HER BABY'S SECRET FATHER Page 8

  “You know that, that…deal I used in the hospital?” she stammered. “The machine?” She caught herself placing her fingertips over her chest, and quickly stuck her hands in her jean pockets.

  He glanced at the front of her blouse with sloe eyes, comprehension dawning and torturing her.

  “It’s…um…” She rolled her eyes and whispered, “Time to pump.”

  Unable to help himself, he teased her with a crooked, playful smile. “Don’t mind me—go right ahead. I’ll be writing down the recipe for sweet potato puree. Like she says—” he nodded toward the television and winked “—it’s loaded with beta carotene.”

  “Terrance,” she chided, and he relented, instead looking over at two cans of crimson paint, and a drop cloth in the corner of the living room.

  “Planning on painting?”

  “Yeah,” she said, and motioned. “That wall—this weekend.”

  “Can you save it for Monday? It’s my weekend on.”

  She thought fast. “I can manage by myself.”

  He moved closer. “I’m offering to help. Be gracious and accept. Besides, it will give you more time with Tara this weekend.”

  She battled her usual stubborn resolve to be completely independent with the chance to spend more time with Tara—not to mention time alone with Terrance again.

  “Well, now that you put it that way,” she said, feeling somewhat foolish. “Okay.” What could the harm be? Painting a wall with a friend? A hunky friend at that.

  Neither of them had mentioned the kiss from the night before, but Jaynie thought for sure his eyes watched her mouth a lot more than any regular friend would. Still tingling from his touch, she caught her lower lip with her teeth and noticed he did the same. Her mouth grew dry and she licked her lips, then immediately stopped herself, horrified by how it must look to Terrance. A shiver tickled through her and her milk let down.

  Her eyes shot open, and before damp circles could spread out across her shirt she said, “Oh, I’ve got to go.” She ran to her room, shirking her hostess duties, leaving Terrance to let himself out.

  And, if she wasn’t mistaken, she heard him chuckle when he left.

  *

  Jaynie got a shock the next day when she went to visit Tara. After scrubbing her hands like a surgeon, and entering the unit, she found Tara’s isolette wasn’t in its usual spot. A quick jolt of terror made her stop in her tracks. Quickly one of the regular nurses caught her arm and led her toward the back door.

  “She’s been moved to the growing nursery. Tara has graduated from the NICU.”

  Joy replaced fear and filled Jaynie’s heart, pumping excitement through her veins. She rushed to the other room and was rewarded with a vision of serenity. Tara lay flat on her back, pacifier in her mouth, with far fewer wires and tubes tethering her tiny body. Her IV and heart monitor leads had been removed. The only thing remaining was the nasogastric tube and an oxygen saturation monitor taped to her foot. She lay peacefully asleep, tucked beneath a thin cotton blanket. Her knit cap remained snug on her head.

  Jaynie’s favorite nurse, the one who had introduced her to Kangaroo Care, greeted her by the incubator. They hugged like old friends.

  “When she wakes up, I think it’s about time to put Tara to breast,” the nurse said.

  Gasping at the wonderful news, Jaynie squeezed the older woman’s arm. She smiled at her daughter, almost willing her to wake up, and within a few minutes Tara’s hazel-tinted eyes appeared beneath paper-thin lids.

  The nurse explained about nutritive versus non-nutritive nursing. “More than likely, she’ll just play at it at first. But all sucking is good for her.”

  After changing Tara’s diaper, the nurse gestured for Jaynie to sit in a La-Z-Boy chair, and handed the baby into her eager arms. She pressed her nipple to Tara’s lips, amazed at the instantaneous response from the baby. She latched on with gusto and sucked as if she’d been doing it since birth. She giggled at the sight, and heard a quiet chuckle from the nurse.

  “She’s a pro,” the nurse announced as she washed her hands. Then she walked to another layette and newborn, leaving Jaynie and Tara to nurse in peace.

  *

  Tara’s little head soon lolled back, breaking suction from her mother’s breast, making a small popping sound. Jaynie smiled benevolently. “You’re not done yet, Twiggy. We’ve got to fatten you up so I can bring you home,” she cooed.

