Impulse Control (17 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Russ awoke, instantly alert. He scanned the room. Whatever had awakened him was a threat, out of place and unexpected, or he wouldn’t have adrenaline lighting up his nerves. A high-pitched, plaintive cry filled the room. He swiveled toward the source of the sound, a box with blinking lights sitting on her dresser. What the hell was that thing? Silently, he crossed the room, watching the lights wave as the cry sounded again.

Susannah stirred, sighing.

The box had an antenna and was plugged into the wall. He picked it up, realizing it must be some sort of baby monitor. Did it have an off switch? He stroked his thumb over a dial, and the sound got louder. He went the other way and heard a click. Off. Now what? Susannah rolled over and wrapped herself around his pillow.

He grabbed his jeans and decided to assess the situation. If the kid shrieked bloody murder at the sight of him, she’d wake up, anyway. The nursery was right across the hall. He slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and opened the door to Billy’s room. The kid was sitting up, grasping the bars of the crib, and talking to them. Russ couldn’t make sense of the babbling, but the scent in the air held meaning.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered.
Literally.

He considered aborting the mission and waking Susannah, but then the kid saw him. The burbling sound he made was not a shriek. It sounded welcoming. He’d seen the cautious look Susannah had given him before she let him into the kid’s room last night. He had a short pass only, but he couldn’t resist crossing to the crib. “We’ve got a situation, huh?”

Billy pulled to standing and held up his arms. Russ grabbed him under the armpits and pulled straight up. He turned him from side to side and spotted a dark stain on the side of his pajamas. “Impressive.”

Holding him at arm’s length, Russ carried him over to the table in the corner. It was easy enough to get the snaps undone but once he did, he grimaced. “What the heck is she feeding you?” Maybe if he kept talking the kid would hold still, because this could get messy if he wiggled, which he proceeded to do. “Whoa, hey, hang on, kid. I’m a newbie.” He grabbed a handful of those wipe things she’d used last night and dabbed at the seepage.

The kid grabbed his hand. Not a good idea, at least not until he washed it. He used his elbow to nudge some sort of toy-looking thing toward the kid. Billy picked it up and threw it. Russ head butted it, and it banked off the wall and landed on the table. Billy giggled and reached for it again.

Russ made his move. He unfastened the tapes, opened the diaper, and piled a dozen wipes on top of his crotch. “Remember what I said about peeing standing up? Give some thought to the whole toilet thing. I can’t imagine you’re enjoying this any more than I am.” He had a bad feeling there was more wiping to be done. He was right. This time he grabbed the kid’s ankles and lifted. The kid seemed amused. “Laugh it up, poopy pants.”

When he was done, the pile of wipes was bigger than the damn diaper, but Billy was clean. A sense of accomplishment soared through him. Situation handled. Feeling triumphant, he picked Billy up by the ankles and dangled him it the air. “Which end does this thing go on again? I can’t remember. Hmm…” Billy giggled uncontrollably, just about the cutest damn thing Russ had ever heard, until he remembered what Susannah had said about keeping him covered. He held Billy higher and looked him in the eyes. “Just so you know, if you pee on me, it will be the end of our beautiful friendship.”

His heart thudded hard, and his stomach did an odd flip. It was the end, anyway. After today, they were done.

He carefully lowered him to the floor and grabbed a diaper, figuring his chance of getting it on right would increase with the amount of space in which he had to work. As it turned out, the whole diaper thing went better than the wiping thing, probably because he’d done it last night.

“Jesus,” he said when he was done. “I guess you expect clothes now, huh?” There was a stack at eye level under the table. He frowned. “You really wear this stuff?” Baby blue was fine for pajamas, but not real clothes. He spotted a pair of khakis, but tossed them back when he saw they had a bear sewn on the ass. “Weren’t you wearing jeans yesterday? Where are they?” He rooted around under the table and finally found an acceptable pair, if you ignored the snaps going up one side of the leg. “Not much dignity for you, huh, kid?” Billy made a dismissive grunt, and Russ could have sworn the kid shrugged.

Russ lowered himself until they were eye to eye and nose to nose. “I have a solution for that. Stop crapping in your pants.”

