The Baby Consultant Page 4

  April laughed, clearly delighted, and Frannie thought bitterly that he could get most women to do just about anything. Too bad for him, she wasn’t most women. Anymore.

  “April, take a break. Go drink a soda, take a walk, go in the house and watch a soap opera,” Frannie told her.

  April’s eyes rounded. “Yes, ma’am.” She laid down her shears and exited the workroom through Frannie’s private door.

  “Look, Frannie, I’m sorry,” Jack said.

  “No, you’re not.” Her voice was hard. “You might be sorry you weren’t able to sweet-talk me into keeping your baby, but you’re not sorry you tried to con me into the job. Do you realize how shallow you seem? You’ve spent your whole life using your charm to get women to do your bidding, haven’t you? I bet ninety percent of your clientele is female, because they’re easier for you to manipulate than other men.”

  “You’d lose the bet.” His voice was as chilly as hers was heated.

  “You never expected me to refuse, did you? You just assumed that because I loved your baby—and yes, I admit I’m wild about children—I’d be happy to help you out once you batted your eyes at me and smiled.” She held open one of the doors leading to the shop out front. “Too bad for you I’ve met charmers before. As a breed, you’re distinctly unimpressive. Now, if you’ll leave, I have work to do.”

  Jack’s face was grim. He hesitated for a moment, and Frannie was shaken by the black fire in his eyes. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

  He moved toward the door, and again she was struck by how graceful he was for a big man. As he reached her, she stepped back so he could pass, but he paused, forcing her to look up to meet his eye. And even though she knew he was deliberately using his size to intimidate her, she quailed inwardly. She only hoped it didn’t show, and she lifted her chin higher in defiance.

  “You’re wrong about me, but you were right about one thing. I’m not sorry I tried to con you into keeping Alexa. My biggest concern is finding someone who will love her as much as I do. I knew she’d be safe—and loved—with you.”

  He turned and brushed through the doors, and her whole body sagged as the angry electricity in the air went with him.

  She absolutely could not stand him. She should be pleased with herself that she had stood up to him. Instead, his final words echoed in her ears, making her feel small and mean—and guilty.

  The rat. He probably knew exactly what he was saying, and how it would affect her.

  The match was tied, 3 to 3. As he sprinted down the lacrosse field, one eye on the lacrosse ball, Jack caught his attention wandering away from the game. It wandered toward the same place it had about every thirty seconds throughout the match—toward the bleachers off to the right, where Frannie Brooks had sashayed her little butt up onto a bench right before the game began.

  He’d been so shaken up when he first saw her that the coach had to call his name three times to get his attention. What in tarnation was she doing at his match? He was positive he’d never seen her here before. For about ten minutes, he’d entertained the fantasy that she’d sought him out, that she had come to apologize for the things she’d said almost two weeks ago—eleven days, if anybody was counting.

  Which he wasn’t. The opinion of one girl with wide, serious eyes, the most kissable mouth he’d ever seen and incredibly sexy legs didn’t matter one whit to him.

  After a few minutes of watching her, while waiting for the match to begin, he realized that she was with the sister of one of his teammates, Dee Halleran—no, she was married now. Or at least she had been. Her brother had said she was divorced.

  Just then, Dee said something to Frannie as she turned and pointed straight at him. Frannie looked at him, too, and he saw the shock in her face. There was no way she had known he would be here, he could tell, and she apparently hadn’t recognized him beneath his face mask. Dee waved, but he pretended he didn’t see her as the coach gathered the players for last-minute strategy. It must be simple chance that Dee had invited her to come along. He knew they were acquainted because Dee had been the one to refer Frannie to him.

  Just then, another attackman passed off to him. He caught the pass easily with his stick and barely had time to send it hurtling toward the goal before the center from the opposing team came at him with bared teeth and narrowed eyes, slamming him hard in the chest and knocking him to the ground.

  A scream went up from the sidelines. His teammates were dancing around—ridiculous behavior for a bunch of big guys in face masks—and one man extended a hand to help him off the ground. “Way to go, buddy!” He pounded Jack on the back.

  Jack winced. He was getting too darn old for this sport. He’d said that every year for the past five, but this year he meant it. Next season, the only way he’d be stepping onto a lacrosse field was as a coach.

  Turning toward the bench, he gathered his stuff into his oversize duffel. Now where the heck was the woman who was watching Lex? She’d reluctantly agreed to keep Alexa during the matches so that he could finish the season, and he knew why. She was as competitive as her husband. If Jack didn’t play and the lineup changed at this late date, it would shake everybody’s confidence. And that would be a bad thing right before the championships.

  He spotted the woman’s blond hair at the far end of the bleachers. Shouldering his duffel, he headed her way.

  “Hey, there,” the sitter said as he approached. “I think your kid needs to be changed.”

  She held Alexa out and plopped her into his arms, then slipped the diaper bag over his shoulder atop the duffel as he peered down at the baby, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Though she did indeed smell as if a diaper switch was in order.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” Her husband came up behind her, turning her into his arms and kissing her. “Does that baby make you nervous?”

  “You know it.” She laughed. “It’s going to be a few more years before I’m ready for the kind of commitment a baby takes.”

