Chapter 24
“We should make it to Misty Bottoms just in time for Jax’s doctor’s appointment. You still up for going with me?”
The goodbyes had been difficult, and they’d been a little late leaving his folks’ house.
She studied his face—those deep dimples, that sexy mouth, and those mind-blowing eyes. Maybe she should have sucker tattooed across her forehead, but she had indeed promised. “Absolutely.”
“Great. While I’ve got you captive, there’s another problem you might be able to help with.”
“Oh?”
“I need to slap some paint on the shop walls, but I keep changing my mind about the office color. Since that’s where we’ll actually sit down with clients, it matters.”
“Yes, it does.” She chewed at her lip. “Do you have a special color, one that makes you happy?”
“Like your blue?”
“Actually, I had a tough time with that. I played with the idea of an all-white shop but worried that both the bride and my gowns would get lost. My next thought was pink, which seemed too shopworn.”
“How’d you end up with that particular shade of blue?”
“I’ve always loved blue, but to be honest? When it came time to decide, all those little paint chips at Beck’s made my head swim. I couldn’t pull the trigger.”
“Yet you did.”
“With Beck’s help. He asked if I had anything I really loved for its color. I said yes, the dress I had on, and that was that. He matched the paint to it.”
“You picked your shop’s color based on the dress you were wearing?”
She shrugged. “You asked.”
“I did.”
“So, Brant, what one thing do you love the color of?”
“Your eyes.”
She raised a hand to her throat. “Brant—”
“You asked.”
* * *
They reached the city limits and headed straight to the pediatrician’s. Molly flipped down the sun visor and glanced at the happy baby. Poor little tyke had no idea what was in store.
Did Brant? Had he checked today’s agenda? She’d Googled it, and it didn’t look pretty.
After they signed in, Molly played with the baby while Brant sprawled in a chair, reading an article in Sports Illustrated about baseball’s upcoming spring training.
Not five minutes later, the nurse called them back, and surprisingly, the doctor walked into the exam room right behind them.
“I’m Dr. Yancy.” He held out a hand to Molly, then Brant. “You’ve got yourselves one cute baby, Mr. and Mrs. Wylder.”
Brant cleared his throat. “We’re not married.”
This stopped the doctor for only a second. “The important thing is you’re both here for your child.”
“Jax isn’t…” Brant glanced at Molly. “Help me.”
Men. “Dr. Yancy, Brant’s sister, the baby’s mother, was injured in a car accident. She, uh, she—”
Brant nodded. “It’s okay. Tell him.”
“Why don’t you?”
The doctor looked from one to the other.
“It’s easier for you,” Brant said.
“Oh, for—His sister’s out of the hospital now, but she’s in rehab for an alcohol problem. Brant’s caring for his nephew while she’s there. I’m just a friend who’s helping out.”
Brant frowned. What was with this “just a friend” thing? Of course she was a friend. Anybody could see that. But just? No, she wasn’t just a friend. Nobody kissed her friend the way she kissed him! And he sure as heck had never kissed a friend the way he kissed her!
That conversation would wait till they were alone, though.
He compromised and slid a hand over hers, interlacing their fingers. Then, his eyes on hers, he raised her hand to his lips, kissed the palm.
The expression on her face was priceless.
Then those incomparable eyes darkened. Oh yeah, there’ll be hell to pay later.
He grinned, actually looking forward to it.
The doctor broke into his thoughts. “That explains the situation very well, Miss…”
“Stiles. Molly Stiles. I own That Little White Dress.”
“Ah, the wedding boutique. My sister’s on the hunt for her perfect dress. I’ll send her to see you.”
“Please do. If the dress exists—and I’m certain it does—we’ll find it.”
“Wonderful. Now, let’s see how this little fellow’s doing.” The doctor reached for Jax, who turned his head in to Molly’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, sweetie.” She handed him to the doctor. “Geez, I feel like a Judas.”
Dr. Yancy gave Jax a quick visual inspection, tapped his belly, and checked his soft spot and gums. “He’s got a couple teeth ready to break through, but I guess you know that.” He flicked the damp bib, and Jax, quick as any pickpocket, grabbed the doctor’s stethoscope.
“Whoops.” Yancy extricated it from the small fingers. “Sorry.”
When Jax wrinkled his face, the first sign of coming tears, Molly whipped a rattle from the bag, handed it to him, and once again they had a smiling baby.
The doctor measured and weighed Jax. “He’s on the upper end of the chart for his age. You’re doing a great job.”
“That’s a relief.” Brant ran a hand over his head. “Jax has had a lot of upheaval lately, and I’ve never taken care of a baby, so it’s been touch and go. We started out at Annabelle’s, then moved to a small rental. Now, well, we’re moving again.”
“Lem Gilmore’s old place?”
Brant’s mouth dropped open.
Brant frowned. If Yancy knew that, why didn’t he know he and Molly weren’t married? Had the good doctor been fishing? Was he thinking about putting the moves on Molly? That teeny-tiny green monster raised its head and gave a not-so-quiet roar.
“Any problems at feeding time?”
“None,” Brant said, “except that it seems to be a twenty-four-hour event.”
The doctor grinned. “Give him more protein.”
Handing the baby to Brant, Dr. Yancy said, “Time for the more unpleasant part of today’s program. This one needs his DTP and PCV inoculations. The nurse will be in to take care of that and go over follow-up care.”
“Inoculations?” Brant’s eyes grew wild. “You mean shots?”
The doctor nodded, shook their hands, and walked out, his white lab coat swinging behind him.
The nurse, a big smile on her face and two syringes in hand, slipped in before the door had even closed.
“Who wants to hold him while we do this?”
Brant went paper-white.
* * *
On the way home, Molly laced her fingers in her lap. Her chest hurt, and she couldn’t breathe. Too close. She’d gotten too close, too emotionally invested.
She had to take a step back. Had to protect herself.
“Brant.”
He glanced at her, then sent her a second, longer look. “What’s wrong?”
She wet her lips.
“Molly?”
“I need to ask a favor.”
“Anything.”
“I need some time. To myself.” She hesitated. “Time away from you.”
“What?”
“I need—”
“I heard you. I thought you enjoyed yourself at my folks’.”
“I love your family. This isn’t about them.”
“Then what is it about?”
He looked so hurt, so bewildered, she almost backed down. Almost. “I need to get my head straight.”
“Have I done something? Are you mad?”
“No.”
His jaw dropped. “Are you dumping me?”
“Am I—No!”
“Sure feels like it.”
Her chest grew tighter, and she felt light-headed. “This isn’t about you, Brant. It’s about me. I need some time to think.”
“To think.”
“Yes.”
“Will you ever be ready to take that next step, Molly? To trust a man? You need to stop thinking so much. You analyze everything, pick it to death. Stop peeking in corners for monsters that aren’t there.”
He pulled to the curb in front of her shop, walked to the back, and lifted her suitcase from the trunk. “There you go. While you’re doing all that thinking, remember this. I’m not your father. Nor am I just another guy trying to sweet-talk you. I’m the guy who loves you.”
Without another word, without giving her time to say anything, he got in his car and drove away.
He loves me? He loves me?
Earlier, she’d wondered why she should expect Brant to be any different from the other men in her life. Maybe this was that difference. He loved her.
She’d never been more confused in her life.