“The baby store helped me with everything he needs, and delivered it this morning. Pack an overnight bag, then come home with me now and we’ll figure it out.”
“Come home with you?” What in the world? “No. I’ll give you my hospital schedule, and watch him here when I’m off.”
“Won’t work. Do you have any idea how much stuff a baby needs? My house is overrun with it all.”
“Sean, listen. Helping is one thing but—”
Will’s sudden, insistent crying split the air and interrupted her alarmed protest. They both looked at his reddening face before slowly turning to each other. Sean’s expression made her laugh out loud, even though hers probably looked exactly the same. “You’re looking at him like he’s an angry alien who just materialized in your arm.”
“What, and you’re not? And tell me how lungs so little can cry that loud?”
“It’s all biology and mechanics. He wants something, and his vocal cords are designed to get attention, of course.”
“Wants something.” Sean’s brows knit into a deep frown. “Which means he’s either hungry or needs changing, probably, and I left all his stuff at home.”
“You didn’t bring any food or diapers with you?”
“No, I didn’t, and there’s no need to look at me like I’m a dunce, okay? I’m new at this.”
She wanted to laugh again, truly enjoying the sight of ultra-confident, always-in-control Sean Latham completely out of his element. Not that she’d do any better when it was her turn. “You should get home, then, so you can—”
Sean’s phone rang, and he fished it from his pocket. “Oh, no,” he muttered before answering.
It didn’t take long for Bree to realize it was a hospital emergency, and Sean was being called in to do surgery. “You didn’t tell them you couldn’t be on call today while you were figuring everything out with Will?” she asked in disbelief when the call ended.
“The hospital pediatrician told me she was releasing Will and just kind of handed him over. So I took him, then came here and...well, you know.” He gave her what he probably thought was an adorable little twisted smile, and at one time she would have thought it was beyond adorable, but not anymore. She was immune to his charms.
Almost immune. Working on becoming fully immune.
“I’m really sorry, but I’ll get home as soon as I can.” He shoved the still-crying baby at her and she instinctively took him before she’d even realized what she was doing.
“What? Sean, you cannot leave him with me! I don’t even know why he’s crying, and since you weren’t smart enough to have his stuff with you—”
“Sweetheart, you’re a superstar at everything you do.” He flashed the dazzling smile that used to stop her heart. “There’s not a soul on earth I’d feel better about leaving Will with than you. I’ll see you at my house as soon as I can.”
“But, Sean...” The words came out in a high-pitched gasp, and her mouth fell open as he threw something next to the infant seat on the porch, jogged to his car and took off. She looked down to see what he’d thrown was a key. A key she knew unlocked his front door, because it was attached to a surfboard key ring she recognized as the one he’d given to her long ago. The key she’d wanted to stuff down his throat six months ago, but instead had politely—and, yes, angrily and painfully—placed in his mailbox.
She stared down into Will’s scrunched-up, squalling little face. “Just so you know, I’ll be killing your uncle later. But I guess for now you’re stuck with me.”
His wide, teary eyes stared at her for a moment before the wailing began again, as though he knew exactly how unprepared she was for this task. A sensation close to panic filled her chest, and it was ridiculous enough to make her laugh at herself. She tucked him close, knelt to get the stupid key, then stood and squared her shoulders. Hadn’t she always said life should be one big challenge and adventure?
This challenge might weigh only six pounds and be a mere nineteen inches long, but she had a feeling it just might be the most intimidating thing she’d ever had to face.
* * *
The sight of Bree’s car in his driveway did something strange to Sean’s insides. Sent his thoughts to days when she’d surprised him by showing up after work, when seeing it there had brought a smile to his face and a surge of happiness to his heart. Sent the familiar stab of pain and sorrow over her absence the past six months. And all those emotions were tangled up with the stress of Emma’s condition. The worry of how he’d manage to take care of his nephew, and how being with Bree now through necessity made him feel all kinds of jumbled, polar-opposite things.
Anxious, appreciative, relieved, angry. Pretty much every emotion in the book, covering their past, her near-death accident, her toughness afterward, and how she was stepping up now to help with Will, which he’d known she would, despite trying to get ready for her move, and her feelings about having her own kids.
And twisted emotions about their present, brief as it would be. Being with her the next couple of days was going to be bittersweet. While he knew it would be difficult and painful, some perverse, masochistic part of him badly wanted just a few more hours with the woman who’d broken his pitiful heart.
The second he pushed open the side door that led to his kitchen, the sound that hit him proved his nephew’s lungs were still in tip-top shape. Sean winced and shoved down all the emotions roiling around his chest, feeling bad for poor Bree. But misery loved company, so she’d be glad to see he was home, right? When maybe she wouldn’t have been otherwise? Thankfully the patient’s surgery he’d had to take care of had gone smoothly, so he was able to get back fairly fast, but he had a bad feeling it might not have seemed so quick to Bree.
“Hey, I’m home,” he called. It struck him how many times he’d said that to her. That from the moment he’d met her, wherever she was, in this house or somewhere else, that was where it felt as if he belonged. He’d believed he’d belong there forever. As he’d slowly gotten used to not having her around, he’d forgotten about it, mostly, until she was here again. Bringing the special energy and light that was Bree Donovan back into his life. But she’d be out of it again in just days or even hours, and he stopped to gather himself for a second. He blew out a long breath, then moved through his back hallway, trying to keep his voice cheerful and upbeat, as though he weren’t feeling a chaos of emotion in his chest. Hadn’t heard the literal sounds of chaos within the house. “How are things going?”
“Just peachy.” Her voice was strained and tense, which wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“Were you able to find—”
The sight in his kitchen had him stopping dead. There were diapers strewn on the floor, and a spilled bottle lay on the kitchen counter, its liquid half dried on the granite. The little bouncy seat the store had insisted Will needed was knocked onto its side, but thankfully the boy wasn’t inside. Bree’s back was to him as she tapped away at a laptop on the counter in front of her with surprising ferocity considering she was using just one hand. At the same time, her whole body was swaying back and forth and bobbing up and down, and her rear end in skimpy orange shorts moving sexily all around was so distracting it briefly short-circuited his brain.
“Uh, is something wrong?”
“Something wrong?” She swung around, her hair flying into her face, a crying Will clutched close to her breast. “You tell me. I’ve fed him, changed him, sang to him, put him down, picked him up, but he’s still upset. I’m looking online for more ideas on how to help him calm down, but so far no go. Do you think he could be sick?”
To his utter shock, the