bristled. “Don’t make fun of me, James Buchanan Kavanagh. I might have to shoot you in cold blood, and then what would poor Sybbie do? Her aunt in prison and her only babysitter deader than dead.”
He raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “Message received. Show me where the cable remote is and go to bed. Little Princess and I will be fine.”
Lila hesitated. “Seriously, James? This isn’t your problem. You have to work tomorrow.”
“So do you,” he said firmly. “And it’s a good bet that juggling Sybbie for twelve hours will be a heckuva lot harder than sitting behind your desk all day.”
“Is that a criticism?” She was tired, but not too tired to give him grief.
“Only an observation.” He took the baby from her. “I can find the remote on my own. Go. You’re about to fall over.”
Her gorgeous blue eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, James.”
Lila was not the crying type. Tomorrow it would piss her off that he had seen her at such a vulnerable point. But there was nothing he could do about that. “It’s not a big deal, Lila. Get some sleep.”
The fact that she obeyed him without further protest told him she was at the end of her rope. This was only her first week as a mom. How was she going to manage?
Shaking off his disquiet, he concentrated on the little girl who nestled so trustingly in his arms. She was tired. Anybody could see that. Maybe it was the new surroundings that had her out of sorts. Poor kid wouldn’t understand why her parents weren’t around...or why she wasn’t in her familiar bedroom.
“Come on, little Sybbie. Let’s see what Aunt Lila has on late-night cable.”
Seeing the soft, high-end leather sofa gave him a weird vibe. He and Lila had spent many a night cuddling on that particular piece of furniture. Nothing good would come of dwelling on those memories. It would only make him horny, and tonight he had better things to do than rehash old love affairs.
By the time he settled into the soft cushions, dimmed the lights and wrapped an afghan around the baby, little Sybbie was yawning. He rubbed her back and sang to her softly about small spiders and babies rocking in trees. She smelled good...like babies were supposed to smell.
He was struck by a bolt of sadness that made no sense. Everything in his life was going great. It was true he envied his brothers and their growing families, but he was young. He had plenty of time to find the kind of woman his siblings had found. Then it would be time for him to do the whole slippers-by-the-fire thing. Making sure Sybbie was secure against his chest, he yawned and closed his eyes. The baby was asleep already. He would catch a few z’s before she woke up again. That’s what all the baby experts said. Sleep when the baby sleeps...
* * *
Lila fell into bed and was dead to the world in seconds. An hour later, though, she sat straight up, her heart racing in a panicked rhythm. Sybbie. Where was she?
Everything came crashing back. The past day and night had been a challenge, but Lila had done everything she was supposed to do. Sybbie had eaten a good dinner of pears and sweet potatoes, Gerber style. Then, she had seemed perfectly happy and normal when Lila got out a collection of small metal pots and pans and colorful plastic containers. She even laughed when Lila built towers on the rug and helped Sybbie knock them down.
Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred until Lila tried to give the baby her bedtime bottle. Lila had researched the appropriate formulas and amounts. Carefully, she tested the temperature on her wrist to make sure it was exactly right. Sybbie responded with a happy gurgle.
What was supposed to happen next was that the baby went to sleep until morning. Unfortunately, Sybbie hadn’t read the same baby manuals. She finished her bottle and wanted to play again. That lasted until midnight, at which point she threw a baby-sized tantrum.
It wasn’t the little one’s fault. Poor sweetheart had had her life turned upside down. Knowing the cause, though, didn’t help when Lila’s body craved sleep. Getting James’s text was a lifesaver. She probably shouldn’t have accepted his offer so quickly, but she had been almost comatose.
Now she’d had just enough of a snooze that her adrenaline was flowing again. The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Carefully, she crept down the stairs, avoiding the ones that squeaked. If Sybbie was asleep, she dared not wake her up.
The scene in the living room took her heart and gave it a good hard twist, almost a physical pain. The lights were low. The TV was on, but the sound was muted. James was stretched out with his feet propped on the coffee table. Sybbie slept blissfully on James’s chest, her knees tucked under her and her little bottom up in the air.
The afghan had fallen to the floor, but neither man nor baby seemed to care.
What should she do now? With the hour of good, solid sleep she’d had, surely she could take over and let James go home. But it seemed a shame to wake him. Not only that, if they disturbed the baby, all of James’s efforts would have been in vain.
Lila yawned. According to the mantel clock, it was still a good two hours before the sun would come up. She might as well join them. Grabbing the afghan off the floor, she covered her two guests and found a blanket of her own. She curled up in the recliner and closed her eyes.
* * *
James groaned, trying to figure out why his back ached and why the dog was sitting on his chest. He opened his eyes and blinked. The world came into focus slowly. It was eight o’clock in the morning, and his charge still slept peacefully. He needed to hit the john, but he didn’t want to disturb the child.
Across the room, Lila was a lump in the recliner, the top of her head barely visible above the edge of her blanket. He smiled in spite of his physical discomfort. She must have come downstairs at some point and not wanted to wake him.
Evidently, he made a noise in spite of himself, because she jerked straight up in the chair and stared around the room wild-eyed.
He waved a hand to get her attention. “Everything is fine,” he whispered. “The baby’s still sleeping.”
Lila stood up and stretched, giving him a mouthwatering view of her flat belly and cute navel. “Thank God for that,” she muttered. Then she frowned at him. “Why are you still here? You have to go to work.”
Her tone irritated him. “You might try saying, ‘Thank you, James.’ ‘You saved my butt, James.’”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I do appreciate it.” She sounded like a little kid being forced to thank Grandma for an ugly Christmas sweater.
Their entire conversation was being conducted in whispers. Thankfully, Sybbie was sleeping so deeply now, she never stirred. She had missed out on several hours of slumber the night before. Clearly, she was making up for lost time.
Carefully, he stood up, his hand cradling the baby’s back. “If you’ll take her, I’ll go home and get ready for work. I wouldn’t leave, but I promised Mrs. Bellamy that I’d finish stabilizing her banister and newel post this morning.”
Lila was flushed, either from sleep or because she was flustered. “Of course you have to go.”
They finessed the baby transfer without a hitch.
James rubbed the crick in his neck. “Can you manage ordering the baby bed?”
“Yes,” Lila said, her voice curt. “I’m not totally incompetent.”
“I never said you were.”
They stared at each other across the room, the sofa between them. Old wounds had inexplicably opened up, leaving both of them on edge.
Lila sighed deeply. “I apologize, James, for being so touchy. It’s the lack of sleep. I’m extremely grateful for everything you did last night.”
He nodded.