this mean you’re ready to move on—romantically, too?” Amy asked.
Winnifred’s expression became closed. “I’ll never marry again,” she said. “You know that.”
Except, Amy thought, if she was correct in her observations, her aunt already loved someone—Harry—even if Winnifred wouldn’t yet admit it to herself. “So,” Amy said, getting out her notepad as she realized time was really getting away from her. She was supposed to be back at the cottage in less than an hour, as per her baby-sitting agreement with Nick. She smiled at Winnifred. “What did you have in mind?”
DEXTER WOKE UP grumpy from his nap, and he stayed grumpy, no matter what Nick did. Although Nick had gotten lucky when he’d figured out how Dexter, who was used to being breast-fed, might want to take his bottle, he had no idea what to do with a cranky baby who’d already had a nap, had his diaper changed and had no interest in eating again yet. So Nick tried to remember some of the tips he’d seen on various television shows he’d produced.
He walked Dexter outside. He rocked him inside. He sang to him. He cuddled him. He put him down on a soft blanket on the floor. He waved toys in front of his face. He made silly sounds, even sillier faces. He soothed, he pleaded, he begged until he was up and walking the floors with the baby and close to shedding a few tears himself.
And it was then, Nick noted with resentment and relief, that Amy walked in the front door. She was lugging her canvas briefcase and several large wallpaper and carpet sample books. She looked harried and tired, and it was quickly apparent from the indignant scowl on her face that she blamed Nick for Dexter’s crying spell. Dropping her belongings in a heap, she rushed to Dexter and scooped him out of Nick’s arms.
Dexter quieted immediately as he gazed adoringly into Amy’s face. Nick didn’t know whether to be consoled or annoyed that she so easily did what he had just spent more than an hour trying to accomplish. “Obviously he likes you more,” Nick said with a sigh, recalling—without wanting to—a similar situation in which he had failed a child, badly. Nick clenched his jaw. “So maybe you should take care of him from now on.” Judging by the way his nephew was behaving, it would certainly be better for Dexter.
Amy’s chin jutted out stubbornly. She angled her head at him, looking both pretty and furious. “I don’t think so,” she said.
“You can see I’m lousy at it,” Nick argued, feeling exasperated. For reasons that were both egotistical and familial, he might not want to be honest in his assessment of his abilities regarding child care—but for all concerned, he knew he had to be. He couldn’t afford to let Dexter down, especially with Lola and Chuck both overseas. Giving his nephew the best possible care was the least Nick could do under the circumstances.
“Oh, pshaw. That’s a lame excuse if ever I heard one,” Amy said as she walked Dexter back and forth.
Nick tried not to notice the intuitive way she had cuddled Dexter against the pillowy softness of her breasts, or how gently and tenderly she held him. No doubt about it, Amy would make an excellent—and very loving and caring—mother. With effort he returned his gaze to Amy’s face and struggled to keep his mind on the subject at hand. “I beg your pardon?”
Amy pursed her lips and continued to regard him contentiously. “Guys always say things like that to get out of doing things around the house or with their kids,” she told him disparagingly. “I see it all the time with my married friends, and I have to tell you—” Amy paused and looked him straight in the eye “—it infuriates me.”
Nick braced a shoulder against the wall and returned her steady gaze. “Dexter’s been crying for an hour. I’ve done everything possible to quiet him, with no result. You waltz in—a good forty-five minutes later than you said you would be, by the way—you glare at me, take him from me, and bingo, the kid is happy as can be.” What did she call that if not proof that Nick was not exactly material for Stand in Father of the Year? Never mind husband or father material—for anyone. Pain twisting his gut at the loss he had suffered in the past and the emptiness and loneliness that would no doubt be part of his future, Nick swallowed hard and forced himself to stand up to the quiet accusation in Amy Deveraux’s turquoise eyes. “My nephew knows what he wants and what he wants is you,” Nick said gruffly, irritated at finding himself failing so completely and unexpectedly again. He looked at Dexter’s tearstained face. “Believe me, he couldn’t have been clearer about that.” And that hurt, too. Because even though the two of them hadn’t yet spent much time together, Nick loved his nephew, Dexter, as much as he loved his sister, Lola. He hadn’t expected to be so summarily rejected the first chance the two of them had been alone together. But he had been, Nick thought, discouraged and exhausted. There was no denying that.
“Nonsense. He’s simply confused and missing his mommy.” Amy cuddled Dexter close and smoothed Dexter’s down hair with gentle, maternal strokes. “All he wanted was to be comforted.”
“I did comfort him!”
Amy merely lifted a brow. Nick could see she didn’t believe him.
“Honestly—” Nick lowered his voice with effort and put the overwhelming emotion he felt aside “—I did my best. And it wasn’t good enough.”
Nick looked at Amy sternly, knowing she was probably going to fight him on this, but knowing also there was no other choice, he laid down the law. “No more going our separate ways. You’re going to have to stay with me and Dexter from now on. At least until Dexter adjusts to his mother’s absence.”
Chapter Four
Amy would have thought Nick was just trying to wriggle out of the promise he had made to his sister to look after her son had she not seen the anguish on Nick’s face. He truly was out of his league here—or so he thought. And a man like Nick did not want to be in a situation where he could possibly fail.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she said in no uncertain terms.
“Look, Amy, I wish it were otherwise, but the bottom line is I don’t have the instinct for something like this. Never have had and never will.”
He wasn’t as bad at it as he thought. After all, she had seen Nick change Dexter’s diaper and hold him earlier without any problem. Initially Dexter had snuggled against Nick’s broad, sinewy chest every bit as readily as he had cuddled against the softness of her breasts. But apparently Nick had gained no confidence from that.
“So what are you saying?” Amy asked, doing her best not to let how handsome Nick looked in the fading afternoon light distract her. While she had been gone, he had changed into faded jeans and a dark-gray polo shirt that made the most of his tall, muscular frame. His hair was mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it, and the hint of evening beard gave him a mesmerizingly sexy I’m-in-charge-here look. Swallowing hard around the sudden tightness in her throat, she stepped back. “That you’re not willing to do your part in taking care of Dexter from here on out?”
“No.” Nick’s glance drifted over her in a decidedly sensual appraisal, lingering on the close fit of the sleeveless rose-colored blouse and matching tea-length skirt she had changed into before going over to her aunt’s, then returning to her face. His voice lowered to a hushed, seductive murmur that did nothing to disturb the drowsy baby in her arms. “I’m telling you that until Dexter adjusts to the two of us taking care of him, you should be close enough to comfort him if he needs it—just like you’re doing now.”
His plan sounded practical. Romantic even, if Amy contemplated the notion of being tucked away in decidedly intimate and cozy surroundings with a baby she was fast coming to adore and a handsome man. There was only one problem, she thought, aside from her very physical attraction to Nick and the fact that she wasn’t the type of woman who would ever have a fling.
“What about my work?” Amy said seriously. And although she didn’t want to let Dexter, Nick or Lola down, she had professional commitments. Her word was her bond. She couldn’t just walk away from that.
He regarded her seriously, suddenly