The Baby Surprise / The Father for Her Son

“Then it’s probably time he was.”

“She’s going to be wanting dinner soon,” she suddenly realized. “And I didn’t tell him what to feed her.”

“I’m sure he’ll manage,” Cam told her.

But Paige wasn’t nearly as certain.

“Do you remember the first time you babysat Emma?” Ashley asked her.

She nodded. “I didn’t have a clue.”

“And Emma couldn’t say a word to tell you if she was hungry or thirsty or tired.”

“She doesn’t say much now,” Paige noted.

“Well, Zach looks to me like a man who’s capable of figuring things out. But if you’re really not comfortable with the situation, why don’t you go home, too?”

“Because I want to be here when Megan’s baby is born.”

“Well, if you’re determined to stay, then stop chewing your nails. You’re making me nervous.”

She flushed and pulled her hand away from her mouth again.

Baby steps, Zach reminded himself as he sat Emma on top of the toddler slide.

He had to be patient, to give both Paige and Emma time to get to know him and feel comfortable with him. Unfortunately, that might take more time than he had.

His heart had torn wide open the first time Emma looked at him and started to cry. As ridiculous as he knew it was, he felt as if she’d rejected him. Just the latest in a string of women who had done so.

Heather was the first. Of course, he’d been a lot younger then and his emotions much more vulnerable. She’d been a model, stunningly beautiful, and he’d been blinded by lust. They’d dated for almost two years, and she’d seemed happy enough to be with him so long as he worked around her schedule. She’d even told him that she loved him. But when Zach got his first overseas assignment and their relationship was no longer convenient, she’d unceremoniously dumped him.

The first heartbreak had been as bitter as first love had been sweet, and losing Heather had taught him a valuable if painful lesson. Since then, he’d guarded his heart.

He’d had relationships with other women, of course, but because of his career, none were long-term or serious. His relationship with Olivia had been no different, despite the fact that a baby had been born of it. And yet it hurt to realize that Olivia had rejected him and any efforts he would have made to be a father to their baby by refusing to even tell him about her pregnancy.

Yeah, she’d changed her mind—too many months later—but that knowledge failed to appease him. And although he knew it served no purpose, he couldn’t deny that he was angry with Olivia—furious at the way she’d first cut him out and then blindsided him with the information that he was a father.

Emma slid down the gentle slope, her face split with a wide grin, her blue eyes sparkling. When she giggled it was the purest and happiest sound he’d ever heard. And in that moment, looking at the beautiful little girl Olivia had given birth to, all his residual anger was washed away by a tide of joy and love so huge it took his breath way.

He caught her at the bottom of the slide and it was only when she wriggled that he let her go. He wanted to gather her in his arms and lavish her with all the love and attention he hadn’t been able to give her in the first fourteen months of her life. Of course, he had to get past not just Emma’s uncertainty but Paige’s wary protectiveness first. Definitely not an easy task.

However, he’d never been one to shirk from a challenge.

Except when that challenge was a phone call from his youngest sister, he amended as the phone in his pocket trilled again and Zach ignored it again.

He’d never admit it to her face, but he missed her like crazy and, more than anything when he’d come home from Afghanistan, he’d been looking forward to going out to California and seeing not just Hayden but his whole family again. He hadn’t actually canceled those plans so much as he’d delayed them, and he didn’t want to delay for much longer.

Emma had an extended family who wanted to meet her.

Or they would, when he finally figured out how to tell them that he was a father.

It was past midnight before Paige finally left the hospital, and despite her pleasure at seeing both her cousin and the brand-new baby doing well, she felt tense and uncertain as she drove toward home. She didn’t realize it was worry over Emma that had lingered with her until she got close enough to the house to confirm that her car was in the driveway. She didn’t have to go much farther than that to find both Emma and Zach.

The baby was curled up on one end of the sofa, her favorite blanket clutched in one little fist, the thumb of the other hanging out of her mouth. Zach was on the floor, his back against the sofa. His legs were out straight, his head was tipped back, and one of his hands was resting protectively on the sleeping child’s back. At any other time, the peaceful scene might have warmed her heart, but she was too busy gaping at the chaos around them to fully appreciate the serene image of man and child.

