The Baby Surprise (7 page)

“I'm not worried that you'd fall for Zach because of his uniform but in spite of it,” Ashley clarified.

“There's no need to worry at all,” Paige assured her.

She only hoped she sounded more confident than she felt because the truth was, the more time she spent with Zach, the more she forgot about the uniform and focused on the man. And she knew that could undermine all of her plans.

P
aige had seen enough in her family law practice to know that there were good parents and bad parents and some who were simply indifferent. She also knew that some mothers and fathers emulated the parenting practices they'd grown up with, and others consciously chose to distance themselves from same.

Paige didn't remember her mother. She remembered, too well, her father. His apparent lack of interest in and affection for his daughter, his complete disregard of her wants and needs, his callous dismissal of her love. For years, she'd believed that she only had to try harder, be better, study more, or look prettier, and if she succeeded, then he might actually see her, maybe even care about her.

After her thirteenth birthday, she'd realized how delusional she'd been. And she'd decided that if she wanted any attention from her father—and as foolish as she knew it was, she still
did—she was going to have to take drastic action to get that attention.

That was when she'd started hanging out with the older kids on base, breaking curfew and, when she was grounded, sneaking out at night to go to parties. And then she'd met Second Lieutenant Matthew Sanders. She'd known he was older—that was part of the attraction for her. Not old enough that anyone would accuse her of looking for a father figure, just old enough to shock her own father, if he ever noticed that she was with him.

Of course, Colonel Phillip Wilder hadn't noticed—not until she'd taken her rebellion further than she'd intended, until it was too late to go back and undo what had been done.

She shook off the memories and the regrets and reminded herself that she'd learned an important lesson from her father—how
not
to parent.

She'd thought, when she first saw Zach in his uniform, that he would be like her father. After knowing him only a few days, she'd realized she was wrong. Zach was nothing like the colonel. His determination to be a father to Emma was proof of that, and Paige knew that she couldn't continue to interfere with his efforts.

So when they got back from their appointment at Cam's office and Zach suggested a trip to the park, Paige surprised him as much as herself by suggesting that he and Emma go on their own. And she took advantage of the unexpected time to herself to enjoy a book and the quiet outside in the sunshine.

 

If Zach knew nothing else about Emma, he knew that she loved the park. And since he'd started accompanying her on her daily excursions there, she seemed to be willing to transfer some of that happy feeling in his direction. But today, she wasn't nearly as pleased with their outing as usual.

When he took her over to the swings, she seemed more
interested in playing in the wood shavings that were spread on the ground. Which was okay until he caught her trying to put them in her mouth. He told her “no” and forced her to unfurl her fists to brush the chips away, which of course caused her to express her displeasure at the top of her lungs with huge tears thrown in for dramatic effect.

After she'd finally finished crying, she decided that she wanted to go on the swings, but as soon as he settled her in and set it in motion, she was squirming to get out again. So he took her to the slide instead, then she ran to the climber then back to the swings.

He tried to be patient, but it seemed that nothing he did was making her happy. When she started rubbing her eyes, he finally figured out that she was tired. She'd gone down for her nap at what he now knew was her usual time, but she'd been awakened early so they could make their appointment for the DNA testing. Although she'd seemed happy enough then, he was paying for it now.

When he got her back to the house, Paige was in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of iced tea.

“You look exhausted,” she commented. “Both of you.”

“Why do you find that amusing?” he asked, inexplicably irritated by the hint of a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth.

She shrugged, not denying that she did. “Because I know what you were thinking when you waltzed in here that first day.”

He had never “waltzed” anywhere in his life—except on a dance floor—but he ignored that fact for the moment to ask, “What is it you think I was thinking?”

“That considering your extensive military training and the ability to maneuver an F-16 jet, taking care of a baby would be a piece of cake.”

“I'm not sure I thought it would be a piece of cake,” he denied. “But I certainly didn't expect it to be this hard.”

“She's teething,” she reminded him.

“She's crankier than a constipated general,” he grumbled.

Paige broke a Popsicle in two, gave one half to Emma and put the other half back in the freezer for later. Emma immediately began gnawing on the icy treat.

“How is it that you instinctively know what she wants?”

“It's not instinctive,” she denied. “Or not entirely. Mostly it's practice. Five-and-a-half-months ago I was as ill-equipped as you are now.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

She lifted a brow. “Because I'm female, you assume I was more automatically prepared to deal with a child?”

“No, because you're obviously so good with her.”

She was somewhat mollified by his response. “As I said, it's practice. I've been around her since Emma was born, so I learned to read her signals. You'll figure it out, too, if you stick around long enough.”

He leaned back against the counter, folded his arms over his chest. “You do that a lot, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Take those not-so-subtle digs at me.”

“I'm not trying to be subtle,” she told him. “I want to make sure that you realize what kind of commitment parenthood requires.”

“I'm getting a pretty good picture,” he assured her.

“And how do you think child care is going to fit in with your career?”

He ignored her question to ask his own. “What branch of the military was your father in?”

“Army,” she answered automatically, then glared at him as if it was his fault she'd revealed information she obviously hadn't intended to share. “But we're not talking about me, we're talking about Emma.”

“Except if your concerns about her future stem from your personal history,” he guessed.

“They don't,” she said, but he knew it was a lie.

 

When Zach suggested that he wanted to try to put Emma down for another nap, Paige willingly went back outside to her book and the sunshine. She'd only read a few pages when she realized she'd forgotten her drink, so she set the paperback on the table and traipsed back into the house again.

She didn't return to the house intending to spy on him. But when she went into the kitchen to retrieve her glass, she heard his deep voice through the baby monitor on the counter.

“Do you think I can't handle a challenge?” he was saying, apparently to Emma, who, of course, didn't respond. “Do you think I can't manage to change one poopy diaper just because you're pumping your legs and flailing your fists?

