"A little," she admitted, "but keeping up with an infant and a hectic work schedule will do that."
"Hmmm," he said, sounding unconvinced. In the next instant his expression changed as he yelped.
Concern brought her to her feet as she watched him rub at a spot on his shin. "What's wrong? Was it a bee? Did you get stung? Is Jeremy—?"
"Jeremy's fine," Adrian said calmly. "He just discovered the hair on my leg."
"Oh. Is that all?" she teased, relieved there hadn't been any danger. "From the sound of your scream, I thought you were mortally wounded."
"I didn't scream. I yelped," he pointed out.
"There's a difference?" she teased.
"You bet there is. Women scream. Men yelp." Jeremy grabbed at his leg again, and Adrian grabbed his little hand and kissed it. "Our son needs a new toy. Pass his bag, will you?"
Sabrina handed the drawstring tote to him and tried not to like the sound of "our son" too much. That particular pronoun implied a connection—a bond—that went beyond the two of them physically creating a baby together.
Idly, she wondered if Jeremy himself wasn't providing the healing balm they needed to truly bury the past. Time would tell.
Adrian dug inside the bag and pulled out a set of plastic rings, but Jeremy batted them away. "OK, try this." He held out a stuffed mouse and pinched its sides until it squeaked. Again, Jeremy refused his offering.
"One more time," he said as he thrust his hand back into the bag and drew out another item. "Well, well, what do you know? My toothbrush." He studied it with a furrowed brow as if trying to figure out how this particular item had become a toy, especially a toy with deep gouges in the plastic grip. "There are tooth marks on it."
They'd been caught, her secret was out! "When I was collecting your things while you were in hospital, Jeremy wanted to hold it. By the time I got it away from him, he'd left his mark. I couldn't let you see it without explaining everything, so it became his."
"And you bought me a new one."
"Yes."
Immediately, Jeremy reached for the brush and grunted. As soon as Adrian handed it over, Jeremy began gnawing on the bright blue handle.
"I think he likes the color," she said tentatively, hoping Adrian wouldn't comment on her duplicity.
Instead he smiled. "We'll have to teach him the other end belongs in his mouth."
"You're not upset?"
"About him playing with my toothbrush? No. For you not using it as an opportunity to tell me about him? I'm more disappointed than upset, but I'll get over it."
Jeremy alternated between beating the brush against his leg like a drumstick and chewing on it as if it were a teething ring. "I'm just grateful you didn't recycle it as a toilet brush," Adrian added.
"There is that possibility," she said lightly.
"So what do you do on your days off?"
"Clean the house, go to the laundromat, sew, take care of Jeremy."
"I didn't hear you mention golf."
"After the way I sliced the ball the other day, isn't it rather obvious I haven't played for a long time?" she asked wryly.
"Everyone slices the ball. I'll bet Tiger Woods does every now and then, too."
She laughed. "Somehow, I doubt it, but thanks for being so forgiving. If you must know, the benefit tournament was the first time I'd set foot on the Pinehaven course. Green fees are horrific and I don't golf enough to justify paying for membership. I'd also have to pay a babysitter, which I'm not able, er, willing to do." She hoped he hadn't noticed her slip of the tongue. It was bad enough that he knew she was having trouble making ends meet; he didn't need to know just how financially strapped she was. With information like that, it would be hard to say what a judge might decide if Adrian forced a custody issue.
"Honestly, though," she continued, "I'd rather spend my free hours with Jeremy. The hospital day care is great, but it makes his day rather long. On the other hand, working twelve-hour stretches means I usually work three days a week instead of four or five."
"Unless you fill in for someone else."
"It happens from time to time," she agreed.
His blue-eyed gaze seemed to see into her thoughts. "Hilary mentioned you tend to pick up at least one extra shift a week, sometimes two."
Surely the well-meaning nurse hadn't explained that her bills were her main reason for working those additional hours. "A lot of nurses covered for me when I was pregnant, so I reciprocate whenever I can." She raised her chin in defiance. "Jeremy doesn't suffer for it. Our hospital day care is excellent."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it is. Did I imply that he seemed deprived because he spent the day without his mother?"
