Lone Star Baby (McCabe Multiples Book 5) (4 page)

Hard to say.

But whatever was going on with Violet, she was clearly determined to make it work, at least for the next few months. “It’s a big improvement over the way it looked two days ago,” he continued, impressed.

All the moving boxes had been pushed to the rear of the former stable and were neatly lined up behind the Conestoga wagon that functioned as her bedroom.

On the right side of the large space she had rolled a rug out over the painted concrete floor and arranged a sofa, armchair and two end tables to make a nice conversation area. A big packing trunk served as a coffee table.

On the other side of the room a wooden trestle table provided additional kitchen counter space. It held a microwave, toaster oven and what looked like an electric skillet. The small refrigerator stood next to that. A white wrought-iron patio set now served as the dining room table and chairs.

There were no shades or drapes on the tall casement windows that lined either side of the room, which was where she had placed the Conestoga wagon. Its rounded, white-canvas top would come in handy, he realized, since the flaps could be tied shut on either end, allowing her complete privacy. For changing and—

He didn’t need to be thinking about that.

What she wore—or didn’t wear—to sleep in was none of his business.

Violet looked at the dusky light outside and switched on the overhead lights. Mounted close to the ceiling, they let off the kind of bright fluorescence the hospital corridors afforded. A bonus, given the fact he was a little too interested in the way her thigh-length shorts, faded college T-shirt and sneakers cloaked her spectacular body.

“Do you have the questionnaires?” she asked brusquely, bringing his attention back to where it needed to be once again.

He lifted the manila file amiably. “Right here.”

A faint blush highlighted the elegant contours of her cheeks. She looked around until she found something to write with. “A pen?”

Gavin patted his pocket. Found his cell phone but nothing else. “Ah, no.”

“No problem. I think I have some extra in my bedside drawer. I’ll be right back.” She headed up the stairs and disappeared into the covered wagon.

While Gavin waited, he checked out the ventilation in the room, which seemed comfortably cool despite the warmth of the summer day. Further investigation showed why. Long-handled cranks opened the tall, abundant windows along the very top quarter of the glass. The ceiling fan whirred overhead, cooling and dispersing the fresh air. As a result, the room smelled like the sunny autumn day it had been. Fresh and clean, like the great Texas outdoors.

He could see why she liked it out here, although it had to be lonely, too, he thought. Especially at night.

Almost too quiet.

In the wagon, however, it was anything but.

He could hear things being shifted, occasional muttering and...was that swearing? There was a small crash, a shift of bedsprings and then an even bigger crash.

Followed only by silence.

Gavin waited.

Still nothing.

He began to get a little worried. “Violet? You okay in there?”

The bedsprings creaked.

There was a muffled cry.

“Violet?” he called out again.

And then he heard what sounded like a small, furious scream.
What the...?

Gavin took the steps up to the wagon two at a time. He threw back the flap that hid the interior from view.

Violet lay facedown on the bed, her head burrowed in the pillow, one arm tucked awkwardly between the mattress and the end table next to it.

“What the heck are you doing?”

She moaned and lifted her head slightly. “I’m stuck.”

* * *

“S
TUCK
,” G
AVIN
REPEATED
STUPIDLY
.

“I had a box of pens and pencils and I knocked them behind the nightstand. I was trying to reach it without moving all my suitcases, storage boxes and garment bags.”

Of which, Gavin noted, there were many. All crammed together in the available space between the mattress and the high wooden sides of the wagon.

He tracked the silky dark mane over her face and shoulders. “You’re really stuck?”

She groaned again and pounded her forehead lightly against the mattress beneath her. “No. I’m just lying here for the fun of it.”

He grinned. A sensually indisposed Violet was a sight to behold. Her temper only added to the allure. “Hang on.” He sprang into action. “I’ll move some of these suitcases.”

A feat that was easier said than done, he quickly discovered. Some boxes were wedged in there pretty tight. Plus, the stack was two and three high on all sides. “What did you pack in these, anyway?” He succeeded in freeing a storage box from the stack, only to have the snapped lid fly off in the process and a whole array of sexy undies come spilling out. About half of which landed on her shoulders and head.

Another string of muffled, surprisingly unladylike profanities filled the silence. She turned her face to his. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Ah, no.” The last thing he needed to see was what kind of undergarments she wore. Now he’d be imagining how she looked in all that sexy satin and lace. “Sorry.” He rescued the rest of her undies and stuffed them all back in the box, snapping the lid on.

“Are these all clothes?”

