Jules grimaced. This was supposed to be the fun, get-to-know-you portion of the evening, but she’d already stuck her foot in her mouth. “Sorry. I mean, about your mom. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine. You wouldn’t have known. Unless you freakishly follow my family in the papers or something.”
Jules laughed again, running her fingers up and down the baby’s legs. “No stalker here. Just your regular old contracted event planner.” Besides, she would have been lost if she’d known about Mitch Denton years ago. He was the type of man you fell for and never came back from. A game-changing crush. The type of boy she could have fallen for in high school and never forgotten about.
“Regular.” He wore a strange smile as he brushed past her. “Right. Let me show you where you can stay tonight, and then I say we settle in for the storm.”
“Settle in?” She wrapped the blanket around the baby again and scooped her up into her arms. “Does that mean room service and a hot tub?”
Mitch looked over his shoulder at her, a smile so slick that her core tightened. “If you want it to, absolutely.”
6
Mitch sat in the living room, the baby in his arms, while Jules freshened up in the guest suite. The whole situation still seemed surreal to him—bombshell house guest, tiny defenseless baby without any parents, and now the storm. The world beyond those thick glass planes overlooking the city had turned into a white sheet just in the short amount of time Jules had been in her room.
When she came back out to the living room, she gasped.
“Holy shit!” Her gaze was fastened on the falling snow, but Mitch’s gaze slid to that delectable curve beneath her skirt. He wet his bottom lip, unable to stop his thoughts from turning south.
“So the forecasts were right,” she concluded, heading over to the couch. As she sank back into the cushions, he remembered they were probably in for the rest of the evening and night. Which meant she had no clothes to speak of.
“Since you’re trapped here, I can lend you clothes,” he offered, yanking his gaze off the line where her black pants met the buttons of her shirt. The longer he watched her, the more he wondered what he might find underneath those sharp clothes. “Something to sleep in. Whatever you need.”
“Can I get a Denton onesie too?” she joked, nodding toward the baby. They’d dressed her in the Denton Hotel onesie with a small pair of sweatpants to match and some oversized socks they’d found in the box of baby things. “After my unexpected stay here, I can rep the brand with confidence now.”
Mitch laughed, enjoying the scent of her amber-laced perfume that drifted his way as she relaxed nearby. He watched the baby for a few more moments. She’d drifted off to sleep again after he’d given her a bottle, which felt like a small victory. He could handle the baby thing, sort of. As long as Jules was here, at least.
“What do you think her name is?” he asked.
Jules tutted. “I wish her mom or dad had left that little detail on the note. Maybe we should name her.”
Mitch nodded. “That’s a good idea. We can’t just keep calling her ‘girl’ or ‘baby.’”
“Right.” Jules fell silent and nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “The note said that she wanted her to have a better Christmas. So maybe we should call her, like, Noelle.”
“Noelle.” Mitch watched as the girl’s chest rose and fell softly. “I think it’s beautiful. And very appropriate.”
“Good.” Jules smiled wide, leaning closer to look down at the baby. The warmth in her face was hard to look away from. “It’s nice to meet you, Noelle.”
“A true pleasure,” Mitch added, directed toward the girl. He gently laid Noelle down on the couch, where she continued snoozing.
“She’s really passed out,” Jules said. “She even slept through her naming ceremony.”
“That’s okay. We can celebrate on her behalf, right?” Mitch pushed to standing, heading toward the small bar in the adjoining room. “Do you prefer wine, whiskey, or rum?”
“Um…whiskey?” Jules said.
“You don’t sound very sure,” Mitch called out as he pulled out a bottle of Scotch whiskey.
“I like all of them. And, well, isn’t it a little early to be getting drunk?”
“We’re not getting drunk. Just having a toast.” He poured them each a finger of whiskey and brought the tumblers back over to the couch where she sat. Jules had lined the couch with pillows so the baby wouldn’t tumble over the edge…not that she moved all that much. “Now’s as good a time as any. Since Noelle is asleep.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jules received the tumbler gratefully. Mitch raised his glass.
“Here’s to the strangest day of my entire life,” he said, and Jules dissolved into laughter. She looked up at him in a way that made him feel like he’d known her for years instead of hours. Like this woman held her own secrets as well as his. “To rescuing children, to planning parties, and to weathering the storm.”
“Hear! Hear!” Jules agreed, and they clinked tumblers gently. Mitch tossed his back in one gulp while Jules took delicate sips.
“This stuff is good,” she said.
“That’s why it only comes out on the most special days.”
“Yeah. I guess this day is pretty special, huh?” Jules fingered the leather seam of his couch, her gaze turning shy as she looked up at him.
His chest went tight, and he couldn’t say why.
All he knew was that it felt a little too right to have the two of them here.
* * *
He and Jules whiled away the evening between diaper changes, feedings, and preparing the most lavish feast they could with the scant ingredients in his fridge. Though Jules was horrified by how empty his kitchen was, he reminded her that he was a bachelor living inside a super-stocked hotel—which meant a certain co-dependence on the amenities of the main floor.
