Czytaj książkę: «The Baby And The Bachelor»

1

“I GOT YOU OUT OF BED? That figures.”

“Payne, I worked until five-thirty this morning.” Stuart Thorpe, dressed in his oldest T-shirt and khaki shorts, took the baby from his sister’s arms and watched Payne dump an armload of baby paraphernalia on his marble-tiled floor. “I’m relaxing. What do you think I’m doing on my day off?”

“Having orgies, wild parties, and other sorts of things I won’t mention,” she answered, giving him that disapproving older sister look he was very familiar with, having experienced it for all of his thirty-five years.

“My college memories are very important to me,” he teased, since Payne knew full well that he had worked too many hours studying to spend time on parties of any kind.

“You don’t have a woman asleep in there, do you?”

“No.” His sisters tended to exaggerate the extent of his social life, only because he hadn’t settled down yet, something that seemed to worry both of them. “Bambi left early to go to work at the Foxy Lady.”

Payne glared at him. “I never know if you’re joking or not. Isn’t the Foxy Lady that place where exotic dancers serve breakfast?”

“Yes, it is and yes, I’m joking. I swear. I haven’t been to the Foxy Lady since my twenty-first birthday.”

“You don’t need to,” she muttered, moving past him to deposit a fistful of bottles in his refrigerator. “Women throw themselves at you all the time. It’s ridiculous.”

“I think it’s nice.” He grinned at his niece, whose chubby fingers patted his cheek. “Uncle Stuart has lots of very pretty friends.”

“Well,” Payne said. “Keep your pretty friends away while Bree is here. I don’t want you distracted from baby-sitting.”

“Sure.” Stuart would have laughed, but he didn’t dare. He kept his family and his social life separate, so whatever lovely lady he was dating wouldn’t get the wrong idea and think there was going to be anything permanent in the future. Payne didn’t look the least bit relieved, but she couldn’t take the baby to Maine with her either, not right now.

“Do you really think you can handle this until Temple gets home?” she asked. Temple was their younger sister.

“No problem,” Stuart uttered, but he knew and his sister knew that taking care of a six-month-old baby was one hell of a job and not under the “no problem” category at all. But Stuart figured he and Bree could muddle through. “What’s an uncle for?”

“Are you sure?” Payne looked worried, but his older sister almost always looked worried. Stuart moved her toward the door.

“We’ll get along just fine.” His niece was in his arms, tugging on his earlobe as if she wanted to remove it from his head and fling it across the polished wood floor. Brianne Nicole Johnson liked to throw all sorts of things. “You brought her playpen, right?”

“It’s outside, by the door.” She paused and looked around his black-and-white living room. “This ultramodern furniture looks dangerous.”

He looked at his glass and chrome coffee table, his leather sofa and an entertainment center that had cost more than a semester at college. “It costs too much to be dangerous and besides, Bree is going to be too busy to have time to hurt herself, Payne. The activities list you gave me is two pages long.”

His oldest sister frowned again, but this time she walked toward the door. “Temple will be back in town by dinnertime. She said she’d call you from the airport and then come right over and get Bree.”

“Fine. Give me a call tonight and let me know how Phil’s mother is.”

“I will.” Now Payne looked as if she was about to cry. She loved her in-laws, and the thought of her mother-in-law in the hospital was almost more than Payne could bear, especially now, with her husband in Australia on a business trip. The three Thorpe siblings shared the same dark hair, athletic builds and dark brown eyes, but Payne was the emotional one of the family. And, as the oldest, the bossiest. “Make sure she eats on time.”

“Mummm,” the baby hummed, one chubby hand reaching out to her mother. Payne kissed her three more times and then hurried toward the door. She turned around once more and gave her brother another order. “You will make sure she takes a nap? And that her car seat is fastened correctly? And if she gets sick or anything, you can call her pediatrician. The number’s in the bag.”

“Fine.”

“And tell Temple I’m counting on her.”

“We can take care of Bree,” he assured her, knowing damn well his sisters didn’t actually believe he was thirty-five.

“Don’t forget her photo appointment at four-thirty. If she doesn’t get it done now I’ll have to wait another three months to get in. Oh, and I scheduled it between her nap and her dinner, so make sure you follow the schedule,” was Payne’s parting order.

“Will do.” Stuart shut the door and turned to Bree. “Your mom’s a real pain in the—well, you’ll figure that out when you’re fifteen.” Bree’s big brown eyes stared unblinking at him. “Then you call Uncle Stuart for help, okay?”

“Mmmm,” his niece gurgled and gave his ear another painful twist.

Stuart glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was going to be a long afternoon.

“I JUST DON’T KNOW WHERE the time goes,” Anna Gianetto muttered. She squinted at her watch. “Is it four-thirty or three-thirty?”

