The Baby Bond (10 page)

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Authors: Linda Goodnight

BOOK: The Baby Bond
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“Don’t let sentimentality ruin your career.”

Sentimentality?

Cassidy felt the soft roundness of Alex’s body cradled against her, felt the movement of his little feet against her side, heard the sweet murmurings he made whenever she fed him. She glanced down into his beautiful face, aching with a love she couldn’t explain to anyone, much less Eleanor Bassett. Grandmother had no clue what she was missing.

Cassidy knew if she didn’t get off the line now, she’d say something regrettable.

Holding the phone tight enough to whiten her knuckles, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, Grandmother, Alex and I have an outing planned. Thank you for your concern.”

Without giving Eleanor a chance to reply, she replaced the receiver. It was only then that she realized Alex’s great-grandmother had not even asked about him.

Heart heavy, though she should have expected this from
Eleanor Bassett, Cassidy finished feeding Alex and then changed him.

Grandmother’s words were a reminder that her career was indeed going down the tubes. Friday, she’d missed another half day’s work to take Alex to the pediatrician. Her boss had rejected the designs she’d submitted, asking for new ones by tomorrow. In addition, the advertising firm needed several other logos and brochures for which she was primarily responsible, and she’d missed a meeting with a key client. To move up the ladder, she had to perform, and this week, for the first time in her career, she’d been reprimanded by her superior for poor performance.

Her head hurt from trying to be a good mother while also trying to be more creative in her work. Women who did it all were superheroes.

Someone pounded on the door and a male voice called, “Open up. Your ice cream is melting.”

And if she didn’t already have enough problems to solve, there was Nic Carano.

Braced to remind him that she had, indeed, refused to attend his family’s cook-out, Cassidy opened the door.

Nic, in a black T-shirt inscribed with “First things first, but not necessarily in that order,” held a pink ice-cream cone in each hand. His maize-striped overshirt was unbuttoned as usual. Black hair shining in the sun, he looked good. Real good.

Ah, the beauty of Italian heritage. It should be outlawed.

Alex surged forward, nearly wrenching himself out of Cassidy’s arms. She grappled to hang on.

Nic grinned, teeth white against his olive skin. “Trade you.”

Ignoring the unwanted flare of attraction, Cassidy took one of the cones and slid Alex into the firefighter’s hold. “How did you know to buy strawberry?”

“A guess. You don’t look like the chocolate type.”

She turned and started inside, feeling him there behind her.

“I could be vanilla,” she shot over one shoulder.

“Oh, no.” He shook his head as he followed her into the living room. “No one could mistake you for plain vanilla.”

She spun around, cone pointed at him. “Is that a compliment?”

His eyes twinkled below one quirked eyebrow. “Maybe.”

Okay, enough already, Cassidy,
she thought.
No flirting allowed, no matter how charming and cute and hunky he might be.

As a distraction, she tasted the soft ice cream. The cool burst of strawberry tantalized her tongue.

Cassidy rounded the back of the off-white couch, stopping there to lean. Having furniture between her and Nic might be a good idea, especially considering how her skin tingled and her pulse jumped around like frogs on a sidewalk.

“I thought you were going to a cookout,” she said.

“I am.” Balancing Alex easily in one arm, Nic took a giant lick of his double dip. “Good stuff, huh?”

“Great stuff. Thank you. But won’t ice cream ruin your appetite?”

“Never put off the good things in life. Dessert first. Burgers later.”

Making himself at home at one end of the couch, Nic crossed an ankle over one knee. Then he propped the baby in the resulting valley. Alex bicycled his arms, as if trying to reach the ice-cream cone.

“Think it’s okay if Alex has a bite of this?”

He was asking her? “I don’t know. Should babies have ice cream?”

Nic’s shoulders lifted. “It’s milk.”

“True.”

Though she had reservations, about both the ice cream and the man, Cassidy gave up the battle and settled on the opposite
end of the couch to watch as Nic dabbed a bit of strawberry ice cream on Alex’s tongue. The baby’s face contorted, his tongue worked in and out. Pink melted ice cream slid down his chin.

