Hometown Valentine. Lissa Manley
She turned her attention to Peyton. “She sounds like she doesn’t feel very well.”
“No, she doesn’t.” As he spoke, he shifted Peyton so she was lying down in his arms. Without missing a beat, he started the swing, swing, swing technique Lily had shown him a couple of days ago.
“Look at you,” she said, putting her purse on the couch that sat just to the left of the front door. “You’re a pro.”
He gave her a tired look edged in desperation. “Not really. I swung her like this all night long, and she still didn’t sleep much.” He yawned. “And neither did I.”
Lily held her hands up. “You want me to try?”
“Definitely,” he said, coming closer. “Here you go.”
He bent down slightly so the baby was at Lily’s level, and a whiff of his woodsy, masculine-smelling aftershave wafted through the air, right to her nose. It was all she could do to hold out her hands steadily as he transferred Peyton to her.
His arms touched Lily’s and she felt her knees tremble and her tummy somersaulted. She steeled herself and took the baby, keeping her in a prone position, trying to ignore Blake, which was about as easy as trying to ignore breathing.
“I’ve got her,” Lily managed, but her voice came out breathily. She zeroed in on Peyton’s red face, and then as soon as was practically possible Lily scooted away into the safety zone.
Able to breathe again, Lily started the swing, concentrating on Peyton rather than her wonderful-smelling uncle. She walked over to the big picture window that looked out over the front yard and did her baby calming there, moving in a small circle.
Hold the baby close. Swing, swing, swing.
Ignore the attractive man across the room.
Rinse. Repeat.
After a few circles, Peyton’s cries quieted. Lily kept it up and added a little extra flare at the end of each swing to further soothe Peyton. Her brother Liam always liked that motion.
From the corner of her eye, Lily saw Blake watching her intently, his hands on his hips. She tried to ignore him, but that proved impossible. Suddenly self-conscious, she went against her instincts and met his gaze.
His blue eyes grabbed on to her gaze.
“What are you doing?” she said in a loud whisper.
“I’m watching.”
She froze and a tingle ran up her spine. “Watching?”
“Your technique,” he said quietly. “Clearly you have some kind of magic way of soothing her. I’m watching and learning.”
“Oh. Of course.” She swallowed. So he was learning. It still unnerved her to have his gaze glued to her. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
He ran a hand over his face. “I hope so. This no-sleeping thing is going to catch up with me any day now.” Blinking, he shook his head. “Maybe it already has.”
“Good thing you have an unlimited supply of caffeine waiting for you at work,” Lily said, looking for levity. Anything to counterbalance the off-balance way his scrutiny made her feel.
He smiled. “Yeah, I never thought of that.”
“Well, there you go.” She looked down at Peyton. “She’s almost asleep. Where do you want her?”
He crooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Follow me.”
He headed down the hall to the right and Lily followed, keeping her steps fluid and smooth in the interest of keeping Peyton asleep. They passed two bedrooms and then, at the end of the hall, he went into the third one.
Lily stepped into the room. Gray morning light spilled in from the large window on the wall directly across from the door. The walls were plain white and devoid of any decorations. An oak crib with pink bumpers sat against one wall and there was a changing table nearby and a matching dresser, too, upon which sat a baby monitor. A bentwood rocker graced the near corner of the room. Two baskets of neatly folded laundry sat in front of the closet.
Blake went to the crib and pulled the fuzzy pink blankets back, looking Lily’s way. She got the message and moved in and gingerly lifted Peyton into the crib and laid her down on her back. As Lily withdrew her arms, she held her breath in hopes the baby would sleep on even though she wasn’t held snugly in Lily’s arms.
After a moment, Peyton let out a little whimper, stiffening and flailing a little hand in the air. Lily froze and she saw Blake do the same. But then the baby settled, and finally she slept, her little bow mouth working as she drifted off.
Lily looked at Blake, nodding. She mouthed, “She’s asleep.”
He nodded, then pointed to the door.
Lily turned and tiptoed out.
Blake followed, pulling the door closed behind him but leaving it ajar, pointing down the hall, indicating Lily should go back into the living room.
She headed to the other end of the house, mentally ticking off a checklist that had been forming in her head ever since she’d agreed to be Peyton’s nanny. Get fussy baby to sleep—check. Now, if she could simply meet and defeat the challenge of keeping her interest in Blake strictly professional, she’d be cool.
When she reached the living room, she turned, intending to ask Blake about Peyton’s meal schedule.
Before she could speak, Blake bowed with a flourish. “I bow down to you, oh wise and wonderful baby whisperer.” He straightened. “Please, share your secrets with me, the lowly man who’s deprived of sleep.”
She smiled, liking this playful side of him. Unable to resist his bantering, she held her hand up, palm out. “Please, please. Save your applause for later.”
He cocked his head at an angle. “Oh, so you think I’m joking?”
She blinked. “Aren’t you?”
“Not even close,” he said. “I thought it was a fluke when you managed to get her to sleep at The Cabana the other day. But now?” He shook his head. “You seem to have some kind of charmed way of getting Miss Fussypants to sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you stressed out?”
He frowned.
“Just bear with me,” she said. “Are you stressed out?”
“Yeah, I am,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “I’ve got a business to run and a sick baby to take care of.”
“So you’re understandably tense. I get it. You have every right to be that way.” She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The thing is, babies can sense tension, and from my experience with my brothers and sisters, they tend to feed on it.”
“So I’m passing my tenseness on to Peyton?”
“To some extent, yes.”
His face fell.
“Not on purpose, of course,” she quickly said. “But my point is this. If you relax, she’ll relax.”
“I don’t even know what relaxing is these days,” he said with a grimace. “I just run from one crisis to another.”
His life sounded insanely chaotic. No wonder he and Peyton weren’t getting any rest. He was overwhelmed.
He looked at his watch, punctuating her thoughts about how busy he was. “Oh, wow, it’s getting late. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and I’ll go over things.”
“Good idea.”
He turned and headed through a doorway that, presumably, led to the kitchen.
Lily followed, curious to see the rest of the house.
She