The Playboy's Baby (8 page)

Did she hear him right? She shut off the water and leaned her hip against the counter. “Are you telling me you went with her all those times to protect her?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Frankly Em, there are a lot of things you don’t know about. Things I promised Janey I’d never tell you.”

“Like what?”

He sipped his coffee. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Apparently he intended to keep his promise and she had to admit she respected him more for it. She arched a brow, curious. “So, why tell me now?”

He pursed his lips, the crease between his brows deepening. “Because just once I’d like you to stop expecting the worst from me. I take my responsibilities seriously.”

Unable to resist, she quirked a playful brow at him. “You telling me you didn’t enjoy those escapades she got you into?”

His gaze flicked to her, his dark eyes twinkling. His mouth split into that heart-stopping grin. “Oh, I won’t deny that. Your sister was a riot. That’s what I loved about Janey. She was fun as hell.” His easy smile melted from his face, his features sobering. “But I’m not that young kid anymore. I’ve grown up.”

Emma sighed. He had a point. “I’ll be the first to admit you’re different than the boy I remember. I had this view of you back then and was sure you were getting my sister into trouble.” She looked at him. “I honestly don’t know what to make of this side of you. It’s…not what I expected. Janey was right. She told me that once. ‘There’s more to him than meets the eye, you know.’ I figured she was just trying to placate me.”

“The papers were right to a certain extent. In college, I got fed up with being used. I decided, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, like the saying goes. I decided if the women were going to use me, I was going to use them right back.”

That made her heart ache for him, to be used like that all the time, never knowing who to trust. It also gave them something in common. She knew, to a certain extent, how that felt. “What changed your mind?”

He stared down at his cup. “Leila.”

He shook himself, turning and setting his cup on the counter. He held his hand out, palm up, watching her with soft, penetrating eyes, deep, dark eyes that called to her the longer she stared at them. “How ’bout you give me the benefit of the doubt every once in a while, hmm? I’d like a chance to prove I’m not that stupid kid anymore.”

“Deal.” Emma slipped her hand into his, told herself it was merely a gesture of friendship, of trust, but she couldn’t ignore the tingle that ran clean to her toes.

“That’s all a man could ask for.” He released her hand and smiled. This one was more in his eyes than on his mouth. The longer she stared, the more that magnetic pull spawned between them, until the world narrowed down to those dark eyes and the soft heat that reflected back at her.

Emma couldn’t be sure who moved, but she blinked and Dillon was closer than he’d been. His hands settled on her waist. His pelvis brushed her stomach and the warmth of his skin seeped into hers. Heat rolled through her belly. The desire to lean up and seize his lips became near overwhelming, until she actually leaned into him.

Barely catching herself, she reached out and braced a hand against his chest, but the feel of his skin caught her, warm and smooth beneath her fingers. She had the sudden urge to wrap herself up in it.

“You really should go get dressed.” The words left her mouth far weaker than she intended, on a breathy whisper that surely gave away her thoughts.

One hand slid over hers and held it against his chest, his thumb sweeping her knuckles. It was a subtle touch that combined with the closeness to torment her. She could well imagine those thick fingers stroking other parts of her body…

“Does it bother you?” His eyes searched hers with an intensity that made her heart tumble. His unspoken question was clear. It glimmered like an inferno in his eyes. He wanted to know if the attraction was mutual. She was tempted, so very tempted, to tell him yes, but something hitched in her brain.

This wasn’t about her. She wasn’t staying in his house so she could seduce the man.

“Oh, no, I’m used to men standing in front of me almost naked.” To cover the sudden flutter in her belly the image gave her, Emma playfully rolled her eyes. Damned if she could make herself step away from him.

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Dillon released her hand and took a step back. “I’ll get dressed. Then you can tell me what else I’m going to need.”

He grabbed his coffee cup and left the room. When he disappeared down the hallway, Emma’s body mourned the loss of his warmth in the form of a shiver that raked through her. Breathless and half giddy, she sagged back against the counter. Now she knew why he had the reputation he did. The man was hard to resist. Like smooth, rich dark chocolate. She wanted to gobble him up.

