Chapter Five
Haley finished making the bed and took in the bedroom quickly. Perfect. She moved softly out of the room and gently closed the door behind her. Rosie was down for her afternoon nap, and Haley needed to get dinner going.
The end of week two was going well. Of course, there was the growing concern for a few matters—the first being that Connor barely interacted with Rosie. At first, she thought it was jitters and that he didn’t know how to be a father. Now she was getting concerned that there was more to it. It had all started the day Luke told them about the fetal alcohol syndrome possibility. She witnessed Connor detach. She was getting to know him well enough that she didn’t think it had to do with a lack of responsibility or wanting a child with a possible disability, but rather from a deep-seated guilt. Because Connor gave off vibes that he was deep. It was odd; looking at him, you kind of assumed he was all attitude and hotness, yet there was this other side to him…
Her other concern was that…she was getting feelings for him. Feelings other than attraction. He was so sweet to her. He helped her around the house— anything that didn’t involve Rosie. She was coming to forget how uptight she used to be in her marriage. Just the faintest noise used to set her off, but not anymore. She was feeling too good, too safe.
She thought it would be a good time to do a quick sweep of the floors. She frowned when she opened the laundry room closet door and noticed three large file boxes. She hadn’t seen these before. Was it nosy of her to open them? Yes. Nosy. On the other hand, she really didn’t know much about Connor and…she opened the lid on the first one and her stomach dropped as she scanned all the neatly labeled files…they all had to do with fetal alcohol syndrome. She pulled the first one out, a thick file with papers printed from various sources. They were highlighted and marked. She carefully moved aside the first box and removed the lid on the second. More of the same. Same with the third box— it was filled with articles on fetal alcohol syndrome, what to do once your child was diagnosed—therapists, centers, supplements. She blinked back tears and carefully put all the boxes as they were.
She was right. He cared so much, but the poor man hadn’t let on at all. When had he had time to read everything? He worked late every night. He was up by five every morning. How fast could he read? And they were for sure all read because there was highlighting and notes in the margins. How could he have read all of that in so little time?
“Hi.”
Haley screamed at the sound of Connor’s voice behind her. She spun around, and she couldn’t tell if he was mad or amused. Her heart was still hammering inside her chest and embarrassment flooded her body. “Hi,” she managed to croak. “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”
“Clearly.”
She tried to close the closet door in a last-ditch attempt at hiding the fact that she’d been snooping.
“You forgot to put the lid back on the top one,” he said, an adorably infuriating smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.
She shut the lid, and then her eyes, because of her mortification. “Honestly, I wasn’t trying to spy on you. I came in here to get the broom and then happened to see these boxes.”
“Haley, it’s fine.”
The softness, and laughter, in his voice made her open her eyes. He wasn’t mad at her. She had been bracing herself for anger, even though he’d never shown her any. “Really?”
“Really. I came home early to give you a break. I thought maybe we could order pizza and watch a movie or something.”
She swallowed. “What?”
He shrugged, taking off his jacket. She forced herself to keep her eyes on his and not wander over the broad shoulders and heavy biceps, which was very hard to do because she usually got a quick peek in the early evening when he walked from the washroom to the bedroom wearing nothing but boxers. Better than dessert, really. “Yeah. Unless you have other plans.”
She let out a snort and then tried to hide the disgusting noise with a cough. “That sounds great. I was about to start dinner, so perfect timing.”
“Great. I’m going to shower.”
It wasn’t until he left the room that she realized she hadn’t asked him about the boxes. She glanced at her watch. Movie. Takeout. This should be a date. She bolted to her room and quickly freshened up: lip gloss, hair brushing, deodorant, and a spritz of lilac perfume. Done. She glanced down at her formula-stained sweater and decided a quick change was in order. She flung her drawer open and decided on a sweater that was very similar looking so that he might not notice she’d changed. The leggings were going to have to stay. Jeans looked like too much effort. Also she didn’t want to deal with the possibility of a muffin-top situation since she hadn’t worn them in three weeks, and she’d been baking and cooking like Ina Garten. How could a mom who hadn’t given birth gain baby weight?
She took a deep breath, glanced in the mirror, and reminded herself this wasn’t a date. This was ordering pizza with her employer and possibly watching a movie. That was all. But her employer happened to be very hot, and lived under the same roof. Also, said employer had been the subject of many of her dreams these last weeks. Oh God, she was a goner.
