Just Beginning (27 page)

“Adam, Suzy’s baby. Alex stopped by for a visit, and somehow I got stuck babysitting.”

“The yard looks great.”

“Had to get something out of the deal.” She reached into the diaper bag, pulled out a fresh diaper, and handed both it and the baby to Gabe. “Here, change him while I warm his bottle, please.”

Gabe backed away and shook his head. “No thanks, I’ve changed more than my share of diapers, but I’ll warm the bottle for you.”

Jenny stuck her tongue out. She followed Gabe to the kitchen and spread the baby’s blanket on the kitchen table and changed his dirty diaper. Gabe took the bottle out of the fridge and put it in the microwave for ten seconds. When the timer chimed, he took the bottle out, shook it before dribbling some milk on his wrist to check the temperature. He popped it back in the microwave for a few seconds.

Taking advantage of Gabe’s empty hands, Jenny thrust the clean baby at him. If she needed practice for the children they weren’t going to have, so did he. “Hang on to him while I take this to the garbage. I don’t want it smelling up the house.”

Or maybe he didn’t. Jenny came back inside to find Gabe handling Adam like a pro. He bounced the little guy on his lap while telling Jenny about his day, all the while smiling and looking at the baby, letting him think Gabe was talking to him.
That must be how he was with Ted as a baby.

And the baby responded to Gabe, too, as if they’d always been great buddies instead of strangers. Were all babies that amiable? Jenny scrubbed her hands, dried them, then retrieved his bottle from the microwave. She tested on her wrist like Gabe had. Lukewarm. Good enough.

Bottle in hand, Jenny watched Gabe entertain the infant until Adam noticed his food and nearly lunged out of Gabe’s arms in an attempt to get his meal. Intrigued by Gabe and the baby, she handed him the bottle. He settled Adam in his lap and tucked the soft cloth diaper she gave him under the baby’s full chin like an expert.

Arms folded across her chest, she leaned against the doorjamb. “You really changed Alex and Ted’s diapers?”

“Sure. Judith and I both worked. We had a nanny during the day, but at night I gave the kids baths while Judith did the dishes.”

Of course
. Gabe would have been an involved father—even before it was commonplace. Jenny sat at the table and watched. Gabe took the bottle from the baby, sat him up and patted his back. After a loud belch that had to have felt good, he settled him on her lap for the rest of his feeding. “Your turn.”

Jenny tucked the baby in the crook of her arm as Gabe had done, slipped the napkin under his chin, and held on as dimpled miniature hands grabbed the bottle and crammed it in his mouth.

There was a perfunctory knock at the back door, and Steve let himself in. “Hey, Gabe. You came back to rescue her?”

“Did she need rescuing?”

Steve watched her feed the baby with an intense look on his face. Jenny checked the bottle to make sure the baby wasn’t sucking air. Nope, she was doing it right. So why was Steve staring at her as if she was performing the most fascinating feat? She returned his look with raised eyebrows.

He smiled. “See, nothing to it.” Then turned to Gabe. “She was nervous about babysitting, so I took a break to check on her.”

“Nervous?” Gabe looked at Jenny.

“I don’t do this all the time like he does,” she grumbled.

“It’s like riding a bike. Babies don’t change.”

Steve stretched his rigid neck muscles. He obviously wasn’t needed here. “Everything looks under control.” Gabe was home and Jenny was preoccupied with the baby. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Got something interesting?” Gabe asked.

“Not really, but it’s my own case. See ya.” Steve waved over his shoulder as he left.

Once in his house, Steve let out a deep breath and fell into the leather recliner. He stared out the window into the darkening evening. A light snapped on in the Harrison kitchen. Jenny entered the room, and Gabe followed with the baby.

Gabe took a stool and sat the baby on the counter, while she took a brown glass bottle, probably a beer, out of the refrigerator. Jenny looked at man and child with an indulgent, tender look, even he could identify from this distance. She kissed Gabe, and then handed him the drink.

Stomach churning, Steve swiveled away from the touching domestic scene to frown at his cold empty room. He should’ve stayed away. She’d been fine without him. Gabe helped her. But he’d been drawn across the driveway by a strange undeniable force he’d been afraid to even suspect was Jenny.

