Kitabı oku: «Uncle Sarge», sayfa 4

Chapter Four

Jennifer switched the phone from one ear to the other as she listened to Rich’s panicked request. For one brief moment, she’d thought he was asking her for a date, but her fluttering heart skidded to a halt when she heard the unmistakable sound of a child crying in the background.

“Okay,” she said, tempering her disappointment. It was probably better this way anyway, she convinced herself. And her curiosity was running at full throttle. “Why don’t you tell me just what’s going on.”

She was on the living room phone, tethered by an eight-foot wire, and she needed to be in the kitchen. The spaghetti was past done, and if it didn’t get drained soon, all she’d have was mush. She stretched as far as the cord would allow her and turned off the stove and listened.

Rebecca Tucker had stuck Rich with Sherry’s kids. The woman had to be truly desperate if she was entrusting them to him. The man might be able to hack his way through a jungle with one hand tied behind him, but she’d bet he was clueless when it came to child care. Another wailing voice followed the first one.

She would definitely win that bet.

“Tell you what,” she finally said when Rich had finished his desperate explanation. The guy had to be at the end of his rope if he’d actually admitted that he needed her. Even if it was just to help with his niece and nephew. “I don’t have that much experience with kids, and I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I just got finished cooking up a batch of spaghetti sauce. I’ll bring it over. Once we get the kids settled, we can eat.” If they got the kids settled, she didn’t say. Of course, that meant that the noodles she’d already cooked were toast, but that couldn’t be helped. She had plenty more to cook later.

Jennifer could almost feel Rich’s relief coming through the phone wires. She wanted to think it was because she was coming, not to help with the kids, not to bring the food, but for herself. But she was realistic enough to know that wasn’t the case. Besides, she’d already learned her lesson about that kind of man. She didn’t need that.

Rich needed a woman to help with the kids. Period. Any woman who’d passed Child Care 101 would do.

Her experience with kids was limited, at best. She didn’t have many friends with children, and her siblings hadn’t started having theirs when she’d married and moved away. She wasn’t sure how much help she’d be, but she’d give it her best effort.

“Jennifer?”

She hadn’t realized that she’d been woolgathering and found herself blushing even though she was alone in the room. “Yes, sorry. I was thinking about the logistics of getting this stuff over to you,” she said. “I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

“Great! You don’t know how glad I am to hear that. I’ll be waiting.”

Probably watching at the window, Jennifer thought. Too bad the cavalry wasn’t going to be that much help. “Just one thing, Rich. Go ahead and let Caitlyn call her mother. I’m sure that will be the best thing for everybody.”

Rich mumbled something about not knowing what the number was, but Jennifer didn’t respond. She just hung up. She wasn’t sure why she’d just agreed to do this. She just knew she had to.

For the kids, she told herself.

She almost believed it.

FEELING SOMEWHAT relieved, Rich hung up. Jennifer was coming. Finally, an expert in the house. If he could only survive till she got here. Half an hour. He could do it.

He hoped.

In the meantime, he had to find the number so Caitlyn could call Sherry. She should have known that he wouldn’t make a satisfactory mom substitute, even if Rebecca didn’t. Hell, he didn’t even know that diaper thing.

He looked at Caitlyn, her pixie face puffy and wet with tears. She looked back, her eyes wide and questioning. For the moment, she wasn’t wailing, but her small body shuddered violently with residual sobs.

Rich took a deep breath.

“Caitlyn, did your Aunt Becky leave me any phone numbers in all that stuff?” He gestured toward the mountain of kiddie gear he’d yet to explore.

“Inna diaper bag,” she said, then wiped her nose with the back of her arm. “Mommy always puts a piece a paper inna diaper bag in case of a ’mergency.”

Rich exhaled and headed for the bag. He just hoped that Rebecca did the same thing. She wasn’t a mother, so she might not know.

That stopped him. Jennifer wasn’t a mother either. What if she didn’t know anymore about what to do with the kids than he did?

No, he wasn’t going to think that.