She re-entered the main room with what she hoped was poise. Connor was just getting off the phone. “All right,” he said, looking serious and grave. “Luigi said he’s out of pepperoni. So, I had to improvise. I got us a Hawaiian and vegetarian.”
She laughed. “That’s fine.”
He looked relieved. “Good. I was a little pissed, but whatever.”
“I have never seen you angry, but no pepperoni gets you riled up?”
He shrugged. “I’d been dreaming of a meat lover’s pizza all day. Can’t have that without pepperoni.”
Meat lover’s. He wasn’t even thinking anything other than the fact that there would now be a meat deficiency on his pizza. “Why don’t I get Rosie’s bottle warmed up, that way by the time the pizza gets here she’ll be all fed and changed and we should be able to eat and watch a movie.”
“Sure.” He didn’t make a move toward the bedroom to get Rosie. She was going to have to push a little harder because she was getting very concerned with his lack of involvement with her. He needed to bond with her.
“Why don’t you get Rosie?”
A shadow flashed across his eyes and he looked down for a moment, his hands in the front of his jean pockets. “I’ll get the bottle,” he said and walked by her into the kitchen.
Her heart sank but she went to the bedroom to get Rosie, who was already awake and making adorable cooing noises. She smiled down at the perfect little baby. Rosie’s bright blue eyes latched onto hers, and Haley felt the connection to the little girl grow even stronger. She reached out and picked her up, loving the way her soft, snuggly body curled into hers. She whispered to Rosie as she changed her diaper. The little girl looked up at her as though she was listening and understanding. “I’m going to fix this for you, Rosie. I’m going to help your daddy. He’s a good man, and I’m going to show him how deserving he is of you.”
She changed Rosie’s sleeper into a pink velour one with white flowers. She smiled at the baby as she carefully wiped her face and brushed the thin layer of hair on her head. She blinked back tears as emotions and memories of her own dreams, her own babies, flooded her. She would want Rosie to be hers in a heartbeat. She would give anything to have this child be her own. Life’s ultimate cruel joke was that there were people out there that didn’t want their children, and so many others that would give anything for the privilege of being a parent. She picked Rosie up and held her close, cherishing the little girl and giving her a kiss on her soft cheek. She was going to get through to her father. She was going to force Connor to fall in love with this baby.
When she made it back to the main room, Connor was pulling a bottle of wine from the wine rack. He made eye contact with her across the room and her mouth went dry. They had both been in survival mode. But something was happening. Something was changing. She read it in the look he gave her. “I thought you might want a glass of wine with the pizza,” he said, holding up her favorite wine.
She walked forward, also noticing he’d lit the candles. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”
He gave her an adorable half smile that left her breathless. “I asked Gwen.”
Oh. Oh. “Thanks,” she said as he poured a glass. The doorbell rang and he handed her the glass and went to answer the door. A moment later, he was in the middle of the room, holding two giant pizza boxes.
“Do we want to eat on the couch?” he asked, already walking over there.
“Perfect. Maybe you hold Rosie, and I’ll get us some plates,” she said. She handed Rosie over before he could come up with an excuse. She sort of shoved her into his chest and he quickly wrapped his hands around her and sheltered her head in his chest. She couldn’t even hide her smile of satisfaction. She was going to fix this whole thing. By the time she left them in the fall, they were going to be a happy father-daughter family. She was also not going to think about leaving them. Time for wine. She grabbed plates and napkins and Rosie’s bottle that was warm and sitting on the counter and then joined them on the couch.
She needed to get him to feed Rosie. That was major bonding. She wished her stomach could growl on cue or something. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast,” she said, holding her stomach. “It smells so good.”
He frowned. “Well…why don’t you eat first? I guess I can feed Rosie.”
She hid her smile and handed him the bottle. “Thanks. That’s so great. I think I have blood sugar issues.”
Judging by the slight twitch of his lips she may have taken her ploy a little too far. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to faint or anything.”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze and took a piece of her gooey and delicious pizza. “Omigod, this is the best thing I’ve tasted since Gwen brought chocolate cake to Sunday night dinner.” She flopped onto the couch beside them and looked over to see how the feeding situation was going. Her heart squeezed, and she stopped chewing at the sight of Connor and his little baby. He didn’t even look as though he’d heard what she’d said. He was staring down at Rosie, who was looking up at him with the biggest eyes as she steadily downed her bottle. This was it. No one could resist Rosie’s eyes. Every time that little girl looked at her, she fell a little bit more in love.