  He smiled down at her in an intimate manner that Jack envied. “I think we need a few more years to practice, anyway, just to be sure we’re going about making babies the right way.”

  They had their arms around each other’s waists as they walked away. It was easy to admit he envied them. He’d wanted that kind of closeness once, and for a while he thought he had it. A short while.

  But he didn’t want to go down memory lane tonight. What he wanted was to talk to Frannie Brooks. Actually, he’d almost be content with the view, he thought, assessing her legs exposed by the shorts she wore. He stopped beside Deirdre, who was talking to her brother.

  As he smiled at the two women before him, he was feeling a little jumpy around the edges. Much as he hated to admit it, he owed Frannie an apology. He’d been planning to call her, but this was better.

  “Hi, Jack.” Deirdre greeted him with a warm smile, her heart-shaped face lighting up. She looked... worn down. Not just tired from too little sleep, but wiped out, as if she was running on nerves, having depleted her reserves of energy. Surveying her two little boys, who were racing up and down the field with a couple of sticks they’d sneaked off with when the owners weren’t looking, he could see why. Those two would keep anybody on the edge of insanity.

  “Hi, Dee.” Wrapping his free arm about her shoulders, he gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. “How are you?” It wasn’t a routine courtesy; he was concerned. He’d known her since they were kids, and he knew things hadn’t turned out well between her and the jerk she had married. She hadn’t been to a game all season, which was unusual in itself.

  “Passable.” She brushed off his query and indicated the woman standing silently to one side. “You’ve met Frannie, I believe.”

  “Hello, Jack.” Her voice was quiet but not as frigid as he’d expected. Or as frigid as he deserved, maybe. She had been right to be ticked off by his assumption that she could fit a baby into her schedule more easily than he could. He couldn’t figure how he’d come to that idiotic conclu
sion; fatigue was his only defense. He’d been so wiped out after dealing with the estate and taking on Alexa his brain cells were making faulty connections.

  “Hi, Frannie.” He should apologize, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Her little nose was so straight he thought he might have to run a finger down it just for fun, and her eyes were as flirty as ever above the lush curve of her lips, though he was pretty sure she didn’t know how she looked. She was wearing shorts of blue jeans material, with a pretty checked shirt that didn’t quite meet the waistband of the shorts. With each move she made, he caught a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, bare midriff. For some reason, even though her clothing wasn’t painted on or skimpy, she reminded him of a comic strip he’d read as a kid in which a hillbilly girl thoroughly filled out the briefest imaginable clothes. He’d always liked that comic strip.

  “How’s Alexa doing?”

  Her voice startled him. Good thing she wasn’t a mind reader. As he tried to catch her eye, he noticed that she looked at the baby rather than at him.

  “Pretty well,” he said, forcing his mind to make rational conversation. “She has her first cold, but we’re scraping along pretty well together.”

  “Lee! You may not hit your brother with that stick!” Deirdre looked over her shoulder at them as she trotted toward her sons, who were now tearing into each other with the sticks. “I’ll be back in a minute, Frannie, and then we’ll go.”

  The silence was uncomfortable after she left.

  He cleared his throat. Hurry up, Ferris, eat all the humble pie in one big bite. “Look, I’m sorry about the other week. I was a jerk and I don’t blame you for being mad—”

  “Hey, Jack! Give me a call.” One of the “groupies” who followed the team patted him familiarly on the butt as she walked by.

  He wanted to snarl at the woman to keep her hands to herself and tell her she’d grow old waiting for him to call, but as usual, the manners his father had drilled into him kicked in, and he gave the girl a wave and a smile. “Hey, Iris.”

  When he looked back at Frannie, she had a blank, polite expression on her face. “Apology accepted,” she said briskly. But in her eyes, he could see an “I told you so,” and he knew she was marking another tally of condemnation in the column labeled Reasons to Write Off Jack.

  She started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm, holding her in place. Great, Ferris, really smooth. Real polite, grabbing her like some ape in a zoo. He suddenly felt stung by the same emotion he’d felt the day she’d practically kicked him out of her store. It wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t annoyance. And it couldn’t be hurt, because he’d have to care about her for her to hurt him. But her classification of him as a...a playboy who didn’t care about women had really pushed his buttons.

  He’d thought about the encounter every day since then, examining his conscience for twinges of guilt that might identify her accusations as fact. Fact was that he liked seeing women smile, liked knowing he’d made them feel good for a few minutes in their day. Fact was that he never was rude intentionally to the fairer sex, even when they annoyed the hell out of him. Fact was that he honestly didn’t go around seducing women every place he stopped. And fact was that while he’d had his share of liaisons over the years, he wasn’t indiscriminate, and the number wasn’t in double digits, as she clearly believed.

  “You’re really wrong about this,” he said. “I’m not some kind of superman with women.”

  “I never said you were,” she pointed out.

  “Look,” he said. “I hate being at odds with people, and I don’t feel like you’re happy with me, even though you theoretically accepted my apology.”

  “There was nothing theoretical about it.”

  “Yes, there was.”

  “I told you I accepted your apology.” She glared at him.