Despite a fantastic and surprisingly fun evening together playing house, they both went to bed early. Jules offered to keep Noelle’s crib in her room that night, and Mitch had to bite his tongue against the suggestion that they share a bedroom. He’d known this woman a day. They’d broken a lot of unspoken rules by sharing his penthouse on the first night of caring for this baby, and he didn’t want to push the envelope too far.
But something about Jules felt familiar. The thought haunted him even through his sleep, showing up in the form of strange dreams and a sort of distant alertness, waiting for Jules to appear in his room or for the cry of the baby.
In the course of a day, he’d turned into a watchful surrogate father. That one night of sleeplessness was as close as he’d ever gotten to the newborn phase. Yet.
The next morning, he awoke earlier than normal—partly out of anxiety, wondering how Jules and Noelle had fared overnight, and also to check the weather. He pulled on pajama pants and a cotton T-shirt before wandering out into the penthouse. It was nearly seven, and the sunrise was just cresting. The entire house was full of milky blue light, caught between night and dawn.
Mitch yawned, scratching at his chest as he headed for the kitchen, but stopped suddenly when he saw the swaying figure of Jules in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he said quietly. She turned to face him, Noelle’s tiny body cradled in her arms. “Is everything okay?”
“She woke up for a feeding, and I’m just rocking her back to sleep,” she whispered, but she looked tired. Really tired.
“Let me take her.” He held out his hands so it wouldn’t be a question, and Jules gladly passed her over, yawning as she did so. “You go back to bed. I’ve got her.”
“You sure?”
Mitch nodded. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure, he’d figure it out. Jules wandered off, and he kept rocking Noelle, who had her lips pinched into the cutest little pout. Her one fist was clenched up by her face, and every so often she’d wriggle or twitch.
Mitch wandered toward the big windows in the hallway. The entire city was blanketed in white, and he
stood for a long time just looking out over the quiet, snow-covered city. Moments like these—bathed in the hues of dawn in early December, observing the city in one of its rare quiet hours—was part of what he loved most about living in this penthouse.
“If only you were awake to see this,” he whispered, looking down at Noelle. He smiled at her, but it faded quickly. Noelle might never see a dawn from a vantage point like this. Who knew where she’d end up, once they dropped her off at Social Services?
The thought stuck with him as he wandered into the living room and settled down with her in his arms. He kicked up his feet and settled into the cushions. With his baby-bearing arm propped on the arm rest, he found a comfortable position easily.
He must have drifted off. A sing-song voice called out to him.
“Miiiitch.”
He jolted awake. Noelle still slept in his arms, but Jules leaned over the back of the couch, smiling at him. She looked significantly more rested now, with bed-tousled hair and an easy grin.
“Hey. Hi. Wow.” He yawned, sitting up slightly. “What time is it?”
“Just after nine. You were sleeping like a baby. Like Noelle.”
He rubbed at an eye, trying to orient himself. The weight of Noelle in his arms must have allowed him to drift off to sleep. Normally, he didn’t sleep this late—much less go back to sleep after he was up for the day.
“How do you feel?” he asked, shifting Noelle to the flat couch and lining the side with pillows like he’d seen Jules do. “Rested?”
“Much better now.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me tap out. I needed the morning nap.”
“No problem.” He pushed to standing and stretched out. “How’s the big bad snowstorm look?”
“From what I can tell from your eagle’s nest up here,” she teased, “New York is continuing as normal.”
“Hm. Interesting.” Mitch wandered back to the windows to verify this, and spotted streets full of cars—like any normal morning in NYC. “So…should we get started toward Social Services?”
Jules nodded, running her fingers through her loose hair. Dressed like this—in his old Boston U T-shirt and his soft shorts—she made it hard to want to leave this sweet little cocoon. Even though they needed to get Noelle into the appropriate hands…part of him just wanted to keep up this charade.
It was a nice counterbalance to the cold and lonely reality that normally filled this penthouse. A single workaholic bachelor, returning to an empty home every night.
“Let me get changed,” Jules said and hurried back down the hallway toward the guest rooms. While she changed and the baby slept, he got some coffee started and chowed down on a banana, saving half of it for her—since it was the only piece of fruit left in the penthouse. When she came back out into the kitchen, dressed in her black slacks and smart button-down from yesterday, it was hard to look away from her.
“I’m making us coffee,” he said and pulled out two mugs. “And I saved half of the last available banana, in case you’re starving.”
She snickered and picked up the proffered banana. She took a big bite, chewed, and then said, “Can’t you just call room service and have them deliver it in that fancy elevator?”
“Of course.” He served up two mugs of steaming black coffee, and then pulled out his almost-empty carton of creamer from the fridge. “But this banana is more immediate.”
Noelle started fussing then. They shared a stricken look, and Jules blurted, “You go finish getting ready so we can leave. I’ll take care of her.”
Mitch retreated with his coffee to the master bedroom and got dressed for the day as quickly as he could. Since all his meetings were cancelled, he chose a more casual look—gray slacks and a sweater vest. Once he was ready and had rejoined Jules and Noelle—who was contentedly drinking from a bottle—in the living room, they started talking logistics.