She finished the rest of her pizza in silence, mesmerized by the sight of father and daughter. The image of the two of them was so precious. It was like Rosie knew him on some level. Even though she hadn’t spent that much time with him, she knew him, she felt comforted by him. When the bottle was finished and Connor looked up at her, she knew he was a goner. There was a sheen in his eyes and his jaw was clenching and unclenching.
He cleared his throat. “What do I do now?”
She put her empty plate down. “She should be burped. Just put her on your shoulder, but don’t move too quickly, she has a tendency to eject everything she puts in quite easily. Then you can rub her back until she burps. I think I should get you a receiving blanket,” she said, standing. But Connor had already moved her onto his shoulder. She ran to the kitchen where she kept a stash of blankets and she returned in time to see projectile formula cascade out of Rosie’s mouth and onto Connor’s back. “Oh, man,” he said. “You weren’t joking. Is it as bad as it feels?”
She winced, coming closer and assessing the situation. “Worse,” she whispered. The entire back of his shirt and top of his jeans were plastered to him. “Okay. No need to panic. You need to take off your clothes and shower.” Of course the minute she ordered him to take his clothes off things got funny. For her, anyway. He was looking like he was ready to throw up.
“Hand me Rosie,” she said, taking her. Rosie was as happy as could be, even though Haley knew she’d be hungry again very soon after all that spit up formula.
“I can’t move,” Connor said, wincing.
She nodded. “Take off your clothes here. I’ll throw them in the washer.” Her face was probably as bright as a tomato.
Again, he didn’t seem to sense her awkwardness because he carefully peeled his wet shirt off and shrugged out of his jeans. She was going to pass out. Maybe she’d be able to blame it on her made up blood sugar issues. She was an idiot. So of course she’d seen him here and there without all his clothes in the last two weeks. And yes, she’d seen guys before. She had been married as well. This…was entirely different. Connor without clothes was a situation life had never prepared her for. She tried to speak, but her mouth was dry. There were far too many muscles and tattoos happening.
“Going to shower, then I’ll take that stuff to the washing machine,” he said, walking out of the room.
Don’t turn around and look. So she turned around and looked. Good grief, the man was like a walking statue of male perfection. Tall and muscular, like a bronzed god.
Where did her wine go? She was trying to act cool, but it wasn’t happening. Her pulse was racing and nothing had even happened between them. He didn’t even give any indication he was aware of her current pathetic state. She took a big gulp of wine and then assessed Rosie. Not even an ounce of formula had ended up on the baby. She smiled at her and then got her settled in her bassinet.
She heard the water running in the shower and picked up Connor’s clothes then ran a load of laundry. When she came back into the family room he was already back and looking better than the pizza. “Feel better?” She pretended to look like she wasn’t picturing him without his clothes on. She needed counseling.
“Yeah,” he said with a slight laugh. He flipped open the lid on his Hawaiian pizza and took three slices out and flopped them onto his plate. “Thanks for grabbing my clothes. I could have done that.”
“No worries. You not having wine?” she asked, taking a sip of hers.
“I’m not much of a wine drinker.”
“Beer?”
He shrugged, a strange look coming across his handsome features. “I don’t feel like any.”
“Oh. Okay,” she said, an idea suddenly occurring to her. She’d seen him drink—at the wedding, a glass at the Baileys on Sunday night, but maybe his sudden aversion had to do with the guilt with Rosie and the fetal alcohol syndrome.
“So since Rosie spit up what had to be the entire contents of that bottle, does that mean she’s going to need to eat again?” he asked, finishing off his first slice.
She nodded, happy in his interest in Rosie. “Yup, I’d say within the hour.”
He smiled before starting on his next piece of pizza. She wondered if this would be a good time to discuss the contents of the boxes. That also meant remembering that she’d been caught snooping. Oh well, for Rosie’s sake she’d do it. “Are you going to be reading through all that stuff you piled up and filed? I can help, if you want.”
He stopped chewing for a moment, his blue eyes latching onto hers. For a second she thought he wasn’t going to reply at all. “I already read them,” he said, resuming his chewing. His feet were up on the coffee table and he was leaning back, eating like he didn’t have a care in the world. Lies. She knew he was going through a lot, but he couldn’t express himself.
“You don’t have to lie.”
Again, chewing stopped, eyes on hers. “I don’t lie.”
