A Match Made by Baby. Karen Smith Rose
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background to Adam. The chemistry between them had just seemed to trump everything else. The night they’d met she hadn’t quite been herself and had acted in a way that was out of character for her. Way out of character.
As Adam prepared coffee, she took another good look at the condo. Yep, a baby had taken over his world. But underneath that surface mess, she saw a bachelor pad. Chrome and glass and shiny black leather sent the message that a cleaning service might see the inside of Adam’s living room more often than he did. She noticed the lack of photographs.
Peeking into the kitchen, her tummy did a little somersault when she stared at his broad shoulders, his dark brown mussed hair, his tall lean frame.
Erica stirred again. With a baby in her arms, Kaitlyn was transported back to a time when her own dreams were still a possibility. She slid her finger along the infant’s cheek. The little girl was almost asleep. To put her down or let her nap in her arms?
Adam solved that dilemma. As he entered the living room with two mugs in hand, he said, “Maybe she’ll sleep in her car seat now,” in a low voice, as if afraid to bring Erica’s crying to life again.
The fact that his sister had brought the baby in in her car seat was at least a sign she had Erica’s welfare at heart. “Let’s give it a try. We can set it right here on the floor as we talk.”
His frown told her talking wasn’t high on his priority list. Because sharing made him uncomfortable? Or because he had something to hide?
Adam set her mug on the glass table beside the sofa. “Do you need milk or sugar? I’m not sure I have sugar—”
“Black is fine. Caffeine is a daily necessity. I’m a doctor, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he said as he crossed to the kitchen.
When he returned, he set the car seat on the floor between them. Kaitlyn easily transferred Erica to it then let her finger trail down the infant’s cheek once more.
“Babies can burrow a tunnel straight into your heart, and you don’t even know they’ve done it,” she murmured. Her practice had taught her that.
The silence in the living room with Erica quiet and their conversation at a standstill brought her gaze to Adam’s.
His serious green eyes seemed to see too much, but then he said, “I wouldn’t know. This is the first I’ve been around one.”
A bit flustered, she quickly picked up her coffee mug. The brew was almost black—the way she liked it.
“Weren’t you around your sister when she was a baby?” He’d given her a lead in to his background, so she took it.
“As I said, Tina’s my stepsister, and you’re going to poke around until you learn all about us, aren’t you?” He certainly wasn’t happy about it.
“Why does that bother you?”
“Because I like to keep my private life private.”
“So do I.”
He must have seen the truth behind that declaration because his defensively tense broad shoulders relaxed. “This is just your job,” he reminded himself.
“I like to think of it as a vocation.” She stared down at Erica, remembering her own pregnancy and the baby she lost. Giving herself a mental shake, she said, “Tell me when Tina came into your life.”
A myriad of memories seemed to pass through Adam Preston’s eyes, and she realized this was a man who could feel...if he’d let himself.
He took a few swallows of coffee as if to fortify himself. “This isn’t easy,” he told Kaitlyn.
“Isn’t easy, because it’s painful to remember?” she guessed.
“Not painful. It was just a rough time. Tina and I never talk about it.”
Erica began to wake up, and he said, “Maybe this should wait.”
“I can’t give you any help if this waits. Do you have a bottle? Let’s try to feed her. Maybe this time she’ll eat.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll figure out the next best thing to do.”
Scooping Erica from her car seat, Kaitlyn stood, and Adam moved close to her. So close her gaze went to his lips and she swallowed hard.
“I’ll take her,” he said, and that surprised Kaitlyn.
“Are you sure?”
“I fed her all through the night, and tried this morning. I’ve got to succeed at something about this.”
So Adam Preston wasn’t a man who accepted failure. She recognized the same quality in herself. He’d either seen too much of it in his life, or not enough.
The exchange of the baby was awkward. His hand slid close to Kaitlyn’s breast. If she could have thought of it as merely a clinical move, it wouldn’t have bothered her at all. But everything about this situation seemed personal.
It’s not personal, she chastised herself.
Adam slid his arm around the baby. But when he brought Erica close, his shoulder rubbed Kaitlyn’s. At that point, their gazes met.
The room developed a certain buzz, but then Kaitlyn hadn’t had any breakfast this morning. A half cup of dark, rich coffee, with lots of caffeine streaming through her veins would be enough to make her feel a little unnerved.
After the baby successfully found Adam’s arms again, he brought her up to his face and cooed to her. None of this was contrived. Adam must have figured out Erica liked that last night.
“So you want me to warm the bottle?” Kaitlyn asked, feeling disconcerted. How could a bachelor who serial dated be good at holding a baby? “She seems pretty satisfied right now.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I did come to help,” she said with a wink, knowing this was the kind of help he’d expected.
A few minutes later, Kaitlyn returned with the bottle. “If she doesn’t take the formula, we might have to change it.”
“I have to go to the store,” he admitted. “She needs a lot of things, and a crib’s one of them.”
“Let’s get her basic needs settled first, then we can take care of that.”
Kaitlyn saw his brows go up when she said “we,” but she meant The Mommy Club—the community of parents who wanted to help “we,” the all-inclusive “we.” Not a her-and-Adam “we.” The idea of her and Adam together in any way gave her goose bumps.
“I’m going to have to get a rocker,” he decided. “I think she’d like that while she’s eating or falling asleep.”
While Erica sucked on the bottle, Kaitlyn said, “You were going to tell me about when you met Tina.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he revealed, “I was fourteen and she was three. My dad was a widower. He met this waitress where he often had breakfast and they ended up getting married. She was a lot younger than my mom.”
“And that made you uncomfortable?”
“It made me realize Dad was going to put all of his attention toward his second family—his young wife and a three-year-old who was as cute as a button.”
“So how did you feel about her?” Resentment would have been natural.
But Adam gave her a wry smile. “Tina had these big gray eyes and straight blond hair. When she looked up at you, your heart just melted. I felt like a big brother instantly, very protective. Especially protective when my dad and Jade divorced. Tina was only eight and didn’t understand anything that was happening. She’d come to me and cry and cry and cry. That year I’d graduated and