The New Baby. Brenda Mott
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hair, now that a pretty blonde is in the room.” He winked, then turned his attention back to the chessboard, focused on his next move.
“Still playing alone, I see.” Amanda gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
“Darned right. Ain’t gonna play with nobody else, especially Charlie.” He looked up at her once more, his blue eyes bright beneath the ball cap he always wore. “He cheats you know.”
“So you’ve told me.” She gave his shoulder a final pat. “Well, I’m off for a cup of coffee. See you later.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a bottle of Southern Comfort tucked away in that employee’s lounge, now would you, honey?” Zeb arched one brow, eyes twinkling. It was a game he’d played with her since day one. Craving in jest the drink he’d given up long ago.
Amanda played along. “Nice try.” She pointed her finger in mock reprimand. “Behave yourself, now, or I’ll tell Charlie you’ve invited him out here to be your opponent.”
“Oh, don’t you do that.” Zeb shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’ll be good.”
Amanda laughed, then headed for the lounge. By the time she’d grabbed a cup of coffee and started back across the day room toward her office, Zeb was no longer alone.
Her chest gave a little hitch at the sight of the man seated near his elbow. She’d guess his age to be either side of thirty. His long legs, clad in faded jeans, stretched out in front of him, the toes of his work boots peeking out from beneath the table. Like Zeb, he wore a ball cap with a farm product insignia on the front. The blue denim of his shirt looked worn to the point of comfort, and his hair showed beneath the cap just enough for her to see it was a warm shade of brown. But it was his eyes that had her heart doing a funny little blip. Deep, chocolate-brown with thick, dark lashes, they studied her as though he were intent on reading her mind.
No one should look that sexy in a work shirt and John Deere cap.
Amanda forced herself to look away. “Hey, Zeb, did you find yourself a chess partner after all?” With a will of their own, her eyes darted back to focus on Zeb’s companion.
A deep chuckle rumbled in the man’s chest, and when he grinned, dimples creased his cheeks. “Not me. Papaw’s too much competition for my liking.” His southern drawl slid over her like melted butter. His statement was accompanied by a wink, not flirtatious, but one that left her feeling as though the two of them shared a secret.
“This here’s my grandson Ian,” Zeb said. “The one who gave me this.” He indicated the chess set with a wave of his hand. “Ian, meet Miss Kelly, my favorite nurse. She’s Olivia Satterfield’s granddaughter. Y’all were too far apart in age to play together back then, or you might remember her.”
Ian half rose from the chair to briefly grip her hand. His palm curled around hers, warm, callused. The hand of a working man. “Ian Bonner,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Kelly. I’m sorry I don’t remember you.”
“Amanda.” She tried not to stare. But his eyes…good Lord, talk about tall, dark and handsome. “Amanda Kelly. And it’s nice to meet you, too, Ian.”
“He brought contraband.” Zeb spoke in a stage whisper, one hand shielding the side of his mouth. With the other, he hooked his thumb in the direction of a box of doughnuts on a corner of the card table.
“So I see.” Amanda pursed her lips and squirmed as she noticed Ian’s gaze lingering on her. “But since you’re not on a restricted diet,” she went on, “I suppose we can let a box of doughnuts slip by this once.”
“If you’re gonna eat ’em, you’ll have to put your teeth in, Papaw,” Ian ribbed. Then he flipped open the lid and held the box up in offering. “Would you like one?”
The tempting scent of chocolate and powdered sugar wafted over her, but she barely gave a second thought to the proffered treats. Ian Bonner was far more distracting than bakery goodies, which meant she needed to get back to work.
“No thanks. If I eat a doughnut, I’ll end up wearing it on my hiney.”
Zeb guffawed, then gave her an approving look. “Nothing wrong with your hiney,” he teased. “I doubt a doughnut or two would hurt it.”
Embarrassment filled her as Amanda realized what her comment had evoked. Ian shifted his eyes to her hips, then looked back up at her and hid a smile with obvious effort. The expression on his face made her blush even more. “You’re a masher, Zeb,” she said. “Admit it.” She shook her finger at him once more. “And don’t forget you need to take those doughnuts to your room. No food or drink allowed in the day room.”
“Spoilsport,” Zeb said. Then to Ian, “C’mon, son. I’ve got a bottle of Jack Daniel’s hidden in my closet that’ll go real nice with these doughnuts.”
“I thought that was moonshine.” Amanda’s lips twitched.
“Nope. That I hid under my bed.” Zeb began to put away his chess set, placing the pieces inside the hinged compartment of the rosewood-and-mahogany playing board.
“It’s a shame to interrupt your game,” Ian teased. But his smile was for Amanda, and she felt her face warm all over again.
“No problem.” Zeb closed the board. “I was losin’ anyway.”
IAN HATED TO LEAVE Papaw. It didn’t seem right, having him here in the nursing home when the old man had spent the better part of his life in the hills, hunting, fishing, running his small tobacco farm. But a fall from his mule had put him in the hospital with a broken hip, and Shade Tree Manor was the best place for him to recover.
“I’ve got to go now, Papaw,” Ian said, rising from the chair next to his grandpa’s bed. “I’ll be by again soon.” He tried to visit Papaw as often as possible, but for the last week or so, things at the welding shop had kept him busy enough that he’d only managed to come by twice.
Papaw waved a gnarled hand in farewell, already absorbed in watching his favorite game show. Ian smiled, noting a dab of chocolate stuck to the corner of his grandpa’s bottom lip. He tossed a paper napkin in Papaw’s lap, then crumpled up the bag that had held two cartons of chocolate milk and stuffed it into the trash can. “See ya.” He gave the old man a quick hug, then walked out into the hall to the open reception area.
There she was again. The nurse that had left his stomach doing funny things that had nothing to do with too much chocolate. Amanda Kelly. He liked the way her name sounded inside his mind. She hadn’t noticed him the last time he’d been here, but he’d sure noticed her. And when she’d walked up to Papaw’s card table this morning, he’d had a hard time keeping his eyes where they belonged. He might not have recalled seeing her years ago, but her shapely curves, pretty green eyes and blond hair definitely had his attention now.
Today she wore a pale-green blouse with her white pantsuit uniform. The blouse brought out the color in her eyes, and Ian wondered how close she was in age to his own thirty-two years. From Papaw’s earlier comment, he concluded she must be somewhat younger, certainly not older. She had her back to him at the moment, and though her jacket hid a good deal of her figure, he was sure Papaw was right. There was nothing wrong with the way she was shaped. Nothing at all.
She stood inside the nurses’ station, bent over the computer with another woman who sat at the keyboard. They talked and Amanda nodded, then picked up a stack of papers and made her way into the reception area. She glanced up at him and smiled, then averted her gaze and walked on by. He started to say something, anything that would make her stop and talk to him, but before he got the chance, one of the sheets of paper she carried slid out of her grasp and fluttered to the tile floor.
He would’ve picked it up for her, had he reached her sooner. As it was, he was but a couple of steps shy of doing so when the glass doors of the front entrance swung open and a young man and woman hurried into the building. Ian recognized the guy as Danny Taylor, who