The Detective's 8 lb, 10 oz Surprise (13 page)

“I can't wait to hold my son,” Dylan said as he locked the front door and followed Nick to his SUV. “What's that thing people say about your heart walking around outside your body when you're separated from your child—that's true. That's how it feels.”

Maybe Nick would find that to be true. For his son's sake, he sure as hell hoped so.

* * *

There was a knock on the hotel room door and Georgia ran to open it. Nick had texted her about ten minutes ago to explain about Dylan, the plan to move to Blue Gulch and that he was desperate to see his baby.

The handsome young man in the doorway looked over Georgia's shoulder to see Timmy in his carrier on the desk. He rushed over and unlatched the baby, carefully cradling him against his chest, gently kissing the top of his head. Tears streamed down Dylan's cheeks, and his knees seemed to buckle, so he moved to the bed and sat down, rocking Timmy gently in his arms.

“I missed you so much, little guy,” Dylan said, his cheek against Timmy's head. “I'll never leave you again. Never. Starting tomorrow I'm eighteen and no one can ever take you away from me.”

Tears pooled in Georgia's eyes. She glanced at Nick and if she wasn't mistaken, his eyes were glistening.

“Dylan, I'm Georgia Hurley,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I've been helping watch Timmy for the past several days. I adore this boy.”

Dylan ran a finger down Timmy's cheek. “Thank you. Thank you, both of you, for taking such good care of him.” He looked at Nick. “I knew I could count on you.”

Nick lifted his chin, then nodded, clearly moved by what Dylan had said.

“Dylan, my family owns a restaurant in Blue Gulch,” Georgia said. “It's called Hurley's Homestyle Kitchen. Ribs, burgers, chicken-fried steak, po'boys—”

“And the best garlic mashed potatoes in the state,” Nick added.

Georgia smiled. “I have no doubt my grandmother Essie will hire you as a cook if you're interested.”

“Really?” Dylan asked. “I have two years' experience as a diner cook. I can make anything, from pancakes to steak to special orders too. Gluten-free, egg-free, dairy-free—I'm on it.”

She smiled. “I think my grandmother would love to have you as part of the kitchen team. And I think you'll love Blue Gulch. It's a great place to raise a child.” She was aware of Nick's eyes on her. She hadn't said that for Nick's benefit and hoped he didn't think she had. Blue Gulch
was
a great place to raise children. She and her sisters had grown up there, running through the woods, spending weekends on Blue Gulch Street, where kids were always welcome in the shops and restaurants, and of course, learning the restaurant business at her grandmother's hip. Her child would. Maybe Dylan's too.

“I could tell,” Dylan said, gently rocking Timmy. “The minute I pulled into town last week, I could tell it was a nice place. And since my great-aunt is happy to move to Blue Gulch too, I'll see about selling our house, which my mother left to me.” He frowned. “I can't wait to sell that place. I wish I could tear it down myself.”

Georgia glanced at Nick. His gaze was soft on the teenager, and Georgia's heart lifted at just knowing that Dylan had a friend and protector and father figure in Nick—yes, father figure, whether he'd like that “title” or not.

Nick walked over and sat down on the other side of Dylan and slung an arm over his shoulder. “I know what you mean. I felt that way about my childhood home with its share of bad memories. I'm not sure if you remember from our talks two years ago, but our childhoods have some unfortunate things in common.”

Dylan glanced at Nick, cradling Timmy against his chest. “Are you kidding? I remember every word you ever said to me. If it hadn't been for you, I don't know what would have become of me.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked. “Your mother took good care of you.”

“Well, yeah, she did. But you'd been there, you know? You went through what I went through. And you became a police detective on the Houston force. I...wanted to be like you,” he added, glancing down.

Nick's his hero
, Georgia realized, her heart squeezing in her chest.

Nick tightened his arm around Dylan's shoulder. “I'm proud to know that, Dylan. I'm glad I was there for you. And I'm here for you and Timmy now.”

Dylan nodded, then nodded again, and Georgia could tell he was holding back a floodgate of relieved tears.

“I'll help you house-hunt,” Nick said. “There are lots of different homes available in Blue Gulch, from apartments in town to houses to condo developments to ranches. In the meantime, you'll all stay in my house.”