He worked the kid’s fat little legs into the jeans and stood him up. Billy put his hand on Russ’s shoulders as he adjusted the waistband, and something inside Russ tightened hard enough to snap. The kid was so trusting, so goddamn sweet. His hands were so tiny and fragile-looking, yet they gripped Russ’s heart like steel claws.

He stood and surveyed the wreckage of the room. “I don’t suppose you know what to do with that?” He pointed at the diaper. “I probably can’t just leave it there.”

Billy got to his feet and walked over to him. He put one hand on Russ’s knee and then he smacked the top of a plastic hamper thing. Russ looked closer. It wasn’t a hamper because there was a hamper on the other side of the table. What was it?

Russ pushed a button and the top flipped up, filling the air with the unmistakable scent of baby powder and shit. He slammed the lid back down. “Got it. Hang on.” He wrapped the dirty diaper into a more contained package, held his breath, and opened the lid again. He jammed it into the thing. Taking a guess, he twisted the dial on the top, and the smell abated. Sort of.

“Now what?” He tossed all the clothes that had hit the floor back under the table, leaving the soiled pajamas on top.

Billy was standing at the door. “I saw how fast you move, and I bet you’ve been working on your staircase swan dive, haven’t you?” Russ picked him up, just in case.

As they left the nursery, Susannah’s bedroom door opened and she emerged, wild-eyed. “The monitor was off.”

“I turned it off so you could sleep. Does he do that every morning? We need some serious hand-washing and maybe a visit from HazMat. Hell of a wake-up call.”

She blinked at him, looking adorable in her gaping robe, with bedhead, makeup under her eyes, and a sleep crease on her cheek. Was it wrong to look down her robe while holding her son?

“Thank you.” She held out her arms, and Billy reached for her. She settled him on her hip and kissed his cheek. “You didn’t have to do that.” She walked past him into the nursery and raised an eyebrow when she saw the mess under the changing table. “Redecorating?”

“Trying to find him some manly duds.”

Her nostrils flared as she looked from him to Billy. “Good job, but he needs a shirt.”

“Right.” Russ rubbed his own bare chest. “I didn’t think of that.”

Silence settled between them and he couldn’t decide if it was the comfortable kind or the what-the-hell-are-you-still-doing-here kind. He knew what he wanted it to be, but he also knew it was better to go.

He turned for the door.

“I was thinking steak and eggs.” Her voice was casual. “I promised you breakfast.”

He matched her tone. “That sounds great.”

…

Susannah stuck the last plate in the dishwasher, added soap, and turned it on. Before breakfast could be made, the dishes from last night had to be cleared. It hadn’t taken long, but the raucous sounds coming from the family room were very distracting. Russ had promised to put the pillows back on the couch, but that process seemed to include putting Billy under them and pretending he was lost. She wasn’t sure who was having more fun, Russ or Billy, but it was clear she needed to find someone to provide this sort of roughhouse play on a permanent basis. Her heart jolted. There was a countdown going on, and she felt every minute. When she’d awakened alone, she’d assumed he’d left without saying good-bye, and then a glance at the silent baby monitor had made her feel even worse. She’d been sleeping so soundly, Billy might have been screaming for hours.

A smile spread across her face as she remembered she’d gone for the gusto when she bought the fancy monitor. The video feature was unnecessary, now that Kim was sitting for Billy on a regular basis, but she’d never turned it off. Somewhere in the cloud, there was a video recording of Russ changing that diaper, and she couldn’t wait to see it.

She got busy cracking eggs and twenty minutes later she called, “Breakfast.” She heard a muffled thump and some scrambling and then Russ came into the kitchen with Billy over his shoulder the way he’d carried her last night.

Their eyes met.

“Does he nap, Susannah?”

She nodded. “Most of the time.”

“What do you say we chuck him into the car for his nap and drive into the city for dinner? I’d like to find out the answer to your burning question about whether fine-dining restaurants have high chairs.” He buckled Billy into his seat.