  A lost cause, Tara was out to the world. Jaynie stood and replaced her sleeping baby in the isolette. She closed the flaps on her nursing bra and started buttoning up her blouse.

  One of the nurses called out. “Hey, Terrance. What’s shakin’?”

  “Not much, Peggy. How’s Peanut?”

  Jaynie smiled at the sound of his voice. Eager to say hello herself, she immediately turned. “She’s doing great,” she said in a loud whisper. “Come and see for yourself.”

  *

  Oh, he’d seen for himself, all right. The tempting bulge of cleavage he glanced just before Jaynie refastened the last button on her blouse, and the reaction he’d felt throughout his body, had taken him by surprise. This was a side of Jaynie he’d never seen before, had only fantasized about, and the turn-on shocked his sensibilities right down to his low-cut athletic socks.

  His face grew hot.

  Astounding.

  Terrance Zanderson, flustered by the sight of a partially exposed woman? Not likely. He’d never had any problems getting or keeping a woman naked. But this woman was different. This was Jaynie, looking more sensual than he’d ever seen her before. And for once she wasn’t wearing her glasses. Her deep brown eyes had a decided look of nearsightedness, with large black pupils and the hint of a squint as she tried to see him more clearly. The term bedroom eyes came to mind, and that was exactly where he wanted to be…with her. Right now.

  “I think we should go have lunch,” he said, searching for anything to disrupt the direction of his thoughts.

  “Hey, that sounds great,” she said.

  He’d never seen her smile so freely, and again he felt himself taken aback at her natural loveliness. Her wonderfully full mouth spread across a white, slightly imperfect overbite. Far beyond a nice smile, it was a great smile, and he longed to see it every day…for the rest of his life.

  Now, what was that about?

  He recalled their intimate kiss a couple of days earlier, and every cell in his body warmed to the memory. If she only knew what he was thinking.

  “I said I’m ready.” Her voice broke into his thoughts.

  He snapped to. “Ready for what?”

  “To eat.” She sounded exasperated. “Oh, but first I need to burp her.” She lightly massaged Tara’s back while the baby lay on her stomach.

  Terrance approached the isolette and peered inside. The baby had a look of bliss on her face that made both of them laugh.

  “What are you serving her? Tranquilizers?”

  Jaynie blinked. Her radiant smile brought a grin to his face. Everything she did turned him on.

  “She pigged out and then passed out. I’ll have to wake her up long enough to burp her, and then she’ll go back to sleep.”

  An adult-sized belch from the newborn reverberated across the room, and set them both to giggling.

  Jaynie crossed her eyes with playful embarrassment. “Well, excuse us.”

  Terrance caught himself grinning like a proud father. “That’s our Peanut,” he said. “Now, how about that lunch?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Now that Tara had belched, Jaynie repositioned her onto her back. She kissed two fingers and lightly touched them to Tara’s forehead. “See you later, Peanut.”

  He looked over Jaynie’s shoulder at his content daughter, catching a whiff of lavender soap in Jaynie’s hair and feeling too close for comfort.

  As though a bucket of cold water had been dumped on his head, he got a grip.

  This can never be. I’m not part of her plan and she’s not part of mine.


  Backing off, he led the way to the ward door, and hardly said two words while they walked to the elevator.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ON MONDAY, Terrance showed up to help Jaynie paint her living room wall. He had a gift in tow, and held up a hand to ward off any of Jaynie’s protests.

  “The NICU nurses said this is the most creative bed available.”

  He pushed the box he held in his arms toward her, so she could read the Australian brand-name. The picture showed a bassinet-size bed hanging suspended by a spring and crossbar from a sturdy steel frame.

  “They said that every time the baby moves, a gentle rocking motion lulls her back to sleep.”

  Jaynie started to respond, but like a salesman on a mission—a salesman in tight jeans and a black tee shirt—he continued. “And, because it’s slightly upright, it will help if Tara has gastric reflux. And she’ll feel more secure, cuddled in the curve of the bed, than in a large open and flat crib.”