No, it couldn’t be her. Jenny was, Jenny. One of his best friend’s wives. His bud; Jenny. Who he’d always thought of as a little sister. This sudden nervousness and compulsion, to be with her was stupid—and annoying.

He’d tried to work but ended up watching the clock for fifty-six endless minutes. His instinct was to stay the hell away from her until these weird feelings passed, but that was stupid. It was
Jenny
, for God’s sake.

Angry at his preoccupation, he’d decided to test himself by going back over there. He had to be imagining things. He didn’t have feelings for Jenny—not intimate feelings. That was ridiculous. But he did.

Standing there, staring at her cuddling the baby on her lap, he must have looked like an idiot. Corny as could be, the image of her and the baby reminded him of pictures he’d seen of Madonna and child.

When Annie held her kids, he never got these melting feelings, making him want to hold both woman and child close to protect them. Why
Jenny
? Damn it. She was no Virgin Mary, yet she possessed a goodness and innocence that entranced him. Damn. There was nothing innocent about these new feelings for Jenny.

Are you fucking kidding me? Why her? Not her.
He bolted out of the chair. With clenched fists, he paced from the kitchen, back to the fireplace in the family room.

Earlier when she fell into him, she’d felt so soft and good in his hands the few seconds before he’d pushed her away.

She tripped on the dog, you fool. You shouldn’t have even had her in your arms, and you certainly shouldn’t have liked it.

But he did. Damn him to hell, he
had
liked it.

He sat and leaned forward to brace his head between stiff arms. His fingers curled into his hair, pulling hard.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

It had to be a mistake. He couldn’t love Jenny—not like that. He was
not
in love with Jennifer Harrison. But the more he repeated the mantra, the more his stomach churned and his heart burned in denial.

Damn. How’d this happen? When’d it happen? He couldn’t pinpoint a single event, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t erase the memory of her body pressed against his and his ready response to her. He wanted her.

You jerk. Douchebag. She’s your fucking friend’s wife. What’s wrong with you?

Luckily, Jenny hadn’t seemed to notice anything had changed. That would’ve been the ultimate humiliation, for her to realize his infatuation. Worse yet, if Gabe noticed; what a mess that would be.

He looked back out the window into the Harrison kitchen, searching for Gabe, as if Gabe could have suddenly sensed Steve’s lust for his wife and was crossing the drive to pummel the hell out of him. He almost wished for it. He deserved a good beating.

Alex and her friend walked toward the side door, with Jenny and Gabe trailing behind. Gabe stood on the landing with his arms wrapped around Jenny, warming her, while seeing his daughter and her friend off.

Wife, daughter, son. Gabe had it all. Ritz chased the car, barking. Gabe even had a dog.

Steve could get a dog. But he could
not
get Jenny.

He’d just have to get over her. Jenny was married to his friend, and there was no way he’d ever betray a friend. He wasn’t that guy, and there was no way he’d ever put a woman in that position.

Okay. Okay. Not a big deal. Don’t panic. She’s off limits, and that’s the end of it. Whatever you thought you felt, you didn’t. You don’t love Jenny; she’s your friend. It’s that simple.

Annie’s single. She’s available. She’s sexy and sweet, and you love her kids. Work a little harder there, dude. She might be a good match for you. Introduce her to Mom and see what she thinks. Dinner. Great idea. Yeah
. He sat back and wiped sweaty palms on his jean-clad thighs.
I got this
.

He’d been a professional athlete. He had willpower. He could do this.

He
would
do it. He was
not
that guy.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Jen.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed on her face, thoughtful. “I like what you did with your hair.”

Jenny hooked her high heels on her bar stool as the waitress slid napkins across the glossy table for Gabe’s beer and her wine and glass of water.

“Thanks.” Jenny was discovering a few remnant benefits of her earlier I-gotta-look-older craziness. Learning how to properly apply makeup came in handy when she felt like dressing up and wowing her hubby.

Tonight Jenny switched from her subtle brown eye shadow to a more obvious purple that brought out the blue in her eyes. She’d been back to the hairdresser to trim her bangs but decided to let her hair grow out for the winter. The layers had grown long enough for her to be able to braid the sides and pull the rest up in a loose top knot, allowing a few wisps to trail down.

