A Secret Colton Baby. Karen Whiddon
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Pretty soon the kitchen smelled like eggs and sausage and coffee. The hired hands begin to drift in, one by one, hanging up their jackets and wiping off their work boots on the mat just inside the back door before heading to their table in the adjoining room.
The casserole seemed to be a big hit, judging from the appreciative comments and requests for seconds. He’d already put the second one in and it had finished cooking just as he scooped the last bit out of the first pan.
The hands finished eating, several of them joking and laughing and clapping him on the back, calling him a damn good cook. As they filed out, Theo began to wonder why Ellie hadn’t yet put in an appearance.
Surely what had almost happened last night hadn’t made her skittish?
Fear stabbed him. What if she was sick? Or Amelia? Gemma wouldn’t be here for another hour or so. Trying to contain his rising panic, he rushed to Ellie’s room, finding the door closed. Taking a deep breath, he tapped lightly. When he received no answer, he went ahead and opened the door.
Inside, he heard water running and realized she was in the shower. Amelia gurgled, awake in her crib. He went closer and swore she smiled at him, flailing her tiny hands. Glancing toward the open bathroom door, Theo leaned over the crib, reaching for the baby. His hands looked huge even to him as he unbuttoned her Onesie so he could check her diaper. It was dry, which meant Ellie had changed her. He noticed two empty baby bottles on the dresser. One had to be from last night. The other meant Ellie had already been downstairs to make her formula and fed her. He had no idea when, but it had to have been before sunrise.
Amelia cooed, and Theo felt his smile widen. He’d never been much for babies—hell, what guy was—but this one seemed cuter than most.
“Well, good morning,” he said, in what he thought might be a reasonable facsimile of baby talk. “You look mighty pretty this morning.”
And then he’d be damned, but Amelia latched her teeny, tiny, wrinkled pink fist on to his finger and held on as if she knew what she was doing.
Throat tight, he stood still and let her.
A moment later the shower cut off. “I’m in here with Amelia,” he called out, just in case Ellie planned to walk out here naked or something. For his own protection as well, because baby or no baby, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist a nude Ellie. In fact, even thinking about it...
He forced his thoughts back to the baby, picking her up and holding her close as if she were also a shield.
“Morning.” Ellie wandered into the room, wrapped tightly in a towel, wearing another on her head like a turban. She looked pink and young and absolutely delectable.
Glad he was holding the baby, he managed a friendly smile. “I got worried when you didn’t come down for breakfast.”
“I’m sorry.” She sounded anything but. “I got up early to take care of Amelia and then came back up here and feel asleep. You’d promised to take care of feeding the hands, so I decided not to worry about that.”
Her gentle dig made him want to laugh. Instead he nodded. “There’s still some egg casserole left if you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving. I’ll come down and warm it up after I finish getting ready. Do you want to take Amelia with you or...”
A not so subtle request for him to go. He almost offered to take the baby with him, but then he realized he wouldn’t know what to do if she cried or needed something. No, he’d need a bit more practice and experience before he tried handling her alone.
“I’ll just put her back in her crib,” he said, pretending not to notice her disappointed expression. “Come on downstairs when you’re ready. Gemma will be here in a couple of hours.”
“Ninety minutes,” she corrected automatically. “You said eight-thirty. It’s seven now.”
“Right.” Once he had gently placed Amelia back, he carefully avoided looking at Ellie or going anywhere close to her. His hands were empty now and already he was itching to fill them.
Giving himself a mental shake, he hurried from her room and back down to the kitchen.
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