Kate Hardy

Special Deliveries: Wanted: A Mother For His Baby


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me you’ve never imagined me kissing you,” Blake demanded, cupping the back of her head and urging her forward. He frowned as the distance between them narrowed.

      This could not be happening. If he came any closer, she was going to make a huge fool out of herself.

      “I’ve never.”

      His lips stopped a mere whisper from hers. “Say it again and make me believe it.”

      “I’ve—”

      He didn’t let her finish.

      * * *

      Blake meant the kiss to put an end to his craving for her. A quick taste and she’d be out of his system.

      That’s the way it was supposed to work. He didn’t expect her soft moan to scatter all rational thought. Or the way her lips parted beneath his to rob him of control. He’d intended to keep the upper hand, but when her fingers tunneled into his hair and tightened almost painfully, he lost the willpower to set her free.

      He rubbed his mouth back and forth against hers, felt her body soften. Almost from the first, she surrendered herself completely to the moment. To him. Despite her earlier protests, she offered herself without reservation.

      Deepening the pressure on her mouth, he let his tongue slip past her even, white teeth. He thrust into the warm wetness of her mouth, licking at all the sweetness awaiting him. Her ardent reception evoked another moan. This one his.

      In a flash he knew this was no experiment. It wasn’t going to end easily with him lifting his lips from hers. Stopping the kiss was going to take effort. Way more than it should.

      Heat poured through him. He was consumed by desire. Intense. Inappropriate toward the woman who was his son’s nanny.

      Right and wrong. Simple and complicated.

      This had been a mistake. But one he wasn’t going to quit making until it was certain to haunt him for the rest of the summer. Maybe beyond.

      Drew’s sharp cry sliced through the air, severing their kiss. Bella jerked away and scrambled to her feet faster than Drew could draw breath for a second shriek. Cursing the way his heart was pounding, Blake followed her across the lawn to where his son sat on the grass, his features crumpled in torment.

      Recognizing that it wasn’t a regular old temper tantrum, Bella had fallen to her knees beside Drew. Her hands skimmed over his face and arms, searching for the damage. Blake joined them just as she found the red spot on the back of his hand.

      “I think he was stung by something.” She scooped the child into her arms and held him close. “You poor baby.”

      “Are you sure he was stung?”

      Bella shot him a stern look. “I grew up on a farm. I know what a sting looks like.” She cupped Drew’s cheek and surveyed him. “Is there any history of allergic reactions to bees or wasps in your family?”

      “No.” He helped her stand, hating the feeling of helplessness that always came over him when Drew cried. “Do you know what to look for if he has a reaction?”

      “Difficulty breathing. Severe swelling.”

      “Someone in your family is allergic?” he quizzed, concern growing as he imagined Drew being afflicted by those symptoms.

      She shook her head. “No, but I had a student who carried an EpiPen in case she got stung, which of course she did. About a week into my first year as a teacher. Luckily our classroom was close to the playground so we could get the epinephrine into her before her throat swelled shut.”

      As they reached the house, they met up with Mrs. Farnes at the front door. She looked from Drew to Bella.

      “What’s happened?”

      “He’s been stung,” Bella answered, her pace slowing as she entered the house.

      “Wasp or bee?” Mrs. Farnes quizzed, catching Drew’s flailing hand so she could peer at the red spot. “Looks like it’s swelling some.”

      “I didn’t see a stinger, so I’m assuming it was a wasp.” Bella shifted Drew higher on her hip. “Do you think you could pour some vinegar in a bowl?”

      “Of course.” Mrs. Farnes raced back to the kitchen.

      Bella followed, wiping tears from Drew’s cheeks as she went.

      “Vinegar?” Blake demanded, suspicious.

      “It’s what we always used on the farm. The acid neutralizes the venom.”

      “What about a doctor?”

      She kissed Drew on the temple and snuggled him close. “He’s not showing any signs of a reaction. I think he’ll be just fine once his hand stops hurting.”

      As difficult as it was to entrust his son’s welfare to another person, Blake knew that if he interfered, he would disrupt the attachment sparking between Bella and Drew. And this was exactly the sort of situation where Bella shone. Taking care of someone who needed her was as natural as breathing for her. She just needed to stop denying who she was.

      Drew’s sobs had devolved into ragged inhalations that shook his whole body, followed by a keening cry that had Bella blinking back tears of her own. Blake watched them. Was this the moment Bella transformed into a concerned parent, or was she merely distraught because Drew was so upset?

      “All set,” Mrs. Farnes said, gesturing to the kitchen table where she’d set a bowl and some dishcloths. “I gave you some ice as well to numb the area. Is that all you need? I could make a baking soda paste.”

      “My mother never had much luck with baking soda.” Bella sat down with Drew in her lap. She dipped a towel in the water and applied it to the back of his hand.

      While Drew screamed with renewed enthusiasm, Blake marveled at the range of home remedies these two women knew. He hunkered down beside his son and touched Drew’s cheek.

      “He seems hot,” Blake said.

      “I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Farnes murmured, handing Drew a cookie. “He’s worked himself into quite a lather. This should help.”

      Hiccupping, Drew stuffed the cookie into his mouth. He smacked noisily, distracted from the pain in his hand. Bella and Mrs. Farnes exchanged a knowing glance. As the level of estrogen in the room peaked, Blake was assailed by a renewed sense of urgency. Drew needed a mother who would tear up when he was hurt and fiercely protect him from the world’s dangers. She would teach him respect for women and how to be both strong and gentle at the same time.

      He would not grow up with a hole in his heart and a head full of questions about why his mother had abandoned him.

      “I think it’s working,” Bella said, her gaze shifting to Blake. “Will you hold him for me while I fix a bottle?” She dipped the cloth in the vinegar once more and handed it to Blake before she shifted Drew to him. Her fingers slipped over Blake’s hand as he sat down, the tender contact a warm reminder of their earlier kiss. “He’s going to be all right,” she told him softly, her voice encouraging.

      Blake tracked her progress across the kitchen, his skin tingling in the aftermath of her light touch. She’d managed his worries over Drew’s wasp sting with the same calm reassurance she’d used with his son. As much as she denied that she was cut out for motherhood, she was a natural. More than a natural. She was innately driven to make those around her happy.

      The large kitchen became more homey as the smell of cooking onions filled the air, the sound of them sizzling in the pan blending harmoniously with the hum of female voices as Mrs. Farnes began dinner preparations.

      Lifting the damp cloth off Drew’s wasp sting, Blake noticed the red mark on his son’s hand had been reduced to a dot the diameter of a pencil. The progress pleased him.

      “It looks a lot better,” Bella commented, peering over Blake’s shoulder.

      Her