Reality hit her, and her eyes slid shut. This was never going to work. She’d never survive another twenty-four hours with him.

Chapter Five

Emma was only mildly disappointed when Dillon emerged from the hallway half an hour later wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She liked him better in the faded denim than in the towel. Hard to believe it was possible, but his jeans hugged the contours of his body, emphasizing lean hips and long, powerful thighs.

Seated at the kitchen table, she tried not to watch Dillon cross the room. When he reached her, he sank into a chair beside her. She tried to contain the erratic beat of her heart when he turned those sexy dark eyes on her.

He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “So. I have no experience whatsoever in the baby department. What do you suggest I get?”

She swallowed past the nervous lump in her throat, her stomach doing an annoying little flip. “Everything.”

“That doesn’t help.” His voice shook with amusement and the quiet sound washed over her like a heated caress. Her mouth curled into a smile of its own accord.

She swallowed a miserable groan. How come she’d never noticed how sexy his laugh was? Or the way it lit up his eyes? More to the point, how could such a simple sound make her feel like a teenager with a crush?

She sat up straighter in the chair and forced her mind to focus on his words and not the way his mouth moved when he spoke. “Well, you’re going to need a high chair for one. Plus small things like diapers and bottles.”

“What exactly
does
she eat?” His brows came together, his face twisted in a look of perplexity. The same look he had on his face last night while holding Annie. He was clearly out of his element.

“Formula mostly. I started her on solids about a month ago, so I give her cereal in the mornings, a jar of fruit for lunch, and a vegetable for dinner. She has a bottle before bedtime, like last night.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

“Mostly, you’re going to have to baby proof the house. It isn’t going to be long before she’s mobile. You’ll need to put stuff up high, where she can’t reach it. Like that vase over in the corner and the pokers by the fireplace. Anything smaller than a tennis ball too. Everything she gets her hands on goes right into her mouth and she could choke on the small stuff.”

He braced his elbows on the table, raked his hands through his hair, and let out a quiet laugh. “Why do I suddenly feel I’m in way over my head?”

Against her better judgment, she settled a hand over his. “It gets easier with time. Most people have nine months to prepare. You’ve just been dumped into the middle of it.”

He gave a miserable shake of his head, his fingers curling around hers. “You have to be back to work when?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Wednesday.”

He grinned and waggled his brows at her. “Sure you don’t want to just move in permanently?”

She laughed. “You’ll do fine.”

His smile fell and he dropped his gaze to their clasped hands, his thumb sweeping her knuckles. The worry etched in the lines of his face grabbed her attention. “I hope you’re right. That little girl deserves the best I’ve got.”

Standing in the center of a small room at the doctor’s office, Doctor Marley took what looked like a giant one-sided cotton swab and rubbed it on the inside of Annie’s mouth. Then he pushed the swab back into the protective plastic cap and set it aside. He turned to Dillon, picked up another one, and repeated the procedure. When finished, he set the swab with the other and turned to smile at the two of them.

“That’s it.”

Doctor Marley had changed a lot since she last saw him. The small man had grown a protruding belly and the salt and pepper hair she remembered had turned completely gray. The bald spot on the top of his head had become more pronounced too. His warm smile still lit up his entire face.

“I expected blood.” Dillon bounced Annie in his arms, a perplexed look on his face.

Emma grinned and nodded at Annie. “I expected her to scream.”

“Nope. They’ve advanced DNA testing quite a bit. Just a cheek swab is all it takes anymore.” The doctor tickled Annie’s chin, smiling again when she giggled. “Easier on the little ones.” He folded his hands in front of him and nodded in Dillon’s direction. “You should have your results in two to three weeks.”

Emma pulled a bottle off the display rack and turned to hand it to Dillon. “She likes these.”