"No," she said slowly, "but you'd always said…" Her voice died before she could complete her sentence.
"I always said what?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does. I want you to finish. I'd always said what?"
"That you wanted your wife to stay at home for the kids. That you didn't want a sitter to raise them."
"What's wrong with that? If I had a wife, it would be the ideal situation, but we both know life doesn't allow for many ideal situations. Who knows?" He shrugged. "She may pursue a career instead of being a stay-at-home mom, and if that's the case, I wouldn't stand in her way. As for Jeremy, if he's at the best day care possible, I'm satisfied."
Suddenly the discussion took on an ominous tone. She didn't want to think about Adrian getting married. The notion of sending her baby for another woman to love—or possibly mistreat—sent a cold shiver down her spine. But she had to know how imminent or remote the possibility was.
"Now that I know about the woman I saw you with that time," she said lightly to hide her concern, "you've been footloose for the past year. I'm sure you've dated. Did you meet a potential candidate for a wife?"
"No," he admitted as he placed Jeremy on his tummy and shifted positions. "I've been too busy with work and Clay's therapy to see anyone. Plus, I haven't been the nicest of guys, so even if I'd wanted to go out, women have steered clear of me."
"Really? I find that hard to believe. As I recall, the nurses collectively drooled over you." At the time, she could hardly believe someone so handsome and debonair who could have had his pick of available—and the not-so-available—women had chosen her. Of course, he'd eventually dropped her like a hot potato, but that was beside the point.
He smiled. "Not any more. People tend to avoid bears with sore heads."
At that moment Jeremy began to fuss, and Sabrina was grateful for the interruption. She rose and stretched out the kinks in her back. "Sounds like he's had enough of the park experience for one evening."
"Probably so."
Back at her house, Sabrina prepared Jeremy's evening snack of cereal with a dollop of strained fruit while Adrian bounced the fussy baby as they paced her tiny living room like a pair of caged tigers. "How much longer?" Adrian asked.
"It's ready now." She set the bowl on the table. "And if I remember correctly, it's your turn to feed him."
"Oh, sure," Adrian commented good-naturedly. "When he's in a grumpy mood, I get the honor."
"Hey, I'm just giving what you asked for, and that was to share the routine. Would you rather unpack and sterilize his bottles?"
He grimaced. "Pass the spoon."
So, while Adrian fed Jeremy, Sabrina took care of her tasks at the sink. As she listened to Adrian's one-sided conversation with their son and Jeremy's smacking lips, she realized how family-like this scene seemed. Mom and Dad sharing in the care of a baby. This was what she would have had from the beginning and it would be what she'd have in the years ahead if only events had transpired differently…
No, she told herself. Don't go there. The "what if" and "if only" paths only led to unfulfilled dreams and disappointment. But for a long moment she wished that she could be the recipient of Adrian's attention, that he'd come for the sole purpose to visit her and not Jeremy.
She was being ridiculous. Why would he b
other? She'd already warned him away after he'd kissed her so why would he break the rules and risk not being able to see his son?
As impossible as their circumstances were, she wanted him to break the rules.
Pathetic. She was positively pathetic. In a few short months they'd go their separate ways again and she'd be left with more recent memories to haunt her.
Much later, after Jeremy had eaten, splashed in the sink, and drunk his last bottle for the evening nestled in Sabrina's lap, and after she'd carefully laid him in his crib, Adrian hesitated at the front door.
"What do you have planned tomorrow?" he asked.
"Chores, laundry. Like I told you earlier, the usual stuff."
"Do you mind if I spend the day here?"
"Do you want to?" she asked, surprised by his request.
"Spending a few hours every day with you and Jeremy isn't an obligation," he insisted. "It's something I want to do. Provided you agree."
Part of her was thrilled by his request because in these few short days she'd gotten spoiled by having him nearby. They still had unresolved issues, but they were talking like the friends they had once been instead of sparring like enemies.
