Allison Leigh - Yuletide Baby Bargain

“My grandmother did love Christmas,” Linc agreed. “I also think she was trying to make up for what Jax and I didn’t have at home.”

Maddie slid him a glance, surprised by the personal admission. “I must have been in junior high before I realized that you and Jax didn’t actually live here all the time with her.”

“Would have been easier if we had.” He rested his forearms on the island and slowly rotated the water bottle with his long, blunt-edged fingertips. “She always dragged us to church when we stayed here.” His hazel gaze drifted her way. “Could have done without being forced into a necktie for that.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Jax always complained about having to wear a tie, too.”

“Only good thing about going was knowing that Ernestine’s pew was across the aisle from your folks’ pew. Could watch the lot of you crammed between Meredith and Carter, wriggling and whispering and wanting to be anywhere else just as bad as me and Jax.”

For some reason, his observation unnerved her. “Church wasn’t so bad.” She still went most every week, after all. The church pew that his grandmother had always occupied was typically filled now by the mayor and his family.

She turned so that Linc would be able to see Layla’s face. “Is she still awake?”

“Her eyes are closed. Looks asleep to me.”

“Success.” She carefully slid off the barstool. “And back to bed for everyone.” She started to leave the room, but Linc didn’t make any move to follow. “G’night.”

“Night, Maddie.”

A shiver danced down her spine.

She blamed it on a draft and quickly left the kitchen.

Even when she’d reached the top of the stairs, the light was still on in the kitchen.

For all she knew, he was often awake at two in the morning.

Which didn’t matter to her one bit. Because she couldn’t stand him, after all.

She padded silently down the hall and back into the nursery. Moving at a snail’s pace lest Layla awaken, she gingerly lowered the baby back into the crib. And then she didn’t breathe for what seemed another few minutes while she waited for Layla to stir.

When the baby just continued lying there, breathing softly, arms raised next to her head, fingers lightly curled into fists, Maddie finally exhaled. She leaned over the edge of the crib and gently covered Layla with the woven throw.

“Shoot for daylight next time,” she whispered, before straightening and crossing to the closet to turn off the light.

Then she returned to her bedroom. There, she stretched out on the bed once more and pulled the blanket across herself.

As tired as she was, though, all she did was stare into the dark.

Not thinking about her old friend Jax, and where he might be, or when he might return. And whether or not he really was Layla’s father.

No. All she could think about was Linc.

And that dang shiver she’d felt when he’d said her name.

* * *

Both the females under his roof were still sleeping.

Linc finished silently closing the wooden blinds hanging in the window of the nursery. When the morning light was no longer shining through, he crossed the room, hesitating at the doorway into the adjoining room, even though he’d been determined not to.

He’d already glanced through the opening once.

Just long enough to see Maddie’s long dark hair strewn across a white pillow.

An image that was going to be hell on him until he could banish it from his memory.

If he could banish it.

It didn’t even matter that beneath the blanket, Maddie was fully dressed. The sight was still more tempting than any he’d seen in too long a time.

And, if she woke up and turned over, seeing him standing in the doorway leering at her, she’d grab up Layla and be out of there in a flash.

It was only that very real possibility that finally made him move away and leave the nursery altogether.

He didn’t return to his own suite at the far end of the hall. He’d already showered and dressed for the day. He’d done it in record time, half expecting to hear Layla wailing at any moment.

But all had been peaceful in the nursery.

It was just inside his own head that everything was turbulent.

He usually spent most of his time at the office, even on the weekends. Swift Oil hadn’t been the three-man operation Gus Swift had founded for a very long time. The company Linc had been entrusted with was now one of the major employers in the state. Certainly the major employer in Braden. The only company in the region rivaling his in terms of employment was Cee-Vid, located in Weaver. But not even Cee-Vid had the history of Swift Oil. The tech company hadn’t been so much as a glimmer of thought when Gus Swift had first started out wildcatting with his father in the early 1900s.

When Linc wasn’t working at the office, he was out working in the field. There was always something that needed doing, and when there wasn’t, it meant there was something that needed undoing.

Something almost always caused by his and Jax’s father, Blake. Blake, who was either diving into yet another inappropriate relationship, or planning another scheme guaranteed to cause Linc’s ulcer to flare.

But that morning, the last thing on Linc’s mind was the company. For the moment, anyway, Swift Oil was safe enough.

So instead of heading there, he went downstairs and into his home office. He’d plugged in his brother’s dead cell phone the night before and when he picked it up and turned it on, he was rewarded by the familiar buzz that he got from his own phone.

But that was as far as he could go.

Because he didn’t know his brother’s password.

Knowing Jax, it could be anything from the name of his first girlfriend to the stock number of his favorite beer.

He sat down behind his desk, studying the cell phone screen. It bore a picture of a sailboat with a leggy blonde sunbathing on its deck.

Linc didn’t know if the photo was some stock thing or from one of Jax’s frequent escapades. For all Linc knew, the blonde could be Layla’s mother. Though, admittedly, she didn’t look to be in the family way. Even in the small picture, the minuscule bikini left nothing to the imagination.

He drummed the side of the phone a few times with his thumb. Then he abruptly swiped the screen and typed in “Maddie.”

“Incorrect Password” flashed back at him before the sailboat returned to view.

He almost wished the attempt had been correct. He figured he could deal with his brother still carrying a torch for his high school girlfriend if it meant that Linc gained access to whatever secrets the phone might hold about Jax’s present whereabouts. It wasn’t as if Maddie was still likely to fall for Jax’s charms. She was an adult now. Not a teenager who’d been too pretty, too softhearted and way too innocent for her own good.

Once upon a time he’d thought the same of Dana. And look where that had ended.

He quickly typed in “Dana.”

The sailboat remained.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

It ought to be too early for a headache.

“Linc?”

He dropped his hand and looked over to see Maddie standing barefoot in the doorway. Her hair was messy around her shoulders and her chocolate-colored eyes were dark and drowsy.

He couldn’t stop the heat streaking through him any more now than he’d been able to when she’d still been a teenager and too damn young for him.

And it annoyed the hell out of him.

Jax may have slept with Dana. But Linc wasn’t going to return the favor by poaching Maddie, no matter how attractive he found her. She wasn’t too young for him now, but he still considered her off-limits. Not because of Jax. But because she was a decent woman. And the last woman who’d gotten involved with the Swifts and remained decent had been his grandmother.