“Four-thirty,” Kim told her neighbor.

“Already? Ooh,” she said, fanning her ample bosom with a Providence Photography brochure. “I brought you too many things today.”

“It’s okay. My last appointment isn’t here yet.” Kim adjusted the array of children’s clothes so that the light was right and then, with Anna’s digital camera, took the picture.

“You do good work,” Pat O’Reilly said, patting Kim on the back while Anna retrieved the clothing. “You’re a good girl to do this for us.”

“I don’t mind,” she told them. She knew they were worried about her right now. Everyone was, which was more than a little disconcerting. Kim Cooper never liked being the center of attention.

“Well, you’re a good girl,” Patrick repeated.

“I know.” She winked at him. Her neighbors were like family since she’d known them almost all her life. Their venture into selling things on eBay, an online auction house, provided them with extra spending money and Kim with their company. They made her laugh, though her sister Kate thought Kim was a little bit crazy for hanging out with the elderly neighbors. “It’s a nice change from babies and cats and dogs.”

Patrick, a short, wiry man in his early eighties, shook one gnarled finger at her. “One of these days you’ll have your own babies, Kimmy, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she promised. Two years ago, when Jeff broke off their engagement and said he “couldn’t commit,” she’d believed her family’s declarations that life held all sorts of wonderful surprises and all she had to do was stay cheerful. Recently she’d decided that maybe her life was simply going to be one long day after another. The men her sister had tried to fix her up with hadn’t been the least bit interesting—or maybe, to be fair, the men themselves weren’t interested in a nonglamorous version of her twin.

“You should get out more,” Anna said. “You spend too much time by yourself.”

“I will,” she promised, as she did every time her neighbors came to the studio. “I promise.”

“Robbie likes you,” Anna said. “He stops by from that gym of his sometimes, you know. ‘Aunt Anny,’ he says, ‘what am I doin’ wrong that Kim won’t marry me?”’

“I’m not in love with him, Anna.” Kim secretly thought Robbie, a competitive weight lifter, was more in love with his own body than wanting anything to do with hers. Anna, determined to take care of her young neighbor, had a legion of nephews she’d thought were “just right” for Kim.

“You could try harder. Women shouldn’t wait so long to get married these days,” Anna advised. She put the carefully folded clothing into a brown shopping bag. “That’s why they have trouble having babies, now. Their eggs are old. That’s not the way it was in our day. I got pregnant on our honeymoon.”

“Yeah,” Pat said. “Mary and I had our first boy when we were twenty.” He frowned, trying to remember. “Or maybe it was nineteen. My memory sure as heck isn’t what it used to be.”

“It’s too bad that things are different now,” Kim said, hoping her own eggs would give her a few more optimistic years before drying up. She was only twenty-six, not exactly middle-aged, so shouldn’t those little suckers be thriving? “Maybe I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Nonsense,” Pat said.

“Give me the old days,” Anna said. “When men were men.”

“And women were women,” Patrick added with a sigh. Kim often wished she could have seen what he looked like when he was younger. She suspected he’d been as handsome as sin and twice as charming. “No one even bakes anymore.”

“Hey,” Anna said. “You come by and I’ll make anise cookies for you.”

“Me, too?” Kim had a weakness for her neighbor’s Italian specialty.

“Sure, honey. We’ll have ourselves a little party,” Anna declared, satisfied that she had stuffed everything into her shopping bag.

“We’d better get out of here, Anna.” Pat jerked his thumb in the direction of the reception area. “Kimmy has real work to do now.”

They all looked toward the open door and heard a baby fussing and a low male voice trying to soothe—Kim searched her memory—Brianne Johnson.

“Hello?” the man called, sounding a little flustered. It was unusual for a father to arrive for a baby’s first photo. She hoped Brianne’s mother was out there, too, so the little girl would calm down.

“Coming!” Kim hurried over toward the door, a welcoming smile on her face. Her specialty was babies, while Kate did the glamour shots and more artistic projects. And this baby, she saw, was especially gorgeous. She had dark curling hair and big brown eyes, and a dimple in her left cheek when she stopped fussing and smiled at Kim.

“How did you do that?” the father said, and that’s when Kim’s gaze lifted to the man’s face. His very familiar face. At first she didn’t think she believed what her brain was trying to tell her: Stuart Thorpe was standing eight feet away.

“Do that?” she echoed, her mind blank except for one thought: Stuart Thorpe was holding a baby.

“Kim?” he said, his beautiful mouth turning into a smile. “Kim Cooper?”

“Yes,” she managed to gulp. He would never in a thousand lifetimes mistake her for her twin, of course. No one ever had, not since they were in elementary school. She made an attempt to brush her hair back with her hand and then gave up. Stuart Thorpe still wouldn’t notice her unless she was blond, busty and running her hands over his chest—none of which was likely.