She took another slow and careful survey of the room, stunned. Okay, so maybe she’d wondered how he would fare on his own with the little girl, and maybe she’d even hoped that Emma wouldn’t make things too easy for him. She hadn’t expected the living room to look as if a Category 4 hurricane had torn through it.

But that was exactly how it appeared to Paige, with toys and plastic bowls and sippy cups and clothes and diapers—she sent up a quick prayer that they were at least clean diapers—strewn absolutely everywhere.

She must have gasped because Zach was immediately awake and on his feet, every muscle in his body on alert. He was so tall, so strong, so completely and undeniably male that, for a split second, the disaster zone faded away and there was only Zach.

His eyes locked on her, the air crackled, her skin prickled. The intensity of her reaction—the unexpected force of the attraction she felt—startled her enough that she looked away, breaking the seductive spell of those blue, blue eyes and reminding her of the chaos she’d stepped into.

“What the heck happened?” she asked, keeping her voice low so as not to wake the sleeping child while she attempted to hold her churning hormones firmly in check.

He tore his gaze from hers to glance around and winced as if he was seeing the room for the first time. “Hurricane Emma,” he muttered.

His explanation was so close to what she’d been thinking that she might have smiled if the condition of her living room didn’t make her want to cry. Instead, she just shook her head. “I need a cup of coffee.”

“Wait—”

She paused in midstep. “You’re going to tell me that the kitchen is just as bad, aren’t you?”

“Probably worse,” he admitted.

“As long as I can find the coffeepot.”

Zach took hold of her shoulders to steer her away from the kitchen, and when his hands came down on her, she jolted as if she’d been zapped by a live wire. His hands dropped away. “Why don’t you take Emma up to her bed while I make the coffee?”

She decided it was probably good advice and, ignoring the tingles that coursed through her veins in response to his touch, turned back to the sleeping child in the living room.

By the time she’d returned to the kitchen after checking Emma’s diaper and tucking her into her crib, the coffeepot was gurgling away.

“Boy or girl?” he finally asked, passing a mug across the counter to her.

For the first time since walking into the disaster zone that had once been her house—at least for the summer—she smiled. “Boy,” she answered. “Marcus Allan Richmond—for both of Megan’s and Gage’s fathers. Eight pounds ten ounces, twenty-two inches with big blue eyes and gorgeous blond curls.”

“And how’s the new mommy doing?” Zach lifted his own mug to drink.

“She’s great. Amazing. Overjoyed. And Gage was so thrilled with both his wife and new baby, he actually cried.”

“I’ll bet you did, too,” he guessed.

“Just a little,” she admitted.

“When did all of this finally happen?”

“11:47.”

Zach glanced at his watch. “You obviously didn’t hang around for very long after.”

“Long enough to congratulate the new mommy and daddy and steal a quick cuddle with the baby. But they had more than enough company to keep them busy through half of the night.”

“And—despite the fact that you called four times from the hospital—you were worried about Emma,” he guessed.

“Obviously with good reason.”

He shook his head. “Nah, she was in complete control. If you were going to worry about anyone, it should have been me.”

She smiled again. “I do appreciate you staying with her,” she said, and realized it was true. “It would have been a nightmare trying to keep her entertained at the hospital all night.”

“Instead, you came home to a nightmare.”

She closed her eyes and held a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’m trying not to think about that right now. Hopefully by morning I’ll have the energy to tackle the mess.”

“You look exhausted,” he noted. “Why don’t you head up to bed and I’ll load the dishes in the dishwasher before I head out?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You have to be at least as tired as I am.”

“I had a nap,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, you looked as if you were resting comfortably when I came in,” she noted drily.

“Believe me, your living-room floor is like a premium mattress in a five-star hotel compared to some of the places I’ve had to sleep.” Zach grinned and her heart hitched.

Honestly, the man’s smile was a potent weapon, and because Paige knew she was too weary to continue to fight, she opted for retreat. “Well, I’m looking forward to my real bed,” she said, taking her empty cup to the dishwasher.

