Teresa Carpenter - Baby Under The Christmas Tree

Her gaze rolled over his long, muscular frame as she carried Troy to the bed. For all his sins, the man had one fine body. The problem was he knew it, and used it. Luckily, she was immune.

She’d never been attracted to Neanderthals.

Okay, that was a lie. Sometimes she just wanted to shimmy up that hard body and sink her teeth into his lower lip.

And then he’d open his mouth and save her from herself. Thank goodness.

Plus she’d learned her lesson where he was concerned.

It killed her that she found him so attractive. Especially as she’d vowed to find a man with more going on in his life than a love of sports.

She knew people thought her a tad unyielding when it came to her stance on men and sports. They didn’t understand. Not even her own family understood. She’d had a good childhood, had been, and still was, well loved. But she’d been a girlie girl in a household of athletes.

From the stroller on, she’d been dragged from one brother’s sporting event to another, often going to two games in the same day. Sure she enjoyed a good game, but she also wanted to learn how to cook, to paint, to play the drums and go to dance class. She liked to shop and get her nails done. She longed for conversation that didn’t include a play-by-play of game highlights.

She’d spent too many years sacrificing her desires to the demand of the majority to easily surrender her future to the overwhelming call of the game.

So, no jocks for her. She wanted, she deserved, a man with varied interests, a man who enjoyed the symphony or the opera, who liked to read and go to the theater, who liked to hike and wasn’t afraid of the mall.

Finding one was the problem.

Pulling her gaze from the father, she turned back the covers and tucked the son into the bed as best she could, considering Max was on the outside of the brown comforter.

Troy looked at her with big blue eyes. “Donna?”

Her heart broke a little for the tiny fellow. She smoothed the sheet over his chest.

“Donna and Mama went bye-bye. You’re going night-night with Daddy.”

“Don’t wan’ Daddy. Wan’ Donna.”

Elle didn’t blame him. Was there anyone less qualified to raise a child than Max Beasley?

Knowing nothing of the kind, she said, “I’m sure they’ll be back soon. If you go to sleep, Mama might even be here when you wake up.”

“Night-night?”

“Yes, close your eyes and everything will be better tomorrow.” At least she hoped so. The kid deserved better from both his parents.

He nodded and closed his eyes.

Elle bit her lip. Poor little guy. Because she couldn’t help herself, she kissed him lightly on the forehead before rising to her feet. She only moved two steps before he popped up.

“You stay,” Troy demanded.

“No.” She shook her head. “Daddy’s here. I have to go home now.”

“Daddy seeping.” His eyes watered and distress tightened his features. “You stay!”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she tried to soothe him, “Daddy’s here with you. I have to go to work.”

“No. You stay.” He threw himself back on the bed and started screaming.

“Fudge sticks.” Elle hurried back to the bed. “Troy, stop that now. Daddy’s sleeping.”

The boy turned his back to her and continued to screech at the top of his lungs. Goodness. She’d heard fire trucks less shrill. Elle waited for Max to wake up, but he slept on, obviously out for the count. Unbelievable.

The kid was turning red. She panicked a little; she couldn’t just let him scream himself to sleep.

“Troy, enough. Come here.” She lifted him into her arms and rocked him gently. He weighed next to nothing but he was strong. At first he fought her, but after a few minutes he relaxed against her shoulder.

When she thought he was sleeping, she tried to put him back in the bed. He woke and frantically shook his head, clinging to her. Resigned to staying until he slept peacefully, she carried him down the hall and found his nursery. As soon as she stepped inside, he began to scream.

She immediately backed out of the room and the screaming stopped.

“Okay, that’s really getting old,” she told the boy, her nerves frazzled around the edges. “I’m doing my best here. So no more screaming.”

He patted her cheek, and she knew she was being played by a two-year-old. And then he wrapped his little arms around her neck and whispered, “I miss Donna.”

His grandmother, not his mother. Any subconscious sympathy for Amber disappeared. Her neglect of her child went way beyond these missing hours and bordered on the criminal.

The faces of her young niece and nephews rolled across her mind’s eye. She was such a softy when it came to kids she couldn’t just stand by and let Troy suffer.

Okay, all right; Elle stopped fighting her aggravation with the situation and decided to do everything she could to help Troy. If that meant working with Max, she’d do it. But from what she could see, putting Troy in Max’s care only moved him from one mostly absent parent to another mostly absent parent.

Troy deserved a happy home with people committed to his emotional and physical welfare.

Which meant Elle had some hard questions for Max. If he couldn’t give Troy what he needed, maybe they’d have to redirect their efforts.

Determined to get the kid settled, she made her way to a guest room and lay down with him.

He immediately slipped from the bed and pulled on her hand. “Daddy.”

Now he wanted Daddy? Feeling a bit like a yo-yo she allowed him to drag her back to the master suite, where she eyed Max with evil intent. Wake up and take care of your kid already.

Digging deep for patience and channeling her new resolve, she tucked Troy back into bed beside his father and sat on the edge of the mattress, prepared to wait until the boy fell asleep.

He smiled at her and pushed the blanket aside. “Night-night.”

He wanted her to lie down? With him and The Beast? So not a good idea. But she was exhausted and a glance at the clock on the nightstand told her this was her only chance of getting any more rest before work. She set her cell alarm for forty minutes and stretched out on the very edge of the bed.

Troy scooted close and within minutes his little body went lax in sleep. Elle considered leaving, but couldn’t get her eyes to open. The corner of her mouth twitched. The kid had gotten her into bed on their first meeting.

And she was in bed with The Beast. Nobody could ever know. Least of all Max.

It was her last thought before she drifted away.

* * *

A kick to the gut woke Max. Instantly alert, he powered up onto his arms and flipped over, ready to fight. A hard lesson learned from his time on the streets.

But it was only Troy turned sideways in the bed and reaching for more territory. That didn’t surprise him as the memory of last night flooded in.

Now, seeing the ever-efficient Ms. Austin also sharing his bed, that caused a brow to rise. And other body parts, too.

Long and lush with a waterfall of vibrant red hair, the woman made him want. Too bad she had the personality of a piranha.

Had he imagined her in his bed? Hell yeah. Had almost gotten her there last year at the Gala before he came to his senses. He’d love getting tangled up in those long, pretty legs, but getting entangled in a relationship? That was a no-go. And she had picket fence written all over her.

The idea of a street rat like him with Daddy’s little princess was ludicrous. The sex might be great but he had nothing more to offer her. Money and fame didn’t keep a couple together; he’d seen that often enough in the league. Seriously, what would they talk about?

What the hell? Since when did he worry about conversation with a woman? Never.