“It’s been a long time,” Stuart said, adjusting his grip on the baby so she wouldn’t wriggle out of his arms.

“Years,” she agreed. He looked as handsome as ever, she noted with some disappointment. He hadn’t lost any of that thick dark hair. He hadn’t gotten fat. He still looked good in anything he wore, even a rumpled polo shirt and shorts that looked as if Brianne had spilled six or seven spoonfuls of baby food on them.

“Five or six years, at least,” he repeated, looking dazed. “How are you? And your sister Kate?”

“We’re both fine.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Stuart said, which wasn’t the most flattering thing he could say. Kim knew she had been an awkward, innocent and terribly shy art student with a passion for photography and a secret crush on a young doctor in the apartment downstairs. And she hadn’t changed much either, obviously.

“So,” she said, trying to regain some resemblance of professionalism. “Let’s get Brianne settled in the studio so that she’s comfortable. Your wife said she wanted an assortment of pictures to choose from and—”

“Oh,” he said, following her into the next room where Anna and Patrick waited, transfixed with curiosity. “That wasn’t my wife. You talked to—”

“What a beautiful baby,” Anna interrupted, holding out her arms. Brianne, obviously sensing a more comfortable chest to snuggle against, went willingly into Anna’s embrace as the plump woman settled herself on Kim’s leather sofa.

“Thanks,” Stuart said. “She takes after my side of the family, I think.”

So he wasn’t married to the baby’s mother. Divorced? Kim eyed the baby, who wasn’t more than five or six months old. No. It was more likely that Stuart and Brianne’s mother had never married. No surprise there. Stuart Thorpe attracted women like her twin sister attracted men.

It was a gift.

“Mrs. Gianetto, this is Stuart Thorpe, an old friend. Stuart, this is Anna Gianetto and Patrick O’Reilly, my neighbors.”

Patrick frowned at the younger man, but he stepped forward to shake Stuart’s offered hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, not sounding as if he meant it. “You know our Kim, huh?”

“Yes.”

“She’s a nice girl,” the old man declared. “A good girl.”

“Stuart,” Kim said quickly. “I heard that you’re a heart surgeon now.”

“Uh, yes—” he stopped, watching his baby. “Uh, Mrs.—”

“Gianetto,” Kim supplied, watching Anna cradle the child.

“Mrs. Gianetto,” Stuart tried again. “If you hold her like that she’ll think she’s going to get fed and then I’m afraid she’ll—”

Scream.

Kim winced. Brianne’s wail of frustration bounced off the ivory walls of the studio and effectively stopped conversation. Patrick winced and reached for his hearing aid.

“Mamma mia,” Anna exhaled. “This one has a temper like my first husband.” She lifted the little girl and aimed her toward Stuart.

“She takes after her mother,” he said, looking amused as he took the baby back into his arms. His smile faded as Brianne’s wails escalated.

“Where is her mother?” Kim asked.

“In Maine,” he shouted. “Family emergency!”

“Maybe it would be better if you waited until her mother returns,” Kim suggested. “Your little girl might be in a better mood for her pictures then.”

“I’ll catch hell for messing this up,” he muttered, awkwardly patting the baby’s back. “Can’t you do something? Some photographer tricks?”

“Give her to me.” She held out her arms and Stuart quickly handed over the baby. Brianne let out one more complaint and then stared at Kim as if she was trying to decide whether to scream again or not.

Patrick glared at Stuart again. “That baby of yours doesn’t seem to like her daddy very much.”

Stuart ignored him and looked at Kim. “Can you do anything with her? There are some extra clothes in her bag, I think, if we need them. And her blanket.”

“Look, sweetheart,” Kim said, keeping her voice low. “Would you like to see some pretty toys? Or some funny puppets?” Brianne’s brown eyes didn’t blink, but she took a deep shuddering breath.

Kim looked over at her audience of three. Stuart appeared relieved and tired. Anna sat on the couch as if she was watching a particularly fascinating television show and Patrick stood with his arms folded across his chest, clearly convinced he was protecting his women from a dangerous stranger.

“I take it you’re all staying?” she asked.

“I can wait outside,” Stuart offered, taking a step backward.

“Good idea,” Patrick said.

“But she knows you,” Kim told Stuart. As much as she wished he would leave, she couldn’t risk Brianne throwing another fit if she discovered she was alone with strangers. Babies were sensitive little beings, she knew. And they knew what was going on around them.

“If you insist,” Stuart said.

“Fine.” She didn’t want to insist. She wanted her heart to beat normally again and she wanted to stop worrying that her face was red. She also didn’t know how much longer she could hide how nervous she was.

“I’ll stay, too.” Patrick moved over to the couch and sat beside Anna.