It wouldn't be wise for her to fall in love with him again because it could easily happen if he continued acting like the man she'd loved nearly two years ago.
Unwilling to say yes and hating to say no, she chose her words carefully. "Are you sure you don't want a few days to yourself in an apartment that's bigger than a postage stamp? One with more comfortable furniture than a broken-down recliner?"
"We had some good times in that recliner. Not as many as on your sofa, but enough. If I stayed in my quiet apartment, what would I do all day besides read the newspaper or watch television? The only people I know in town are those I work with, you and Jeremy, and I'd rather hang around with you two."
"I assumed you'd go back to Denver on the weekends. Back to your other life." Actually, she hadn't thought that far ahead, but her idea made sense.
"I'd planned to," he confessed, "but that was before I knew about Jeremy. As for my so-called 'other' life, it's so similar to this one, it's ridiculous. I go to work and I come home, watch the news, and eat take-out. The only difference is that I don't have any home maintenance projects or yardwork here."
For a man who liked to stay busy, she understood how stressful it would be to live a life of relative leisure. However, no matter how bored he might be, regardless of how much she'd come to enjoy his company, she needed some distance. Being in his near-constant presence was reviving her fairy-tale imagination where the prince found his Cinderella and everyone lived happily ever after. Those fantasies simply weren't going to happen.
"In any case, I need to drive back on Sunday to pick up my mail and make new arrangements with my neighbor who's watching the house. I was hoping you and Jeremy would come along."
Logically, it wasn't a wise idea to go anywhere with Adrian. In her heart, though, she wanted it more than she should. "It isn't a good idea for us to spend so much time together," she said gently.
"Are you saying I can't see Jeremy?"
"No, I just don't think we should be together every single day."
"I'm only in town for a few months, remember? I'd like to create as many memories as I can in the short time I have."
Phrased like that, she couldn't argue with or deny his request. If the situation were reversed, she'd ask for the same consideration. However, at the same time she didn't have to ask what his future plans were. He'd stated plainly he would leave at the end of his contract period.
Surprisingly enough, the idea irritated her. How could he think it would be acceptable to breeze in, make himself indispensable for a few months, then disappear?
For that reason alone she wanted to pass the weekend like all the previous ones—just her and her son. Cooperating with him might be in her future best interests, but cooperation would also come at great emotional expense. After being around him for less than a week, she didn't know if she could guard against falling for his charm again. She was in a no-win situation.
Reluctantly and against her better judgement, she consented. "OK. We'll go with you."
His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. "Great. We don't have to leave too early and we'll be back in plenty of time so we won't disrupt Jeremy's bedtime schedule. Thanks, Bree."
He stepped forward and planted a firm but swift kiss on her mouth before he withdrew. "Sorry," he said, clearly unrepentant. "Don't be angry, but I couldn't help myself."
The kiss had ended before it had really begun, but it had lasted long enough to stir those unwanted and unrealistic romantic feelings. Irritated by her weakness for a man who'd once shattered her world, she simply pretended to be exasperated by his blatant disregard for their rules. "Yeah right."
"It's true," he insisted, his eyes twinkling. "Thanks for being so understanding and generous. We're going to have a wonderful weekend. Wait and see."
Understanding and generous, hah! He should have described her as a pushover—a sucker for a sad story—but it was too late to change her mind when she'd already agreed. She only hoped she wouldn't live to regret her hasty and completely irrational decision.
CHAPTER SIX
ADRIAN bounded up the walk on Sunday morning, eager for the impending trip. He'd already phoned Clay and invited him to his house that afternoon for a surprise, and he couldn't wait to see the look on his brother's face when he discovered he was an uncle!
He knocked impatiently on Sabrina's door and heard Jeremy's muted wail. Smiling at the volume, he began to worry when she didn't answer and Jeremy didn't stop crying. Taking a chance, because Sabrina knew when he'd arrive, he tried the knob and found it unlocked. Pushing his way inside, he went straight to Jeremy's playpen where he lay kicking and screaming.
