The Baby Project. Grace Green
“In my humble opinion, the man’s a control freak. Look how he tried to run Janine’s life! Now she’s gone, he wants to run yours too. But I recall Janine saying her brother hated small towns, so I don’t imagine he’ll hang around.”
Mallory’s nerves tightened as she watched Jordan cross the street, his lean energetic frame set off to perfection in a white T-shirt and taupe shorts. His beard gave him a rakish appearance and as she took in his black hair and rugged features, she had to admit he was an eye-catching sight. But he certainly was not her type! She liked men who were kind and compassionate; strong yet tender—
“Mallory?” Elsa’s voice broke into her musings. “Are you still there?”
“Mm? Oh…yes, Elsa, but I have to go now.”
“Good luck, dear. Let me know what happens.”
Mallory put down the phone and turning from the window, she scooped up Matthew, who was on his stomach, worming his way over the carpet. Slipping his blue T-shirt into his pants, she tucked him into the crook of one arm.
“You’re the most beautiful baby in the world.” She kissed his brow and inhaled the sweet scent of his skin. “And I want you to be a good boy when you meet your uncle. I know he doesn’t want to see you, but it wouldn’t be right to let him leave town without at least saying hello. He’s a bit of an ogre. Do you think you’re up to it?”
“Goo,” he gurgled. And tried to reach her topknot.
She laughed softly and arched her head back. “Oh, you just love to get your fingers into my hair, don’t you!” As she spoke, she heard steps crunching up the drive. And her pulse quickened when she heard Jordan come into the house.
“Mallory!” His deep voice reverberated from the front hall. The voice of a drill sergeant! “Where are you?”
With a fingertip, she tidied a wisp of Matthew’s hair. “Okay, sweetie,” she whispered, “let’s get this over with.”
Bracing herself, she walked out to the hall.
Jordan Caine was standing amid her belongings, with his back to her.
“I’m here,” she said.
As he turned, he held out a long white envelope. “I want you to read this—” He broke off when he saw the baby, and his brow lowered in a dark frown. “What’s going on?”
“I know you don’t want anything to do with Matthew, but it’s not going to kill you to say hi!”
Jordan stared at the baby wriggling in her arms, the infant’s gaze glued to her topknot as he endeavoured to reach it. This was Matthew? Well, he’d really screwed up there, hadn’t he! But it surprised him to see the delectable Ms. Madison with a child. She certainly hadn’t looked pregnant at her brother’s wedding…
He recalled Janine telling him that Tom’s sister was thirty-one and single. And he recalled saying irately to Janine, when she told him that unlike him, Mallory was enthusiastic about the upcoming marriage, “Tell that dried-up old spinster to butt out of our lives!”
That was before he’d met her, of course, and when he did meet her, on the wedding day, he’d found out that far from being dried-up, she was lush as a ripe exotic fruit. But not, definitely not, his type. He felt about redheads the way he felt about small towns…and about babies!
“I know this must be upsetting for you.” Mallory’s voice was apologetic. “I’m sorry. And I know how against the marriage you were, but Janine loved you so much, and I know she’d have wanted you to love this baby too.”
“Why the heck would Janine care if I loved this kid or not? Look, read my lips. I don’t like babies. And I have no interest in this one or any other. So if you’ll just put him back in his crib or whatever, then you and I can get on with business. This—” he waggled the white envelope at her “—is a contract I’ve just signed with Burton Barton, the local realtor. I’ve put the house up for sale.”
“House? Which house?”
“This house.”
“This house?”
“Number Five Seaside Lane. It’s mine.”
She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he’d told her he’d planted a bomb in the basement. “It can’t be yours!”
He felt a pang of compunction when he saw the panic in her eyes. He ignored it. “I bought it before the wedding, when I knew you’d beaten me and that come hell or high water those two were going to tie the knot—”
“It wasn’t a case of beating you! It wasn’t a competition, to see who would win—I just wanted what was best for Tom and Janine—”
“All the arrangements were made through my lawyer,” he continued tersely. “I knew your brother had taken a job in Seashore and I knew they were having a hard time finding a rental place they could afford so I bought this house and made sure they learned it was available—and for a minimal rent, because I wanted my sister to live comfortably.”
“Did they know,” she asked, “that it was yours?”
“No.”
“You did that for them?” This secret, generous gesture put him in a new light. Mallory felt herself soften towards him. “That was so kind of you—”
“I did it for Janine,” he interrupted rudely. “I no longer have any need of the place. End of story.”
Her momentary softness dissipated in a flash. “I’ve signed a one-year lease,” she said in a defiant tone. “So you can’t evict me. At least, not till the year is up.”
“I can,” he said. “And I intend to. The moment the property changes hands, your lease becomes null and void.”
She seemed to shrink back from him. Then she shook her head and her upper lip curled. Unmistakably, contemptuously curled. “You’re quite something, Jordan Caine.”
He hadn’t known that tawny brown eyes could look so cold. “It’s business,” he said curtly. “And there’s no room for sentiment in business.”
“Tom was wrong about you. He believed that despite your overbearing attitude, you were a good man at heart. I’m glad he’s not here to see that you have no heart at all.” She clenched her jaw as she prepared to humble herself. “Can you at least let me keep the house for the summer, to give me time to look for someplace else?”
“No can do. It’s May already and Barton’s going to advertise Number Five as an ideal house for a bed-and-breakfast business, so it will be to a buyer’s advantage to move in immediately, before the start of the tourist season.”
“You’d throw me out in the street—with this baby?” She took in a deep breath and when she went on, her voice had a distinct tremor in it. “I gave up my job in Seattle so that I could work at home and be a good mother to Matthew. I’m on a very tight budget now. I’d never have been able to swing it if I hadn’t been able to factor in the low rent.”
“That’s not my problem. Before you got yourself pregnant, you should have looked to the future. Where’s the baby’s father? Doesn’t he contribute to his upkeep?”
She gaped at him as if he’d sprouted an extra head.
He stabbed the envelope at her. “It’s your responsibility and his. Not mine. What happened anyway? Did he dump you, or did—”
“You think—” she swallowed hard “—that this is my baby?”
He raised a cynical eyebrow. “If he isn’t,” he retorted, “then whose is he?”
“He’s Janine’s, of course!” She sounded as if she was spelling out something incredibly simple to a dim-witted child.
“You’re