The Baby Bargain. Wendy Warren
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“Meaning—” Liberty put her legs on the bed and crossed them beneath her “—that the two of you were doing a verbal dance that makes salsa look slow.”
“I wasn’t!” Eden protested.
“Oh, no? You want to tell me you weren’t even a little hot and bothered over the boy?”
“Please.” Eden rolled her head against the cushion. “I’m hot and bothered over everything lately.”
“Still?”
Eden nodded. “Ironic, isn’t it? I wouldn’t do a thing about it now, not with Liam. Anyway, this is generic hot and botheredness. It’s not about an individual. I’m going to see my doctor and tell her my hormones are still in an uproar.”
“What? And ruin a perfectly good libido? Why not take advantage of it? You’ve been living like a nun for, what? Two years?”
“I like living this way. It keeps me sane. And I’m certainly not going to drag Liam through a series of boyfriend experiments. Romance is absolutely not my priority.”
“Who said anything about romance?” Liberty grabbed a pillow, placed it on her lap and rested her elbows on it. “You forget that I sing the same song. I’m not in the market for marriage any more than you are. But we’re young. Don’t you want sex at least once more before you give it up in the interest of motherhood?”
Eden considered the question seriously. “Honestly? Looking back, I’ve always thought relationships were more bother than the sex was worth.”
“That’s not good.” Liberty looked thoughtful. “The big difference between you and me is that you’ve always had expectations, and I never have. Trust me, sex is much better when you don’t care if Mr. Right Tonight is still with you in the morning.”
“Hmm.” Eden didn’t completely discount what her friend had to say, but neither did she believe she had the right temperament for a one-night stand. In the past, her temporary liaisons had been flops. She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because with Liam—”
“Liam is a baby, who won’t have any idea what you’re doing right now. That makes this the perfect time to take advantage of your new—and possibly temporary—libido. Your son will never have to know. You deserve great sex before you turn celibate until his high-school graduation. It’s empowering.”
“It’s complicated. First I’d have to find someone.” She shook her head, swirling a finger through one of Liam’s curls. “Nope, I’ll be better off getting my hormones under control so I won’t feel like turning into the parking lot every time I drive by a sex shop.”
She raised her head to grin…and looked into the startled face of LJ Logan.
Chapter Four
His gaze drifted to Liam’s downy head and her, uh, bodacious bosom.
When he cleared his throat, he sounded as awkward as she felt. “Excuse me. I, uh, wanted to let you know I put our glasses…the ones we drank from…in the…” He pointed in the correct direction, but couldn’t find the word for the room. “Uh…”
“Kitchen?” Liberty supplied.
He had to think about it. “Yes. And then I was just going to say…”
“Goodbye?” she filled in again.
He nodded. “Right. Goodbye. Again.”
Eden closed her eyes. “Just tell me one thing. Are you staring because you’ve caught me breast feeding or because you heard what we were talking about?” Might as well know right up front how embarrassed she ought to be.
“I would say…both.”
Embarrassment engulfed the trio—or at least two out of three—and silence reigned until Liberty tossed her pillow aside, stretched her legs then slapped both hands on her thighs.
“Well! Seems like a terrible time for me to leave, doesn’t it?” She stood and looked cheerfully between Eden and LJ. “I’m heading to First Cup for a double shot. Maybe you two will still be here when I get back.” She considered them a moment. “Possibly even in the same positions. Can I bring you anything? Latte? Chai? Iron supplement? You’re looking a little peaked. No? All righty.” She walked to the door, turned sideways to edge past LJ and whispered loudly to him in parting, “This isn’t that embarrassing, you know. You should laugh about it when I leave.”
Eden heard the scrape of her keys as she scooped them off the dining room table and then the creaky opening and closing of the screen door.
“I wonder why I didn’t hear it when you came in?” Eden murmured.
“Because I tried very hard to be quiet,” LJ responded. “I thought you’d gotten the baby back to sleep and didn’t want to wake him.”
His gaze began to drift lower again until he jerked it back up. Somehow his discomfort began to lessen hers.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen a woman breastfeed?” It seemed unlikely in this day and age, but he tugged on his loose tie as if he felt a bit choked.
“It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. It’s the first time I’ve watched.”
Eden felt another blush coming on, then reminded herself she was a doula, for pity’s sake. A woman’s body and the way it operated before, during and after pregnancy was her area of expertise. Breast feeding was more natural than nine-tenths of the things people did in public. She’d breastfed comfortably and inconspicuously in her doctor’s office, in a restaurant booth and, once, in a cozy chair tucked into a corner of the public library.
And now she really needed to change breasts. She gave herself a quick pop quiz. Multiple choice.
When confronted by a gorgeous man watching you breastfeed, do you:
A) Cover yourself and tell him to scram?
B) Continue to breastfeed, but drape yourself with diapers, baby blanket and, if available, a pup tent?
C) Pause to call the La Leche League and ask someone there for emergency advice? Or,
D) Behave as the mature, self-actualized woman you are and proceed with confidence?
She chose D.
Fortunately, she had large hands for a woman, which facilitated holding and maneuvering Liam securely.
Offering Liam a little encouragement to detach from her right breast, she let him rest atop the Boppy while she refastened her bra and allowed the T-shirt to drop into place. Giving his belly a brief, loud nuzzle as she transferred him to her left side, she settled him, lifted her T-shirt, unfastened the bra and kept her head down while she helped him latch on.
She didn’t have to look up to know LJ watched her every move. She felt his frank gaze.
“If you’re thinking about putting this in a commercial, forget about it.”