. Hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets, he leaned against the railing.
Instead of pretending he didn’t know what the guy wanted, he asked, “How’d you know?”
Joel halted at the top of the stairs. “Brittany and I made a little detour on our way to dinner only to find the job already done. Your expression when I shook your hand confirmed my suspicions.”
“Yeah, well, there’s no way in hell I could let that shit slide.”
“Obviously, I agree.”
He nodded. It was good to know Gina had friends watching her back.
“You didn’t tell her, though.”
“No. And I’m going to ask that you and your wife don’t, either.”
“Might help with whatever she’s pissed about right now.”
He gave a short bark of laughter, then shook his head. “No, that’s not going to change.”
Joel shrugged and backed toward the door. “Your call.”
“Thanks.” He turned to go.
“Hey, do you think he might be the one who broke into her office?”
Dean nodded as he looked back. “After last night, he’s my first guess.”
“You think he was just trying to scare her, or is there something more?”
While he figured out how to answer, his gaze strayed to the lit windows again. “There’s more going on between me and Jack, but I’m not sure yet exactly how it connects to her.”
“Well, if you need anything, I’m happy to help if it takes care of the useless piece of shit.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter 17
Gina fastened the tabs on Cody’s clean diaper and glanced over at the sound of hushed voices out in the hall. It almost sounded like they were arguing, but a moment later, Joel called out goodnight to her, and Britt entered the room with a smile that said all was well. Her friend’s comfortable looking lounge pants and T-shirt had her wishing for her own pajamas.
“There’s Mommy.” The infant gave an extra energetic kick as she tried to get his foot in the leg of a one-piece sleeper. As she worked to get him dressed, she asked, “How was your night out?”
Britt leaned one hip against the changing table and caught Cody’s flailing arm. He gurgled up at her and she grinned back. “Wonderful, but I’d rather hear about yours.”
That was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Too many confusing emotions she hadn’t had a chance to sort through yet. Taking the easy route, she concentrated on the end of the evening and clung to her annoyance over their final exchange. “It was fine.”
“I don’t know. I saw dishes and glasses by the sink. Dinner, wine…?”
She lifted the dressed infant to hand him over to his mother. “Baby.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Britt conceded with a laugh. She took a moment to hug him close and nuzzle his cheek before starting from the room. On her way down the stairs, she asked over her shoulder, “So…what was Dean here for if not the romance of babysitting?”
Directly behind her, Gina opened her mouth to answer, but then realized she didn’t have a clue. “You know, he never really said.”
Her friend gave her a wide grin at the bottom of the stairs. “That makes it pretty obvious.”
“Not really.”
Maybe before dinner, but he’d seemed different on the way out. Distant, almost. And then he’d practically yelled at her when all she did was repeat her offer to help.
She followed Britt into the living room. “He arrived right at the point when Cody had been crying off and on for over an hour. I couldn’t calm him down, so Dean offered to stay and help.”
“Sorry about that,” her friend said with a grimace. She sat on the floor in the living room and laid the baby on a blanket. When she handed him a toy to play with, it went right in his mouth.
“It’s okay.” Gina sat on the edge of a chair across from them. “Turns out he’s great with babies, so while he settled him down, I made us something to eat. I hope you don’t mind?”
A hand waved away her concern. “Joel’s always been able to calm him better than I can. I’ve learned to accept it and take the break. The real question is, did Dean mind?”
She shook her head, recalling the expression on his face as he rocked the little boy, and his confession about helping his mother in the children’s hospital. Her heart softened all over again. “No, not at all.”
“Okay…so…did he insult your cooking skills?”
She frowned at the odd question. “Of course not. Why?”
“Because after all his help, you didn’t even say goodbye.”
“I said thank you just before you guys pulled up,” she defended.
“But what were you so mad about?”
She sat back, arms crossed over her chest. “Last night I offered to help him with Jackson. He said he’d think about it, but suddenly tonight, he flat out said no, and got mad at me when I argued.”
“Can you blame him?”
