Lonely Bunny was a star. She was simply the writer who told his stories and drew his pictures. But, oh, how she loved going to children’s bookstores to do signings. To read her books to kids clustered around her with wide eyes and innocent smiles.
Anna was right. Tula had escaped her father’s narrow world and his plans for her life. She’d made her own way. She had a home she loved and a career she adored. Glancing at the baby boy happily gabbling to himself in his stroller, she told herself silently that she was madly in love with a drooling, nearly bald, one-foot-tall dreamboat.
What she would do when she had to say goodbye to that baby she just didn’t know. But for the moment, that time was weeks, maybe months, away.
If ever she’d seen a man who wasn’t prepared to be a father, it was Simon Bradley.
Instantly, an image of him popped into her brain and she almost sighed. He really was far too handsome for her peace of mind. But gorgeous or not, he was as stuffy and stern as her own father and she’d had enough of that kind of man. Besides, this wasn’t about sexual attraction or the buzzing awareness, this was about Nathan and what was best for him.
So Tula would put aside her own worries and whatever tingly feelings she had for the baby’s father and focus instead on taking care of the tiny boy.
She could do this. And just to make herself feel better, she mentally put her adventure into the tone of one of her books. Lonely Bunny Goes to the City. She smiled to herself at the thought and realized it wasn’t a bad idea for her next book.
“You’re absolutely right,” Tula said firmly, needing to hear the confident tone in her own voice. “My father can’t dictate to me anymore. And besides, it’s not as if he’s interested in what I’m doing or where I am.”
The truth stung a bit, as it always did. Because no matter what, she wished her father were different. But wishing would never make it so.
“I’m not going to worry about running into my father,” she said. “I mean, what are the actual odds of that happening anyway?”
“Good for you!” Anna said with an approving grin. Then she added, “Now, would you mind handing me the brush shaped like a fan? I need to get the lacy look on the waves.”
“Right.” Tula stood, looked through Anna’s supplies and found the wide, white sable fan-shaped brush. She handed it over, then watched as her best friend expertly laid down white paint atop the cerulean blue ocean, creating froth on water that looked real enough Tula half expected to hear the sound of the waves.
Anna Cameron Hale was the best faux finish artist in the business. She could lay down a mural on a wall and when she was finished, it was practically alive. Just as, when this painting on the bank wall was complete, it would look like a view of the ocean on a sunny day, as seen through a columned window.
“You’re completely amazing, you know that, right?” Tu la sa id.
“Thanks.” Anna didn’t look back, just continued her painting. “You know, once you’re settled into Simon’s place, I could come up and do a mural in the baby’s room.”
“Oooh, great idea.”
“And,” Anna said coyly, turning her head to look at Tula, “it would be good practice for the nursery Sam and I are setting up.”
A second ticked past. Then two. “You’re—”
“I am.”
“How long?”
“About three months.”
“Oh my God, that’s huge!” Tula dropped to her knees and swept Anna into a tight hug, then released her. “You’re gonna have a baby! How’d Sam take it?”
“Like he’s the first man to introduce sperm to egg!” Anna laughed again and the shine in her eyes defined just how happy she really was. “He’s really excited. He called Garret in Switzerland to tell him he’s going to be an uncle.”
“Weird, considering you actually dated Garret for like five minutes.”
“Ew.” Anna grimaced and shook her head. “I don’t like to think about that part,” she said, laughing again. “Besides, three dates with Garret or a lifetime with his brother … no contest.”
Tula had never seen her friend so happy. So content. As if everything in her world were exactly the way it was supposed to be. For one really awful moment, Tula actually felt envious of that happiness. Of the certainty in Anna’s life. Of the love Sam surrounded her with. Then she deliberately put aside her own niggling twist of jealousy and focused on the important thing here. Supporting Anna as she’d always been there for Tula.
“I’m really happy for you, Anna.”
“Thanks, sweetie. I know you are.” She glanced at the baby boy who was watching them both through interested eyes. “And believe me, I’m glad you’re getting so much hands-on experience, Aunt Tula. I don’t have a clue how to take care of a baby.”
“It’s really simple,” Tula said, following her friend’s gaze to smile at the baby that had so quickly become the center of her world. “All you have to do is love them.”
Her heart simply turned over in her chest. Two weeks she’d been a surrogate mom and she could hardly remember a time without Nathan. What on earth had she done with herself before having that little boy to snuggle and care for? How had she gotten through her day without the scent of baby shampoo and the soft warmth of a tiny body to hold?
And how would she ever live without it?
* * *
Simon knew how to get things done.
With Mick’s assistant taking care of most of the details, within a week, Simon’s house had been readied for Tula and Nathan’s arrival.
He had rooms prepared, food delivered and had already lined up several interviews with a popular nanny employment agency. Tula and the baby had been in town only three days and already he had arranged for a paternity test and had pulled a few important strings so that he’d have the results a lot sooner than he normally would have.
Not that he needed legal confirmation. He had known from his first glance at the child that Nathan was his. Had felt it the moment he’d held him. Now he had to deal with the very real fact of parenthood. Though he was definitely going to go slowly in that regard until he had proof.
He’d never planned on being a father. Hell, he didn’t know the first thing about parenting. And his own parent had hardly been a sterling role model.
Simon knew he could do it, though. He always found a way.
He opened his front door and accidentally kicked a toy truck. The bright yellow Dumpster was sent zooming across the parquet floor to crash into the opposite wall. He shook his head, walked to the truck and, after picking it up, headed into the living room.
Normally, he got home at five-thirty, had a quiet drink while reading the paper. The silence of the big house was a blessing after a long day filled with clients, board meetings and ringing telephones. His house had been a sanctuary, he thought wryly. But not anymore. He glanced around the once orderly living room and blew out an exasperated breath. How could one baby have so much … stuff?
“They’ve only been here three days,” he muttered, amazed at what the two of them had done to the dignified old Victorian.
There were diapers, bottles, toys, fresh laundry that had been folded and stacked on the coffee table. There was a walker of some sort in one corner and a discarded bunny with one droopy ear sitting in Simon’s favorite chair. He stepped over a baby blanket spread across a hand-stitched throw rug and set his briefcase down beside the chair.
Picking up the bunny, he ran his fingers over the soft, slightly soggy fur. Nathan was teething, Tula had informed him only that morning. Apparently, the bunny was taking the brunt of the punishment. Shaking his head, he laughed a little, amazed