really.”
True. Mackenzie didn’t involve herself much with the Kids’ Club that Emma ran. And when they’d been younger, Emma had babysat a ton while Mackenzie had given riding lessons to earn spending money.
The two of them were night-and-day different but managed to get along. For that, Emma was thankful.
She cleared her dishes and said goodbye to her sister, then hopped back into her car, which still held a bit of the warmth from when she’d driven it home early this morning.
When she arrived at Gage’s, the time on her dash read seven thirty. It was crazy early in the morning to arrive at someone’s house, but she doubted Gage would complain.
Emma grabbed her purse and her to-go mug of steeping tea. Three cups was more than her norm, but she needed the extra—albeit small—boost of caffeine it would offer.
She stood on the step of Gage’s sprawling ranch house and knocked lightly. It had been his uncle’s ranch until a few years ago. Kip Frasier. A quiet but sweet man who always kept candy in his pocket at church and would dole it out to kids. He’d never married or had children of his own. When he’d passed away, he’d left the ranch to Gage. People really liked to leave things to the man. Land. House. Baby.
Gage had lived here only a little over two years.
The door swung open. Gage’s hair was damp as if he’d recently showered, and he wore a plaid shirt unbuttoned over a white T-shirt with jeans and leather slippers.
Gage Frasier, you are one attractive man.
One who, unfortunately, didn’t see her as anything more than a neighbor or his friend’s little sister. Emma wasn’t even on his datable radar.
The only good part about Gage not being interested in her in that way—besides the fact that she’d never be able to give up on the dream of having children—was that she wouldn’t have to admit to him that she had something in common with his ex-wife.
Before Nicole had run off with James the Homewrecker, Emma had dated him.
The whole ordeal was embarrassing. Mortifying. She’d been so naive and foolish. Emma should have known immediately that everything James spouted was a lie—as if anyone would ever find her as irresistible as he had claimed she was—but she’d allowed herself to be swept away by his flattering words and gestures. He’d been as fake and slimy as the toy goo her niece Ruby liked to play with.
“Morning.” Gage’s voice had that scratchy, unused-as-of-yet quality.
“How’s Hudson? How’d the night go? Did either of you sleep?”
His mouth tugged up at the corners, and her girlish hopes and dreams gave a collective sigh at what would never be. “Come in, Emma.”
She did, the quiet click of the door sounding behind her. There was no sign of the baby anywhere...
She took off her coat, and Gage hung it in the front closet, storing her purse, too. She set her tea on the entry table as Gage motioned for her to follow him. They walked down the hall and into the guest bedroom. With beige walls and a simple olive green bedspread on the full-size bed, the room was masculine. If Hudson stayed, she’d offer to help redo it into something more fitting for a baby boy. Maybe with a vintage airplane theme in honor of his father, Zeke. A nice framed sketch or two, with a light blue color on the walls. Brown accents.
Getting ahead of yourself, girl. Rein it in.
Emma didn’t even know how the night had gone, and here she was, planning the future.
Hudson was asleep on his back in the portable crib, one chubby hand above his head in a fist like he was cheering in victory. As if sensing their presence, his eyelids fluttered, then opened.
“What a good boy you are! You slept in your own bed? Such a big boy.” Emma had him in her arms before he could consider crying.
“Actually, he slept with me in the recliner for most of the night.” Visions of Hudson snoozing on Gage’s chest made her own constrict.
Was there a more attractive picture than that?
Emma laid him on the bed and proceeded to change his diaper while he studied both her and Gage. Hudson arched his back when she tried to put his footie pajamas back on his feet, so she tickled his tummy, distracting him so that she could finish the task.
“Are you hungry?” Emma asked Hudson as she picked him back up.
“Ba.”
“Ba,” she repeated back to him. “That could mean yes. Or no. Or nothing.” Her amusement earned a drowsy smile from him in return. “Do you like scrambled eggs?” Those were soft. Or he might prefer a bottle or pureed baby food. “Let’s go figure out some breakfast.”
The three of them moved into the kitchen. “Here.” She handed the baby to Gage and retrieved the eggs from the fridge. She knew they’d be inside because she’d asked Mackenzie to pick up groceries yesterday morning to leave at Gage’s. Just in case he didn’t have much. He was, after all, a guy. And based on past conversations, she didn’t think Gage was much of a cook.
Gage held Hudson facing out so he could see his surroundings. Still not perfectly at ease, but better than last night. “Andrea—his previous nanny—already texted this morning to check on him.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Definitely. I told her he’s doing well. Not that I knew exactly how he would wake up. But at least then you’d be here, so I wouldn’t have to worry.”
“Sounds like you two did great.” Emma flashed a grin at Hudson as she made her way to the stove with the eggs and a carton of milk. He kicked and waved his arms in answer. “Sweet boy.” She leaned in, pressing numerous kisses to his forehead. “If you slept all night, I bet you’re hungry.”
Emma turned to Gage’s cupboards and scrounged for a bowl, hiding a megawatt smile. It had worked! Her plan to abandon Gage and Hudson had panned out.
Gage hadn’t answered all of the questions she’d lobbed at him while on his front step, but he wasn’t a haggard mess. He’d managed a shower. That had to be a good sign.
Emma had hoped and prayed Hudson would sleep well. She’d also anticipated some fussiness or possibly a meltdown—from him or Gage. But the scenario she’d walked into this morning was way better than she’d imagined.
Maybe convincing Gage to keep the baby would be easier than she’d thought.
* * *
“He didn’t exactly sleep all night.”
Emma cracked an egg and emptied it into the glass bowl, placing the shell on a paper towel. “Oh, he didn’t? That’s a bummer. So what happened? Did he cry?”
“He woke up at about five.”
Her hand froze midcrack on the second egg, clear liquid sliding down the outside of the glass bowl. She finished dumping in what was left, then wiped up the spill with a paper towel. After foraging a piece of shell out of the eggs, she tossed the