“Yes. It’s everything I might need for the next three months and then some.”

“Sounds like a woman.” His sisters were notorious clothes-hounds, too.

“And spoken like a man. Are you hurrying?”

Gavin lifted another box of undies and a half-open suitcase of what appeared to be silk pajamas and nightgowns. Who knew she dressed so sexily when she wasn’t at the hospital? Except, in the past five years, she had almost always been at the hospital.

“Gavin?”

“Almost there.”

She moaned.

He shifted the suitcase wedged against the side of the queen-size mattress and the wagon.

She tried to pull free. Groaned again, in what seemed to be real pain this time. “Still stuck...”

No kidding. Her arm remained clamped tight between the nightstand and the bed.

Deftly, Gavin slid one arm between her and the mattress, simultaneously pushing down on the bed while supporting the weight of her chest. Then, still supporting her weight and keeping her trapped arm in place, he used his free hand to shove the mattress several inches away from the nightstand, toward the other side of the wagon.

That gave her just enough wiggle room.

Her breasts pearling tautly against his forearm, she pulled her trapped limb free and rolled onto her back. Rubbing from shoulder to elbow to wrist, she tested the flexibility of her fingers with a beleaguered sigh. “Wow, that hurt!”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She sat up, still rubbing the affected limb. Beneath her shirt, he couldn’t help but note her breasts were still taut.

Oblivious to his wicked thoughts, she scoffed playfully. “You mean aside from my wounded pride?”

Glad she hadn’t lost her sense of humor, he grinned and sank down on the bed. He felt the drumbeat of arousal as he faced her. “I kind of like you as a damsel in distress.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts, her delicate hands resting on opposite shoulders, at the nape of her neck. “You are so funny.”

Suddenly sensing she needed more comforting than her self-imposed hug could give, he shifted closer. “I’m serious, Violet,” he said softly.

And then he did what he’d been wanting to do since forever. He took her into his arms, tilted her face up to his and kissed her.

Chapter Four

Violet wanted to say she was surprised. That she hadn’t expected Gavin to ever kiss her. But that would not be true.

She could tell by the way he had been looking at her the past day or so that he had been considering doing just that.

What was worse, she had been feeling the exact same urge.

She didn’t know whether it was the fact they suddenly both found themselves responsible for baby Ava’s future, or the fact that Gavin was just so damn sexy. All she knew for sure was that when he’d come to her rescue and slid his brawny arm beneath her, her body had responded with a lightning bolt of desire that had started in her breasts and exploded like a thundercloud inside her. And now that he was kissing her, a second, even more powerful wave had started to surge. Driven, this time, by the hot, ardent press of his lips and the evocative sweep of his tongue.

He tasted so incredibly good, she realized as her eyes fluttered shut. Like mint and man, desire and determination. And it wasn’t just physical need he was conjuring up. There was a sudden riptide of long-suppressed feelings, too. The fact she had been alone, too long. An aching awareness of just how lost she had been and a deep, bolstering need for more...

And still Gavin kissed her, tangling her tongue with his, arousing even more passion and need. With a sound that was half whimper of protest, half sigh of submission, she allowed him to unwind her hands from her shoulders and drape them over the broad width of his. She let him fit his chest to hers and then, the next thing she knew, he altered her center of balance. She was sliding sideways on the bed. He was shifting her onto her back, moving over her, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs moving erotically across the crests. And, dear heaven, that felt so...darn...good, too.

Violet groaned again.

If they kept this up, they would make love.

And she knew—for so many reasons, baby Ava among the most important of them—she could not let that happen.

The situation was confused enough as it was.

With a soft whimper she put both hands on his shoulders, broke the kiss and pushed him away.

* * *

G
AVIN
OPENED
HIS
EYES
and shifted onto his side, unsure whether Violet looked relieved or disappointed he had stopped.

He knew he was both.

For as much as he wanted to make love to her right here and now, the more pragmatic part of him knew that doing so would have been a colossal mistake.

Violet was the most idealistic woman he had ever met.

She believed in love with all her heart and soul.

Not hookups.

Not tawdry one-night stands.

When she made love with a man again—and he was determined now, after kissing her, that it
would
be with him—she would want it to mean something.

The surprise was that he wanted their coming together to mean something, too.

She took a conciliatory breath. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Gavin grinned, aware he was enjoying spending time with her more than he had enjoyed anything in a long time. “For what? Kissing me back?”

Violet shook her head as if that would get her back on track and locked eyes with him. “No. For doing whatever it was I did to lead you on.”

Ah. So this is the way she’s going to play it.