Even if she didn’t have real mother experience, surely mothering was a woman thing. Didn’t they have instincts? Wasn’t child care know-how part of the package?

He found a sheet of folded paper, with neat printing on it, tucked into a pocket on the outside of the diaper bag. The numbers.

Damn, it had every number imaginable on it. From Sherry’s to Rebecca’s home number—where Rebecca wouldn’t even be—to the pediatrician and poison control. Poison control? What did she think he was going to do with the kids, feed them tranquilizers?

Then he looked at Caitlyn, still sniffling, and glanced at Carter, whining in the tiny crib. It was tempting, but he did know better than that.

“Okay, Short Stuff, let’s go call your mom.”

“’Kay,” Caitlyn said, still gulping back an occasional sob. She edged closer to him as he reached for the phone and dialed.

Rich held his breath while the circuits connected and the phone started to ring. What if she wasn’t there? Two rings. What if something had happened? Three rings. What would Caitlyn do if Sherry didn’t answer?

She did, and Rich exhaled with relief.

“Hey, Sis. There’s a little girl who needs to speak to you.” He listened while Caitlyn held out her hand for the receiver. “Yeah, they’re fine. Everything’s under control,” he lied. “Yeah, Caitlyn really wants to talk to you. Here she is.” He handed the phone to Caitlyn and hoped she wouldn’t squeal on him.

He was doing the best he could under the circumstances. And, besides, Rebecca had no business dumping them on him without, at least, some warning. Then he glanced at Caitlyn’s little face, her eyes bright and shining as she spoke to her mother, and his heart swelled with emotion. No, he was glad he could help. And Sherry would surely make allowances for his lack of experience.

Surely, she understood that Rich was a rank amateur in all this. Even if Caitlyn didn’t.

WHEN JENNIFER reached Rich’s apartment complex, she stopped to consider what she was getting herself into. She hardly knew Rich Larsen. In fact, prior to this moment, all they’d had was a business arrangement. Should she be here at all?

She thought of the two small children caught in the middle of it all and decided that she wasn’t doing this for Rich. She was doing it for them. If Rich hadn’t sounded so desperate, she surely would have told him to take a long walk off a short pier.

Or would she?

Jennifer stared up at the second floor of the building that Rich’s apartment was on and wondered what kind of place it was. Was it one of those ultra-messy bachelor pads? A passion pit waiting for the next victim? What was she getting herself into?

Then she reminded herself of the kids. They would be there. They were the reason. It had nothing to do with Rich. She reached for the grocery sack containing the fixings for a spaghetti dinner, then stopped. Why was she even thinking about him?

No sense even thinking about anything more than baby-sitting, Bishop, she told herself as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. There were going to be two pint-size chaperons in attendance.

In spite of all her arguments against getting involved with another combat controller, she wasn’t sure a family evening was what she really wanted.

Mentally chastising herself, Jennifer shifted the bag of groceries in her arms. Her hands were sweaty and her heart pounded. So much for appearing cool and confident, she thought as she raised her hand to knock.

What happened next would be up to Rich.

And the kids, she reminded herself.

RICH HAD NEVER been so glad to hear the doorbell ring in all his life. It had to be Jennifer. He hadn’t ordered a pizza, and they weren’t making enough noise for the downstairs neighbors to be complaining.

He hoped.

Caitlyn had settled down some after talking to Sherry, but it was obvious that she was in no frame of mind to sleep. And Carter had woken up, too, right after Rich had managed to clean up most of the baby’s supper mess.

Rich successfully maneuvered another diaper off and a fresh one on, but the baby didn’t seem the least bit inclined to sleep. How did mothers do it?

Carter seemed happiest—translation, quietest—when Rich held him, so hold him he did. He shifted Carter in his arms and went to let in the reinforcements.

He flung the door open wide and thanked his lucky stars that it really was Jennifer who’d rung. She stood there in the open doorway, her long hair restrained with a blue ribbon that complemented the print of her summer dress. She looked like a guardian angel come to his rescue.

