was going on in there probably wasn’t any of her business.
Her friends said she spent too much time worrying about other folks’ problems and not enough on her own. But really, besides her broken heart, what problems did she have?
Okay, sure, she got lonely now that she lived an hour south of her grandmother. And her parents’ current gig in a remote province of China meant she rarely got to talk to them. But other than that, she had it pretty good, and—
Waaaaaaa!
Call her a busybody, but enough was enough.
She couldn’t bear standing around listening to a helpless baby cry—maybe even more than one helpless baby.
Her first knock on the bachelor fireman’s door was gentle. Ladylike. That of a concerned neighbor.
When it didn’t work, she gave the door a few hard thuds.
She was just about to investigate the patio when the door flew open. “Patti? Where the—oh. Sorry. Thought you were my sister.”
Annie gaped.
What else could she do faced with the handsomest man she’d ever seen—hugging not one baby, not two babies, but three? Each red faced and screaming. Triplets?
On teacher autopilot, she reached for the most miserable-looking one, automatically cradling the poor, trembling thing against her left shoulder.
“Hi,” she said, lightly jiggling the baby while at the same time smoothing her fingers down the back of her head—her judging by the pink terry-cloth pjs. “I’m your new neighbor, Annie Harnesberry. I don’t mean to be nosy, but it sounded like you might need help.”
The guy sort-of laughed, showing lots of white teeth. “Yeah. My, um, little sis left me with these guys over twenty-six hours ago. She was supposed to be back at two yesterday afternoon, but—”
Annie’s triplet had calmed, so she brushed past her neighbor to place the child gingerly in a pink bunny-covered car seat. Then she took another of his screaming babies for herself.
“Don’t mean to be pushy,” she said, “and please, go on with your story about your sister, but occupational hazard—I just can’t stand hearing a child cry.”
“Me, too,” he said, wincing when the baby he held launched a whole new set of screams. “I’m a fireman. Jed Hale. What do you do?” He awkwardly held out his hand for her to shake.
“I’m a preschool teacher now, but used to work with infants in a day care. I ran a pretty tight nursery.” She winked. “No crying allowed on my watch.”
“Admirable.” He grinned, and his boyish-yet-all-man charm warmed Annie to her toes.
She soon calmed the second baby, then put him—judging by his blue terry-cloth pjs—alongside his sister in a blue giraffe-upholstered carrier.
She took the remaining infant in her arms, and, like magic, after a few jiggles he fell into a deep sleep.
“Wow,” the boy’s uncle said with a look of awe. “How’d you do that?”
Annie shrugged, easing the last snoozing triplet into his seat. “Practice. My major was premed with a minor in child development. Seems like I spent half my college career in the campus nursery studying infants. They’re fascinating.”
He leaned against the open door. “Sounds pretty bookish for a preschool teacher. I didn’t even know you had to go to college for that—I mean, not that you shouldn’t have to, but—”
“I know what you mean. I always wanted to be a child psychiatrist. Not sure why. Just one of those things.” She didn’t have a clue why she was standing here in this stranger’s home, spilling her guts about stuff she hadn’t thought of in years. Reddening, she said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble—or barge in. Now that you’ve got everything under control, I’ll just mosey off to my magazine.” She backed out of his condo and hooked her thumb toward her patio. Whew.
The man’s eyes were gorgeous. Brown shot with the same flecks of gold she’d like on her bathroom walls. Opulent and rich and definitely all grown-up. As yummy as that spoonful of hot fudge swirled with caramel! The decorating version of course…
Although she wasn’t in the market for a man herself, should she try fixing him up with one of the other teachers at her school?
“Don’t leave,” Jed said, hating the needy whine in his tone. He’d always prided himself on never needing anyone, but this woman he didn’t just need, he had to have. He had no idea what magic she’d used to zonk out his niece and nephews. However, if his sister didn’t arrive to claim her offspring in the next thirty seconds, it’d be a pretty safe bet he’d need Annie’s special brand of baby tranquilizer all over again. “Really, stay,” he said, urging her inside. “I’ve been meaning to bring over a frozen pizza or something. You know, do the whole Welcome Wagon neighbor thing. But we’ve had some guys out sick and on vacation, so I’ve been pulling double shifts.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I’m due back in a few hours, but my sis should be here way before then.”
Now who was the one rambling?
Jed could’ve kicked himself for going on and on. Not only did he have a desperate need for this woman, but now that he’d been standing next to her for a good fifteen minutes, he was starting to admire more than her babysitting skills.
She was cute.
Hot in a G-rated sort of way.
Loopy blond curls kissed her shoulders and neck. A curve-hugging white T-shirt gave tantalizing peeks at cleavage and a great, all-over tan. And seeing how she was now up to a PG-13, how about those great legs in the jean shorts?
Damn.
Not too long, not too short. Just right for—
Waaaaaaaaa!
Triple damn.
He sure loved Patti’s little critters, but they were in serious need of a few lessons on how not to screw up Uncle Jed’s chances with his hot new neighbor.
“He’s probably hungry,” she said, marching over to the carrier and picking up his squalling nephew. “Got any bottles?”
Her lips. Man. When she talked they did this funny little curvy thing at the corners. Made him want to hear her talk about something other than babies. Where she’d moved from and where she one day wanted to go. Why she’d wanted to be a child psychiatrist but ended up teaching preschool.
“Jed?” Annie grinned. “You okay? If you’d just point the way to the bottles, I’ll go ahead and feed this guy while you take a breather.”
“I’m good,” he said with a shake of his head. “The bottles are in here.”
He led her to the kitchen. A tight, beige-walled cell of a room he usually avoided by eating at the station or feasting on takeout in front of the TV.
He took a bottle from the fridge, then turned to the woman behind him. “Want me to nuke it?”
