SUSAN MEIER - One Man and a Baby

Tia walked to the refrigerator. “I made some more formula,” she said, changing the subject as she slid the bottles into the side compartment of the diaper bag. “I also went online and found a pediatrician for you. Since I was already surfing the net I read up on what and how much she’s supposed to eat and I discovered it is okay for her to be eating the rice cereal that her mother had put in the diaper bag she left with you.”

Rick smiled and nodded, glad he’d done the right thing by guessing Jen had been feeding Ruthie the cereal since a box had been packed with her things. But inside he was anything but happy. When Jen had showed up at his door with Ruthie, he’d thought she’d come back to him because she loved him. He’d foolishly thought that becoming a mother had caused her to see how right they were for each other and that it was time for them to be a family. He remembered how joy had flooded him. He had loved her with ever fiber of his being and when she had left him the year before it had damned near killed him. So, when she suddenly appeared that night, all he could think of was being grateful for a second chance.

After Jen put Ruthie to sleep, they’d made love and he had been the happiest man alive. It had never occurred to him that she was conning him, suckering him into believing everything was fine so he wouldn’t suspect that she intended to sneak out in the middle of the night. Nothing had surprised him more than when he awakened to find himself alone with the baby. Her note had actually threatened a lawsuit if he told anyone she was Ruthie’s mom. She had so casually, calculatedly left him and their baby that anything he felt for her died an instant death.

Now, all he wanted was to raise his baby in peace. As long as Jen kept Ruthie a secret and Rick kept Ruthie a secret there was no reason for her dad to find their baby and get involved. And that was exactly what Rick wanted. Privacy.

“All packed,” Tia announced, helping him hook the strap of the diaper bag on his left shoulder since Ruthie was nestled against his right. “I’ll see you in the morning. At four or so.”

He grimaced. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Hey, it’s not a problem. Drew gets up when you do, so I do, too. Besides, as I said, I need the practice.”

Rick smiled his thanks and left his sister’s house. Ten minutes later he pulled his pickup in front of the guesthouse for Seven Hills Farms. Ruthie pounded her rattle on her car seat, which he had strapped onto the backseat of his extended cab, and Rick turned around.

“Didn’t we talk about this?”

She cooed and gurgled and Rick shook his head, then shoved his way out of his truck and opened the back door that gave him access to Ruthie. She slapped his nose with her rattle.

“Didn’t Daddy tell you that you have to keep down the noise?”

She tilted her head in question, as he lifted her from the car seat. Perching her on his left arm, he reached inside to loop his fingers through the strap of the diaper bag and yanked it out.

Making his way up the steps of the small porch to the front door, he glanced around at the little Cape Cod house, thinking how perfect it was for him and Ruthie. There were two bedrooms on the second floor, so they could sleep in the same general area and he could hear her when she cried in the middle of the night. Gene had shown him a cozy green kitchen filled with appliances, a living room furnished with a comfortable overstuffed sofa and chairs and a den where he could put his computer and network into the farm’s system to do the books. Best of all, it was far enough away from the farmhouse that no one could see or hear what he did. A side road veered off Seven Hills’s main access route and brought him to the secluded guesthouse. He didn’t even have to pass the Meljac residence to get home.

That was another thing that had fallen into place with this job. Being so far away from the main house, there was no danger Ashley Meljac would discover Ruthie. It was clear from their meeting that morning that Ashley would like nothing better than to be rid of him. But he wasn’t going anywhere. Gene Meljac hadn’t precisely said that he was retiring, but he was showing all the signs. This time next month Gene could call, find everything running smoothly without him and realize he didn’t need to run the farm anymore. Then this job with the perfect house, far enough out of civilization where a man really could keep a secret, would be his.

He wasn’t letting some born-to-shop Paris Hilton wannabe run him off. Especially since he was absolutely positive that once she saw the real work of managing a farm she’d turn up her nose and hightail it to the nearest mall.

In fact, now that Rick thought about it, by this time tomorrow he intended to have proven to Princess Ashley that she didn’t really want to run a farm at all.

Rick only had to open three doors in the convoluted maze of halls in the upstairs of Gene Meljac’s sprawling home before he found Ashley’s bedroom.

He flicked a switch as he stepped inside, lighting the two lamps on her bedside tables. Those, unfortunately, illuminated a ten-foot-tall tufted white leather headboard that led to yard after yard of crinkled pink material that looped around to create a canopy. A pink rosebud bedspread covered the small lump he assumed was Ashley. At least twenty pillows of varying shapes and sizes—and shades of pink—were scattered about on the bed to cushion her every move.

He shook his head. Wow. He’d certainly pegged this one right.

“Come on, princess,” he said, grabbing the thick rosebud comforter and yanking it off.

He instantly regretted that. The sight that greeted him took his breath away, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling from Ashley’s pink-tipped toes, up her bare long legs, to the pink fur-trimmed hem of her tiny pink nightgown with some kind of top that looked like a fur-trimmed bra.

He sucked in some air. He should have left the cover on. But it was too late now.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her foot to pull her off the bed but she was so silky soft he couldn’t get a grip. His hand slid from her heel to her toe and she giggled.

“Stop that!” She nestled into her pillow. “And come back to bed.”

Rick’s mouth fell open in shock, but his libido instantly decided joining her was a fabulous idea. He nearly slapped himself for even considering it. Never in a million years would he again be interested in another woman accustomed to creature comforts. Ashley might not be so spoiled as to abandon a child in favor of trips to the Mediterranean the way Jen had, but she was obviously pampered. All he had to do was look at the multiple doors on the right-hand wall. They undoubtedly led to a closet, dressing room and private bath, most likely with a spa. This suite was bigger than any bedroom in his parents’ home. Hell, this suite was bigger than any apartment he’d lived in since he’d struck out on his own. He didn’t want anything to do with another woman who needed an entire room for her clothes.

“Get up!” he yelled, resisting the urge to smack her butt to get her moving. “You want to run the farm, fine. Then I’ll teach you to run the farm. But that means you have to get up!”

She shifted on the rosebud sheets. “What?”

“Today’s the day you start learning to run the farm, remember?”

Her eyes popped open. She bolted up in bed, saw him, glanced down at herself and screamed.

“No one’s here,” he said frantically searching the room until he found a frothy see-through pink thing that he assumed was the “cover-up” to her little pink nightie. He scooped it up and as he released it to toss it to her, the pink fur tickled his palm. His blood began to hum through his veins. Wild thoughts scampered through his brain. Luckily he was smart enough to ignore all of it.