the furniture and lots of the toys were the same. So were the scents.
Darius carried the baby inside. “I think he needs a change. I’d offer to do it,” he smiled engagingly, “but I’ve never changed a diaper in my entire life.”
Smothered by thoughts of her baby, Whitney couldn’t get her legs to move or her mouth to form words. Memories rolled through her mind. In perfect Technicolor she saw the vision of Layla standing up in her crib, holding the bars, crying for her mother. She remembered the Christmas gifts she had bought and hidden in the closet as if little Layla would somehow know to look for them. It had been almost a year before she had been able to clear out the nursery, if only because she couldn’t step inside without crumbling.
But Darius didn’t seem to notice her paralysis. Pulling Gino out of the baby carrier, he said, “I’d be happy to do it, though, if you want to teach me.”
Whitney cleared her throat. “Sure.” Relief swamped her. For as much as she didn’t want Darius taking over Gino’s life, with her grief perilously close to the surface she simply couldn’t handle touching Gino right now. Whether she liked it or not, take-charge Darius was saving her.
She glanced around until she saw the changing table. She pointed at it. “Take him over there.”
Darius carried the sleepy baby to the changing table.
Whitney frowned. “We left the diaper bag in the car.”
“Geoffrey will get it. But there should already be diapers here somewhere. I told the staff to make sure the nursery was stocked.” With one hand holding Gino in place on the table, he opened the doors of the cupboard beneath it. “Ah. There they are.” He reached in and pulled one out with a smile. “The staff is very efficient.”
She took a cautious step to the changing table. “So I see.”
“Now what?”
Forcing back the memories, she pulled in a slow, cleansing breath. Her grief subsiding, she strolled closer. “Unsnap his pajamas and slide him out.”
He unsnapped the one-piece pajamas but was a little rough in getting Gino’s arm out. She laid her hand on top of his. “Gentler.”
“Okay.” He peeked over at her and smiled stupidly. “His skin is soft, like velvet.”
She remembered thinking that very thing the first time she held Layla and swallowed back the grief, pushed back the memory of the nurse laying her brand-new baby girl into her arms. “I know.”
When Gino was out of his pajamas and wearing only his diaper, Whitney pointed at the tabs of his diaper and said, “Yank on those to open the diaper.”
He yanked on the tabs and to everyone’s joy, the diaper was only wet.
Darius said, “Whew.”
Whitney couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Okay, toss that in the container beside the changing table.” She motioned to the available diaper pail. “Slide another diaper under him, fasten the tabs, put him into clean pajamas and you’re done.”
Darius followed her instructions, needing another reminder about being gentle with Gino’s little arms and legs as he tucked them into pajamas. But again he only smiled when she told him.
Her suspicions about Darius came tumbling back. He was too nice. Too eager. Once again she wondered if he wasn’t trying to edge her out. “I’m surprised you want to learn all this.”
He caught her gaze. “Gino is my family now.”
“Oh. So you’re really getting into the daddy thing?” Her voice dripped with skepticism as she asked the question, but she couldn’t help it. A single man—a single rich man—who wanted to care for a baby was more than an anomaly. It was downright weird.
“My dad didn’t have a lot of time for me.” He peered over at her. “Or my brothers, and I don’t want that to happen to Gino. If I’m to be his male influence, I want to do my end of the duties.”
“So you’re going to learn how to do everything? ”
To her surprise, he wasn’t insulted. He laughed. “Hey, I just changed a diaper. I think my commitment has been proven.”
Not even close. Particularly since she didn’t understand why he was making such a hands-on commitment.
Sure, he didn’t want Gino to grow up without a dad. She got it. But there was more here. Her lawyer’s instincts had gone from suspicious to downright positive there was something here she was missing.
“Okay, then tomorrow morning, we’ll hit the ground running with your baby lessons.”
He laughed, but Whitney wasn’t kidding. Not just because she was afraid to touch Gino too much, but because she wanted to push Darius to the wall, give him so much baby time he would own up to what was really going on.
When the baby was dressed, Darius pulled him off the table and gave him a quick hug and kissed his cheek. “Good night, little guy.”
Then he handed the baby to Whitney. Preoccupied with his motives, she didn’t realize what he was about to do and had to scramble to catch Gino.
But the second the yawning baby was in her arms, the feel of his ultra-soft pajamas and smooth skin kicked her back in time again. Especially, when she brought Gino to her and hugged him. The second the little boy was snuggled against her, sadness overwhelmed her. The hollow, empty feeling of loss. Echoes of Layla’s giggles rolled through her brain. Memories of her lifeless body haunted her.
She pulled Gino away from her shoulder and swallowed. Then, for Darius’s benefit, she offered the baby a wobbly smile. “Good night, Gino,” she whispered hoarsely, hoping Darius didn’t notice she was trembling.
Because she wanted to cry. She missed her baby. She yearned for the life she’d lost. Was that so bad? So hard to understand?
She stopped. No. That wasn’t so bad. Or so difficult to comprehend. In fact, the smart way to handle her situation with Gino might be to tell Darius about Layla and Burn. She didn’t want his sympathy, but it was clear now that she would have difficulty getting adjusted to caring for a baby. Soon Darius would notice. It would be better to get the story out in the open and solicit his help than to have him see her stumble and question her ability to care for his little brother.
But tonight wasn’t the night for that conversation. With his motives now in question, she knew she had to wait a bit, see what he was up to before she bared her soul. If he was trying to get the baby away from her, she didn’t want to hand him over on a silver platter. She’d wait. See if he didn’t tip his hand or, alternatively, convince her that his motives were good.
Once the baby was in bed, Darius caught Whitney’s arm and turned her to the door. “It’s late. I’ll show you to your room then we can have dinner.”
Exhausted, confused and aching for privacy, she woodenly said, “I’m too tired for dinner.”
“Really?” As they stepped out of the nursery and into the hall, he closed the door behind them. “I instructed Mrs. Tucker to have the cook make chicken and dumplings.”
She
