The 15 Lb. Matchmaker. Jill Limber
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.”
What was wrong with her? She should have realized a man who worked outside all day would need more than a salad for dinner. She pushed a basket of bread toward him.
At least he was talking. If they had to start with food, that was fine with her. “What kind of food do you like for dinner?”
He thought for a minute. “Steak. The chest freezer in the mudroom is full.”
Of course he would like beef. He grew them, didn’t he? She hadn’t looked in the chest freezer that took up half of one wall.
The top of the appliance was piled with newspapers and bags of empty beer cans. Her hands had been full with Riley and she hadn’t taken the time to clear it off so she could check inside. She had discovered the ice-incrusted package of chicken breasts in the freezer section of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
“We need to talk about Riley.” Jolie laid her fork on her plate.
He glanced down at the baby, who stared back at him. “What about him?”
Jolie started with something small and worked her way up. “He doesn’t have any toys.”
Griff shrugged. “Isn’t he too young for toys?”
“Not at all. He needs things to help develop his hand-eye coordination.”
He frowned and threw her a skeptical look, then shrugged.
Jolie groped around for something else to say to keep him talking to her. “And he has very few clothes.”
His features tightened up. “Can you drive a stick shift?”
“Yes.” She noted the change in his expression and wondered if money was a problem for him.
She’d gladly charge everything the baby needed, but the only thing her credit cards were good for now was scraping gum off the bottom of her shoe.
He waved his hand. “Take the truck and get what he needs.”
Embarrassed to ask, she saw no alternative. “I’ll need money.”
He rolled on his hip and worked his wallet out of a back pocket, pulled out a handful of bills and put the money in the middle of the table.
“What about a baby’s car seat? Do you have one of those?” There hadn’t been one in the truck he had driven last night.
Jolie watched Griff’s features tighten up even more as he shook his head.
Getting answers out of him was a painful process. What did he do, lay the baby on the seat of that big truck of his? She felt a spurt of anger at his disregard for his son’s safety.
He pushed his chair back, and she grabbed his arm to stay him, feeling the hard, warm muscle under the fabric of his shirt. “There’s more I need to say before you leave again.”
She had waited all day to talk to him, and she didn’t have time to put this off.
He looked down at her hand clutching his arm and she felt the hard muscle under her fingers tense. “Hurry up and get it over with. I’ve got work to do.”
Jolie dropped her hand, sorry that she had touched him like that. He obviously didn’t like it.
“I’m worried about Riley.”
Griff looked quickly at the baby, then back at Jolie. “He looks fine to me. Is he sick?”
Jolie took a deep breath. No parent wanted to hear that something might be wrong with their child. She chose her words carefully.
“No. Physically he appears to be fine. But you must have noticed that he doesn’t crawl or reach for things.”
Griff sat very still, studying fingers splayed on his knees. What was he looking for, bamboo strips under his fingernails? she thought sourly. He acted as if he was being tortured.