Bargaining for Baby(13)

After the way Maddy had held onto him in the moonlight, her fingers   twisting in his shirt, her mouth opening under his, inviting and   welcoming him in …

Inhaling, he slipped into his vehicle, ignited the engine and pulled away from the curb.

It was foregone. Maddy felt the same way. She wanted what he wanted.   Before the week was through, he would convince her they should take it.



Call back. Urgent re Pompadour account.

Biting her lip, Maddy shifted her gaze from the text message to baby Beau lying, happy and energetic, on a nearby blanket.                       
       
           



       

Beau had had his lunchtime bottle but had been too restless to go down.   She'd done some research; babies' routines changed all the  time-teething  problems, going to solids, natural decline in naps-all  shook up what  might seem like a set schedule. Rather than fight the  tide, she'd spread  a blanket out beneath the sprawling umbrella of a  Poinciana tree and  for the past twenty minutes had watched him kick and  coo to his heart's  content.

Although everyone back home knew she was unavailable, out of habit she'd   brought along her BlackBerry. While her father had been frosty about   her request for this unscheduled break, he wouldn't have left that   message without good reason.

Maddy set the phone against her chin as her stomach flipped over.

Urgent …

Had Pompadour Shoes pulled the plug without having seen the campaign?   Had another agency stolen their business? Or worse … had her father's   disappointment turned to action? Had he replaced her on the account?

Her thumb was poised over Redial when Nell appeared out of nowhere and   sat herself down a few feet away. Maddy's blood pressure climbed and she   reached for Beau who, unconcerned, gnawed on a length of his rattle.   But Nell's attention was elsewhere … fixed on the hazy distance, her ears   perked high.

Maddy breathed-slowly in, calmly out.

If the dog wanted to sit around, okay. She didn't have dibs on this   square of lawn, as long as Nell didn't get any ideas about wanting to   socialize. But when Beau began to grumble, Nell trotted over and the   hairs on the back of Maddy's neck stood up straight. Thankfully the   collie didn't stop and soon Maddy knew why. The sound of an engine. The   same sound she'd heard leaving the property early that morning.

Jack was home.

Maddy's heart began to thud. How would he tackle the subject of last   night? Maybe he wouldn't bring up that kiss at all, which was fine by   her. During the hours before dawn, she'd reflected enough on the   blissful way his mouth had worked over hers. Useless thoughts had wound a   never-ending loop in her mind, like what if Cait had discovered them?   Where would it have led if she hadn't pulled away?

Maddy shuddered. The fallout didn't bear considering. If not another   word was mentioned about that accident, she'd be happy. Surely Jack-a   man considering marriage-felt the same way. As far as she was concerned,   that caress never happened.

Nell belted a path out into the open space and a few moments later   reappeared, ushering in the late model four-wheel drive. The vehicle   braked and when the door opened, Maddy's limbs turned to jelly. Setting   his Akubra in place, Jack angled out, looking taller and more  formidable  than she remembered.

Everything about him spoke of confidence and ability. Raw outback   masculinity and pride. Good thing he was practically engaged or she   might forget her resolve about last night's embarrassment and launch   herself at him.

He made a motion. Nell rolled over and he rubbed her belly with the toe   of his big boot. Patting her damp palms on her khaki pants, Maddy  pasted  on a nondescript smile. When Jack's gaze tracked her down, she  gave a  business-as-usual salute. He acknowledged her with a short nod  and  headed over. With each long, measured stride, her heart beat more   wildly. She looked at those strong, large hands and felt them kneading   her nape, pressing meaningfully on her back. She saw the shadow on his   jaw and relived the delicious graze against her cheek, around her lips.

The next thirteen days would be tantamount to torture-not wanting to say   goodbye to Beau, yet having to get back to Sydney. Needing to leave  the  memory of that kiss behind yet craving to know the sensation again.   Talk about chronic inner turmoil.

Jack hunkered down beside the baby, his boots dusty and blue jeans   stretched at the knee. When Beau's rattle slipped from his tiny grasp,   Jack picked it up and shook the plastic keys until Beau grabbed and   stuck one back in his mouth.

A side of Jack's mouth hiked up. "Guess he's hungry."

"He's had lunch. I think he's ready to be put down."

Jack tickled Beau's tummy and, enjoying it, the baby squawked and threw   the keys down. Jack chuckled softly. "He looks like Dahlia. Same cheeky   grin." Maddy smiled. Cheeky grins must run in the family. Whenever  Jack  smiled at her that certain way, whenever his gaze dipped to stroke  her  lips, she could dissolve into a puddle, no problem at all. Guess  he'd  worked that out last night.

Cait called from the top of the stairs. "Want some lunch, Jock?"

Still on haunches, he swiveled around on the toes of his boots. "I'll get something later."                       
       
           



       

Cait nodded. "Can I put the bairn down for you, Maddy?"

"I can do it," Maddy called back.

But Cait was already on her way. "You can indeed. But he hasn't been out of your sight since seven this morning."

Jack scooped the baby up and gave him a little bounce in the air before handing him up to Cait.

Beaming, Cait brought him close. "Now it's my turn for a wee cuddle."

Beau looked so at home in Cait's arms, Maddy had no reason to cut   in … except, after Cait and Beau's departure, she and Jack would be left   completely alone. The idea set her pulse hammering all the more.

As Cait and the baby vanished back into the house, Maddy gathered her   highly-strung nerves. She'd simply have to deal with this situation in   an adult-like manner. She'd offer a sentence or two while keeping   communication friendly but unquestionably aboveboard. Then, after a   reasonably short amount of time, she could follow Cait inside. Distance,   and safety from possible humiliation and regret, accomplished.

With a blithe air, she collected her BlackBerry off the blanket. "Interesting that Cait calls you Jock."

"Jock. Jack. Jum. All short for James."

Maddy's insides clutched. Jack was James?

She remembered his reaction-the flinch-that first day she'd told him the   baby's name. He and Dahlia hadn't spoken in years and yet she'd named   her baby in part after her big brother-Beau James. Maddy could only   imagine the stab of guilt when he heard. The gut wrench of regret and   humility.

Her voice was soft. "It must've meant a lot to know Dahlia remembered you that way."

He removed his hat and filed a hand through his thick hair. "It was our   grandfather's name, too. A family name. But, yeah, it was … nice."

Staring at his hat, he ran a finger and thumb around the felt rim then   pushed to his feet. Squinting against the sun sitting high in the   cloudless sky, he glanced around.

"Great day. Not too hot." He cocked a brow at her. "How about a ride?"

Maddy couldn't help it. She laughed. He never gave up. Which could be a   problem if he applied that philosophy to what had happened outside the   stables last night. But he hadn't needed convincing; when she'd put up   the wall, reminded him of a couple of facts, he'd promptly taken his   leave.

At his core, Jack was an old fashioned type. He'd had an emotional wreck   of a week. Their talk beneath the full moon-the comfortable, dreamy   atmosphere it created-had caught them both unprepared. Now, however,   they were fully aware of the dangers close proximity could bring. He was   involved with another woman. Maddy had no intention of kissing Jack   Prescott again.

She had less intention of jumping on a horse.

With a finger swipe, she alleviated her phone's screen of fine dust. "Think I'll leave the rodeo tricks to the experts."

"You don't have to leap six-foot fences. We can start off at a walk. Or we could double."

Maddy guffawed. With her arms around his waist, her brea**sts rubbing   against his back …  After seeing reason so soundly last night, surely he   knew that suggestion was akin to teasing a fuse with a lit match.