to start crying again.”
Lana sighed. “Here, let me show you. Like this. Loosen up.” She touched his arm lightly. He felt the warmth of her fingers through the sleeve of his shirt, felt the connection all the way to the marrow of his bones.
“I’ll drop him.” She didn’t seem to be affected by the contact.
“No, you won’t. Just pretend he’s a football and you’re a running back.”
Automatically he shifted Greg lower into the crook of his arm, curled his hand around his bottom, cradled his head. Lana laughed, a bright melodious sound that warmed his soul the way her touch had warmed his skin. Jessie had never laughed like that, at least not for a long, long time. “That’s better. I was right. You were a running back, weren’t you?”
He grinned. He couldn’t help himself. “A real hotshot on my high school team, but never better than second string in college.”
Greg started sucking on his fist. “He’s hungry. What football metaphor can you come up with to help me out there?”
“Don’t try and get the whole ten yards in one carry.” She handed him the bottle.
“What do you mean by that?”
She smiled again. “Don’t let him drink too fast. And bubble him when the bottle’s half empty, whether he wants to stop sucking or not.”
“You are good at this,” he said, relaxing a little. “How about giving me a few more lessons?” It was the depth of his need to get a handle on this baby-raising that prompted him to make such an outrageous request.
“I…”
“I’ll pay you.”
“Certainly not.”
He wished he’d kept his damned mouth shut. She was a businesswoman and a Lord. He hadn’t been in Austin long, but he knew the Lord name was a respected one. She was way, way out of his league, and here he was offering to pay her for parenting lessons. For being a goddamn nanny. “Sorry, that was out of line.”
“It’s not that.” She looked at Greg, and he saw her mouth tighten slightly. “I don’t have time. I’m late now for a party. My godmother’s grandson…it’s his first birthday. I can’t miss it. And then there’s my business….”
“Just the basics,” he said, determined that she not walk out of his life as quickly as she had barged into it. “Just until I can get my feet under me.”
“They have excellent parenting classes at Maitland Maternity. Or you could make arrangements to leave Greg at the day-care center there. They accept infants. My friend Beth Maitland—Beth Redstone, I should say—runs it. The care’s excellent.”
She was babbling. He’d only known her for a few minutes but he’d bet his last cent, and he didn’t have much more to bet, that it wasn’t like her. She was entranced by Greg, he could tell. She wanted to say yes. He decided not to try to charm her. Hell, he wasn’t that good with women anyway, never had been. He settled on the truth. “I can’t afford full-time day care. Every cent I have’s tied up in buying and renovating this building.”
“Oh. Then a nanny?” She bit her lip. “No. I suppose that would be even more expensive.”
“And what woman in her right mind would want to be here all day?”
“Then it’s certainly no place for a baby.”
She had a damned good point and he knew it, but he was between a big rock and a hard place. Not only did he have everything he owned tied up in this place, but he had a big chunk of his parents’ money in it, as well. “We’re staying here, Miz Lord. For the time being we have nowhere else to go. Look, I’m sorry I asked. You’ve been a big help. Greg and I will muddle through. Go back to what you were doing. And thanks again.” He motioned with his head for her to precede him out of the kitchen. Greg sensed his agitation and began to fuss, pushing the bottle out of his mouth with surprising force. Two seconds later he was crying again.
All the starch seemed to go out of Lana Lord. “See, you’re upsetting him because you’re upset. You win, Dylan Van Zandt. I’ll help you with Greg until you can get the hang of it and get this place fit to raise a baby in.”
SHE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN Michael and Garrett would have conniptions when she told them what she’d agreed to do for Dylan Van Zandt. Not even being in the middle of little Chase’s birthday party with a hundred people standing around watching them had made a difference. She should have kept her mouth shut until they were all four alone. Michael had backed her into a corner and refused to let her go until she’d told them all the details. When she described going up the staircase armed only with a baseball bat, she thought her brother the security expert was going to have a stroke.
Michael lectured her on the stupidity of that kind of stunt, and Garrett lectured her on her lack of even a modicum of common sense for a good ten minutes, until she had all she could take and told them both to knock it off. If she wanted to help Dylan Van Zandt with his son she would, no matter what her siblings thought of the idea.
Shelby, bless her heart, had been all for it. She thought it was time for Lana to meet someone new. Garrett had said very little after that, but the set look on his darkly tanned face left no doubt in his sister’s mind that if there was anything even slightly out of place in Dylan’s life, her brother would make the other man wish he’d never laid eyes on one of the Austin Lords.
Family. She loved her siblings dearly but she could make her own decisions and trust her own instincts. Lana leaned against the headrest and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. It was hot and humid, and thunder-clouds were building up over the hills west of town. If traffic didn’t start moving soon, her air-conditioning would give up the ghost. She should have had the car serviced weeks ago, but she’d been too busy.
And if she was busy then, she was going to be even busier in the future.
What had she agreed to? Parenting lessons? What did that entail? Baby-sitting? Probably. She could hardly leave Dylan’s son alone up there in the dust and dirt and mouse droppings. No, she’d have to keep him with her during the day. The thought made her heart skip a beat. A baby, one that she could care for as if it were her own.
She sobered at that. Greg wasn’t her baby. And she had better keep that foremost in her mind.
There was a parking space in front of Oh, Baby!, and since it was Sunday evening she took it. Mostly she parked around the corner on a little side street to leave room for customers’ cars. She sat still for a moment looking at her building, seeing it with different eyes. It was made of brick, old and mellowed. The windows were tall and well-proportioned on the second floor, square and functional on the third. The four stores on the ground floor all had bay windows and oval glass in the doors. She loved the small-town feel of the neighborhood. It looked like Main Street somewhere in the Midwest, not just a few blocks off the main drag in Austin, Texas.
When she’d first opened her store, there had been a little flower shop between the bakery and the vintage clothing store. Along with a New Age bookshop, they made up the other tenants, but the flower shop had gone out of business long since. She hadn’t thought about it in years. There had been a curving marble stairway leading nowhere that the owner had used to display floral arrangements and garden ornaments, she recalled. And once she’d glimpsed an old-fashioned metal-gated elevator
