When you were a kid, did you ever have a favorite pet?”
“My hamster, Buzzy.”
“Great. So how did you hold him?”
“I stuck him in my hoodie pocket.” He grinned.
Emma frowned.
Licking her lips, trying with everything in her to be patient, she said, “How would you hold a woman? Someone you genuinely care about?”
“Hell…” He scratched his head. “It’s been a while. And anyway, what does holding a baby have to do with a girlfriend?”
“Technically, nothing. But inside, everything. It’s the same general idea in that the way you hold someone shows how you feel about them. Don’t you think that when you hold Bea in a standoffish way, she can tell you don’t like her?”
“Hey,” Jace said, straightening into a defensive pose. “She’s my kid. Of course I like her.”
“I know. All I’m saying is that you should display your affection not just through words, but actions. Like this.” Leaning close enough to Jace that she caught the leathery scent of his masculine deodorant and soap, she gently positioned Bea against the natural curve of Jace’s chest. She next urged his arms around the infant so that rather than merely supporting her, he held her. Sheltered her. Gave her the security a baby girl deserved from her father.
“Wow,” he said, nuzzling the crown of Bea’s head. “I get it. That really does make a difference. It feels like she’s connected to me.”
“See?” Emma said, heart swelling. All too well, she remembered holding Henry close. Feeling that as long as she held him he’d feel safe and loved. “I told you so.”
“And I’ve gotta say that this is one time I don’t mind being put in my place. Thanks.” Jace smiled, and the sincerity behind his eyes stole Emma’s breath.
In that instant, not only had Jace connected with Bea, but with Emma, and the realization was somehow exhilarating and appalling.
Sharply, Emma looked away.
“I was just thinking,” he said, “since I’m home early, we might—”
“Sorry,” she said, standing, “but I just remembered that I have an appointment. Think you can handle getting the girls home on your own?”
“Yeah, but—”
Fighting a queer tightness in her throat, a panicky need to be free of his piercing green stare, she started off down the winding trail. “Really, I have to go.”
Chapter Four
“Son,” Jace’s mom said that night on the phone from her RV campground in Maine. She and his dad had been touring the east coast all summer, but if you asked Jace’s opinion, it was past time they hightailed it home. “I wish I could tell you what to do, but you’re a grown man, capable of getting yourself into huge messes, and I pray to God every day that you’re equally as capable of getting yourself out.”
“That’s just it, Mom, this isn’t my ordinary mess. Those I can fly or sweet talk my way out of, but this…”
She laughed. “For this, you’re going to have to use your heart.”
He wasn’t going to dignify that with a comment.
“Once you find this Vicki woman—and you will—swallow your pride and marry her. The rest will work itself out.”
“M-marry her? She abandoned her own kids! Why would I want to live the rest of my life with a woman like that?”
“Man up, Jace. That’s what Oprah would say.”
Jace rolled his eyes. Great. Looks like his mom had a new favorite afternoon show. Whatever happened to her quoting The Young and the Restless? “Mom, how about putting Dad on the phone?”
“He’s off sailing with our new friends, Ed and Louise. They have the sweetest little boat moored in Bar Harbor.”
Swell.
“You were always a stubborn, strong-willed child, Jace, but this is one time when you need to put aside what you think about this whole matter, and surrender to what you feel.”
After hanging up, Jace realized he should have stayed on the line, asking his mom why he couldn’t seem to figure out exactly what he felt.
That afternoon, in the park with Emma, when she’d shown him how to hold Bea properly, for a split second an unfamiliar warmth had crept through him. But then Emma had left, and so had his warm-and-fuzzies.
He knew in his head that he was a father. That he’d suddenly been thrust into a role of responsibility larger than anything else with which he’d been charged. So what was wrong with him that he couldn’t connect that knowledge with his heart?
“GOOD MORNING.” At five-thirty the next morning, Jace opened his front door to a dark, pouring rain, and a soggy Emma.
Thunder rolled.
Taking her umbrella, then ushering her inside, he said, “Did you make it to your appointment?”
“My what?” Emma set down her purse, and then shrugged out of her yellow raincoat, hanging it dripping on the hook beside the door.
“Yesterday, when you left the park, you said you had an appointment.”
“Oh.” She looked away. “I forgot.”
“Why’d you lie to me, Em? Why the rush to get away?”
“First, my name’s Emma, and second, I…” As if utterly spent, she crumpled onto the sofa. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have to be anywhere. I just couldn’t be around you any longer.”
Jace winced. “What’d I do?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry. Please don’t fire me.”
“Fire you?” Grabbing his cell phone from a charger, he parked alongside her, checking for messages. “Why would I do that?”
“For lying.”
“Then you admit it?”
“Again, I’m sorry.” She had a funny look on her face. As if she wanted to say more, but wouldn’t. “I, um, was having female problems.”
“Whoa—” Turning all of his attention to rummaging through his flight bag, he said, “say no more. That’s all I needed to hear.” Plus, he was damned glad she hadn’t been ticked at him. His track record with women wasn’t all that great, and he sure as hell didn’t need to lose his girls’ nanny this soon into her tenure.
“Want something to eat before you head out into this nasty weather?”
“What about your, er, problems? Because with those sorts of—you know…” He flopped his hands on his lap, gesturing