  He knew she was serious. He wanted to be, but it was just too much. Her little chin stuck up in the air as if she were daring him to throw a punch, and her eyes were stormy. Her brown hair was straight and shiny. It framed her face and he found himself fascinated by her lips, as he’d been every time he’d seen her. She looked as kissable as any girl he’d ever met.

  “You’re going to accuse me of flirting if I say this, but I swear I’m not. You just look...really, really cute when you’re mad.”

  “I’m not mad!”

  The charged silence lasted for a long moment. Then, as he raised one eyebrow, her face melted into amusement and she laughed ruefully. “Okay, so I was mad. I’m not now.”

  “Good. Friends?” He knew as he held out his hand to shake hers that he was going to have more than friendship from her one day, that he was going to have her in his bed for a long, long time, until whatever magic she worked on him faded and friendship was all that was left. But it probably wasn’t wise to explain that to her right now.

  “Friends,” Frannie said.

  The diaper bag chose that moment to slide off his shoulder, and Jack juggled Alexa, the bag, his duffel and his stick while he hitched the strap back into place.

  She put up a hand to help him, and her fingers slipped briefly over his. Pow. There it was again, that explosion of awareness. He was aware of her in a way he’d never been of a woman before, and when he touched her skin...his own skin did some very interesting things.

  When she’d come into his office that first time, he’d noticed she was attractive in a quiet way. He’d been trying to get off the phone from...he forgot the name, but it was a woman he had no plans to call. Ever. And he wished she’d quit calling him.

  Frannie had perched sedately on a chair and a bit of leg slipped out from beneath her slim skirt, and his interest had picked up. He had decided to ask her out for dinner if her personality was as nice as her package.

  And then she’d dropped those papers and they’d knelt together on the floor picking them up. She’d paused and looked into his face—and the strongest rush of physical need he’d ever experienced hit him like a solid blow from an opponent. For two cents, he’d have taken her right there on the floor. He’d been so astonished he’d just stared at her until he realized he must be making her uncomfortable. He’d never had such a difficult time keeping a meeting on a business footing.

  She, on the other hand, had been cool and collected, interested only in what he might come up with to promote her business. She’d walked out of his office and he’d decided to hurry and get the business transaction out of the way so that he could ask her out.

  And then he’d gotten a phone call from Florida that changed his life and chased every rational thought out of his head.

  What was it about her that hit him in the gut every time she was near? She wasn’t curvy or top-heavy like most of the girls he’d dated, though her legs were nicely trim and her ankles slender. Nor was she blond, another common denominator in his past preferences. She was just... incredibly sexy. Arousing. All of his senses perked up when she got close; his body forgot he was a civilized man. He could almost smell her, although he couldn’t have described it.

  Alexa was waking up and he looked down at the baby. His baby. He was beginning to appreciate just how much his life was going to change. He couldn’t ask a woman out right now—what would he do with Alexa? He still hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave her with a sitter. She came to work with him each day, although it was getting more and more difficult as she grew and changed every week.

  “Somebody’s getting hungry again,” he said to Frannie.

  “Babies tend to do that.” She smiled. Then she hesitated. “Jack, I’ve been meaning to call you.”

  Great!

  “I’m not going to be able to use your ideas for the brochure right now. The one you came up with would be lovely, but I just can’t swing it right now.”

  Deirdre, sons in tow, was advancing across the grass toward them. He couldn’t think. As Alexa began to voice a protest at having to wait so long for a dry bottom and a bottle, Frannie reached out and stroked a finger over one tiny hand be
fore she turned away. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

  Three

  Alexa had been extraordinarily fussy all day.

  Jack paced around the condo with her in his arms as her screams got louder and angrier. What was he doing wrong? He’d checked the usual cause of unhappiness—wet diaper—and tried a bottle, but she’d refused it. She hadn’t slept in hours.

  Neither had he, for that matter. It was almost midnight on Saturday night.

  His anxiety mounted. He thought she seemed hot, so he took off her little sleeper. Maybe that would make her happier.

  But she shrieked louder than ever. He paced around the table in his dining area so many times he was sure he’d worn a path. God, what could be wrong? He knew next to nothing about babies before Alexa. Now he knew almost next to nothing.

  He wished he had Frannie’s expertise and years of experience. He’d bet Frannie would have Lex happy and gurgling in her usual good-natured way if she were here.

  The thought barely registered in his brain before he knew what he was going to do.

  He fumbled the phone book out of the drawer, found her number and punched buttons with his thumb.

  One ring. Two rings. Oh, no, he’d forgotten it was the middle of the night. She was probably sleeping.

  Or out on a date.

  “Hello?”

  He’d never felt a rush of relief so sweet. He didn’t know whether it was because he needed help or because he knew she wasn’t out with some other guy, and he didn’t much care. “Frannie? Hi, it’s me. Jack. I’m really sorry about the time. I forgot it was so late, but the thing is—”

  “What on earth is wrong with that baby?” Her voice sounded alarmed.

  “I don’t know,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the screaming. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. I thought maybe you could suggest something.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “Please. That would be great. If it’s not too much of an imposi—”