Her laughter fills the cab of the truck. It’s a beautiful sound and if I wasn’t currently squeamish, I would savor it.
“You’ll be fine,” she assures me. “I’ll even be there to hold your hand.”
“I mean, that makes it a little better.” She thinks I’m kidding, but she’s wrong. Knowing she’s there in my corner makes all the difference.
“Stop.” She grins. “Take me to Target so I can buy this little man some new stuff.”
“You pick it out, I pay for it.”
“No dice, Callahan. I work too. I want to do this, not for you, not for me, but for him.”
“We’ll see,” I say, pulling out of the parking lot. “So what else is on your list for today?”
“Nothing specific. I just want to look around. See what I find. A few more outfits, maybe?”
“Yeah, he goes through laundry pretty fast.”
“Yes, he does. I also just want to look. He’s eventually going to need a bed, so I thought we could just look and see what our options are. You know, just to have an idea.”
“We’ve got all day,” I tell her.
She chuckles. “You know who you’re talking to, right? Do you not remember all the shopping I did for Sophia?”
“I remember, and as long as I’m spending the day with you, I don’t care.”
“Aw, look at you being all mushy and stuff.”
“Just speaking from the heart, my love,” I say dramatically, causing us both to laugh. Once we reach the store, I carry Milo inside and place his seat on the cart. Immediately an older lady stops us and wants to touch him. I growl, a low, deep sound from the back of my throat and she backs away slowly. I should feel bad, but I don’t have one single fuck to give. Why people think it’s okay to put their germy hands on an infant is beyond me.
“She was just being friendly.” Gabby bites her lip, trying not to laugh.
“I get that. She could have told us how cute he was or whatever it is she wanted to say without touching him. We don’t even know her and she wants to put her hands on our kid. That’s not cool, Gabs.”
“Okay, papa bear. Let’s go find what we need.”
After about an hour in Target, we decide on a drive-thru for lunch so we can get Milo home and feed him. I set up his new swing while Gabby changes his diaper and gives him a bottle. Once his belly is full and he’s swinging in his new accessory, we curl up on the couch and make out like teenagers. I kiss her slow and deep, taking my time. Just enjoying being here with her. There is nowhere else I’d rather be, and I try like hell to show her that with each kiss, with each caress.
I don’t know what the future holds. I’m still worried about the test results, but not the way I was when he appeared in our lives. Now I’m worried he won’t be mine. That this new life of ours won’t be real. I want more than anything for it to be true.
Chapter 13
Gabby
“This is crazy,” I mumble to myself, trying to figure out why the payroll program isn’t computing the numbers right. I can tell it’s not making the proper adjustments in the tax columns. I’m less than two hours away from handing out paychecks, and the program is acting up. I grab the phone on my desk, ignoring an incoming call, and dial the number for the helpline. Of course, I’m put on hold right away for the next available representative.
“Gabby, the phone is for you,” Harrison says as he steps out of his office.
“Can’t talk now. The software for payroll isn’t right. I’m on the line with the help desk,” I tell him.
“Well, it’s the Lakeview location. They say a shipment of hand towels just arrived,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Okay, good.”
“No, I don’t think so. The paperwork says hand towels, but that’s not what they received.”
I stop messing with the program and ask, “What did they receive?”
He looks about to burst into laughter. “Adult diapers.”
My mouth falls open, my chin practically hanging to my chest. “Adult diapers? What in the hell are we going to do with… that?” I ask, my frustration level reaching Mount St. Helens level.
“Uhhh, I’m guessing we won’t be drying our hands with them, though they promise super absorbency.”
I groan out my irritation in having to deal with this shit on a Friday afternoon and mumble a few choice words just as the technician picks up on the other line. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, no. Not you, sir. I’m sorry. Just having a shitty day,” I tell him before launching into an explanation about what the program is doing.
“Gabby?” Harrison whispers, holding his hand up to his ear and mimicking a phone.
“Tell them not to accept the shipment,” I say to him as the technician on the phone asks me to accept his computerized call to log into our system. “Yep, you’re in,” I say into the phone.
“They already did,” Harrison states.
Closing my eyes and exhaling, I turn to face my brother-in-law. “Tell them I’ll call them back. I can’t talk into two phones at once, so I’ll deal with the diapers when I’m done with the payroll,” I tell him, not able to mask my annoyance.
Harrison nods quickly, making a mad retreat like I might actually bite his head off if he remains by my desk for even a single second longer. I watch as the technician goes through the software, making a few adjustments and updates along the way. I try to focus on what he’s doing, or even the diaper mess that awaits me the moment I get this payroll mess cleaned up, but let’s be honest, that’s not where my mind is.
It’s on the little boy who’s spending the day with my sister.
Milo.
It’s my second day back to work since he arrived on our doorstep last week, and I’m feeling the loss tremendously. I’ve texted Gwen no less than eight times today, just to check in, which is an improvement over yesterday’s fourteen. Little things like reminding her of his eating schedule, how he likes you to sing the choo-choo song when changing his diaper, or to relay the fact that he was up from two until about three-thirty this morning, wide awake.
Again.