She straightened, her face still flushed with desire, and scooted her hips to the foot of the bed.

“You didn’t lead me on,” he said, testing her, too.

She glanced back at him, her tousled hair enticingly spilling over her shoulders.

Resisting the urge to run his hands through the silky strands, he concentrated on the just-kissed softness of her lips before returning his attention to her eyes. “You’ve always made it clear you’re still in love with Sterling.”

There was a long, thoughtful pause that seemed to indicate he had guessed wrong about that.

Finally, she tilted her head. “Then you do understand.”

He had the distinct impression they were talking about two different things.

“Frankly, I’m envious.” Gavin was prodding, trying to figure out what exactly was holding her back if not her love for her late fiancé. “He was a lucky guy.”

Violet slid off the edge of the bed. “Until he died when he was twenty-five.”

Gavin swore silently. He had a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time in these kinds of situations. He stood, too. “You know what I mean.”

“I just don’t like it when people tell me how great we had it. Or how lucky we were to have found each other. Because nothing about it feels lucky, Gavin.” She paused, her lower lip quivering.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly pulling her into his arms and giving her the hug she seemed to need.

For an instant she sank into him. When she pulled back, there were tears shimmering in her eyes. “Forget all the books and movies, Gavin,” she whispered. “There’s nothing romantic about having a terminal illness. For the patient, or his or her loved ones.” She swallowed, pressing a palm to her forehead. “It just...”

“Sucks. I know. And I am sorry. For wanting to understand and not being able to because I haven’t walked a mile in your shoes.”

Again their eyes met. This time she accepted his acknowledgment of her pain.

After a moment her expression changed and she took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Moving on...” She brushed past him, to the narrow aisle he had created. “I still forgot to get pens!” This time when she reached down between the mattress and nightstand, there was just enough room. She bounded back up, plastic box filled with writing utensils clasped in hand. “Now, on to what we should be doing. Filling out those questionnaires...”

* * *

“W
HY
NOT
ADMIT
you made a mistake with this whole glamping thing and move in with me temporarily,” Violet’s oldest sister, Poppy, said the next day when she arrived to assess Violet’s storage needs. Fiercely independent, and the only single-birthed daughter of Jackson and Lacey McCabe—who also boasted a set of twins and triplet daughters—Poppy was an interior designer, known for her practicality, efficiency and style.

“I just need a neat and inexpensive way to organize my clothes so I’m not tripping over them or rooting through boxes and suitcases for the next few months.”

And, Violet thought, still getting hot and bothered whenever she thought about it, she
especially
didn’t need to be rolling around on her bed kissing Gavin Monroe! Not that she was obsessing over their hot, sexy clinch or anything.

Poppy walked around the large space, measuring, thinking, making notes. She swung back around. “I have plenty of room in my bungalow, you know.”

Violet looked at the gray clouds on the horizon. “Thanks, sis, but I’d rather be here.”

Poppy frowned. “Aren’t you lonely?”

She sure hadn’t been last night. Gavin had stayed another hour and a half, as they’d taken their time with the questionnaires, debating each fine point, wondering what would be best for their tiny charge.

But at least he hadn’t tried to kiss her again when he left—

The sound of a big tractor-trailer roaring up the lane jerked Violet from her reverie.

She and Poppy moved to the open screen door. They looked out to see the arrival of the big steel Dumpster for the construction debris, and another six pickup trucks carrying the workers.

“I mean, it’s so quiet out here in off-hours. And it looks like it’s going to be really noisy during work hours.”

“I can handle that.” Violet pointed to her headphones. “As for the rest of the time, I like my solitude.”

Her sister’s gaze narrowed. “Too much sometimes?”

Everyone had thought that, after Sterling died. What they hadn’t understood was how much the alone time had helped Violet to process her loss and work through not only her grief but the many mistakes she had made, the countless ways she had let Sterling down.

Now, finally, she was ready to move on.

She just wasn’t sure to where or to what.

All she knew for sure was that she felt stuck. And the only way to get out of her rut was to seek change. Big, life-altering change. In the meantime, though...

“I have the transformation of McCabe House to keep me occupied.” She glanced at her watch. “And I have to get to the hospital, too.”

“To check on the baby you and Gavin are temporary guardians for?”

Violet nodded, aware that with the exception of the four phone calls she’d made to the nurses’ station in the Special Care Nursery, she had sort of been delaying going back there in person. For reasons she didn’t really understand.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance the baby could go to a couple who isn’t married?”