Nic laughed, a rich sound that warmed a cold place inside Cassidy. The reaction startled her. She didn’t want to
see
Nic, much less be attracted to him.

She whipped a wet wipe from a box on the end table and caught the drip before Alex’s clean shirt could be soiled. The action put her shoulder to shoulder with Nic, the top of her head resting just below his chin. She could hear him breathe and smell the scent of warm cologne mingled with cold strawberry ice cream.

Oh dear.

Abruptly, she moved away.

Nic noticed. Contemplative eyes the color of French roast coffee watched her.

Cassidy’s pulse stuttered. Her breath stuck in her windpipe. She dropped her gaze, wanting to reclaim Alex and run away, though there was no escaping her jumbled emotions.

After another uncomfortable second in which Cassidy searched for something clever to say, Nic crunched the edge of his waffle cone and raised an eyebrow. “Ready to head over to my place?”

Not on your life, buddy.

Drawing upon the cool demeanor that had won her the title of “ice queen” in college, Cassidy shook her head. “Can’t. I’m sorry. When you knocked I was getting ready to put Alex down for what I hope is a long nap so I can work.”

Nic paused on his way to another bite of waffle cone. “Work? On what?”

“Designs for a major client. I’ve fallen behind.” She didn’t add the rest. If she didn’t catch up, her chances for promotion to creative director this year would be down the tubes.

“You’re turning down an afternoon of fun with a terrific guy like me in favor of work?” His expression was comical. “This is painful.”

“Call Brittany. Or Rachel.” Both women had phoned more than once in her presence.

The comment had the opposite effect she’d intended. Nic seemed delighted.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, grinning like a maniac. “I’d feel a lot better if you’d say you are.”

Not even close. The one thing she would not ever be was one of Nic’s entourage. If he was the least bit interested in her, which he couldn’t be, she would run in the other direction. Nevertheless, the notion that he might be made her more anxious than her own unacceptable attraction.

Keeping it light, she quipped, “Jealousy keeps me up at night.”

“Oh, good. I thought Alex was doing that.”

She made a face. “Funny.”

“Yeah, I’m a funny guy. A barrel of laughs.” For a minute, his relentless cheer faded.

Cassidy blinked at the change, wondering if there was a serious side to Notorious Nic. The idea made her more uncomfortable.

“Anything I can say to convince you to go to the cookout?” he asked after a minute. “You could use some R and R after the weeks of stress. And there’s always that expert baby advice I promised.” He placed a palm over the left side of his chest. “Along with mending my broken heart, of course.”

He was kidding. He had to be kidding, but the man was charming to the max. Convincing, too. An afternoon of mindless relaxation sounded like a dream, but not with Nic Carano.

“I can’t. Really, Nic. Thanks anyway.”

“Another time maybe?”

Why was he so insistent?

She raked splayed fingers through the top of her hair. “Probably not.”

“Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing.” He sighed, resting his chin on Alex’s soft blond hair. “Mind if I take the little dude then? The folks were pretty taken with him.”

So was Nic, which should eradicate any concerns she had about his interest in
her
. This was about Alex, the baby he’d bonded with during a tragedy.

Nic Carano was not interested in her as a woman. He had plenty of those.

Any twinge of disappointment on her part was purely wounded pride.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She didn’t want her baby out of her sight, much less hanging out with a playboy fireman.

“Ah, come on. You’ll have a chance to rest and work without interruption.”

“A run,” she said without thinking.

“Huh?”

“Since Alex came along, I’ve not had time to run.”

“Great then. I’ll take him. You run, rest, work, whatever.”

“No!” How had she gotten into this? “Nic, I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I’m not ready to be away from Alex any more than I have to be. Understand?”

He tilted his head to one side, clearly
not
understanding. “No, but I respect your decision.”

Without further argument, he handed the baby to her and headed for the door.

Feeling inexplicably guilty, she followed him. Was he angry? Upset? Hurt? “Thanks for the ice cream.”

With a final wink and a quick salute, he pounded down the metal steps, open shirt flying in the breeze.

If she’d hurt his feelings, she was sorry. He’d been nothing but kind. At the same time she was relieved to have him gone.

Maybe he wouldn’t come around anymore. Maybe she’d seen the last of Nic Carano.