This was all info I shared with her when I dropped him off, yet that doesn’t stop me from fretting about it all damn day.
And it’s not just me. I could tell Chase was struggling too. We hung around a few extra minutes this morning, Chase making sure Milo was changed and snuggled into Sophia’s old swing before he slowly made his way to the front door like a man on death row. And that was an improvement over the day before. The first day, drop off took forty-five minutes, and I cried.
A lot.
“There you go, ma’am. It looks like you missed a recent update with the new tax modifications. Your system is up-to-date now and should compute correctly,” he says, breaking me out of my baby blues funk and back to the present. It also doesn’t go unnoticed that he called me ma’am, like I’m fifty-three years old. Do I sound that old?
Unable to hide my irritation, I reply, “Thank you.”
“Unless there’s anything else, you’re all set today, ma’am.”
I sigh, closing my eyes.
Ma’am.
I’m probably ten years younger than this guy. Who is he calling ma’am?
“Nothing today,” I grumble, disconnecting before I can say anything else that’ll probably get me written up.
“Is payroll ready? I was supposed to leave five minutes ago,” my boss asks politely as he steps into my office.
I turn and give him a look. Not just any look, but the look. The one that says I’m going to kill you in your sleep and hide the body where no one will ever find it if you don’t step back for five fucking seconds.
“We’ve got time,” he replies quickly, his eyes wide with fear. Rubbing the back of his neck, Harrison adds, “You just tell me when you’re ready.” Then, another hasty retreat from my office.
I hit the keys a little too hard as I finish imputing everyone’s time. The program does exactly what it’s supposed to do, co
mputing the correct deductions and withholdings, and before I know it, paychecks are printing.
Except when they’re not.
I glance over at the offending printer, knowing I put enough checks in the tray for today’s payroll run, and find the red light flashing on top.
Toner.
Mother of God in heaven, is there anything else that can go wrong today?
“Hey, Gabby, the toilet in the men’s locker room is overflowing. Can you call the plumber?” one of the trainers asks as he steps around the corner.
I glance up, my face probably as red as the maroon Nike tank top sculpted to his perfectly chiseled torso. He’s not a bad-looking guy and he knows it, but he doesn’t hold a candle to Chase Callahan.
Before I can even formulate a reply that involves the words death, fuck-off, and beatdown, Harrison practically comes sprinting into the office. “I’ll make that call, Dane. Gabby’s a little busy right now, so why don’t you step into my office and we’ll call the plumber.” Dane glances my way, clearly noticing the eye-daggers I’m throwing at him, and follows our boss into his office in a rapid departure.
I take a deep breath, and then another.
Why am I so irritable?
Closing my eyes and exhaling deeply, I turn my attention to the printer. Thank God, I keep extra toner on hand. I pop the new one in the machine and click the OK button on top, probably a lot harder than I need to. It instantly starts printing paychecks, and I can’t help but sigh in relief.
I take the stack into my brother-in-law’s office just as he sets down the phone. “The plumber is on his way,” he says to Dane, glancing my way for a brief second.
“I’ll let the front desk know to watch for him,” Dane says before exiting the office, keeping an eye on me the entire way, as if he’s afraid to give me his back.
When he’s gone, I set the stack of checks on his desk and he immediately starts to sign. The silence is deafening, and I know I need to apologize for my shitty mood. He didn’t do anything wrong, yet I’m taking my craptastic day out on him. “Hey, sorry I’ve been a little out of sorts today,” I say as I drop down into the chair across from his desk.
He glances up, glasses perched on his nose, and gives me a small smile. I can totally see why my sister fell head over heels in love with the man. “Gabby, do you remember when you first started?” he asks, setting his pen down and giving me his full attention. The fact that he still has half the paychecks to sign doesn’t go unnoticed by me, and I’m sure it shows on my face.
Harrison just grins again and leans back in his chair. “Those first few days were hell.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I kinda already know where he’s going with this.
“Leaving Winnie and Sophia at home was torture. I wanted to be there, with them, but I couldn’t. I had obligations to this place, to the employees, and to those who pay for our services. I needed to be here, rebuilding what was destroyed by that fire, when all I wanted to do was throw in the towel and head home to my family.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat.
“I promise it gets easier, leaving your child, but you couldn’t have left him in more capable hands,” he says, referring to his wife.
“But he’s not… my child.”
Harrison gives me a pointed look, one eyebrow rising on his forehead. “Isn’t he?”
The air in the office is warm and suffocating as I try to tamp down the tears threatening to fall. Harrison doesn’t call me on them, just picks up the pen and starts to sign his name again.
No, Milo isn’t mine… but sometimes, it feels like he is. That warm feeling I get when I think about that sweet baby hits me square in the chest, making my heart gallop and the waterworks fall. The answer to the big question still hangs open. The lab hasn’t sent the results from the swab, and I think it’s starting to take a toll on my emotions. I reach for a Kleenex on the corner of the desk and silently dab at my lower lids.
When he’s done signing, he slides them back my way. I keep my eyes focused on the names on the checks, carefully dividing them by location and stuffing them in individual envelopes. “I’ll take these,” he says, taking two stacks of completed checks, “And Chase can run these,” he finishes, sliding the other pile my way.