Violet knew that Poppy and her best friend, the currently deployed Lieutenant Trace Caulder, were trying to adopt—without getting married.

“The mother’s wishes were clear. She wanted her baby to have a mother and a father who are in a committed relationship, if possible.” She continued walking around with her older sister, showing her the space. “So Gavin and I talked it over and decided it would be best if Ava went to a married couple with an established family unit.”

Poppy stopped to measure a length of windowless wall. “Which would put me and Trace out of the running, since the good lieutenant isn’t due back in the United States for a visit for another ten months or so.” She sighed wistfully.

Violet held one end of the tape measure for her. “Ava needs new parents as soon as possible. Luckily, Mitzy is expediting the process. So it all should happen fairly quickly.”

“It’s a good thing that, unlike me, you don’t fall completely in love with every infant you see.”

Violet bit her lip. Truth was, the pang of longing she’d felt deep inside when she’d gotten her first glimpse of little Ava had caught her completely off guard. And she hadn’t even held her in her arms yet!

But, for obvious reasons, she wasn’t
about
to admit that to her sister.

Poppy jotted down a final set of numbers. She looked back up, a fleeting sadness in her eyes as the two of them strolled toward the door. “Anyway, back to your current storage problem... I’ll pull a solution together for you and then let you know what we’re going to need.”

“Thanks, Poppy.” Violet gave her big sister a hug and watched as she drove off. She signed off on the delivery of the Dumpster, talked to the construction foreman, then headed into town, the completed questionnaires in tow.

Mitzy was out on a home visit, so she left the paperwork at her office, then went on to the hospital. Carlson Willoughby was undergoing the first of several days of testing. Since the results weren’t yet in, she went up to the nursery to check on their charge and caught her breath at what she saw.

Gavin, sitting beside the incubator, a blanket-wrapped baby Ava cuddled gently in his arms. The tiny infant had a pink cap on her head, a nasal cannula still assisting her breathing, monitors that measured her heartbeat and breathing visible beneath the soft white blanket that surrounded her.

Her eyes were shut and she appeared to be sleeping.

Violet could hardly blame her.

To be held against that strong, warm chest, cradled so tenderly by those brawny arms...

Violet grabbed a sterile gown, put it on over her clothes and slipped into the small, dimly lit visiting room behind the glass window.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Gavin looked up at her. “The nurses wanted me to hold her for a little bit.”

She ambled closer. “I can see that.”

The tenderness in his expression made him all the more handsome. “I have to admit, I never really understood why the parents of premature infants were so loath to leave the nursery and head home to rest.”

She nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. “But you get it now.”

He shot her a knowing grin. “You should give it a try.”

“I don’t want to interrupt...”

He stood and gestured toward the comfortable recliner-rocker he’d been sitting in.

Unable to summon a reason why she shouldn’t start fulfilling her duties as temporary guardian, too, Violet took his place in the seat that still held his warmth. And the enticing soap-and-man scent of his skin.

Gently, he transferred Ava to her arms.

The preemie was incredibly light and fragile, at just a little more than four pounds. As Violet looked down at Ava, a wave of tenderness unlike anything she had ever felt swept through her.

Gavin pulled another chair up to sit beside Violet. Together, they watched the sleeping baby. Neither speaking. Barely moving. Yet united just the same.

Who knew how long they would have stayed that way had Bridgette, the nurse on duty, not come in to reluctantly interrupt. “It’s time to put Ava back in the warmer. But if you’d like to come back later this evening to help us try to get her started on drinking formula from a bottle, that would be great.”

Gavin and Violet exchanged looks. “I’ll be here,” Violet said.

To her surprise Gavin said gruffly, “So will I.”

Bridgette nodded, accepting the news with the same equanimity she accepted the infant. Bridgette looked at her big brother. “Would you mind hanging around for a moment? I really need to talk to you about Nicholas. And, Violet, if you’ve got a moment, I’d like your opinion, too.”

* * *

A
S
SOON
AS
Ava was settled, Bridgette told her coworkers she was taking her break.

The three of them headed for the staff lounge, which was blissfully empty. Although not sure what she might have to contribute in what seemed to be a Monroe family matter, Violet was glad to be of assistance in any way that she could.

Violet and Gavin both got coffee, while Bridgette grabbed a bottle of water. “Nicholas rented a car and went back to Austin this morning,” she said.

“That’s good,” Gavin said.

Bridgette took a seat on the sofa. Violet settled opposite her, and Gavin sank down beside her, close enough she was aware of his steady male presence but not close enough to be touching.