Nicole Foster - Sawyer's Special Delivery

And Val knew she’d just had a baby. Surely she wouldn’t imagine Maya being up to much more than heavy napping. Although the slightly amused smile on Val’s face coupled with Sawyer’s obvious discomfort made Maya squirm.

“What’s all this?” she asked quickly. “Here, let me help.”

“Hands off,” Val said. “You don’t need to be lifting anything heavy. It’s just a few basics to help you set up housekeeping.” She stopped and looked around. “Madre de Dios, this is worse than I imagined. I don’t even want to see the bathroom.”

Sawyer shifted the bags in his arms. “Good, I have an ally.”

“Val, don’t you need to put those down? In the kitchen? And you,” Maya said, glaring in his direction, “let’s not have this conversation again.”

“Sure, not a problem,” he said with an infuriating smirk. “But two against one, you’re gonna lose.”

“If he’s talking about the state of this house, he’s right,” Val said. When Maya started to protest, Val held up a hand. “I’m sorry, I like your parents. I don’t understand them, but to each his own. But this is just plain bad.” Val planted her palms on her hips. “You’re coming home with me.”

Sawyer came back from setting down the groceries and stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the jamb, with every appearance of enjoying himself.

The smirk was still there but Maya decided to ignore him. Right now she had a well-meaning but misguided friend to contend with. “I know you’re only trying to help, but—” She saw the line of her friend’s jaw tighten as Val gritted her teeth.

“But nothing. You were just in a serious car accident and you have a newborn baby, a tiny premature baby, to think of. He’s fragile, Maya. If you bring him home to this…this dump, who knows what he might catch.”

Val almost succeeded in making Maya feel guilty. Almost. “You’re exaggerating just a bit, don’t you think?” She stepped closer to Val, laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I’m feeling better already. I plan to clean things up before Joey’s released from the hospital. It’ll be okay, really.”

“Feeling better?” Val rolled her eyes. “Right. That’s why you were dead asleep on the couch when I got here. I’ve had three kids honey, I know what you’re feeling like right now and better isn’t on the list.”

“See how sensible she’s being,” Sawyer said, smiling when Maya answered him with a glower.

“I just had a baby,” she said. “Of course I’m tired. But it’s not terminal. And I’m not working right now, so I have nothing but time to clean up around here.”

“Who are you trying to kid?” Val countered. “Let’s see.” She started counting off on her fingers. “You’ll be at the hospital, say, eight, ten hours a day, if I know you. Sleeping and eating will take up another ten. So I’m figuring you ought to have at least an hour, maybe two every day to make this place livable. With that schedule you should be done cleaning up about the time Joey is ready for kindergarten.”

Sawyer covered a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Maya wasn’t amused. Her patience wearing thin, she stubbornly stuck to her defense of her plan to temporarily move Joey here, even though a small part of her agreed with Sawyer and Val. Getting her parents’ house into shape was probably going to be a much bigger job than she’d bargained for.

“Look, both of you, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But this is my home—Joey’s and my home—for now. I know the pair of you would just as soon see it demolished, but believe it or not, this place has a lot of happy memories for me. And the junk has meaning to me. That hideous painting over there, for example,” she said, pointing to a large framed painting of splattered colors. “I painted that for Shem when I was in the third grade. When he framed it and hung it on the wall right smack in the middle of the living room, I felt like a real artist. It might not look like much around here, but it’s all we have and we will make do.”

Val glanced at the picture, then at Maya. She shook her head, smiling a little. “You always were stubborn, girl. And you know you have me, too, mi amiga.”

“And me,” Sawyer said before realizing exactly what he was saying. Both women turned to stare at him—Val with speculation, Maya as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. What the hell, it was too late to back down now. “I already told you I’ll help you get this place in shape for Joey. And I’m sure you can count on Val and Paul, too.”

What he really wanted to say was he’d help her out of here as soon as possible and find her a place that didn’t reek, wasn’t a fire trap and didn’t have an open invite to any vermin and vagabonds in the neighborhood.

Like my house he thought and then immediately squashed that idea. Get a grip, Morente. He’d had no business suggesting that in the first place and no business even thinking it now. Man, do I need a good night’s sleep.

“Absolutely,” Val said. “We’re all here for you 24-7.”

“Thank you, I know that.” Maya smiled at Val and avoided looking at Sawyer. For some reason she didn’t want to consider too closely, his words stung. I’ll help you get this place in shape for Joey. Of course he wanted to do the decent thing and rescue Joey from what he considered a disaster. Not her, Joey, she thought with a pang.

In the next instant she felt ashamed at herself. How ridiculous was she, feeling disappointed because gorgeous rescue-hero Sawyer Morente was more interested in her days-old baby than in his less-than-stunning mother.

“I’m really grateful for all you’re trying to do,” she told Val. “But we have to find our own way from the start. Actually it’s probably better that Shem and Azure aren’t here. They’d only try to tell me how I should be nurturing Joey’s spirit and trying to read his aura and chart his stars.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Then they’d just mess the place up even worse by throwing me a big congratulations party.”

“All the more reason to get out of here before they come back,” Sawyer muttered.

“All the more reason you should accept a little help from your friends,” Val said. “You and your little boy are going to need all the help and support you can get. It’s not going to be easy for either of you.”

Maya looked at Sawyer, and for a moment Val wasn’t in the room.

Sawyer could hear Val’s unspoken message: Raising a fatherless baby is going to be hard—for both of you.

Still looking at him as if she understood exactly, Maya said, “Joey has me and I’ll love him enough for two. He doesn’t need a father who doesn’t want him.”

From the recesses of his memory, Sawyer heard his mother saying the same thing to him. You don’t need a father who doesn’t want you.

He recalled the times, as a boy, he’d gotten into fights because kids at school had teased him about not having a father come to watch him play baseball or because he was clumsy in shop class. He’d never had a father to teach him how to use tools the way the other boys had. His mother had always chided him and reminded him that he didn’t need a father who didn’t want him.

And all his life he’d told himself the same thing. Until he’d looked into Joey’s innocent blue eyes and seen a reflection of himself. Now the idea of that little boy growing up with the same doubts and fears he’d had bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Fighting off a surge of unwelcome emotion, he abruptly turned back into the kitchen and began unloading groceries.

There was a silence and then he heard Val say, “Well, how about this? Why don’t you stay with us, just until we get this place into shape? It’ll be cozy, but we don’t mind if you don’t.”