“Go ahead,” Zach said. “I’ll lock up when I go.”

She hesitated, still not entirely sure she trusted him and yet all too aware that he’d given her no reason not to. And if he was willing to make a dent in the kitchen, she was certainly willing to let him. “If you’re sure,” she began.

“I’m sure. Good night, Paige.”

“Good night.”

Emma was, as usual, awake by six the next morning, which meant that Paige was, too. After changing the baby’s diaper, Paige tucked her against her hip and started down the stairs. When she stepped into the living room, she had a moment to wonder if she’d only dreamed the disaster she’d come home to the night before because the room was absolutely immaculate. Continuing on to the kitchen, she found that the same was true there.

She settled Emma in her high chair with a cup of juice and set about making a pot of coffee. Emma banged her sippy cup on the tray.

“Yes, I know you want breakfast,” she said soothingly, “but I need my caffeine kick in the morning.”

Emma banged her cup again but was somewhat appeased when Paige sprinkled a few Cheerios on her tray. She put the cereal box back in the cupboard and opened the fridge to retrieve the eggs and milk. When she closed the door again, the note tacked to it fluttered.

Please don’t call the police. I didn’t steal your car—I simply borrowed it to get to the B and B because you still have the keys to my Jeep. I’ll be back early in the a.m., but please call my cell (201-555-4757) if you need your car before then.

Zach

She set the eggs and milk on the counter before she retraced her steps to the living room, peering out the front window just in time to see her car pulling into the driveway beside the Jeep that was still parked there.

The driver’s side door of the Audi opened and Zach stepped out.

His blue eyes were shaded from the sun by dark glasses and he was casually dressed in a Just Do It T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and a pair of well-faded jeans that hugged his narrow hips. He truly was an exceptional specimen of masculinity and—judging by the speed with which Melanie Quinlan raced down her walk, practically dragging her Chihuahua behind her—she obviously wasn’t the only woman who thought so.

Though Paige couldn’t hear what Melanie said, she knew her neighbor had called out to Zach, because he turned to respond. But he didn’t chat with her for very long, since he was almost at the front door when Paige pulled it open.

Zach smiled and her pulse leaped.

“I’m not too early, then?” he said by way of greeting.

“No. Emma is an early bird.”

“And you’re not,” he guessed.

“I never used to be, but I’ve learned to adapt.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your morning,” he said, “but I wanted to get your car back before you needed it.”

“I was just going to make some eggs if you wanted to join us.”

“I didn’t come over here to be fed,” he protested, though not very vehemently.

“And if I wasn’t already planning on making breakfast, I wouldn’t have offered to feed you,” she told him.

“In that case, I’d love some eggs,” he replied, and followed her into the kitchen.

Emma’s face lit up when she saw him, and Zach’s heart melted. “Ack! “ she said, which was apparently her interpretation of his name and which she followed with her favorite word, “Pawk.”

He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Maybe later,” he told her, then, “Mmm, that coffee smells great.”

“You know where the mugs are,” Paige said. She dug his keys out of her purse and set them on the counter. “I completely forgot we’d switched vehicles last night.”

“Not a problem,” he assured her, reaching around her to open the cupboard door.

As he did, he caught a whiff of her scent. It was subtle, with just the slightest hint of vanilla, which made him think it was probably a lotion rather than perfume. Of course, that brought to mind images of Paige smoothing lotion over her naked skin, running her hands up her long legs, down her slender arms, over her—

“Scrambled?”

The question jolted Zach out of his fantasy. “What?”

“Your eggs.” She continued breaking them into a bowl. “Do you like them scrambled?”

“Sure,” he said and filled his mug from the pot.

She splashed some milk into the bowl with the eggs, added a dash of salt and pepper and picked up the whisk.

Zach sipped his coffee.

Paige poured the mixture into a frying pan. “Did you bring in a cleaning crew after I went up to bed last night?”

“Not necessary,” he said. “It looked a lot worse than it was.”

“Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical about that.”

He grinned. “Okay, it was pretty bad, but my mother taught me to always pick up after myself.”