Her arms were laden with a brown sack that emitted an aroma that had his mouth watering and his stomach clamoring for a taste. Rich swallowed and beckoned her in.

“Hi,” he said. “I’d offer to take your bag, but as you can see, my hands are full.”

She just stood there and stared.

“Jennifer?”

Jennifer blinked and tried to force her eyes back into her head. She had been totally unprepared for the sight in front of her: Rich Larsen, bare-chested, wearing camouflage BDU pants, and holding a baby.

Her breath caught in her throat. The vision was so sweet she almost wanted to weep. That innocent little boy with a halo of red peach fuzz snuggled against that hard, wide, bare chest. The baby’s eyes were half closed, and he sucked on one finger.

This was, by far, one of the most tantalizing, sexy sights she could ever have imagined. Any mother seeing that, would have to fall even deeper in love with her child’s father. Jennifer swallowed, moistened her lips and swallowed again. “What happened to your shirt?” she finally managed.

Rich looked down at his bare chest, and Jennifer could have sworn he was blushing. “Oh,” he said. “Carter thought it was fun to spray his dinner everywhere. I swear, he got more stuff on me and the walls than went in him. I took my shirt off to put in the wash, but I never made it to the bedroom for a clean one.”

Bedroom was not the right thing to say, Jennifer thought as she nodded her understanding. How could she be lusting after the man as if he were Mr. September in a hunk-of-the-month calendar? She just didn’t do stuff like that.

She shook herself out of her wandering thoughts. “If you’ll tell me where to put this…” She indicated the grocery sack. “I’ll put it away, then take the baby. So you can get a shirt on,” she added pointedly.

“Kitchen’s over there.” Rich inclined his head toward an archway on the far side of the room.

Jennifer entered the kitchen expecting to find a disaster area of the first degree, but the room was surprisingly orderly. There was a pile of soggy towels in the corner, but other than that, it appeared reasonably clean. Apparently, he’d found some time to tidy up.

She set the bag on the counter, removed the salad fixings and a bottle of wine and stashed them in the fridge.

Maybe the wine was a little optimistic, she couldn’t help thinking when she considered that the baby was still awake and there was no sign of the little girl. But she had planned to have a glass with her meal when she thought she would be eating it alone. Why not share it?

“Whatcha doin’?” a tiny voice asked.

Jennifer spun around to find a redheaded sprite gazing, wide-eyed, at her. She hastily stashed the wine in the refrigerator and turned back to the child. “Hello,” she said, much too brightly. Gee, she thought, you’d think the girl had caught her trying to abscond with the family silver. “I’m just putting away some stuff for supper.”

“I already had a sammich. My name’s Caitlyn,” the pixie said without missing a beat.

“My name is Jennifer. I’m a friend of your uncle.”

Caitlyn looked puzzled as if she didn’t understand. “Uncle Witch is new,” she said gravely. “My daddy went to heaven, so now I gots a new uncle.”

Jennifer didn’t know how to respond to that. Did the child really believe that Rich had been sent as a daddy substitute? She looked down at the tiny girl, and decided it wasn’t such a bad thing for a little girl to believe. If it gave her comfort, why not? “How do you like your new uncle?” she asked for lack of anything else to say.

“He’s okay. But he isn’t my daddy.”

Wow! How did she respond to that?

“Jen’fer.”

“Yes?” She had to get it together. Didn’t kids need constant attention?

“Are you getting married wif my Uncle Witch?”

That one hit her like a speeding bus. Jennifer’s head spun as the thought bounced around like it had a life of its own. But, no. She’d already tried life married to a man’s man. It wasn’t for her.

She shook her head. “No, sweetie, I’m just a friend.”

“Oh. Aunt Rebecca’s getting married tomorrow.”

It sounded so simple when Caitlyn put it that way, but was it simple? Already, she could see it was not.

Jennifer turned away from the counter. The best thing she could do now was to help Rich settle the kids. Then she’d worry about what came next.