“Okay,” I whisper, the single word thick in my throat, grabbing the stack that’s left for our location.
Harrison looks up, his dark eyes soft with understanding. “Take a quick coffee break.”
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I need to call the distributor.”
“Those diapers aren’t going anywhere. Take a break and then make the call,” he says, getting up and taking payroll with him. I do the same, gathering the pile that Chase will run. “You got this, Gabby.”
Then, he does something completely shocking and pulls me into a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper, sniffling against his All Fit T-shirt.
Before my brother-in-law can reply, a loud, animalist growl fills the room. “You got your own woman, Drake. Get your hands off mine.”
Harrison snorts, but doesn’t let go. “Mind your own business, Callahan,” he teases, knowing he’s ultimately just poking the bear.
“Fuck off,” Chase demands, pulling me from his best friend’s arms and into his own. His familiar scent and embrace washes over me, immediately causing two things to happen. I’m wrapped in comfort and suddenly aroused. Chase notices my tears (or what’s left of them) and asks, “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head and sniffle. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing is making you cry?” His eyes bore into mine with so much love and affection that it steals my breath.
“I’ve just had a shitty day,” I tell him, tucking my body back against his and pulling him close.
“Ahh, I’m sorry, Gabs. If it makes you feel any better, my day has been shit too,” he whispers, resting his chin on the top of my head and just holding me tight.
“I’m heading to Porter to deliver the payroll. Chase, Gabby has the Dalton checks for you,” Harrison says, heading toward the door. “I’ll drop these off at the front counter,” he adds, referring to the stack that stays in our building.
When we’re left alone, Chase takes a small step back and looks down at me. “Do you have plans tonight?”
“You mean plans other than falling into bed by seven and sleeping for fourteen hours straight?” I ask, knowing there’s no way either of those will happen, not with a baby. But a girl can hope.
He smiles that breathtaking, panty-melting smile. “Yeah, besides that.”
I shake my head. “No, no other plans.”
“Great. Milo and I will pick you up at five thirty.”
My eyebrows shoot for the sky. “What happens at five thirty?”
“Your date begins.”
“A date, huh?”
Chase runs his hand across my forehead, moving stray strands of hair. “A date. Milo and I were talking this morning,” he starts.
“At two thirty?”
“Yeah, then,” he replies with a chuckle. “Anyway, we were discussing the fact that I haven’t been able to take you out on a proper date.”
“We went on a date,” I remind him.
The way his eyes darken, I know he’s remembering that particular night as well. “Yes, but I want to take you to a restaurant. Milo agreed to go with me, you know, as my wingman.”
Now, I’m giggling and the heaviness I felt earlier starts to lift. “He did, did he?”
Chase nods. “He says it’s important that he comes with me to make sure I don’t screw it all up.”
“Well, then who am I to deny little Milo?”
“I figured you’d say that. That little guy seems to have everyone as putty in his hands.”
“That he does. He gets it from his dad,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his broad chest once more.
Chase kisses my forehead. “I’ll run these checks to Dalton. I have one client there and then I’ll head back
here to take you home.”
Home.
I love it when he says that.
“Sounds good,” I tell him. His lips find mine in a slow, tantalizing kiss that leaves my body humming. “I’ll be back soon, and then the little man and I will take out our girl.”
Our girl.
Never in a million years did I ever think I’d get all giggly and swoony over hearing Chase Callahan refer to me as his girl. But here I am, falling for the man at a rate faster than I ever expected could happen. And Milo? Well, he’s just the icing on top of the perfect little cupcake.
When I step out of the bedroom and head downstairs, I find my dates waiting in the living room. Chase is wearing khaki shorts and a blue button-down shirt that molds perfectly to his physique without being vain or over the top. And Milo? He’s wearing tiny khaki shorts, a white onesie with a black tie printed on the front, and little blue suspenders.
“Oh my God, where did you find these?” I ask, my hands reaching for the little guy and his cuteness. I’m wearing a dark blue wrap dress that clings to my curves and hits just above the knees. I knew the moment I saw it at the store that Chase would love it. I’ve paired it with some tan sandals and big silver hoop earrings, and I must say, the final result is pretty sexy.
Chase exhales. “Second fiddle again,” he mumbles lightheartedly.
When Milo is tucked securely in my arm, I lean up and place a kiss on his dad’s lips. “And you, Mr. Callahan, are looking mighty fine tonight,” I reassure, running my hand up his chest.
Chase practically purrs. “Mighty fine enough to maybe lose those panties later tonight?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.
“Who said I’m wearing any?” I ask with a wink and a smile.
“Christ, I’m not going to make it through the night,” he grumbles, finding my lips once more with his. “You look positively edible.”
I secure Milo in his carrier and turn to my date for the evening. “I’m hoping that could be arranged too.”
He groans, and there’s no mistaking the large bulge in the front of his shorts. “I’m going to have a hard-on all night,” he says, picking up the carrier and the packed diaper bag. Chase has gotten pretty good in these last few days at packing up everything Milo will need for whatever excursion we’re going on.
Fair Lakes Series Box Set Page 43