“Well, it was a pleasant surprise to wake up this morning and not have to face the chaos I saw last night.”

“If you were impressed with a little tidying, you should see what I can do with a bed.”

The inadvertent innuendo cracked between them, sizzling in the air like the eggs in the pan.

Paige’s cheeks turned pink, confirming that she had taken the same mental detour he had. And he found himself wondering if her thoughts had drifted in that direction even half as often as his had. And if they had—if they were both feeling this tug of attraction—what the heck were they going to do about it?

Nothing. He answered his own question firmly. Definitively.

He cleared his throat. “I meant that I can make up a bed so tight that a quarter tossed down on the middle of the mattress will bounce six inches,” he explained.

Paige just nodded and kept her focus on the eggs in the pan, while he tried to block out the mental image of bouncing on a mattress with her. Because how completely inappropriate was that? And why did he, even knowing it was completely inappropriate, find the idea so damned appealing?

He pushed the thought out of his mind and asked, “Can I help you with anything?”

“You can butter the toast,” she said, just as it popped out of the toaster.

Zach was grateful for the task because it gave him something to do with his hands so that he couldn’t give in to the urge to reach for her and determine once and for all if the attraction he felt was mutual.

Unfortunately, the task didn’t keep his mind as occupied as his hands, and his thoughts continued to wander. And although he couldn’t deny that several of those thoughts touched upon plans for getting Paige naked, he found himself simply enjoying the morning routine. Working with Paige to put breakfast on the table, retrieving the sippy cup Emma kept throwing to the ground, dodging the bits of toast and egg that she threw at him, then helping Paige tidy up the kitchen again when they’d finished their meal.

Their conversation was easy—although they were both careful not to make any mention of Emma’s paternity—and he found himself relaxing in her company. Not that he was completely relaxed—how could he be when he was so keenly aware of her presence, her every movement and every breath?

No doubt about it—twenty-three months was a long time for a man to go without the pleasures of female companionship, yet he hadn’t been aware of how very long it had been, and he certainly hadn’t felt so acutely deprived until he met Paige. Which meant that he didn’t want sex as much as he wanted Paige.

And that, he knew, was a big complication.

After the kitchen was cleaned, Paige left Zach with another cup of coffee while she took Emma upstairs to get her washed up and changed. When they came back down again, he pushed away from the table.

“I have to check out of Hadfield House,” he said. “The clerk wasn’t at the desk when I left this morning.”

“You’re leaving?” Paige wasn’t sure why she was surprised or why his words caused something that felt like a pang of disappointment. After all, ever since he’d shown up at her door she’d been hoping he would turn around and leave again. But she’d started to get used to having him around; she’d started to believe he actually planned to stay. Of course, she should have realized that as soon as she began to count on someone, it was a cue for him to leave.

“Just leaving the B and B,” he told her. “When I first checked in, I didn’t know how long I would be staying and the clerk didn’t think to mention that they were booked for the holiday weekend.”

“So where are you going?”

“I’ll try one of the hotels in town.”

So he wasn’t leaving town after all, she realized, strangely relieved by that fact. Maybe he would turn out to be a man that she—that Emma, she hastily amended—could count on. Still, Paige hesitated a moment before she said, “There’s a spare room here.”

Zach paused with his hand on the door. “Are you just sharing information or offering to let me stay with you?”

She hadn’t intended to invite him to stay, but she felt guilty for attempting to thwart his every effort. Or maybe she felt that she owed him because he’d been so great with Megan the day before, not to mention that he’d cleaned up her house.

Yes, he’d been at least partially responsible for the mess in the first place, but his efforts were commendable. And he really did seem to want to get to know Emma and to be willing to take things slowly for the little girl’s sake, and Paige found that she couldn’t—in good conscience—continue to stand in his way.

Whatever her reasons, she simply shrugged, as if her offer wasn’t a big deal. “You seem intent on hanging around here most of the time anyway.”

“I’d be more than happy to get out of your hair, but you panic any time Emma is even out of your sight.”

She couldn’t deny it was true. “I don’t know you well enough to trust you yet,” she reminded him. “Maybe staying under the same roof will change that.”