IT WAS SURPRISING how easy it was to settle two kids when two people were doing the settling. Rich stood outside his bedroom door and watched as Jennifer tucked Caitlyn in. Carter had already settled down to sleep with the comfort of his thumb, and Rich had high hopes that he’d stay down for the count.

It was only about eight-thirty but it seemed like midnight. If this was the way things were all the time, he had greatly underestimated the amount of work that mothers put in every day. And once she was back on her feet, Sherry would have to do it alone.

He thought about the brother-in-law he’d never met and wondered if he’d helped, or had he been one of those hands-off dads like his father had been? Rich hoped not. Then he shrugged. It didn’t matter. The man was gone. Nothing would change that. And if he had been hands off, at least, Sherry would be used to doing it all.

Jennifer tiptoed out of the bedroom and switched off the overhead light. Caitlyn murmured something about being afraid of the dark, but Jennifer reassured her. “It’s all right, sweetie. We’ll leave the door open and the light from the living room will shine in. Uncle Rich and I will be in the next room.”

That must have satisfied her, because Caitlyn snuggled in and made no further protests.

Jennifer put a finger to her lips. “Come on. Let’s let them settle down. The last thing we want to do is wake them up again.”

“Roger that,” Rich agreed as he stepped away from the door. He felt something in his stomach. A tightness, a clenching that he didn’t recognize. Had it been so long since he’d had a meal? No, it hadn’t been that long since he’d wolfed down that sandwich. Then he remembered the spaghetti sauce that had smelled so good. Was it the sauce or the maker that had him so intrigued?

“How long will it take to finish up that spaghetti?” he asked, wondering if he’d just been rude. He wasn’t sure he was that hungry, but he had to do something to keep Jennifer from packing up and going home.

“I can have it on the table in about fifteen minutes,” Jennifer said, her eyes still fixed on the tiny figure curled up in the big bed. “Do you think you’ll be able to last that long?”

“I will if you will,” Rich said, wondering if his desire to keep Jennifer there had more to do with the curves he could only guess about and less to do with the two munchkins finally sleeping in the next room.

NOT FOR the first time, Jennifer wondered what she was doing—first in Rich’s apartment helping with the kids, and now in his kitchen dishing up spaghetti with her secret-recipe sauce. Rich’s body seemed so huge, and now that the kids were sleeping, she was all too aware of how attractive he really was.

Jennifer stirred the sauce and waited for the water for the noodles to come to a boil. She lifted the spoon to her mouth to test the sauce, but Rich stepped up beside her, and Jennifer offered the taste to him. He accepted, and she caught her breath as he closed his hand over hers and guided the spoon to his mouth. Her knees almost turned to jelly as he closed his lips over the spoon and tasted. The water wasn’t the only thing starting to boil.

She grabbed for the package of noodles and gauged the right amount in the circle of her thumb and forefinger. “Just let me get this into the water,” she said, noting the breathlessness in her voice. Had Rich noticed?

“I can’t wait,” he said, his voice sounding as husky as hers. “I’ll just set the table and stay out of your way. Maybe, that way you can get it ready faster.”

On one hand, Jennifer was relieved the distraction was gone. On the other, she already missed the way Rich filled the room. Without him, the kitchen seemed larger, emptier.

She shook her head. Stop thinking this way, she told herself firmly. This is a one-time-only deal. You’re helping the man out. That’s all. Once you’ve eaten dinner, you’ll pack up your stuff and go home. End of story.

RICH HELPED Jennifer carry the dishes from the table and stash them in the dishwasher. Dinner had been strained, the conversation limited to Sherry, the kids and the weather, but he was sorry it was over. He couldn’t explain it, but he had enjoyed having Jennifer there. Not just because she’d helped him with the kids, but because…He didn’t know why. He just liked the way he felt when he was around her.

Jennifer stood at the sink, watching as it filled and foamed with bubbles around the saucepan and pot she’d used to cook with. Rich wanted to go over and lift that luxurious, long hair off her neck and press his lips to the curve where it met her shoulder, but he didn’t.