“I'll help too,” Georgia said. “If I could be selfish, I'd love to have you near the restaurant so I could see Timmy often. Hurley's is in the center of town, on Blue Gulch Street, not too far from the police station.”

“That sounds good to me,” Dylan said. “My great-aunt would like to be able to walk to shops.” He shifted Timmy in his arms. “So, um, I'd like to ask one more thing of both of you. If it's too much, I'll totally understand.”

“Shoot,” Nick said.

Dylan looked at Nick, then at Georgia, then down at Timmy's little blue-capped head. “I, um, was kind of hoping you'd both agree to be Timmy's godparents. I need all the help I can get.”

Georgia smiled and touched Dylan's arm. “I'd be honored.”

Nick ran a finger down Timmy's little face. “That goes double for me.”

Georgia bit her lip, her heart bursting.

As Timmy began fussing, Dylan stood and rocked the baby. Timmy settled down, his eyes closing. “I'd better get Timmy back in his carrier for his nap.” With Timmy fast asleep, Dylan gently kissed his forehead, then headed toward the door. “Can we meet in the lobby at six tomorrow morning so I can officially take over as Timmy's dad? I've waited a week—I can wait one more night until I'm eighteen.” He glanced at Nick and Georgia. “Six too early? We can make it seven.”

Nick laughed. “Timmy's up at five, so six is no problem. We'll be awake.”

At the “we,” Dylan glanced at Georgia and she could tell he wondered what her and Nick's relationship was all about.
Wish I knew
, she thought.

Dylan smiled. “Aunt Helen and I will pack some clothes and stuff. Once we find a new home in Blue Gulch, I can come back to Houston with a van to move what I want. See you in the morning,” he added, then rushed away.

“Wow,” Nick said as the door closed behind Dylan.

“Wow,” Georgia agreed, tears still stinging her eyes.

Nick moved to the big wall of windows, looking out at the city. “I can't even imagine how alone he must have felt these past five weeks since Timmy was born, scared to death any minute that someone would come take his child away from him.” He shook his head. “I wish he'd called me.”

“He was scared,” Georgia said. “You're the law. A good guy who was there for him and his mother before, but the law.”

Nick nodded. “He said he was worried my hands would be tied.” He leaned his head back, then turned around and dropped down in the club chair. “Did you see his eyes light up at the idea of working in the kitchen at Hurley's?”

Georgia smiled. “We already have something of a recommendation from his manager at the diner, so we know he's a hard worker and trustworthy. I'm sure Essie will hire him once she hears his story.”

Nick looked relieved. “I have a good feeling about how all this will work out.”

“Me too,” Georgia said. For the Patterson crew, anyway.

“So, about this godfather thing,” Nick said. “I've never been one before. What do I do?”

Georgia smiled. “You do what you've been doing all week. Care.”

“I couldn't have done it without you.”

Georgia froze, suddenly realizing it was over. Tomorrow Dylan and his great-aunt and Timmy would return with them to Blue Gulch. They'd stay with Nick until Dylan found a new home, Dylan taking Avery's old room and Aunt Helen in the guest room. Georgia's old room.

Nick didn't need her anymore. And Operation Dad hadn't cracked him.
She
hadn't cracked him.

Her heart heavy, she turned away, staring out at the tall buildings of Houston.

She could feel Nick watching her. She wanted to get up and run into the bathroom and shut the door for some privacy, but a gray cloud parked itself over her head and she could barely muster the enthusiasm to move.

“You okay?” he asked.

No
, she wanted to scream.
No, I'm not. Because I love you and you're...impenetrable.

But that wasn't really true. He wasn't impenetrable. Bits and pieces had gotten through chinks in the armor around him, but just bits, nothing able to blast through.

“I'm okay,” she managed. “Just tired.”

“Why don't you lie down?” he suggested. He got up and pulled back the quilt, patting the bed.

Her heart crumpling, she lay down, facing away from him so he couldn't see her cry. But instead of him walking over to the club chair, she felt him stretch his long form beside her.

That was unexpected.

“If it's all right,” he said.