“Yes.” She frowned at Britt’s frown. “I want to help.”
“And he doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
She wanted to argue that, too, but it was pretty much what he’d said when she’d first suggested the idea. Damn it for rationalization.
“Gina, the guy likes you. He wouldn’t have…”
She paused, and Gina’s heart tripped along as she lifted her eyebrows in silent inquiry.
Britt sighed and continued, “He wouldn’t have stayed to help with a baby that’s not his, and not yours, if he didn’t. He probably feels responsible for what Jackson did and doesn’t want it to happen again.”
* * *
She was an idiot. After Dean’s initial openness about liking her, it didn’t matter what Britt said, it was obvious he’d pulled back. Last night’s confusing emotions had been a wake-up call, and his distance was a good thing. She’d recognized from the beginning he would be dangerous to her heart, and she didn’t need—or want—the complication of getting involved right now.
So what was she doing? Being an idiot by inventing reasons to see the man again.
Well, measuring windows for curtain rods, drapes, and blinds was actually a valid reason to go to his house, but she’d taken liberties in deciding it needed to be done on a Sunday morning.
Once she was there, she planned to let him know in no uncertain terms that Jackson’s actions against her were in absolutely no way his fault. Then she was going to argue her case about helping him catch the jerk until he gave in.
It was eight-thirty when she parked in her usual spot in front of the house. Two minutes later, feeling like she was acting out a replay of the other night, she rang the doorbell a third time and held it down. She released the glowing little button at the muffled thump of footsteps on the stairs.
Like the other night, he jerked open the door. That’s where the similarities ended.
One glance and guilt twinged for having obviously woke him up. His hair was a mess, dark stubble covered his jaw, a T-shirt was fisted in his hand, and his jeans were zipped but not buttoned. At this point, the bare feet were a given.
“It’s Sunday,” he ground out, his voice rough and gravelly, and not the least bit welcoming. His arm rose and he raked his fingers through his hair, stretching the skin across the solid muscles of his chest and stomach.
“I, uh, wanted to, um, I need to do some measuring.” His deepening frown had caused her to stumble over her explanation, and then she blushed when she heard her own words.
Keep your eyes on his face. Do not look down. But
with that bare chest in front of her, how could she not? A body like that on a software developer who spent hours in front of a computer defied all logic.
“Couldn’t wait until Monday?”
“No.” She lifted her gaze back to his, determined to not be put off by his attitude. She offered an over-sweet smile. “I promise I won’t bother you.”
His gaze raked down the length of her. Halfway back up, he let lose a low growl and spun away, leaving the entrance wide open. “You already have.”
Her smile turned genuine. Enough heat had flared in those brown eyes to keep her from being offended. She stepped inside and reached for the door. “Why so grumpy?”
“I went to bed about five a.m., Gina. Figure it out.”
Okay, so he was tired. She hadn’t slept the greatest either, but you didn’t see her biting people’s heads off.
As she stepped forward to gently close the door, she paused and stared outside. “Um, Dean? There’s a police car coming down the driveway.”
“What?” he bellowed from the direction of the kitchen.
“I said there’s—”
“I heard you,” he snapped as long strides brought him back. His arm reached above her head to pull the door open wider even as his front brushed up against her back. “Sonofabitch.”
“You say that a lot,” she commented, completely aware of the heat of his lean body so close to her.
“I think it even more,” he retorted. As the patrol car came to a stop behind her vehicle, he added, “Just go do what you came to do. I’ll take care of this.”
She backed up, bumped into him, and then stopped.
“Gina, I said go.”
She could literally hear his teeth were clenched, but she didn’t care as she noticed who was exiting the vehicle. “Those are the same cops who were at my office.” She glanced up at him, absently noting he’d pulled his shirt on. “How did they know I was here?”
He didn’t answer as the two officers walked to the door.
“Mr. Daley, Ms. Allen,” the female said. “Good morning.”
Dean remained silent, so Gina replied, “Good morning. Officer Nilsen, right?”
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