Of all the crazy locations he’d suggested over the past month, dinner in the city had been most tempting. She’d kill for a meal she didn’t have to cook that didn’t come in a paper bag or a cardboard box. She put eggs on Billy’s tray and a plate of steak, eggs, and loaded potato salad pancakes in front of Russ and watched him dig in like a starving man. His pleasure in the food made her feel warm and tingly, and she sighed, taking a bite from her own plate. It was easy, too easy, to pretend this morning meant something it didn’t. Russ had been standing with one foot out the door until she’d offered him breakfast.

Billy giggled and held out a bite of egg to Russ, who took it, tossed it up in the air, and caught it in his mouth, inciting more giggles. Naturally, Billy held out another piece of egg, which made her laugh, too. Her son would play that game all day.

Her cell phone rang, and she glanced over to see who it was. Ethan. Again. He’d been calling all week, but she’d spent a year ignoring him, and she wasn’t going to stop now. Custody of Billy was nonnegotiable until her lawyer gave her a court date and she was forced to show up. So far that hadn’t happened. The phone stopped ringing. And started again. She silenced it.

Russ was looking at her with a question in his eyes.

She shrugged. “His father.”

He nodded. “So…dinner?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “I can’t.”

He didn’t look upset, and that irritated her. The least he could do was pretend he cared.
Oh wait, he’s been doing that for a month.
Her stomach did a flip-flop, and the plate of food in front of her suddenly looked about as appetizing as roadkill.

What was she thinking? The whole point of the second show had been to show how ill-suited they were as a couple.
Fail.
Her thoughts scrambled, for the first time considering the ramifications of the twist the show had taken last night. Would they have to engineer a public breakup now? If so, the sooner the better. She’d never survive another month of fake flirting. She scrubbed her hands over her face.

“I’m going to guess from your expression you’ll also say no to going back to bed when he goes down for his nap. I don’t have to fly out until tomorrow.” His smile lit his eyes with pale blue fire. “One more night?”

Heat shimmered over her skin, touching her breasts, belly, thighs, and lighting up her sex. She licked her lips, momentarily stunned by depth of her desire. She wanted to say yes—to dinner, to bed, to everything—but he wasn’t going to stay.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“I have a board meeting for Lance’s charity in DC. We’re interviewing candidates for the endowed chair.”

He stood, moving to stand behind her. His hands tangled in her hair, stroking it out of the way so his warm fingers could dig in to the tender spots in her neck and shoulders. She nearly groaned. Every thought slipped from her mind as his hands unerringly sought out hot spots of tension and unraveled them. She kept her eyes on Billy, making sure he was safe, while Russ turned her into a puddle of goo.

He moved to her arms, rubbing gently, and it became a little easier to think as the knots in her muscles dissolved. Now his touch merely felt amazing instead of
holy gods don’t ever stop, not ever
. Of course, he’d probably massage her as long as she let him. Why would he stop? She hadn’t said yes, and Russ Donovan loved a challenge.

She forced air into her lungs, further clearing her head, and tried to summon her willpower by thinking of reasons to say no.
He’s good with his hands because he’s had plenty of practice with other women.
Practice she couldn’t resent when he’d used it to change her entire worldview on sex.
He’s leaving. One more night with him won’t make it any easier to let him go.
It would probably make it more difficult.
Probably? Who am I kidding?
Desire lanced her heart so suddenly she clutched his hands, stilling their caress.

“Susannah?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, knowing she had her heart written all over her face. Heat flared in his gaze, and his hand shifted to grip her chin. He bent to take her mouth in a hard kiss. She kept her eyes open, peripherally aware of Billy’s movement the second before he pelted them with a fistful of cold scrambled eggs.

Russ didn’t even flinch. Without breaking their kiss, he picked a chunk of egg out of her hair and aimed it at Billy.

She grabbed his hand. “We model good behavior in this house, remember?”

“I’m starting to like the sound of that ‘we.’”

Her heart caught. She liked it, too, so much that it was hard to remember why she had to keep saying no.
Maybe I don’t.

There was a reason Billy and she rarely went out to dinner, and it would send the Wild Man screaming for the hills. Permanently. Since it was getting more and more difficult to resist him, she’d have to make him stop asking. His fondness for the word “we” wouldn’t last past the first course.
Public breakup: dead ahead.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “On second thought, Billy and I would love to have dinner in Manhattan tonight. I’ve been dying to try Inferno. Do you think we can get a last-minute reservation?”