before opening the refrigerator. “You want something to eat? Drink? Maybe a bottle of one of Jax’s precious Belgian beers?” Linc glanced over his shoulder at her, holding up a dark bottle. “Suppose not,” he answered before she could, and stuck the beer back on the shelf. “Milk is probably still more your speed.”
She assumed that wasn’t a compliment. “I don’t need anything, thank you. And what’s wrong with milk, anyway?”
“Not a thing.” He pulled out a bottle of mineral water and let the door swing closed as he twisted off the cap. “If you’re ten years old.”
She made a face at him.
He sat down on one of the other bar stools. “Or nursing an ulcer.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“So I’ve heard.”
No doubt. He was more the type to cause them in someone else.
Despite everything, the thought felt uncharitable.
Layla’s warm little body was growing heavier as she relaxed.
The only sounds in the kitchen came from the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and Layla’s faint sighs as she worked the nipple.
Maddie swallowed. Her lips felt dry. She stared at the white veins in the dark gray soapstone counter, trying not to be so aware of him sitting only a few feet away. “Hard to believe it’s going to be Christmas soon,” she said, feeling a little desperate to say something. “The year’s gone by really fast.”
“Tends to do that the older you get.”
She snuck a glance at his solemn profile. “You sound like your grandmother.”
His lips kicked up before he lifted the green bottle to his mouth again.
“I remember the way she always decorated this place for Christmas.” When Layla’s head lolled a little, Maddie set aside the nearly empty bottle and lifted the baby to her shoulder to rub her back. Layla promptly burped and snuggled her face against Maddie’s neck. “She always had the tallest Christmas trees. Tallest I’d ever seen, at least. Up until my grandmother, Vivian, moved to Weaver a little while ago from back East.”
“We’ve met.”
Maddie blinked but then dismissed her surprise. Why wouldn’t Vivian Archer Templeton—who was Richie Rich-rich thanks to Pennsylvania steel and a bunch of wealthy dead husbands—have met the guy who ran Swift Oil? “Anyway,” she went on, “Vivian’s tree was crazy tall the same way Ernestine’s used to be. My grandmother’s was more like an untouchable art piece, though. All covered in crystal and gold. What I remember about the trees here is that they were much homier.” Popcorn garlands. Popsicle-stick ornaments. Real candy canes that Jax would sneak to school and share with Maddie and her sisters. “Her trees were like the ones my mother had. Only more than twice the size.”
“My grandmother did love Christmas,” Linc agreed. “I also think she was trying to make up for what Jax and I didn’t have at home.”
Maddie slid him a glance, surprised by the personal admission. “I must have been in junior high before I realized that you and Jax didn’t actually live here all the time with her.”
“Would have been easier if we had.” He rested his forearms on the island and slowly rotated the water bottle with his long, blunt-edged fingertips. “She always dragged us to church when we stayed here.” His hazel gaze drifted her way. “Could have done without being forced into a necktie for that.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Jax always complained about having to wear a tie, too.”
“Only good thing about going was knowing that Ernestine’s pew was across the aisle from your folks’ pew. Could watch the lot of you crammed between Meredith and Carter, wriggling and whispering and wanting to be anywhere else just as bad as me and Jax.”
For some reason, his observation unnerved her. “Church wasn’t so bad.” She still went most every week, after all. The church pew that his grandmother had always occupied was typically filled now by the mayor and his family.
She turned so that Linc would be able to see Layla’s face. “Is she still awake?”
“Her eyes are closed. Looks asleep to me.”
“Success.” She carefully slid off the barstool. “And back to bed for everyone.” She started to leave the room, but Linc didn’t make any move to follow. “G’night.”
“Night, Maddie.”
A shiver danced down her spine.
She blamed it on a draft and quickly left the kitchen.
Even when she’d reached the top of the stairs, the light was still on in the kitchen.
For all she knew, he was often awake at two in the morning.
Which didn’t matter to her one bit. Because she couldn’t stand him, after all.
She padded silently down the hall and back into the nursery. Moving at a snail’s pace lest Layla awaken, she gingerly lowered the baby back into the crib. And then she didn’t breathe for what seemed another few minutes while she waited for Layla to stir.
When the baby just continued lying there, breathing softly, arms raised next to her head, fingers lightly curled into fists, Maddie finally exhaled. She leaned over the edge of the crib and gently covered Layla with the woven throw.
“Shoot for daylight next time,” she whispered, before straightening and crossing to the closet to turn off the light.
Then she returned to her bedroom. There, she stretched out on the bed once more and pulled the blanket across herself.
As tired as she was, though, all she did was stare into the dark.
Not thinking about her old friend Jax, and where he might be, or when he might return. And whether or not he really was Layla’s father.
No. All she could think about was Linc.
And that dang shiver she’d felt when he’d said her name.
* * *
Both the females under his roof were still sleeping.
Linc finished silently closing the wooden blinds hanging in the window of the nursery. When the morning light was no longer shining through, he crossed the room, hesitating at the doorway into the adjoining room, even though he’d been determined not to.
He’d already glanced through the opening once.
Just long enough to see Maddie’s long dark hair strewn across a white pillow.
An image that was going to be hell on him until he could banish it from his memory.
If he could banish it.
It didn’t even matter that beneath the blanket, Maddie was fully dressed. The sight was still more tempting than any he’d seen in too long a time.
And, if she woke up and turned over, seeing him standing in the doorway leering at her, she’d grab up Layla and be out of there in a flash.
It was only that very real possibility that finally made him move away and leave the nursery altogether.
He didn’t return to his own suite at the far end of the hall. He’d already showered and dressed for the day. He’d done it in record time, half expecting to hear Layla wailing at any moment.
But all had been peaceful in the nursery.
It was just inside his own head that everything was turbulent.
He usually spent most of his time at the office, even on the weekends. Swift Oil hadn’t been the three-man operation Gus Swift had founded for a very long time. The company Linc had been entrusted with was now one of the major employers in the state. Certainly the major employer in Braden. The only company in the region