He didn’t know why he wanted to. Didn’t know what to make of these new sensations churning in his chest. He wished he could name it. Indigestion? Not likely. Still, it was a feeling he couldn’t name.

She wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to being around. He knew goal-oriented military women, and he knew good-time, party girls. He didn’t know what to do with a woman like Jennifer.

“When is Rebecca coming to pick up the kids?” Jennifer asked suddenly.

“She’s not. I have to bring them back with me.”

Jennifer stopped, her hand poised in midair as she started to place the pot on the drainboard and turned to face him. “Do you have another vehicle besides the truck?”

Not certain he understood the point of the question, Rich looked at her. “No. Why?”

“You can’t take those kids in that truck.”

“Sure, I can,” he said. He’d already worked it out. “I’ll put all their stuff in the back, Caitlyn on the seat, and Carter on my lap.”

Jennifer turned off the water and stared at him. “I…don’t…think…so.” She enunciated each word very clearly as if English were not his first language.

“Sure I can.” What the hell was going on here? Who was she to tell him what to do with his niece and nephew?

“You have no idea, do you?” she said, staring at him, her face a study in consternation.

“What?” He was beginning to be annoyed here. She was looking at him like he’d suddenly grown horns, or a tail. He resisted the urge to reach back and feel for one.

“They have to be in their car seats. By law, I think. And I think I heard something that says you should never put children in the front.” Jennifer searched her brain for the reasons. “Something about being thrown through the windshield in case of an accident,” she said, turning the water back on. “Or the air bags blowing up in their faces.”

“I’m not going to have an accident.”

“You don’t know that. Even if you don’t have an accident, you could get a ticket for not having the kids properly restrained.”

“What do you expect me to do? I can’t leave them here. I promised Sherry I’d be at the wedding. It’s her first trip out since the accident. She hasn’t seen her kids in a month.”

“Well,” Jennifer said. “You’ll have to find a car that has a back seat where you can install their car seats.”

Rich looked at her for a moment, then inspiration struck. He’d seen Jennifer’s car. “You have a car with room for the seats. Go with me,” he said.

“No,” she answered much too quickly and shook her head for emphasis.

“Yes,” he insisted. “It’s the perfect answer. Rebecca said I could bring a date. I’ll bring you.”

Jennifer slumped. Every time she thought her business with Rich Larsen was over and done with, he would say or do something to drag her in deeper. He already had her drawn in, hook, line and sinker, and now he wanted her to go to this wedding.

“Rich, I don’t know any of those people. Why would they want you to bring me?” she protested. What she was really doing was looking for an excuse to accept.

His expression was needy, earnest. “They wouldn’t know anybody I’d bring. I hadn’t invited anybody, so it might as well be you.”

That was a backhanded compliment, but Jennifer got his point. And she couldn’t let him transport the kids in the dangerous way he’d proposed. “All right,” she found herself saying. “I’ll go with you. But only to make sure the kids arrive safely.” She wondered who she was trying to convince. Rich? Or herself?

“Yesss!” Rich cheered, pulling her into his arms in an exuberant hug. “You won’t be sorry,” he insisted, though Jennifer already sensed with a strong feeling of doom that she would be sorry. “It’s a date.”

No, it isn’t, Jennifer told herself in no uncertain terms. She’s just doing her good deed for the day. The month. The year. The millennium.

Rich swooped in for a quick kiss, and Jennifer’s heart leapt as she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. She reveled in the sensation of his lips on hers, his strong, firm body pressed so close against her. If it had been like this with Duke, maybe she’d have hung in there.

Who was she kidding? Just because the man was a good kisser, it didn’t follow that he would have anymore staying power than Duke.

She pushed herself out of Rich’s arms, and out of reach. Drawing a deep, ragged breath, she tried to ignore the heat, the tingle, where his lips had ravaged hers. “So,” she said slowly, all the time knowing she was making a huge mistake, “what time do you want me to pick you and the kids up tomorrow?”