the question for her. “Calista says she can get rid of that stain for me—that’s actually my favorite shirt,” he added in case Erin wondered what all the fuss was about.
With Jake on the scene, Calista managed to snap out of her mental reverie and found her tongue.
“Do you have any lemon juice?” she heard herself asking Erin. “Soaking a stain in lemon juice usually helps get the stubborn ones out,” she told the other woman.
That was news to Erin. But then, she really wasn’t all that domestic-minded. Yet.
“Good thing to know,” Erin commented. She thought for a moment before answering. “If we have any lemon juice left, you’ll find it in the refrigerator door, next to the skim milk.”
“I’ll go look,” Calista offered. “If you don’t have any, I can take the shirt home with me. I’ve got some lemon juice in the garage,” she recalled.
That seemed like an odd thing to him to keep around. “You deal with a lot of spit-up during the course of the day?” Jake asked her.
“It doesn’t just work on spit-up. It’s good for getting out all sorts of stubborn stains,” she explained as she made her way into the kitchen. “It’s not a magic cureall,” she added, not wanting to mislead him. “But pretty nearly.”
“Huh.” He looked at the back of Calista’s head for a split second, thinking she had pretty light brown hair, then commented, “Learn something every day.”
Jake was right behind her and she was finding it more and more difficult to pretend that the man wasn’t practically mouth-wateringly naked.
“That’s life,” Calista responded cheerfully. “One great big beautiful learning process.”
My God, had she just uttered those inane words? Great. Now he probably thought she was some kind of dork, half Mary Poppins, half nerdy science geek. Or maybe even worse.
Erin opened the front door and quickly crossed the threshold. If she didn’t leave now, there was no telling when she’d finally get the opportunity.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to your chemistry experiment,” Erin called out. “Let me know how it goes.” She glanced one final time toward the young woman she’d brought over to meet Jake. “See you soon, Calista.”
“Soon,” Calista echoed with a nod, then looked at Jake. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about hiring me as your sitter,” she qualified.
She had a strong hunch that the man with the rock-hard chest had an acute aversion to women who gazed up at him with doe eyes. If he’d suddenly changed his mind about the arrangement, she didn’t want to make it hard for him to tell her.
“Why would I change my mind?” he asked, mystified by her thinking. “You’ve definitely got the job,” he assured her, then laughed. “I don’t strip off my shirt for just anyone.”
He was teasing the young woman, he realized. He hadn’t done something like that—or anything else that was remotely lighthearted in nature—since he’d heard the awful news about Maggie getting shot.
He remembered his breath suddenly freezing in his lungs despite the warm weather—spring in New Orleans had a sticky dampness to it like no other place. And then, for weeks, he’d alternated between suppressed rage and numbness. He’d just assumed that things like teasing and smiling were behaviors he wouldn’t be revisiting for a very long time to come and were, consequently, tucked away deep in his past.
Calista swallowed. Her mouth was inexplicably—not to mention incredibly—dry.
“I see,” she replied, doing her best not to appear as affected as she was by this man.
At bottom, she tried to tell herself, individuals were all just a bunch of skin, tissues, organs and a great deal of water, haphazardly thrown together to form an arbitrary whole.
But, oh, the composition that had gone into making Jake Castro, she couldn’t help thinking, growing warm all over again.
The next second, she was chastising herself for a second time. What was she, twelve? No, she was twenty-two, a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, on a clearly cut path that was to ultimately lead to some sort of a position with the local government, possibly even an elected one. All of which meant that she couldn’t afford to act like some starry-eyed juvenile just because the man standing next to her with the baby in his arms didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on him, even in his spare back pocket.
“Ah, lemon juice,” she declared, spotting the little green plastic bottle with a picture of a lemon on it tucked away in the far end of the refrigerator door.
Saved by a grocery item, Calista thought, mocking herself sarcastically.
Bottle in hand, she looked around for somewhere she could continue this baptism-by-lemon-juice process. At first glance, nothing seemed to stand out.
“Do you know if your sister has a large plastic bowl she isn’t using, or a sink I could take over for, say, a few hours?” she asked him hopefully.
The question caught Jake off guard. His eyes shifted to the shirt, then back to her. “This is going to take a few hours?”
“It might,” Calista allowed, then qualified. “It can be sooner and I’m not going to hang out here the entire time waiting,” she promised, guessing that was probably what he was afraid of. “I just need somewhere I can leave your shirt to soak without having it disturbed or in the way.”
For the time being, until he could find his own place, Erin had insisted that he remain with her and her husband. When he and Marlie had arrived and Corey had chimed in with the same invitation—and as far as Jake could tell, his brother-in-law was actually sincere—Jake found himself agreeing. Secretly, he had to admit that he was relieved. It was always easier looking for a place if he had somewhere that served as his home base until he found something suitable for himself and the baby.
“There’s a bathroom off the guest room that I’m using,” he volunteered. “You could leave my shirt soaking in the sink.”
Calista grinned, nodding. “Sounds like a plan.” She gestured vaguely toward the front of the house. “Lead the way.”
Marlie made a gurgling noise as her father turned on his heel. The next moment, Calista saw him shiver. She guessed at what had happened even before he told the baby, “At least this time there’s nothing for you to get dirty.” Marlie had spat up on his bare shoulder.
With that, Jake led the way to the stairs.
No doubt about it, Calista thought as she followed behind him and walked up the stairs to his room, the man looked good coming and going.
There went her stomach again, contracting into a knot.
Get a grip, she ordered herself. The man needs someone to help him out, not to drool all over him. He’s already got the latter covered.
When they came to the landing, Jake brought her over to the second door on the right. The door was closed. He opened it, then walked in and nodded toward the bathroom located over in the far corner of the room. There were four other guest rooms in the large house, but this one
