Jill Limber - The 15 Lb. Matchmaker

She laid them down on the towel beside him. “When you’re ready, you pick them up.”

As Jolie returned to dinner preparation, the suspicion that something might be wrong emotionally with Riley tore at her heart.

She had no idea how to tell Griff that she suspected a problem. Her greatest apprehension was that Griff might not care. Could he be that detached from his own child? Or did he already suspect that something might be wrong, and he couldn’t accept a less than perfect child?

She wasn’t trained for this. She needed to take Riley to a pediatrician and get a professional opinion. Babies his age, normal babies, had only two speeds. Full tilt or sound asleep. They explored everything with insatiable curiosity.

Jolie’s hands stilled and she realized she had slipped back into her old way of thinking. There were things she could do, if she had the courage.

For instance, there were no toys in the house, no bright mobiles or wall hangings in his room to catch Riley’s interest.

When she stayed with her cousin’s children, sometimes it took an hour for her and the nanny to pick up their toys and games, even when the maid pitched in.

Perhaps Riley’s problem was a lack of stimulation in his environment. Most children formed an attachment to a special blanket or stuffed toy they had dragged around everywhere they went. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t have anything.

The only time she got any reaction from Riley was when she picked him up. Then he clung to her like a limpet on a rock at the shoreline. The feel of his little hands grabbing her almost broke her heart.

The back door slammed and Griff came into the kitchen through the mudroom.

Riley watched Griff come in, but showed no reaction.

At the other extreme, her pulse leaped at the sight of him. Annoyed at the purely physical reaction the man evoked in her, she smacked the metal bowl down on the counter harder than she had intended.

He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in question. Then his eyes slid slowly over her apron, eyeing her as if she were wearing a lacy item from Victoria’s Secret instead of the ancient faded smock she’d found in a drawer.

Every nerve ending in her body seemed to tingle.

Flustered by his perusal and her reaction, she met his gaze. Courage, she thought, have courage.

She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her.

Her ex-fiancé used to do that to get her off a subject he didn’t care to pursue. But Charles had never been able to derail her with just a look.

Jolie shivered. Those blue eyes of his made her stomach do little flip-flops.

“Evening.” He held her eye for another disarming moment, then glanced down briefly at Riley before turning to the sink. He didn’t speak to his son.

“Good evening.” She kept her tone light and tried to keep her mind on the discussion she intended to have with him during dinner.

He had on a denim shirt that pulled across his shoulders as he reached to turn on the water. The color made his blue eyes even bluer. Deeply tanned skin made his hair looked gilded in the bright kitchen light.

In spite of how good he looked, Jolie didn’t miss the fact that lines of fatigue, so apparent yesterday, had deepened around his eyes and mouth.

Jolie watched the baby as Griff finished washing up. Riley displayed only a simple curiosity at the new person who had entered his presence. No smiles or squeals of happiness at seeing a familiar face, no anticipation of attention.

Griff had shown no interest in the child beyond a cursory glance.

They acted as if they were strangers.

Jolie felt a moment of panic. She wasn’t qualified to deal with this situation. How could she get Griff and Riley together?

Courage, she told herself sternly, you live with courage. You may not have the training for this, but you’re all they have to save them.

When she had vowed to have courage and do something outrageous every day, she had never considered taking on something as complicated as repairing the damaged relationship between a man and his son.

She had thought more along the lines of working up the nerve to get a tattoo in a place no one else would see.

The daunting task of fixing this parent-child relationship made the thought of decorating her hip with a small tattoo seem too trivial to think about.

But, she reminded herself, she was all this man and his son had. Jolie didn’t see Griff as the kind of person who would go looking for help.

She was pretty sure he didn’t know he needed help.

She was absolutely sure he wouldn’t want her help.

But, she told herself, you’ve dealt with your own father all these years. They didn’t come much more difficult than Richard Carleton.

The key here was for Griff to think that becoming more involved with Riley was really his idea. Jolie could be very underhanded if it meant a better life for the baby.

She plastered a smile on her mouth, turned and faced Griff as he rinsed the soap off his hands. “Dinner is almost ready.”

She didn’t miss his suspicious look.

Jolie lifted two plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

He watched her for a moment, then said, “I have to make two calls, then I’m going back out.”

Concentrating his gaze on the towel, he acted as if the task of drying his hands required his full attention.

She wasn’t going to let him get away, not now, while she was having a hard time holding on to her resolve.

Forcing herself to adopt a reasonable tone, she phrased her response as a question. “You can take time to eat, can’t you?”

He stared at her while he seemed to consider his answer. “Will it be ready in ten minutes?” he asked in a wary voice.

“Yes.” She’d make sure of it. He was trying to put distance between them and she needed to get started on him.

She only had two weeks.

“Ring the bell.” He gestured to a round metal contraption with a pull chain set high on the kitchen wall.

Then he stepped around Riley as if the baby were a piece of furniture, and left the kitchen without sparing a word for his son.

Jolie stood staring at the empty door frame, unable to believe what had just happened. He hadn’t even taken a moment to pat his son on the head.

Griff Price had to be the most aggravating person she had ever encountered. It was as if he refused to have any more human contact than was absolutely necessary.

She suspected if she suggested they work out a series of signals with the bell so that they wouldn’t have to talk to each other he’d like the idea.

How could Riley thrive in this atmosphere? She scooped the baby off the floor and gave him a fierce hug as he nestled into her arms.

“Don’t worry,” she said into his curls, “I’m not leaving until he realizes how precious you are. And what you need,” she added, hoping keeping the promise wouldn’t take more courage than she possessed.

Jolie rocked him in her arms for a few more moments and crooned silly endearments, then put him back down.

If she didn’t have dinner ready, Griff would leave and she would miss a chance to talk to him. Hurrying through the preparation, she finished up and tugged on the bell chain.

The loud clang made her jump.

What an annoying noise, she thought as she pulled out her chair and sat.

Griff slid into his chair and forked a bite off the plate of fresh greens topped by a broiled, sliced chicken breast. After a few bites he said, “This is good. What’s for dinner?”

She thought he must be kidding, but so far she hadn’t seen him display a glimpse of a sense of humor. “This is dinner.”

“Is there any more?” He looked at her with a hopeful expression.

Jolie shook her head. “No. Sorry.”