A Navy SEAL's Surprise Baby. Laura Altom Marie
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“I’m not in a hurry.” He already had the back popped open and had placed the gallon of milk and two bulging sacks inside.
“Still...” Finished with Quinn, she fussed with her hands. “This is my job.”
Ah, this was some kind of boss issue. “Look, Pandora, technically I might be in charge, but realistically...?” He laughed. “You’re the one with all the answers. I might place explosives on moving subs, but navigating the baby aisle in the supermarket is way over my head. I never know what kind of milk to buy, and baby food blows my mind. That makes us a team, okay?”
Smiling, she pushed up her glasses and nodded. “At least let me help.”
When she brushed past, their forearms grazed and he caught a whiff of her floral-scented hair. Maybe it’d been too long since he’d been with a woman, or maybe he was just appreciative to finally have some help with Quinn—either way, being near her made him feel extra alert. Not so much an attraction as an appreciation. Curiosity, even, to discover more about what made her tick. None of which made sense, considering he barely knew her. But there it was all the same.
A minute later, they’d finished loading his SUV. “I’ll follow you home to carry everything in.”
“Really, I’ve got this,” she assured him.
But because he’d been raised to always carry in the groceries, he insisted.
* * *
DURING THE SHORT DRIVE to Calder’s house, relief shimmered through Pandora. Not only had he not been angered by having to interrupt his day to help her, but he’d been downright gallant. And now, offering to help her unload? Amazing. Her ex had declared anything to do with groceries women’s work.
Once parked in the garage, she took Quinn while Calder handled her purchases.
In the house, she placed the still-fussing baby in his high chair, dampened a paper towel with warm water, then washed his little hands and hers. “Hold on a minute, pumpkin, and we’ll get that hungry tummy filled.”
She rummaged in the bags Calder had already piled on the counter. Spotting the one item she needed, she removed a box of teething biscuits and handed a cookie to Quinn.
For the longest time, he stared at the biscuit, inspecting it as if he was unsure what to do. When his next logical step was to put it in his mouth, he grinned, oblivious to the drool dripping from his gummy smile.
She wiped his chin with a fresh dishrag before fishing for one of the bibs she’d bought at the store. With it securely fastened to the enthusiastic eater, she set about putting away the groceries and making lunch.
“That’s everything.” Calder set the last of the bags on the kitchen table. Sitting in the chair next to his son, he asked, “What’re you eating, bud?”
Quinn gurgled and waved his hands in the air. “Bah!”
“Really?” he teased his son. “Sounds good.”
“It’s a teething biscuit,” Pandora explained. “Soothes his gums. Plus, buys me time to fix him a proper lunch.”
“Ah....” Calder nodded. “How’d you learn about babies?”
For a moment she froze, then slipped into autoresponse mode, glad for the distraction of putting veggies in the fridge. “Mostly classes and on-the-job training. This is my first full-time position with infant care, but I’ve worked part-time for three other families. Little Jonah, an eleven-month-old, was my biggest challenge. He was a jumper. That baby was nearly the death of me. He’d try escaping his changing table, crib, playpen. Can’t imagine the trouble he’s going to cause his future teachers.”
Calder laughed.
Inside, she felt the stirrings of guilt. More and more, he seemed like a great guy. She wished she could’ve just told him about Julia, but that would only raise more questions—some of which she may not have been able to answer. As Natalie reminded her, she was entitled to her private life. Her only job requirement was giving expert care to Quinn.
“No kidding. I hope Quinn doesn’t try to pull that kind of stunt,” Calder said, still chuckling.
While putting pork chops, chicken and beef in the freezer, she said, “I’m making Quinn pureed peas for lunch. Would you like the grown-up version with a grilled chicken breast?”
His grin did funny things to her stomach. “Thanks for the offer, but I had lunch back on base. Speaking of which...” He stood, then kissed the top of Quinn’s head. “Guess I’d better head back.”
Pandora understood Calder’s work was important, but once he was gone she struggled with the oddest sensation. Something akin to clouds blocking the sun.
* * *
ALL AFTERNOON, stuck in a stuffy classroom, Calder found his mind drifting to his brief time with Pandora and Quinn. There was so much he needed to learn about his son, but considering how Calder had come to be a father, he’d had a hell of a time adjusting. Sure, he’d read a few baby books, and the first week, his mom had come from North Carolina to help him through the initial crisis, but there were still times he wondered what had happened to his life.
Opening his apartment door to find a wailing, six-month-old baby blocking the way had been a shocker, to put it mildly. Quinn had been bundled in a beaten-up carrier, talking to his pinkie finger.
Since then, everything felt upside down. Calder always seemed to be rushing to catch up. Temporary sitters and day care never seemed to work out and, until finding the agency that had provided him with Pandora, he’d feared maybe having to take an extended leave until his kid started school.
Calm, capable Pandora struck him as an oasis in his child-care desert.
Tonight, instead of rushing around trying to figure out formula ratios and how to scrub Quinn without getting soap in his eyes, Calder figured that thanks to the new nanny, he was back to business as usual.
He’d grab a beer with Mason, Heath and Cooper—maybe even chat up a hot blonde.
Four hours later, Calder shared a table at a favorite SEAL hangout, Tipsea’s, with his boys. “This is the life, huh, guys?”
Mason ate a pretzel. “I don’t know. At lunch, when Garrett was showing around all his family pics... Made me wonder if we’re missing something, but then gazing out on tonight’s sea of available beauties, I’m thinking I like my current life just fine. Can I get an amen?”
Calder and Mason clinked longneck brews.
At the opposite end of the table, Cooper raised his beer.
“You three keep living the dream...” Heath fished in a pocket of his camo fatigues. “But it’s time for me to move on. Lookee what I bought for Patricia’s birthday.” He withdrew a black velvet box, flipped open the lid to display a decent-size rock.
“Whoa—you don’t mean move on as in leaving the SEALs, do you?”
Heath almost choked on his beer.