"What's wrong, big fella?" he crooned as he hoisted Jeremy into his arms. "Are you hungry, wet, or just tired of being stuck in your playpen alone?"
Jeremy sniffled and bobbed his head against Adrian's shoulder.
"Sabrina?" Adrian called.
She came out of the bathroom, still wearing a short-sleeved sleep shirt that fell to mid-thigh and revealed plenty of long leg. "You're here," she said inanely as she fingercombed her hair.
"It's ten o'clock," he pointed out. "We'd planned to leave for our trip, remember?"
She visibly winced. "We can't go."
He bounced Jeremy and frowned. "Why not?"
"I'm not able to take a trip today. I'm sorry."
Disappointment sent his upbeat spirits into a downward spiral, but he suddenly noticed the dark circles under her eyes, her abnormally pale face and shaky hands. Immediately concerned, he asked, "What's wrong?"
She heaved a sigh, almost as if she hated to admit her problem. "Migraine."
He'd forgotten she suffered from those intense headaches. "When did it start?"
"Last night, after you left. I thought it would ease if I went to bed early, but it hasn't."
He'd seen her like this before. Nothing had cut the pain except medication and rest. "Did you take your pills?"
Slowly, she headed for the kitchen and he followed, watching her gingerly grab a bag of peas from the freezer and place it just as carefully on her forehead. "Well?" he demanded.
"No."
He cursed. "Why not?"
"I don't have a prescription."
"Why don't you?"
"Because it expired and I haven't asked my doctor to write another. Even if I did, I wouldn't fill it because those pills are too expensive." She repositioned the frozen peas to cover the right side of her head. "I'll be fine in a few hours."
"You and I both know an ice pack won't do the trick," he said bluntly.
"Yes, well, ice and over-the-counter pain relievers and anti-inflammatories are all I have. They worked before and they'll work again."
"On an attack this severe? How often do you get them? Are you avoiding your triggers?"
She
held up one hand. "Turn down the volume, please."
Instantly contrite, he lowered his voice. "Sorry. How often are you getting these headaches?"
"Not often. Every couple of months."
"What can I do?"
"Nothing. I'm really sorry we can't go with you, but have fun and call us when you get back into town."
Leave her like this? When she could hardly walk, much less take care of Jeremy? His trip didn't seem important right now. "You're not in any shape to look after yourself, much less a baby."
"I can handle it," she insisted. "I've done it before and I'll do it again. Don't give us another thought."
"Sorry, Bree, but there's no way I'm leaving you to manage on your own. You can hardly stand. How are you going to lift or carry him?"
"I'll call Kate if I run into a problem."
"You already had a problem," he said flatly. "How long would Jeremy have cried in his playpen if I hadn't walked in when I did?"
"Not long," she said defensively.
"Why call Kate when I'm already here?" He tried not to feel hurt by her obvious rejection. Apparently these past few days hadn't convinced her to rely on him. How ironic to realize he'd finally tasted a dose of his own medicine.
"My trip to Denver can wait for another day. You…" he grabbed her arm as much to steady her as to lead her "…are going straight to bed."
"I can't. Too many chores."
"We did everything yesterday from laundry to grocery shopping to vacuuming," he reminded her. "I can't imagine what we left undone, but whatever it is can wait another day or two."
"Jeremy's hungry," she said.
"Then I'll feed him."
"But—"
"If you don't trust me to take care of him, then tell me how to contact Kate," he said, hoping she wouldn't.
To his great relief, she didn't. "Fine." She gave in wearily. "Go for it. But if you have a question…"
"I'll ask you," he promised.
"Emergency numbers are posted by the phone. Poison control, his pediatrician, the hospital."
He wanted to remind her of his own medical degree, then decided it was simpler and faster to listen to her spiel about where to find the teething rings, extra diapers and a spare pacifier in case the primary binky got lost—in the freezer, under the bathroom sink, and in his dresser, respectively.
His Baby Bombshell Page 10