The Playboy's Baby(36)

He let out a heavy sigh. “I really was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

“Something happened.” The alarm in her tone knotted his gut.

“No, I promise. She’s fine. Just…first day foibles.” He let his head fall back against the chair and stared at the tiled ceiling. “You make this stuff look easy. I know we practiced, but she definitely does better for you.”

“We should have practiced more. So, what went wrong?”

“Only everything.” He expelled a pent-up breath, relief flooding his system. “Breakfast was a disaster. She squirms constantly and grabs the spoon, because she wants to feed herself, and if I don’t feed her fast enough, she gets mad. I’m pretty sure the two of us ended up wearing more than she ate.”

His gut roiled with anxiousness, sure at any moment Emma would decide he wasn’t fit to take care of his daughter, and part of him would agree.

Instead, she laughed, warm and alluring. The sound was music to his ears. “It’s rather like trying to feed an octopus actually.”

Relief flooded his system. “Exactly. Lunch wasn’t any better, and naptime was another nightmare. Took me an hour to finally get her down. I managed not to fall asleep this time. And diapers. Ugh. I know we practiced, but I still managed to get a few backwards, and then didn’t notice until I went to take it off again.” He was fairly certain at that point he deserved the idiot of the day award. Who needed directions to put on a diaper? He sighed and lowered his voice. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”

Something rustled on the other end of the phone. His mind filled with visions of her rolling over in bed. Probably had the quilts tucked under her chin.

“Give yourself a break. It’s a learning experience. You can’t expect everything to go right from the start. You’re both adjusting to each other. She’s used to me. I’ve been there since she was born. You’re someone new. You’re doing very well with her, all things considered. Tomorrow will be easier. Now you know what to expect.”

The warm, reassuring tone of her voice eased the knot in his gut. He shook his head. “I sure hope so.”

“Tell me what else happened.”

So the conversation went. He talked, she listened. He enjoyed the sound of her laughter, which made him tell her all the embarrassing tidbits he ought to keep to himself. Like bath time that night.

By the time they hung up last night, he felt close to her. His wish came true; she let her guard down and him in.

Tonight, he hadn’t anticipated getting to call her. It was Friday and the club was packed beyond belief. The more the night wore on, the more he craved the sound of her voice. When a lull in the crowd opened up five minutes ago, he couldn’t resist and slipped up to his office.

“Hi, Dillon.” The sound of Emma’s voice slid around him with all the ease of a familiar lover, warm and entirely too enticing, drawing him back to the present.

He leaned back in his chair, something in his gut easing he didn’t want to contemplate. “Hey.”

“I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you tonight.” Her low, sleepy voice drew up the image, of her, lying in bed, wearing that nightgown that made him crazy.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. I wasn’t sleeping.” She paused, her voice lowering. “I hoped I’d hear from you.”

Her soft admission left him conflicted. It didn’t seem to matter Emma wasn’t the type of woman to use someone. The thought of giving out his heart wanted to send him running for the hills. To hear that she looked forward to their talks the way he did would no doubt get him into a world of trouble, because she was damn hard to resist. How many women had he fallen for, and gotten his heart crushed by, who’d proven the same? Too many to count.

The sound of Emma’s voice slid around him like a warm caress anyway and every muscle tightened in response. He craved the feel of her body against him and stayed on the phone anyway. Simply because it was Emma. She wasn’t like other women.

“I can’t stay on long. It’s a rowdy crowd tonight and I’m still short-handed, but I couldn’t resist. Did you have a good day?”

She hesitated, and then expelled a heavy breath. “Not really.”

“I’m sorry. How come?” Even worse was the sudden, intense desire to somehow make her day better.

“My boss informed me this morning I’m getting laid off. The company’s downsizing. Due to the economy, they can’t afford to keep all of us. They’re letting people go according to seniority. Three of us are being laid off.”

Call him callous, but he couldn’t help thinking she’d provided him with an answer to a prayer. “Ouch. You’ve been there for a while. How long do you have?”