Claire-bear. I’m here,” she whispered, lifting her baby out of the portable crib. She kissed her warm cheek, changed her into a fresh one-piece sleeper and returned to the kitchen, fighting a funny feeling of confusion in the pit of her stomach.
For some reason or another she’d expected Andrew Teaberry to be older. Like sixty. Not thirty-five or so. She also hadn’t expected fathomless dark eyes or gorgeous black hair. The hitch in her breath and the way her stomach had plummeted when she’d looked at him were also surprises.
Grabbing a bottle from the refrigerator, she told herself to stop thinking about how attractive her new employer was and get her baby fed and into her carrier before he returned from getting his bags. She wasn’t sure how or where they’d work in this dusty house, but she wasn’t assuming anything. From the way he’d instantly dealt with his son for calling her babe, it was clear he wasn’t a man who took well to mistakes or assumptions. So she wouldn’t make any.
She placed the bottle in the warmer she’d brought. As it heated, Claire began to cry. Gwen tried to comfort her, but her crying only grew louder.
“Come on, sweetie. I know you’re hungry, but it will only take a minute to warm your bottle.”
Just then the swinging door swung open and Drew burst inside. His horrified gaze fell to Claire, then swung back to Gwen. “Is that a baby?”
She laughed nervously. “Well, it’s not a Siamese cat.” She rocked her sobbing child, trying to get her to settle down. This was no way for him to meet her baby! “This is my daughter Claire.”
He gaped at her. “You brought your baby to work?”
This time the flip-flop of Gwen’s stomach had nothing to do with the attractiveness of her boss and everything to do with fear. “I told you about Claire in my interview.”
“You told me you had a child. You didn’t say you were bringing her with you.”
Drew’s loud voice caused Claire’s crying to rise in competition. Gwen desperately rocked her, but the baby filled the room with her wails.
Gwen had to shout to be heard. “I did say she was still a bit too young to go to daycare and I don’t have a sitter yet. I thought the conclusion was obvious.”
“I thought you said that to let me know you needed time to look for a sitter.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, but I hired you because I need help. Serious help. You’re not going to have time to care for a baby and do your work.”
Gwen’s heart stopped. He was firing her? He couldn’t! She needed this job. “She’s only three months old! She sleeps a lot. I can handle it.”
He looked at the screaming baby, then bestowed a look upon Gwen that sent a shiver through her. “Really?”
Mustering her courage, she said, “Yes!”
“That’s not how it looks to me. I know how this baby thing goes. I had a crying baby. Brody screamed for three months straight. I failed that semester of university. My wife left me—”
Just then the swinging door bounced closed. Gwen hadn’t even realized it had been opened again. With Claire’s crying and their heated conversation she’d missed Brody walking through the room.
Drew’s face paled, then he squeezed his eyes shut. “Perfect.” Heading for the door, he yelled, “Brody!” Then he pushed out of the kitchen.
The light on the bottle warmer finally declared the milk was warm, and Gwen took her baby to a chair to feed her.
This was not going anything like she’d hoped it would. She fed Claire and then sat at the table, totally confused about what she should do. Technically, Drew hadn’t fired her. And she needed this job. She was not leaving without a fight.
Drew ran into the hallway just in time to see the foyer door close. He grabbed his jacket from the newel post on the stairs where he’d stashed it and headed outside.
Brody bounded toward the SUV around the side of the house.
“What are you going to do?” Drew shouted after his son. “Leave?” He dangled the keys. “You’ll need these. Unless you want to walk.”
“What do you care? Mom’s on her honeymoon. You’re trying to buy some old guy’s company. And I’m stuck here.”
“Look, Brody, if I had a choice we’d be skiing right now.”
Brody snorted.
“We would.” The heavy snow had reduced itself to flurries but it was cold. Bitter cold. And he had work to do. Not knowing what else to say, Drew glanced longingly at the kitchen door. Because the top half of the door was glass, he could see Gwen McKenzie at the table with her baby. He nearly groaned. Could this day get any more complicated?
“I’m sorry you heard what you heard, but truthfully I would have thought by now that you would have guessed your mom and I had a terrible marriage. We were only married for just under a year before we divorced.”
Refusing to look at him, Brody said, “And I’m the cause.”
“No!” He laughed miserably. “Lord, no. Your mom and I had lots of problems before you were born.”
“But I added to them—”
“No!” Drew said again, this time stronger.
“I heard what you said about me screaming all the time.”
“You were colicky. That happens. Babies do not destroy marriages. Adults do. Your mom and I never should have gotten married. But she got pregnant—”
Deliberately, she’d told him later. She’d taken out loans to attend her first semester at Harvard and had known four years’ worth of borrowing that kind of money would put her too far in debt when she graduated. Drew’s family was wealthy. He and Olivia had dated and liked each other. So she’d thought they’d be very happy raising a baby and attending university—all paid for by his parents. But his parents had been furious when Drew told them they had gotten married because she was pregnant, and they’d cut him off. The happy marriage that Olivia had envisioned had quickly become a nightmare.
Still, this wasn’t the time or the way to tell Brody all that. And he wasn’t even sure he should be the one to tell Brody.
It seemed this story would be much better coming from his mother.
“How about if we talk later? Right now, I have a mini-crisis in the kitchen.”
Brody sighed and raised his face to the snow. It looked to Drew as if the cool flakes were settling him down, so when he said, “Go,” Drew headed back to the kitchen.
With a deep calming breath of his own, he opened the kitchen door and stepped inside. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Gwen McKenzie slowly raised her gaze to his, her green eyes wary.
He knew she needed this job. He didn’t have to glance at the now sleeping baby to remember that, but he did, and his heart stuttered in his chest. He’d told Brody