“I know Paige thinks I can't handle it. In fact, she's probably counting on me giving up on the whole fatherhood thing. But I've got news for both of you,” he continued, still speaking in the same even tone. “I am a lieutenant colonel in the United States Air Force and there's no way I'm going to let a fourteen-month-old baby see me crumble, no matter—

“OhmyLord, child, what did you eat that turned into
that?
”

Paige smiled, picturing the look of complete horror on his face that she heard in his voice.

For a few minutes, she heard only background noises. The whisper of wipes being tugged out of their container, some muted gagging, the click of the latch on the diaper disposal, the crinkle of a new diaper being unfolded, a quiet gurgle of appreciation, the snap of buttons being refastened. Then Zach spoke again.

“We've already made progress, haven't we?” he was murmuring softly to her now. “Only a few days ago, you would have rather screamed than smiled at me, and although we
might have had a little setback at the park, now you're snuggled in my arms and your eyes are drifting shut.”

He was right, Paige realized. He had made a lot of progress with Emma in a short time, so much so that the little girl looked around for him when she heard his voice and smiled when he came into the room. And she wondered, not for the first time, if she'd made a mistake in inviting Zach to stay with them.

Because Paige was beginning to realize that not only had he made progress with the little girl he was currently rocking to sleep, he was making progress with her, too. She was actually starting to
like
him, and that wasn't just foolish, it was potentially dangerous.

“I said ‘your eyes are drifting shut,'” Zach repeated, and Paige smiled, easily picturing Emma's big blue eyes stubbornly wide open, staring up at him as he tried to coax her to sleep.

She wondered what his air force buddies would think if they could see him now, attempting baby hypnosis. But the silence from the baby monitor told her that he'd not only attempted but succeeded, forcing her to accept that there probably wasn't anything the man couldn't do.

Considering that he might seek custody of the little girl, the realization was hardly reassuring.

With a sigh, she picked up her glass and went back outside.

 

Four chapters later, Paige realized that Zach hadn't made an appearance since he'd gone upstairs to put Emma down for her nap. Curious, she went back into the house and made her way up the stairs.

She found him when she peeked into Emma's room. The baby was finally asleep in his arms and Zach looked as if he was sleeping, too. She hesitated in the doorway, tempted to leave them undisturbed. But she knew that Emma would
sleep better and longer if she was settled in her crib, and Zach would likely end up with a stiff neck if she left him as he was with his head tilted back in the chair.

She slid one hand beneath Emma's head and the other under her legs, but as she started to lift the sleeping child, Zach's grip instinctively tightened. Paige had no intention of playing tug-of-war with the baby, but now her hands were trapped.

She could feel the heat emanating from his body, and her own started to tingle. She swallowed and tried to ease away, but his hold on the baby held her just as fast.

She drew in a breath and inhaled his warm masculine scent. Oh, he smelled good. And looked even better.

His T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and molded to his pecs, and his jeans hugged his long, lean legs. Had he shown up at her door dressed as casually as he was now, she likely would have melted in a puddle at his feet. But the uniform had made her cautious, urged her to maintain a safe distance. She tried to picture him in that uniform now, but her mind insisted on wanting to undress him instead.

She swallowed, hard, recognizing that she was in big trouble here.

“What are you doing?”

Her gaze flew to Zach's face.

His eyes were open now, alert, and focused intently on her.

“I, uh—” Oh Lord, his eyes were so blue and so intense that she nearly lost her train of thought. “Emma,” she suddenly remembered. “I was going to put Emma in her crib.”

“I can do it,” Zach said.

“Oh. Of course,” she agreed. “But I was walking by and it looked like you were sleeping, too, and—”

“I just closed my eyes for a minute.”

Paige nodded and tugged her hands free.

Zach rose from the chair with the baby in his arms. “I wouldn't have dropped her, you know.”

She nodded again because she knew it was true. Because she knew that Zach wouldn't do anything to harm Emma, and the obvious evidence of his affection for the child was seriously undermining Paige's resolve to keep him at a distance.

He settled Emma on her mattress, pulled the blanket up over her. “I would protect my daughter with my life.”

Yeah, she'd realized that, too. And how was she supposed to resist a man who so clearly loved the little girl? But she had to ask, “Are you really that convinced—or are you just so stubborn that you can't consider the possibility, any superficial physical resemblance aside, that she might not be your daughter?”

“Did Olivia sleep around?”

“No,” Paige responded immediately, firmly, in defense of her friend.

“Was she dishonest?”

“No,” she said again, because even though she could see where he was going with these questions, she couldn't lie to him.

“Then why would I question her claim that I am the father of her child?”

Paige sighed as she followed him out into the hall. “Because most men probably would.”

“I'm not going to lie and say that I was filled with joy and anticipation when I read Olivia's letter,” he told her, starting down the steps. “The truth is, I was stunned and more than a little panicked. And maybe my first instinct was to deny the possibility. But once I'd had a chance to think about it, I knew that Olivia wouldn't lie about something like this.”

“I know you're right,” Paige admitted. “But what if Olivia wasn't lying but was simply mistaken? It's not beyond the realm of possibility to think that she had a brief fling
with someone else and didn't consider that the baby might be his.”

“Well, I guess we'll know the truth soon enough.”

“I guess we will,” she agreed.

“In the meantime…” He paused at the bottom of the staircase and turned to face her.

Because she was still standing on the last step, they were eye to eye. Her fingers curled around the newel post; her breath caught. His gaze dropped to her mouth, as if he wanted to kiss her. Paige started to sway forward, as if she wanted him to kiss her.

Then Zach took a quick step back. “In the meantime, I wanted to talk to you about something.”