  Before Jaynie could say a word, he ripped open the box and fished out the contents, then set to work putting everything together, like a dad on Christmas morning.

  “It’s lightweight enough to carry from room to room, so you can keep an eye on her, too.”

  Speechless, Jaynie watched. There would be no refusing his gift. Terrance’s gesture of concern for her baby moved her more than she could admit; she shook her head in resignation.

  “Why are you doing this?” She’d only meant to think the words, but they snuck out on a whisper.

  Temporarily outsmarted by the metal poles, he stopped to scratch his head. He turned to her and, looking earnest as all hell, said, “Because I care.”

  She blinked.

  Why should you care?

  “Well, thank you.” A wave of post-partum nostalgia— surely that was what it was?—threatened to overtake her. She glanced away to toughen up. “I’m very touched.”

  He gazed at his feet, then back up, and whispered, “You’re welcome.”

  Fearing she could get used to being cared about, she let her gaze dance away. Instead, she forced herself to calculate the steps she’d read for painting a wall—a task she’d never done before.

  Desperate to change the feel-good mood in the room, Jaynie spread the drop cloth on the floor and opened the first can of paint, while Terrance distracted himself with setting up the bed.

  “So, why are we painting that wall red?” he asked, in a casual, more distant tone. Apparently he’d caught her drift.

  Jaynie gave the thick red liquid one last stir with a wooden stick before stopping to answer. “Kim’s grandmother said I needed to bring more of the five energies into my house. This red wall will represent fire.” She put her hands on her jeans-clad hips and glanced across the room. “And I’m bringing in water energy with my indoor rock fountain. See?”

  Terrance followed her hand and studied her newest purchase, bubbling and rippling over a slab of smooth black rock. He gave a nod. “Nice,” he said. “Peaceful.”

  “And I’m bringing in earth energy with large indoor plants,” she said. “Green is good.” Spurred on by all the extra reading she’d done on the topic, she felt positive. “I can feel a difference already.”

  Clearly amused, he gave her a thumbs-up sign. And they passed the next hour side-by-side, painting in quiet, relaxed camaraderie.

  In the middle of his using a roller brush to finish the last section of wall, Terrance’s cellphone rang. “Can you get that for me, Jaynie?”

  Her hands were free, and much cleaner than his, but she had to fish the phone from his back pocket, flip it open and place it snug against his ear—which felt far too intimate.

  She tensed.

  “Hello?” He looked at her and nodded his thanks. “Hey, Dave.” He smiled.

  Jaynie studied the tiny golden flecks in his hazel eyes while he concentrated on the conversation. Damn, he was good-looking, and it irritated the hell out of her.

  “No kidding?” he said.

  With new resolve, she vowed not to get sidetracked from her goal of being a mother and raising her kid…without a man. She looked away, concentrating on her feet. A paint-by-numbers kind of woman herself, who liked everything in life planned out to the tee, she’d never be compatible with a free-form action artist like Terrance, who loved extreme sports and grabbing life by the horns, going with the flow.

  Why even think about a guy like him? She’d had her chance once, and had chosen to walk away. If she recalled correctly, he hadn’t exactly come chasing after her to come back, either.

  “I really appreciate it,” he said. “I’m a little tight for cash right now.”

  She lifted her head with interest.

  “Great. Later.” He raised dark honey-colored eyebrows, cueing Jaynie to fold up the phone and slip it back into his pocket. She tried not to notice his high and firm rear end while she used two fingers—as if the phone had cooties—to replace it. She resisted a disturbing urge to pat his bum when she’d finished.

  “Hey!” he said with a self-satisfied smile.

  Her head shot up faster than a guilty pickpocket.

  “Dave offered me his frequent flyer points.” He finished his last stroke on the wall. “So I can fly to Massachusetts and North Carolina for my medical school interviews. As soon as I can make arrangements for time off work, I’m flying out.”