“But how could you have read all that? It was all filed and highlighted and—”
“Are you sure you haven’t read all three boxes?” he asked, a smirk making her realize he wasn’t upset with her. She did feel her cheeks heat up at the implication that she’d snooped so extensively.
“There’s no way you could have read all that.”
He shrugged, placing his now empty plate on the table. “I’m a fast reader.”
Something didn’t add up. He worked long days, six days a week. There was no time to research, read, file, and take notes. “I always thought I was a fast reader, but nothing like that. Did…you find what you were looking for?”
He sighed. “I guess.”
“Do you feel better?”
He ran a hand over his stubbly jaw. “As good as a person could feel knowing that they had an unplanned baby with a person who may or may not have been drinking their entire pregnancy.”
She reached across the couch to touch his arm. It was an instinct to want to comfort those she cared about. It should have been an innocent touch, but the feel of his hot, hard flesh beneath her hand sent off alarm bells inside her head. There was nothing platonic about her feelings for Connor. The attraction she felt for him was real and very worrisome.
“Haley,” he said, the rough tenderness in his voice beckoning her, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her stomach twirled around and her toes curled. She should drop her hand now. Right about now. Or sometime soon, for sure.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You know how grateful I am to you, right?”
She nodded, not saying anything, waiting, wanting the moment to never end. Because this was so new to her. Being next to a strong, kind, sweet man, and not having an ounce of fear in her body. She wanted more. So much more from him.
“You know that nothing can ever happen between us,” he said, pulling back slightly. Her arm fell and humiliation swept through her, harsh and fierce.
“Of course,” she whispered, waving a hand, praying that she’d be able to look and sound convincing. “That would be so stupid. I’m leaving. You’re starting a life here. There’s no way we could work, this would be all wrong. Right?”
He stood up abruptly and ran a hand through his hair as he walked across the room. She tried not to let the sting of his rejection show. She’d put herself out there, not even intentionally, but he’d shot her down instantly. “Haley…”
“No, never mind. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. Must be the wine and loneliness. I haven’t had wine in ages.” Lies. She’d had wine last week with her friends. Well, not all lies because she had never been able to handle a second glass of wine well. She was into her second, and it usually managed to lift the cloak of self-discipline. “And all I do is talk to a baby who can’t speak back yet. I was really blabbing nonsensically.”
His wince was even more painful. He knew she was trying to save face. But again, he did nothing to indicate he had feelings for her. So it was one-sided; that was fine. She wasn’t even ready for a relationship. “I’m not ready for a relationship, anyway,” she continued babbling because he just stood there looking gorgeous and untouchable. “Another man is the last thing this girl needs,” she said, clearing the pizza boxes and plates. “I need another man in my life like I need a bad case of shingles.”
She thought she heard a choked laugh, but since she wasn’t looking at him, she continued speaking and crossed the room to the kitchen. “Really, stinky socks, food demands, criticism, having to look perfect all the time, someone telling you you’re not good enough, always pointing out your faults, yelling, slamming doors. I mean, who needs that?” She probably shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine, judging by the look on his face. She thought he was going to walk out of the room, but he just stood there with a look of sympathy. She didn’t know what she preferred.
“Haley,” he said roughly.
She swallowed hard when he started crossing the room toward her. Uh-oh. She slung back the rest of her wine and placed it on the counter, belatedly realizing chugging alcohol might not be the best look for her. He didn’t stop walking until he was about an inch or so from her. He had amazing light-blue flecks in his eyes, and up close she could see he had a tiny scar above his lips. She really shouldn’t stare at his mouth, but while she was, she had to admit it was a very sensual-looking mouth. She stood there, not moving, maybe not really breathing either. Again, that blood sugar line was really coming in handy.
“Haley,” he said again in that voice that made her toes curl. She lifted her eyes from his mouth to meet his gaze.
“Um, yes?”
“You’re good enough.”
She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t, because her emotions were swirling around inside her, tying up her words, until she didn’t know what to say. For a second it looked as though he was going to touch her, or move forward, but instead he backed up a step. His face was tight, his eyes stormy. “You are more than good enough, and if anyone ever made you think otherwise, or told you otherwise, they never deserved you.”
She stood there, watching him leave, wishing they could be more. She wished for lots of things—the first being that she hadn’t had two glasses of wine and could say something profound and witty. The second was that she wished she’d met Connor years ago, before she’d made the worst decision of her life. And third, she wished that this little family they had was real.