Babies in the Bargain (16 page)

She immediately slid out of the car and walked toward him. “Marc, I—”

“I’m late. Have to leave right away.” He strode toward the shiny new Jeep he’d bought a week ago.

“But...” Holly swallowed the question she was about to ask as he climbed into the driver seat and closed the door.

His turn to be on night shift at the hospital. Her turn to babysit at home. She dashed toward the front door, hating to leave the baby alone for a minute.

“Hey, Holly,” Marc called through the open car window. “Please don’t pay attention to the clutter. The painters are taking longer than expected. It’ll all be finished in a few days.”

“A few days?”

“Definitely. By the way, the baby is clean and had his bottle. He’s in his crib, ready for the night. And there’s a casserole of meat and potatoes on the stove.” Marc’s lips parted to reveal his trademark smile.

Her stomach fluttered with a hundred butterflies. Since he’d moved to her place two weeks ago, Marc had multiplied his kindnesses. The former playboy now shopped for groceries, cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen, assumed the late night feeding for Paulito, and sometimes even prepared lunch bags for her.

How could she complain about a little mess?

“Thank you. Bye.”

She stared as his car disappeared from view. She’d just come back from a long shift and was tired, sleepy, and cranky. She needed her well-organized surroundings to study in peace.

“Darn.” The house was a mess all right.

Furniture cluttered in the middle of the living room, wallpaper stripped in the upper landing and the guestroom, buckets of cleaning solution in a corner, a ladder blocking part of the hallway. Lord, what had she got herself into? How was she supposed to study in this chaos?

She checked on the baby. He was sleeping like an angel, unaware of the mess surrounding him. If only she could do the same.

Her cell phone ring prompted her to the hallway. “Dr. Collier.” Her voice subdued, she glanced at the baby’s room. It would be the worst time for an emergency.

“Holly, what is going on?”

“Oh, hi Mom.” She smiled with relief. “How was your cruise?”

“Great.” Mom didn’t sound great at all. “I called several times. You don’t answer my messages. I was worried about you, and—”

“Sorry, Mom. I was very busy. A...little problem, but don’t worry. Everything is fine now.” No need to go into details that would earn her a page-long of advice.

 “Little? You call
that
little problem? I just called you at the NICU office. A nurse named Jenna answered. I said I was your mother and I wanted to talk to you right away. She explained you were ‘at home taking care of a baby and his father’.” Mom hardly paused to catch her breath. “Are you crazy, Holly?”

“Jenna said that?” Holly pinched her lips and inwardly cursed. Darn, it was worse than she’d anticipated. She shouldn’t have ignored Jenna’s sidelong glances and slanted smiles. “Let me explain, Mom.”

“Holly, you’re too old for me to advise you but be careful. Don’t let your kind heart send you into a messy situation. Don’t let a selfish jerk take advantage of you. Remember your father.”

From the top of the stairs, Holly dropped her gaze to the clutter in the living room. Was Mom right?

“Let me tell you what happened,” she said as she walked into her room to undress. “I had a patient, more like a friend who died in a car accident and—”

A Fed Ex box conspicuously sat on her bed. “Hold a sec, Mom.”

Holly tore the
cardboard
eagerly. There was a card inside and a dozen CDs labeled
Medical Board Exam Review
. She opened the card and read:

Dear Tia Holly,

Thank you for taking care of me.

Your Paulito

Her disgruntled grimace widened into a huge smile and tears filled her eyes.

“Mom, trust me. I know what I’m doing. We will talk later. I have to study.”

“Be careful, honey. I’ll let you go now if you are busy.”

“Everything is fine. Bye Mom.”

Her mother’s sigh reached her ears and probably the street.

In spite of Chris’s chiding and Mom’s concern, in spite of what Jenna and the rest of the staff whispered behind her back, nothing would erase the bubbliness from Holly’s smile and heart.

Marc was simply adorable.

Soon the painters would clean the house and everything would go back to normal. Although she wondered what normal meant with Marc around. No one else made her emotions flip-flop as he did.

She had a quick dinner and sat in front of her computer to view the CDs. A few hours later, her self-confidence about passing her exam peaked and her heart filled with gratitude toward Marc. The CDs were an incredible help.

Tomorrow was her turn to be on call for a thirty-six hour shift. She slept with a smile on her face and dreamed of her handsome guest.

Two days later, Holly arrived home early to see Marc and thank him for the CDs. His car was in the driveway, but he didn’t come out. Did he have a free night? In spite of her exhaustion after a long shift, she smiled, her pulse accelerating at the idea of sharing an evening at home with him.

Although the last time they were home together, she’d locked herself in her room to study, and he ended up glued to his laptop, working on his research. Two studious roommates. Marc hadn’t stepped out of line once.

Holly twitched her mouth. She should be satisfied. Her housemate had kept his part of the bargain and behaved like a gentleman. Whether she hid herself under scrubs or glowed in a fetching outfit, his attitude had remained irreproachable. As if he’d developed color blindness. Not a hint of compliment, while she indulged in X-rated fantasies involving him and struggled with inappropriate blushes.    

She unlocked the front door and stepped into her foyer, wishing his indifference, or hopefully his self-control, could rub off on her. “Hello, I’m home.”

She found a note on the kitchen table and a vase of flowers.

Hi, Holly, Thank you for everything. Marc.

The heavy sweet perfume of twelve pink roses kicked her pulse to a faster rhythm, sending warmth to her chest. Her gaze darted to the top of the stairs. He’d given her the tapes and now the flowers. Were his presents the manly way to show he cared? Should she knock on his room and thank him?

She took the stairs two at a time.