 

She hadn’t.

Tuesday morning as she dragged herself down the stairwell toward the parking lot, toting more than her body weight, she spotted a swarm of familiar dark heads on the sidewalk. She squinted through the overbright sunlight, shaking the cobwebs out of her sleep-deprived brain.

The Carano brothers? Surely not. Why would they be at her apartment complex at seven in the morning? Must be someone else.

In her foggy-headed condition, the newcomers could be the royal princes and she wouldn’t recognize them. She needed coffee, but since Alex, those little extras had gone by the wayside. She’d barely gotten the two of them dressed, him fed, the diaper bag packed and her hair and makeup in place. She didn’t dare arrive late to work another morning.

Suddenly, the man she did not want to think about came jogging up the steps looking poster-boy neat, his affable smile in place.

“You look grumpy,” he said.

She glared at him. How dare he look happy and handsome at seven in the morning?

“I am. Go home.”

With an annoying grin, he relieved her of all baggage except her purse and Alex. “I am home. Or I will be by noon.”

Cassidy stopped dead, one foot on a step and one on the ground. A frisson of worry tingled up her spine. “What are you talking about?”

“The apartment you mentioned. I’ve finally made the break.”

His words registered. Her heart tumbled to the concrete and lay there, shuddering. This couldn’t be happening. The man she didn’t want to be attracted to was now going to live too close to ignore.

“You rented the apartment below mine?” The words came out as flat as her mood.

Nic didn’t notice. With his usual blithe spirit, he said, “Great, huh? Now I can pop up and see Alex any time. If you’re really good, I might even babysit for you while you run.”

That part sounded good. The rest, not so good.

Plodding on to her Camry, with Nic tagging along talking a mile a minute, the possibilities whirled inside Cassidy’s head.

A firefighter living below her. The firefighter who was a walking, talking memory of one of the worst nights of her life. The firefighter who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer.

Lord,
she thought, the Bible says,
You’ll not put more on me than I can stand. This is getting real close.

Nic jogged ahead of her, too cheerful for anyone this early in the morning, and opened the back car door. Without saying a word, though she was reluctantly grateful for the extra hand, Cassidy strapped Alex into his car seat. When she turned to take the diaper bag and laptop from Nic, he had bounced around the car and was putting them on the other side.

“Thanks,” she said grudgingly and got into the driver’s seat.

Nic, all smiles and oozing charm, stood between her and the opened door, one elbow leaning on the upper edge. He bent toward her. He smelled good—like a recent shower and some subtle men’s cologne. “What time do you get home?”

“Six,” she answered, her mind occupied with noticing him more than she wanted to. “Why?”

“Lasagna. I’m great with lasagna.”

He wanted to cook for her? “I might be running late. Work is backed up.”

“No problem. Lasagna will wait.”

“Oh, well…” What did she say to that?

“Hey, Nic,” a male voice called. “Are you going to move this couch or romance the neighbor?”

Great. Everyone in the apartment complex probably heard that remark.

“Bye, Nic.” Cassidy reached for the door handle. Her elbow bumped his side.

He stepped back and shot her a jaunty salute. Right before he shut the door, he said, “It’s going to be great being neighbors.”

Great
was not the word Cassidy had in mind.

 

Chapter Seven

 

“C
ome on, Nic. A trip to the lake won’t be any fun without you.”

Rachel drew her long brunette hair over one shoulder and looked at him with big, sad eyes. She and Mandy had dropped by with a pan of fresh chocolate brownies and a housewarming gift—a color-changing mood bowl.

“For chips and dip and conversation,” the girls had said.

Whatever. He’d probably eat Cheerios out of it in the morning to find out what kind of mood he was in. Or maybe run the bowl upstairs and have Cassidy eat from it and check out her mood, which changed with the wind. She had been none too excited this morning to discover he was moving in below. What was with her anyway? One day she was begging him to come over and the next she wanted him out of her sight.

Challenging woman. No wonder he liked her.

“Nic, are you listening to me?” Mandy cocked her head, pouting a little. Her pout usually got to him. Not today.

“Sure I am.” He grinned and reached for one of the brownies. “What did you say?”

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