She wore a dark sweater dress that comfortably hugged her curves and hit mid-thigh, showing off a good portion of leg. Though Jenny wasn’t as pleased with her choice in footwear as she was her dress, makeup, and hair. No doubt these pretty red pumps made her legs look good, but dang, wearing them was like walking around on tiptoes.

“So what are we celebrating?”

Jenny took a sip of her cabernet. “Steve won his wrongful death suit case. And I’m celebrating turning in the last foster care article.” She sighed and put the wine glass down. “I’m so glad it’s done.”

“I bet. You put a lot into that series.”

Jenny nodded, then sighed. She was pleased with her final efforts, but the experience still left her feeling raw. She wanted to help, but Gabe was right. First it’d be Tommy, and then another, and another. There’d be no end ’cause Jenny wouldn’t be able to turn away a single child in need. Where would she draw the line? How?

Three giggling girls huddle talking as they passed, bumped Jenny’s back. “Oh, sorry,” the redhead threw over her shoulder as they headed for the bar.

“No worries,” Jenny said to her retreating back.

Gabe put a hand around her shoulders and leaned close. “Jen, I’m sorry we couldn’t help.”

“I know.” She fiddled with the paper napkin under her wine glass. “I tried to come up with a way to make it work, but we can’t. To do it right, we’d have to give up my job or yours at the clinic, or our time together. Helping these kids would be a full-time job.”

And I’m too selfish to give up my career and stress our marriage
.

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “But we would’ve been good at it.”

“We would’ve been
great
.” He pulled her close, hugging her.

Jenny sighed, wishing she could erase her memories of Tommy sitting alone on his bed in the small room he shared with another foster child, a two-year-old baby boy. No computer, models, books, baseball mitts, or stuffed animals cluttered his space. He didn’t have any—space or possessions. Even the clothes he wore were cast-offs.

“They’re so damn needy and lovable.”

“Your articles will help. You’re such a passionate writer, readers won’t be able to help feeling your frustration, concern, and affection for these kids. You’ll reach a lot of potential foster parents who will have the time and patience to help them.” His face brightened. “Instead of helping one boy, you’ll be saving, maybe dozens. That’s quite an accomplishment, lady.” He brushed his warm hand over her back.

“I suppose.” She looked at her watch. “Do you see Steve? It’s not like him to be late.”

Jenny wiggled her feet in the restricting shoes and considered kicking them off, but perched barefooted on this high stool, with her red pumps lying on the ground beneath her would be gauche.

Gabe put down his beer, leaned forward, then sat up straight to peer around the packed bar. “He just walked in.”

She looked at the door to where Steve scanned the crowd. “I’ll get him.” Jenny eased off the stool, turned, and collided with a solid body. Something bounced off her chest and fell onto the floor.

“Oh, Lord. I’m sorry.” A lady pressed an infant that looked to be a little younger than Adam to her chest as she tried to catch the diaper bag sliding down her arm.

“My fault. Are you okay?” Jenny caught the handle and resettled it on the mom’s shoulder. The little girl, dressed in the cutest little white romper with tiny rosebuds all over it, stared at her through huge violet eyes. A matching rosebud headband encircled her tiny head.

Jenny reached down and picked up the pacifier. She dipped it in her unused water glass. The baby’s face split into a heart-melting smile Jenny couldn't possibly ignore.

She smiled, cooing, “Hi sweetie.”

The baby’s grin widened, then she noticed her pacifier and she started kicking and reached for Jenny’s hand. Jenny handed it to her, expecting to have to pick it up off the floor again, but the little mite popped it into her mouth, tucked her head beneath her mom’s chin, and studied Jenny as the pacifier wiggled up and down.

“Thank you so much,” the mom said. “Guess this wasn’t the smartest place to meet my husband.”

“Probably not,” Jenny grinned. “She’s a cutie. How old?”

“Ten months–I know she looks younger; she’s small for her age.”

“Well she’s adorable.” Turning, Jenny saw Steve walking toward them, so she slipped back onto her stool.

* * *

Steve wove his way through the crowd to the table where Gabe and Jenny sat huddled together. Their heads nearly touched in an effort to hear each other in the noisy bar. Gabe had one arm casually draped across Jenny’s back in a light embrace. Steve suppressed twinges of resentment. The man had a right to put his arm around his wife.
And you had no business even noticing, let alone feeling irritated.