  “That’s fantastic.” She tried to sound more enthusiastic than she felt. An odd empty feeling nibbled at the pit of her stomach. Though happy for his goals and accomplishments, she had let Terrance get too close. She’d have to put an end to it right away. With new determination, she straightened her back. “I really hope your plans work out.” She did mean it. Jaynie wanted him to be happy and successful. “I can see you as a doctor. You’ve got what it takes.”

  He grinned at her with a sparkle in his eyes, and a pleasant tickling sensation whispered across the back of her knees. Damn. Illogical as it was, she wanted to kiss him.

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I just wish I didn’t have to sell my house and move out of state in order to do it,” he said, not sounding particularly enthused about the turn of events. A distant, thoughtful look passed over his face while he studied hers and ended by staring at her mouth.

  Had he read her mind?

  Jaynie couldn’t take another second of Terrance being this close. With news of his leaving town, now was as good a time as any to start distancing herself from Terrance and the silent dreams he could never fulfill.

  She went to work cleaning up, getting busy with every ridiculous detail she could think of—anything to break away from his allure.

  Oh, but he wouldn’t leave well enough alone. He reached for her arm, forcing her to look at him. Blood rushed up her neck, settling in her cheeks. A mischievous hazel glow peered at her.

  “You’ve got paint on your face,” he said.

  Hands full and busy, she raised her forearm to capture the smudge, not having a clue where it was.

  Terrance wiped the paint from his own hands on a rag, and stepped forward. “Let me.” He helped her dispose of the paintbrush and roller bin on the tarp, and used his long, sturdy index finger to gently wipe above her upper lip. Tracing the entire length of her mouth in the same fashion, his fingertip trailed down to her chin.

  Faster than she could blink, his hazel eyes turned to smoke-tinged topaz. Heat pulsed all the way to her toes, and she held her breath. He moved closer and took her face in his hands.

  Before she could breathe, he covered her lips with his own. Long, sensual seconds passed, with his lush warmth teasing her mouth. She breathed with him, relaxed, and found her hands pressing the firm curves of his shoulders. And when his tongue lightly flicked hers, she clenched her fingers tight on his solid muscles. She wanted to move closer, but the hands framing her jaw and ears kept them a safe distance apart.

  He was in control.

  The kiss felt tender, and wonderfully woozy, and she longed for more. He angled his head to delve dee
per, pressing harder with his luscious mouth and tongue.

  Time stopped.

  At that moment in her life, Jaynie realized that no one had ever kissed her like Terrance. Even the other night, when she’d clearly been out of her head with grief, his kiss had both stirred her up and calmed her down. She’d definitely missed his kisses since they’d broken up.

  He tasted as delicious as he looked—a mixture of earthiness and the Gatorade he’d been sipping. A special blend of Terrance and aftershave invaded her nostrils and conjured memories of the last time they’d kissed.

  Her knees felt like noodles.

  The inviting sounds of their soulful kisses sent chills to her shoulders and breasts. Tingling, familiar tingling, circled her nipples, and she foggily realized her milk was letting down.

  Oh, but she didn’t want the pleasure to end.

  Terrance released her face, taking time to stroke and rearrange her hair before wrapping his firm arms around her, drawing her tight to his chest. She dropped her head back so their lips could stay connected, and encircled his neck with her hands.

  She’d give him whatever he wanted—anything to keep kissing him. His hips and thighs pressed flush to hers, burning through her clothes. She could feel him coming alive in his jeans, which sent an added thrill through her. Jaynie’s fingers knotted into the thick, masculine hair at his nape, where, beneath, she found a strong, solid neck to knead. She massaged while he ravished her with his hot, moist mouth.

  Full body chills sent her reeling. Milk-mist sprayed from her breasts, soon turning to large and constant drips. Shortly, the front of her blouse was soaked through.

  He groaned.

  Large hands wandered over her back, shoulders and hips while he continued to devour her mouth. He reached beneath her bottom and hoisted her tighter to him, pulling her up onto her toes. She anchored herself to his neck and chest, wrapping her thigh around his hip, molding body to body.

  Their tongues searched deeply and freely, tasting and savoring each other. They breathed together, completely in sync. Her saturated shirt spilled over to his tee shirt…cold, damp…sticky.