For Baby's Sake. Janice Maynard

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For Baby's Sake - Janice  Maynard


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Uncertainty drove her nuts. Since the moment she’d received the heart-wrenching phone call about her sister’s death, life had been nothing but uncertainty.

      James took a step away, allowing her to breathe normally. He examined load-bearing walls, scribbled a few measurements on a scrap of paper and paced off the dimensions of the dining room. All the while holding the baby as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

      At last, he turned. “Shouldn’t be a problem. But you and Sybbie will need to move over to my place for a couple of nights. When I’m sledgehammering walls, it won’t be safe for you or the baby to breathe the air.”

      “What about you?”

      “I wear a mask when I’m doing demolition.”

      “I’m sure I could go to a hotel for a few nights.” The thought of sleeping under James’s roof again gave her hives.

      His scowl told her in no uncertain terms what he thought of the hotel idea. That had been one of their problems actually. James had a maddening habit of telling people what to do. The two of them had butted heads over the issue time and again.

      “Be reasonable, Lila,” he said, clearly trying for a conciliatory tone. “A hotel is no place for a baby. I have a refrigerator for formula and everything you could possibly need, save a baby bed. But you were going to have to buy that, anyway.”

      What he said made perfect sense. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. “James, um...well, considering our past...it would be—”

      He held up his hand, his expression grim. “Let me stop you right there. The past is the past, Lila. You and I were a bad match from the beginning. But we both know that now. You’re a neighbor and a friend. That’s all. What happened three years ago has nothing to do with this.”

      Her stomach curled. That was easy for him to say. James had moved on. And he hadn’t wasted any time. She’d seen him with a parade of women, each one more beautiful than the last. It wasn’t James’s feelings she was worried about. It was her own.

      James Kavanagh had no interest in bedding her again. That was clear. But she still had feelings for him, even if most of those feelings were hormones. It would be incredibly foolhardy to put herself in his path. She had Sybbie to think of now. She couldn’t afford more heartbreak.

      The trouble was, she was fresh out of options. James’s suggestion made perfect sense. But she didn’t have to like it. “Fine,” she said, trying not to sound huffy. “We’ll take you up on your kind invitation.”

      His nod was terse. “Not tonight. I have a project I promised to finish up in the morning. But I’ll help you move tomorrow evening. You can have the baby bed delivered to my house.”

      “James Kavanagh. You know I can’t do that. Gossip spreads faster than kudzu around here.”

      He shrugged. “So what? I think my reputation can handle it. Are you worried about your fancy bank job?”

      His smart-ass tone made her see red. “You always hated my job, didn’t you?”

      He leaned against the door frame, his dark-eyed gaze unreadable. “I never hated the job, Lila. I merely hated the fact that it consumed you. There’s more to life than work.”

      “Says the man with a trust fund. Some of us need a little security.”

      The sudden silence mushroomed between them. Here they were, three full years after the nuclear detonation of their relationship, still fighting the same tired battle.

      James shook his head. “I didn’t mean to go there. I’m sorry.”

      “Me, either. Maybe this will work better if we pretend we’ve only known each other a few weeks.”

      He chuckled. “I don’t think I’m that good of an actor, but I’ll try. What if you order the baby bed tomorrow morning, and I’ll pick it up after work?”

      “And tonight?”

      “You can keep her upstairs with you for one night. You have a king-size bed...right?”

      “Yes.” He knew full well that she did, damn it. They had certainly made use of the big mattress and the spindled headboard.

      “Put Sybbie in with you and tuck the covers as tightly as you can under the mattress. That way she won’t be able to roll out.”

      “Okay. You’re right. That will be fine.”

      He shifted from one foot to the other. Sybbie was almost asleep, her tiny eyelids drooping. “Is that all?” James asked. “I need to get back to work.”

      Lila flushed. She had asked him to treat her like a virtual stranger. But she hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. “Of course,” she said brightly. “Let me take her from you.”

      James seemed almost reluctant to give up the little girl. Maybe he thought Lila wasn’t capable of being a competent caregiver. When the baby passed from him to her, James’s fingers brushed Lila’s breasts. It was a simple contact. Unavoidable. Fleeting at best.

      Even so, her body’s instinctive reaction told her the next few weeks were going to be a challenge. She’d gotten over James Kavanagh once. She didn’t have it in her to do it again.

      James got out of bed, thirsty, at 3:00 a.m. As he stood in the bathroom and downed a glass of water, it was impossible to ignore the fact that a light burned in Lila’s upstairs bedroom window. Hell. The baby must be awake.

      It wasn’t any of his business. It wasn’t his concern.

      He could give himself all the lectures in the world, but it wasn’t going to change the facts. Lila was in trouble, and he needed to fix things.

      Wasn’t this the theme of one of their many fights? She was a grown woman who wanted to take care of herself.

      But tonight was different. Being a new parent was hard and scary for almost everyone. Especially a woman with a kid who wasn’t even her own...a child who had been thrust willy-nilly into the middle of Lila’s perfectly manicured life.

      Cursing beneath his breath, he pulled on a pair of pants and shoved his feet into leather slippers. It was in the thirties outside. He found a clean button-up shirt and threw his leather jacket on over it.

      Then he stopped, stymied by how to get past this next hurdle. If he rang the doorbell at this ungodly hour, he might scare Lila to death. Even worse, if the baby was finally on the verge of sleep. Lila would string him up by his toes if he woke little Sybbie.

      There really was only one logical choice. He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t want to admit he still had Lila’s phone number. It wasn’t a thing. He’d just never gotten around to deleting it.

      Quickly, he typed a text:

      I see your light on. Would you like me to come hold the baby so you can sleep for a few hours? I was up anyway.

      He leaned against the wall beside the window, looking for a reaction. Nothing happened. It was possible that Lila had left her phone downstairs. Or maybe it was turned off. Damn.

      Suddenly, his phone dinged.

      Yes! Please. I suck at this.

      He laughed out loud. That was one thing he’d always loved about Lila, her sense of humor. He ran down the stairs and out the side door, oddly unconcerned that it was the middle of the night. He didn’t require a lot of sleep, anyway. Helping out with little Sybbie wouldn’t be a hardship.

      On Lila’s porch, he paused, but she was at the door ready to let him in. When he saw her, he had to hold back a chuckle. She was undeniably disheveled. She had tried to put her hair up in a ponytail, but the baby must have grabbed it, because one whole side was falling down.

      On


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