She turned to face him. He lay staring up the ceiling. She studied the planes of his face, his strong nose, the jaw with its sexy five-o'clock shadow, the long dark lashes. “It's all right,” she said, turning away from him again. “Stay here with me.”
It's our last night together
, she wanted to add, but held her tongue.

He turned and curved against her, his chin resting on top of her head. She felt his hands move onto her shoulders, then up her neck and fist her hair. Then one hand moved lower, slipping around her protectively, possessively. He buried his face in her neck.

She desperately wanted to turn around and rip his clothes off, fuse her mouth to his, feel his hands and mouth everywhere on her body. But in the morning, she'd only be more brokenhearted. It was over. She'd tried, but she'd failed.

At least she'd tried.

“Maybe you should take the chair, after all,” she whispered, her voice catching.

He stiffened. “Okay,” he said, quickly getting up. “I didn't mean to—” He didn't finish his sentence.

I didn't mean to break your heart. I didn't mean for you to love me.

He'd told her he was going to hurt her. And she'd believed him and jumped in with her whole heart anyway.

Dummy
, she told herself.

“I think I'll take a walk,” Nick said. “You'll be all right by yourself? I won't be long.”

“I'll be fine.”

And she would be, she reminded herself. She would be fine. That had become her new motto.

But as she heard him leave, the door whooshing shut behind him, the lock clicking into place, the tears stung her eyes all over again.

“It's just you and me, Timmy,” she whispered to the baby, who was fast asleep. “And it's our last night together. Thank you for everything. Thank you for letting me learn on the go. It was an honor.”

Timmy's little bow-shaped mouth quirked and Georgia smiled at him, her hands on her belly. She thought about what Dylan Patterson had done, had risked for his baby son. He hadn't been willing to give up.

“Neither will I,” she said to Timmy. “Until Nick picks up and moves to Houston, my work here is not done.”

With that she felt much better, changed into her pajamas, got back into bed and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Nick sat on a stool at the hotel bar, taking his time with his scotch and helping himself to a handful of almonds in a glass bowl. It was just past nine o'clock, but the bar wasn't very crowded. Nick sat at the far end and there were two empty seats next to him, then a youngish couple making out in between tequila shots and licking salt off the sides of their thumbs. Two very attractive single women, dolled up to the nines with cleavage and lots of leg, were along the perpendicular side of the bar, and the redhead was eyeing him. Every time he glanced in that direction, he'd catch her looking at him, her expression a combination of interest and challenge.
Try to seduce me out of this bar and into my room
, she seemed to be saying to him as she licked her lips, her gaze on him.

He tried to adopt a
no, thanks
expression, shifting in his chair so that he was looking straight ahead at the rows of top-shelf liquor, a mirrored backdrop behind the bottles. He stared at himself, thinking he didn't look particularly happy. Or interested in anyone.

Ah,
he
was the challenge, he realized as the redhead got up and walked toward him, then past him into the ladies' room, her perfume lingering.

He preferred Georgia's soapy scent, which was actually a combination of soap, baby wash and hand sanitizer. He smiled, picturing her up in their room right now, singing Timmy a lullaby or reading him a book about a sheep that liked to laugh. She read that one to Timmy a lot. He imagined her lying on the big bed wearing a T-shirt and those sexy yoga pants.

Georgia was Blue Gulch. This bar, the redhead—who he hoped would keep walking past him when she emerged from the restroom—was Houston. This would be his life. Alone. Nursing a scotch. No daily responsibilities to anyone but himself. Once a week he'd drive out to Blue Gulch to see his son, to make sure Georgia had everything she needed.

How could she have everything she needed if the father of her baby lived three hours away?

He hated when these questions popped into his head. The impossibility of doing the right thing by Georgia, by his son, which wouldn't allow for him to do the right thing for himself.

Which was sitting here in this bar, in this city, a lone wolf. Leaving Blue Gulch for good. Leaving his bad memories there.

Except he'd made new ones. He thought of his sister in her cap and gown, her big smile as she accepted her high school diploma. He thought of young Brian Pullman, hugging Bentley the greyhound with tears streaming down his cheeks. He thought of finding little Henry Grainger. He thought of several other cases that each had restored his faith in humanity just a little bit.