“Then I’ll accept the offer,” he said. “Because I know you have no reason to want to help me and all kinds of reasons not to.”

“I’m doing it for Emma,” she said. “Because if it turns out that you are her father, I want her to have a relationship with you.”

“Do you really still doubt that I am?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It only matters what the DNA test reveals.”

“How long did you say it would take to get the results?”

“Because we’re using a private lab, probably not more than a week or ten days.”

“When did you say we can get it done?”

“Cameron said he can squeeze us in right after lunch on Monday.”

“That would be good,” Zach said.

For him, maybe. Paige would prefer to do the test … never. But that was an emotional and selfish response. This wasn’t about her and the potential repercussions for her life—it was about Emma, and she truly did want what was best for Olivia’s daughter.

“I’ll head over to the B and B now to settle up and be back here in about an hour. Then—” he glanced at Emma, who was sitting in an Elmo chair and turning the thick pages of a favorite book “—maybe I can take Emma to the p-a-r-k.”

Although Paige knew logically that a fourteen-month-old with a very limited vocabulary couldn’t possibly spell, she also knew that Emma had an unerring instinct about some things, which she proved when her head shot up in response to Zach’s comment. “Pawk?”

Zach’s brows lifted. Paige shrugged.

“Later,” he promised.

Later, when Zach and Emma had gone to the park, Ashley brought a plate of frosted brownies over to Paige.

“I had a craving,” she offered the explanation along with the squares.

“Thank you.” Paige’s mouth was already watering and her gratitude was sincere. “But how does your craving lead to me getting brownies?”

Ashley followed her into the kitchen. “Because I satisfied my craving, and because it will be something completely different that I have to have tomorrow, I thought I would share.”

Paige peeled back the plastic wrap and snuck a square out from under the cover.

“You could offer me a cup of tea in exchange for the goodies,” Ashley suggested, settling at the table.

“Oh. My.” Paige’s eyes closed as she bit into the chocolate and pure bliss exploded on her tongue. “All you want is a cup of tea? I’d be willing to give up one of my kidneys for chocolate this good.”

Ashley smiled. “Been a while since you had some?”

They both knew she wasn’t referring to chocolate. Paige popped the rest of the brownie into her mouth as she turned on the tap to fill the kettle. “I’m not even sure I could tell you how long.”

Her cousin removed the cover from the plate. “Dig in.”

Paige tossed teabags into the pot and retrieved a couple of mugs from the cupboard before she helped herself to another brownie.

“Speaking of sex,” Ashley said. “Did I see Zach come in here with a duffel bag?”

“I’m not sure I follow your segue,” Paige said cautiously.

Her cousin smirked. “You look at Zach Crawford the way a sexually deprived woman looks at a plate of double-chocolate fudge brownies.”

Paige turned away from her cousin’s knowing gaze to pour boiling water into the teapot. “Hadfield House was booked for the weekend and because Zach is spending most of his time here anyway, it made sense for him to take the spare room.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Ashley said. “I’m just … surprised.”

“Surprised that I could be reasonable?”

Her cousin’s lips twitched, as if she was fighting against a smile. “Well, you haven’t exactly been reasonable since Zach showed up.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No,” Ashley admitted, her hand moving instinctively, protectively, to cover her rounded belly. “Because I know you wouldn’t love that little girl any more if you’d given birth to her, and because I know I would fight to my last breath against anyone who threatened to take my baby.”

“Speaking of babies,” Paige said, eager to change the subject. “Have you seen Marcus today?”

“I just came from the hospital,” Ashley said. “And though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, he’s even more beautiful than he was yesterday.”

“And the new mommy?”

“Radiant but exhausted. Apparently the baby woke up every two hours in the night to nurse.”

Paige winced. “I can’t imagine.”

“Gage offered to give him a bottle so she could sleep, but Meg is determined to ensure that Marcus has the best start and she believes breastfeeding is crucial to that and giving him a bottle at this stage could create nipple confusion and—as you can imagine—after a few more minutes of listening to her exceptionally detailed reasoning, Gage’s eyes started to glaze over.”