He stood behind her in front of a shopping cart, Annie in the seat in front of him. They’d gone to the furniture section of the local baby emporium first, picked out a beautiful dark wooden crib, far more expensive than what she’d have chosen. She took Dillon aisle by aisle, pointing out the items Annie needed and the brands she preferred. Bottles. Teethers. Diapers.

Dillon nodded and motioned for her to throw things into the cart, but otherwise remained silent, a slightly bewildered look on his face, like he hadn’t quite assimilated it all yet.

She found it odd to see him there, in front of a shopping cart full of baby gear. He looked like a parent. A lost parent, but a parent no less. It contradicted the playboy image the papers made him out to be, contradicted the arrogant rich boy she grew up with, simply because the father image suited him. He looked good with Annie. So oddly right and so far he’d fallen right into it. He picked her up from her nap an hour earlier and only put her down when forced to put her in the car seat before they left the house.

Annie seemed to have taken right to him too. She continually reached for him, offering him an endless supply of chubby little smiles.

Dillon took the bottle from her, turning it over in his hand. “What’s so special about this one?”

“They’re designed to be easy for breastfed babies to switch between breast and bottle. It’s the shape of the nipple.”

“Janey breastfed?”

“Yeah.” At the mention of her sister, memories slid to mind, a sense of melancholy washing through her chest. She gave a slow shake of her head, remembering those awful first days after her sister’s death. She had struggled to deal with her grief while caring for a baby who seemed to somehow know her mother was gone. “I think I must have tried every other bottle and nipple combination out there. This was the only one she’d take.”

“Do you think she knows?” Dillon’s question came low and quiet, his voice etched with pain.

Emma nodded. “I think she was aware on some level that something changed. She didn’t sleep well for the first couple weeks and was real fussy there for a while.”

She paused and made herself look over at him. Dillon gazed at Annie, his face awash in pain. One of her small hands curled around his index finger, which she attempted to shove into her mouth.

“I really am sorry I didn’t contact you for the funeral.” The guilt had been eating up her stomach since she realized what she’d done two weeks ago. “You’re the only other person who loved her the way I did, and I robbed you of your chance to say goodbye.”

He glanced at her. “It must have been hard for you.”

The soft sympathy in his eyes threatened to unravel the shroud she held around herself, the one that kept her from dissolving into a river of endless tears. Her strength of will, the need to keep moving, keep pushing forward, kept her sane. If Dillon didn’t stop looking at her like that, she might give in to the emotion and let it sweep her away. Then where would she be?

She turned back to the display, looking over the teethers. Despite her previous thoughts, the words came anyway. Dillon’s body pressed lightly into her back, and the words came on a torrent of pent-up need. A need to share the pain with someone she knew would understand. To selfishly take the comfort his eyes promised.

“To be honest, Dillon, I got lost for a while. Janey was all I had, and I only had enough energy for Annie.” She drew in a shuddering breath, the pain squeezing at her chest. “I just remember standing there staring at her casket, thinking she wasn’t supposed to be there. It all felt very surreal. I kept hoping I’d wake up and she’d be fine.

“I didn’t even announce her death in the paper. I didn’t want the whole town showing up this time. I love them dearly. I love that they showed up for Mom, but it was too much. I didn’t have it in me to deal with that this time. I wanted a private service, family only.”

There were only two cemeteries for the entire county, both of which sat ten miles outside of town. It wasn’t in the center of town, where everybody would pass it, and she’d counted on that fact. The cemetery itself contained miles of land, and the service took place darn near dead center. The funeral director had agreed to keep the funeral private. She was forever grateful to that kind little man for his help.

Dillon’s hands slid onto her shoulders, a gentle comforting weight. “I’m sorry as hell you had to go through that by yourself.”

Tears pricked at the backs of her eyelids. “Three days later, I was in her room when I found that note. That’s when I realized I’d forgotten all about you. I came down as soon as I could get time off. I thought for sure you’d angry with me.”

Dillon’s head came down beside her ear, his voice a soothing murmur. “I’m not mad. You’re here now. That’s what counts. Okay?”