“Great,” Kim muttered, moving over to the staged area where she photographed children. “You all have to be quiet. I don’t want her to be distracted.” She turned back to Stuart. “Did you bring any of her favorite toys?”

“I’ll look.” He practically ran out the door to the waiting room.

“What a nice young man,” Anna said. “You were friends, eh? What kind of friends?”

Kim shook her head. “Never mind about that, Anna. It was a long time ago. I was a senior in art school and he was in residency at Rhode Island Hospital. We lived in the same apartment house in East Providence.” She wondered if Brianne would be happier if she was propped into a sitting position or if she would be better on her tummy, lifting her head and smiling for the camera. She would have to try it both ways and hope the little girl wouldn’t object too loudly.

“Hmm,” her neighbor said. “You must have liked him. I can tell.”

“No,” Kim said. “Not really.” A secret crush, that was all, which she would never admit to anyone. Of course, Stuart hadn’t given her a second look after one casual date, except to ask who her twin was dating.

“Humph,” was all Anna said as Stuart, holding a pink terry cloth turtle and a darker rose blanket, hurried back into the room. He looked ridiculous and also terribly appealing, Kim thought, hoping she didn’t appear too pathetic and wistful as she watched him cross the room.

Funny that the man who swore he’d never settle down was now a father.

HE’D FORGOTTEN Kim Cooper was a photographer—or maybe he never knew. He hadn’t forgotten that reddish-gold hair or jade-green eyes or her slender little body. Kim Cooper had had a great-looking ass and still did, despite the fact that she wore baggy shorts. Stuart watched her work with his moody little niece, coaxing the baby into smiling for the camera. He caught the outline of her breasts when she bent over to adjust a black cord, glimpsed a bit of appealing cleavage in the V of her white blouse.

Stuart glanced over at Mr. O’Reilly and hoped the old man couldn’t read his mind. Patrick reminded him of an old bulldog his friend Harry had owned years ago.

He turned his attention back to Kim, who now held the baby’s toy turtle in the air, coaxing Bree into a smile as she clicked another picture.

“Good girl,” Kim cooed and Stuart swore the baby preened.

“What a little sweetheart,” the Italian woman declared. “She likes having her picture taken, doesn’t she.”

“What about a different outfit?” Kim scooped the baby into her arms and turned and looked at Stuart. “Your—Bree’s mother wanted quite a lot of proofs from which to choose.”

“I don’t have a clue.” Stuart wondered if he should apologize for not calling Kim, but that seemed silly since six years had passed since their one and only date.

“She didn’t tell you?”

He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of yellow-lined paper. “She wrote it down.” Stuart unfolded the list and noted that he’d forgotten to call off the “Baby and Me” exercise class, something so important that Payne had starred it. Nap, pink turtle, four-thirty appointment, pink outfit with white bunny and white dress with lace. He looked over at Brianne, who was dressed in a pink one-piece outfit with a teddy bear on the front. “I think I might have a fancy dress,” he said.

“Do you want to put it on her while I change the film?”

“Sure.” Before he knew it the baby was back in his arms and Kim was immersed in sorting through a strange array of equipment.

He’d forgotten how pretty Kim Cooper was. He didn’t see a wedding ring on her left hand, though he sneaked a peek before he went back into the waiting room to fetch the diaper bag. No diamond either, which surprised him. Kim had been the “marriage and babies” kind of woman he’d learned to avoid. Sweet, domestic, innocent, she had been perfect “wife” material.

For someone else.

Which meant he had run like hell in the opposite direction.

Stuart grabbed the baby’s bag, stuffed full of her belongings and headed back to the studio.

“We’ll do some outdoor pictures now,” Kim said, glancing out the window at the bright May sunshine.

“Outside?” Payne hadn’t said anything about that. If Bree got stung by a bee, his ass was grass and he’d never be invited to another one of his sister’s holiday meals again.

“I have it all set up,” she said, doing something with her camera. “The lilacs are going to bloom early this year. If we’re lucky we might be able to get a touch of color. At least we’ll get some background texture from the bushes, and the light should be good.”

“Our Kim is famous for her lilac pictures,” Anna confided to Stuart, who thought about ants, bees and ticks. Rhode Island was famous for mosquitoes, too. He rummaged through the bag for Bree’s sweater.

“Don’t worry about shoes,” Kim told him. “She can go barefoot. Baby toes are wonderful.”

“They are?”

“They are,” she said, pointing to the place on the couch that Mr. O’Reilly had just vacated. “You can change her there. And check her diaper, too. If she’s uncomfortable, she’s not going to smile.”

He did as he was told, laying Bree on her back on the sofa cushion. “Are you sure this outside is a good idea?”

“Trust me,” she said, giving him a quick smile that had a strange effect on the part of his body that had no business coming to life at this particular moment, in front of this particular audience.