Baby Business. Karen Templeton
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“And how long have you been here?”
“In this house? Two years, give or take. I was previewing it for a client and decided to buy it myself.”
“I don’t blame you, it’s really spectacular.”
“What it is, is an investment. In five years, it’ll be worth twice what I paid for it, easily.” The muscles in his face eased, though, when he said, “Funny, though, how I wasn’t even looking for a house.” He tore off a tiny piece of cheese and threw it either to or at the cat, Dana couldn’t tell “Anymore than I was looking for a cat. But I opened the door one stormy night, just to smell the rain, and this soaking wet thing—” another piece of cheese rocketed through the air “—ran inside. And never left. Right, Steve?”
“Steve?”
C.J. shrugged. “It seemed to fit, what can I say?”
The microwave dinged. She retrieved her pizza and leaned against the counter to eat it standing up. “You don’t strike me as a cat person.”
“I’m not.” He tossed Steve a piece of pepperoni. Dana could hear the cat’s purr from clear across the kitchen.
“You could have taken him to the pound, you know.”
“Not once I’d named him.”
“Of course.”
He chuckled. “You—” he stabbed the air with his pizza crust for emphasis “—don’t like cats.”
She smirked. “I think it’s more that they don’t like me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I’ve had, at various times in my life, three cats. They’ve all run away.”
“Don’t take it personally. Cats are just like that sometimes.”
“My point exactly. At least with birds you put them in a cage, and there they stay.”
“Unless they get out. And birds aren’t real good at coming when you call.”
“Oh, and cats are?”
“When it suits their purpose, sure. But Steve’s the perfect roomie. Food, water, a patch of sunlight, access to my bed,” he said with a slanted grin, “and he’s good. And best of all, there’s none of that messy emotional stuff to weigh us down.”
“Ah. One of those no-strings, you-just-sleep-together relationships.”
“Like I said. Perfect.”
“Are you deliberately trying to annoy me or what?”
“Nope. Just tellin’ it like it is. Although, as I said, Steve dumped me for you tonight.”
She blinked, his earlier words finally sinking in. “What?”
“You didn’t notice? When I peeked in on you—”
“When you what?”
“I thought the baby might’ve awakened you, so I looked in to check. Anyway, there the cat was, plastered right up against you, happy as a clam. Not that I blame him.” He grinned, heat lazily flickering in half-hooded eyes.
Dana huffed. “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?”
“What can I tell you, it’s late, my defenses are down.”
Even if other things aren’t.
Bad enough that the unsaid words practically rang out in the cavernous room without Dana’s having no idea whose unsaid words they were.
Brother.
“So, shopping,” he said, scattering the unsaid words to the four winds. “What time do you have to be at work?”
And so it began. The great baby-and-work shuffle. Because their momentary sharing of living space notwithstanding, it wasn’t as if either of them could drop everything to stay home with a baby. The situation was still more expedient than living separately, perhaps, but far from ideal.
“Nine. Or thereabouts. I have to drop the baby off at my mother’s first.”
“Yeah, I’ll be gone by eight, so I guess the morning’s out.” Then his forehead knotted. “I thought you said your parents couldn’t take care of him?”
“What I said was, I didn’t think they should be saddled with taking care of a child at their ages. Especially since they’ve finally gotten to the point where they can load up the RV and hit the road whenever the mood strikes. As hard as they’ve both worked all their lives, they deserve time to themselves. When I suggested looking into day care, however, my mother had a hissy and a half.”
“I bet she did. Your mother’s a real—”
“Piece of work?” Dana said around a mouth full of blissfully gooey cheese.
“I was going to say, a real she-wolf when it comes to her family.”
“Same thing,” Dana muttered, and C.J. chuckled. But she’d caught, before the chuckle, a slight wistfulness that had her mentally narrowing her eyes.
“I take it, then,” C.J. said, his hands now folded behind his head, “a nanny or an au pair wouldn’t be an easy sell, either?”
“Let a stranger look after her own great-nephew? Not in this lifetime. Trust me, you do not want to get her started on the evil that is day care.”
His gaze was steady in hers. Too steady. “But sometimes there’s no alternative.”
“Yeah, well, you know that and I know that, and God knows millions of children have come out the other side unscathed, but this is my mother we’re talking about. As far as she’s concerned—” she finished off the slice of pizza and crossed to the sink for a glass of water, only to find herself completely bamboozled by the water purifier thingy on the faucet “—a child raised by anybody but family is doomed to become warped and dysfunctional. Okay, I give up—how the heck do you get water out of this thing?”
She heard C.J. get up, sensed his moving closer. He took the glass from her hand, flipped a lever and behold, water rushed into it. Amazing.
“Thanks,” she muttered, taking a sip as he returned to his seat.
“Maybe she has a point,” he said softly, and Dana started.
“Who?”
“Your mother. After all, I was raised by nannies and look at me.”
As if she could do anything else. He’d donned a T-shirt to go with his sleep pants, but for some reason it only added to the whole blatantly male aura he had going on. And while she was looking at him, she set the glass on the counter and crossed her arms. “Your mother worked?”
A small smile touched his lips. “No. She died in a crash when I was a baby.”
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t you dare go all ‘oh, poor C.J.’ on me. I never knew her, so it’s not as if I ever missed her. We’re not talking some great void in my life, here. Okay?”
She nodded, thinking, Uh-huh, whatever you say, then said, “What about your father?”
The pause was so slight, another person might have missed the stumble altogether. “He made sure I had the best caregivers money could buy,” he said. “All fifteen of them. You want another slice of pizza?”
“Fifteen?”
“Yep. Pizza?”
“Uh, no, I’m good,” she said, and he rose to put the rest back in the fridge. Somehow, she surmised the fifteen-caretakers subject was not on the discussion list. For now, at least. “Still,” she said to his back, “I’ve known