“I can get us to Social Services,” Mitch said, heading for the main elevator at the back of the penthouse, “and I’ve already called for a car seat.”
“You are so on top of things,” Jules murmured, slinging her purse over her shoulder as she followed him.
The comment warmed him, though he didn’t know why. Really, the two of them tackling this unexpected challenge together had gone off without a hitch. And Mitch was the type of guy to recognize things like that—the fluidity with which two people could work together. The inherent teamwork. The unity.
And he and Jules had it in spades. Discovering an abandoned baby together was no small occurrence, and they’d handled it with ease.
He grinned over at her as the elevator plunged downward.
He’d only known her for a day, but this woman was one of the best partners he’d ever met.
7
This is for the best. This is for the best.
Jules had been repeating this line to herself ever since they’d rolled up to the office building housing the Children’s Services office. The streets were packed as usual, and any hint of the panic of the mega-storm from yesterday was totally gone and simply replaced with gray street slush as every New Yorker went about their lives as usual. He’d called a driver to take them to the office building, and the sleek car idled as she and Mitch stepped carefully through the sloppy street. Mitch extricated Noelle from the car seat while she hopped from foot to foot, pulling her long back coat tight around her.
Dropping Noelle off to Social Services was the best idea. So why did Jules want to keep her around for a little longer?
“Ready,” Mitch said, holding Noelle’s extra-bundled body with ease in his arms. The sedan pulled away. Since the one thing they couldn’t procure from Denton Hotels was an infant-size winter jacket, they’d wrapped her in thick blankets instead. Noelle fussed a bit against the bitterly cold air. Holiday garland lining the front door of the building moved in the whipping winds. Jules pushed into the building quickly, holding the door open for Mitch and Noelle.
“Here we are,” she murmured, her chest heaving as she acclimated to the warmer space and found the right office in the building. The lobby was pure commotion. Babies cried and fussed from all corners of the waiting room. Dour faces looked at them from every angle.
“Should we just…” Jules began, unsure where to start, or even who to ask.
“The service windows are over there,” Mitch said, pointing, but he didn’t move. Next to them, a lady sighed.
Jules edged forward through the waiting people and spotted a little wheel of rip-off numbers. She grabbed one—number 3207. Her heart sank when the number above one of the reception windows clicked to 2918.
“Apparently we have three hundred people in front of us,” Jules murmured when she rejoined Mitch near the door. There were no seats left.
“They must have several more waiting rooms we’re unaware of,” Mitch joked, which made her snort with laughter.
“Maybe the other ones are better.”
“If only they had VIP waiting rooms,” Mitch added. “I’d like to order a Perrier right now, but I’m not seeing the waiter.”
Jules clamped a hand over her mouth, laughter threatening to erupt. Her body shook as she struggled to contain it, and a few glares knifed their way.
A receptionist barked out the number above the window when the person didn’t appear. She repeated it angrily one last time, and then the number above her flashed to the next in line.
“They probably left,” Jules whispered to him, leaning in close. The office was cramped, so of course this gave her the liberty to brush arms with him. She caught the scent of his cologne, and she had to steel herself against his manly essence for what felt like the hundredth time since meeting him yesterday. Between his tall and sturdy frame, the easygoing smile he liked to send her way, and this baby in his arms, it was a constant fight to keep her head above water.
Little Noelle must have been more of a head trip than she realized, because with all these people jammed in around them, all she wanted to do was take Noelle and go back t
o the safety of Mitch’s penthouse.
“Should we?” Mitch asked her. When he looked at her, there was no trace of joking.
She swallowed, looking down at little Noelle. The girl blinked lazily, looking around the room, occasionally yawning or stretching. Christmas was just a few weeks away—how were they going to just leave this innocent baby with a bunch of overworked, irritated strangers with a line a mile long? Who would feed her? Who would change her diaper on time?’
Jules jerked her head into a nod, covering Mitch’s hand with her own. “We can’t leave her here for Christmas. It would be too cruel.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Mitch glanced around the room, then jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Jules buttoned up her coat and followed him out of the office as he placed a quick call to the driver. Frigid wind blasted them again once they hit the pavement of the sidewalk. A few moments later, the sedan pulled up, and Mitch opened the back door. The sleek, leather insides were warm and toasty when they eased Noelle into the car seat. She fussed a little as they strapped her in, but once the car was in motion she quieted.
“Wow.” Mitch raked a hand through his hair as he slowed for the first stoplight. “That place was a madhouse.”
“I think we made the right decision. After all, the note said we should give her a good Christmas.”
“We can at least do that,” Mitch agreed, glancing over at her. There was something definite in his blue eyes, like they’d just shaken hands.
They’d take care of her for a little longer. Just until it felt right to hand her over to the authorities. Silence fell over the car as Jules worked through what the next step might look like. She’d just spent the night at Mitch’s penthouse, but that wasn’t a feasible option from now until New Year’s…even though she wished she could go back there and curl up in that luxurious king bed until the end of time. If that was his guest room, what was the master bedroom like?
Christmas with the Denton Billionaires: The Complete Series Page 13