“Oh, my God,” she squealed with delight as she whirled around on the upper landing, noting the neatness, and entered her bedroom. “I can’t believe it.”

Marc came running from the baby’s room. “You’re home already?”

“This?” Ignoring his question, she pointed to the painted walls, her exhaustion flying through the open window with the gentle breeze that ruffled the mauve flowered curtain.

His eyebrows shot up. “Do you like it? If you don’t, I can tell them to change the color.”

Being gallant and generous was part of his upbringing. No wonder he was so popular at the hospital. “I love it. Lavender. But—”

“You said you wanted something that matches your comforter.”

“Oh, Marc, thank you so much. I thought they were only going to work on the guestrooms for you and the baby. Mine’s not important.” She smiled, happiness bubbling through her. “But it’s so pretty.” Her heart melted with joy, and she struggled not to throw her arms around his neck.

“They painted the entire second floor.” He took her hand and pulled her out of the room. “The landing is in off white. Come and see the baby’s room. They used the wallpaper you chose. Do you like it?”

She stood at the door and admired the colorful pattern of blue elephants and yellow giraffes. “I love it. And look at that. They brought the baby furniture, even the rocking chair. The room is complete.”

The house was clean, back in shape, and the walls painted or papered. All that to please her. Like a loving husband.

A platonic one at that. Unfortunately.

“Shh. Paulito is sleeping. Want to see my room?”

She didn’t recognize the guestroom with clean, beige walls. A queen size bed built of cherry wood occupied the center of the room, with a night table on each side of the bed and a dresser and mirror across from it.

“They stored the old furniture in the basement.”

“Thank you, Marc. It’s amazing. Thank you for the CDs, and the flowers, and the painting.” She felt like Cinderella, pampered in her own house. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. His arms instantly wrapped around her waist and his mouth slanted over hers.

At last.

Her knees wobbled.

I miss you. I want you
.

Her pulse racing, she hooked her arms around his neck. It was inevitable, she thought as she inhaled his clean, masculine smell and returned his kiss with a frenzied mix of passion and trepidation.    

“Holly, my darling,” he whispered between kisses, raking his fingers through her hair.

His tongue slipped between her parted lips, playing and tormenting. She moaned and clung to him.

A cry pierced through the air, shaking her out of her daze. She snatched her mouth away. “Paulito.”

A scorching kiss immediately interrupted. Murphy’s law at its best, or fate trying to warn her off?

She scrambled out of his arms and hurried to the next room. Marc followed her. She scrunched her nose as she picked up the wailing infant. “I have to change him.”

“I’ll fix him a bottle. And then you’ll tell me about your last two days.”

Her heart pounding, she watched Marc’s delicious mouth, the lower lip wider and lusher than the upper. She still wanted to nibble on that lip and sighed.

She wanted Marc badly, but not for a night or two. A long time ago, she’d dreamed of loving words and a sweet proposal. Now these dreams were invading her mind like a recurring hurricane.

Was she going nuts? They’d have to survive two more months in this house.

Thank you, Paulito.
“You’re my guardian angel, sweetheart. Although your method is a bit unorthodox,” she said with a chuckle. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She changed the baby and then settled in the rocking chair, holding him against her heart.

Marc came back and handed her a bottle. “So, what’s going on at the hospital?”

 She shrugged and gave Paulito his formula. “To be honest, I’d rather not talk business tonight. When did the painters do all this? Three days ago the house was still a mess.”

“Yes, the stripping and preparation of the walls took longer than expected and longer than the actual painting. The baby and I went to sleep at my place while they worked on his room.”

“Good idea. I wouldn’t have liked Paulito around paint fumes.” She sniffed right and then left, testing the air. “They did a good job of airing out the place.” She put the baby against her shoulder for a burp and then laid him in his crib.

 “Come.” His hand on her back, Marc led her out of the room. “Let’s get a drink and dinner.”

In the kitchen, he told her to sit at the dining table and relax. “I’ll fix us a piña colada
.
A real Puerto Rican one.” She raised her eyebrows. “The movers brought a box of my liquors with the furniture.”

She laughed. Typical male. He couldn’t live without his favorite drinks. He handed her a glass and tasted his. “What do you think?”

“Mmm. Delicious.” She liked the bittersweet drink and liked her barman even more.

He filled a bowl with Tostitos and a smaller one with salsa, and set them in front of her. “Help yourself to the hors d’oeuvres. We’ll have
pasta à la Suarez
for dinner.” With a flourish, he put on her apron and filled a pot with water.

Whoever said Marc was not marriage material had to have her head examined. Holly couldn’t believe she’d reached this conclusion after hosting Marc and his baby less than foor weeks.

“
Pasta à la Suarez
?” She chuckled. “May I have the recipe?”

“Sure. You boil the pasta, fry herbs and garlic, add shrimp, and
voilà
.”

“It sounds so simple.” She wished she could run upstairs for her camera. Her flowered apron and his boyish expression contrasted with his self–confident, male charm. An irresistible combination.

 “It’s one of Abuelita’s specialties. But you’ll have to promise to tell her I cooked it myself. She’d never believe I can cook. Or any man for that matter.”

Holly watched him curiously. She nodded, not knowing how to answer.

Marc opened a bag of precooked shrimp and poured it in the pan, then drained the noodles and mixed them with the shrimps and herbs. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes, Madam. I mean Doctor.”

He sat across from her, raised his glass and clicked it against hers. “To your health, sweetie.
Salud
.”

She swallowed her drink, loving the sweet taste of the piña colada, loving the endearment she’d previously resented, and loving the handsome face so close to hers.

God, was she already drunk?

He sipped his drink and held her gaze, never wavering from her eyes. His face seemed so close as he played with a lock of her hair. Closer and closer.