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A Passionate Proposal
Emilie Rose
After drowning in a slow-burning kiss with Tracy Sullivan at their high school reunion, an enamored Cort Lander realized she'd blossomed from a bookworm into a sultry beauty with a body made for lovin'. His lovin'.Whoa! That wasn't what the doctor ordered. Now that he had a baby boy in tow, the ambitious bachelor had taken a brief leave of absence from his prestigious medical residency to get his life together in his rural Texas hometown. Hiring Tracy as his son's temporary nanny was one thing, but embarking on an explosive no-strings-attached summer fling was quite another.As they burst into flames in the bedroom and bonded as a family on the homefront, would Cort sacrifice his love for a small-town girl to follow his big-city dreams?
Their Ragged Breaths Mingled. “There Could Be More Where That Came From…If You’re Willing.”
Cort’s shoulder muscles tensed beneath her fingers. “Exactly what are you suggesting, Tracy Sullivan?”
She gathered her courage. “I’m not looking for a husband. You’re not looking for a wife. But we’re both adults with—” Heat prickled her skin “—needs. We could um…explore those.”
“Are you propositioning me?”
What if Cort turned her down? How would she face him for the rest of the summer? “I’m suggesting that perhaps we could fulfill those needs for each other.”
He hesitated. “You sure about this? You wouldn’t rather have some guy who could give you the ring, the white picket fence and the whole nine yards?”
“Yes.”
Cort curled his long fingers around hers and lifted her hand to his mouth. His breath and then his lips whispered across her knuckles. “Then we have a deal. You’d better hold on to your shorts, Ms. Sullivan, because it’s going to be a long, hot summer.”
A Passionate Proposal
Emilie Rose
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
EMILIE ROSE
lives in North Carolina with her college-sweetheart husband and four sons. This bestselling author’s love for romance novels developed when she was twelve years old and her mother hid them under sofa cushions each time Emilie entered the room. Emilie grew up riding and showing horses. She’s a devoted baseball mom during the season and can usually be found in the bleachers watching one of her sons play. Her hobbies include quilting, cooking (especially cheesecake) and anything cowboy. Her favorite TV shows include Discovery Channel’s medical programs, ER, CSI and Boston Public. Emilie’s a country music fan because there’s an entire book in nearly every song.
Emilie loves to hear from her readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 20145, Raleigh, NC 27619 or at www.EmilieRose.com.
Pattie, thanks for pitching them over the plate.
Candy, Kim and Sally, you gals make this business more fun than it ought to be.
And to Diane, thanks for the insight into your job.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Prologue
Middle-of-the-night calls never brought good news.
Cort Lander smacked his cheek in an effort to wake himself and grabbed the phone before the second ring. “Hello?”
He squinted at the digital clock. Just because his last seventy-two-hour shift had only ended three hours ago didn’t mean the hospital wouldn’t call him to come back if one of his patients took a bad turn. He preferred it that way.
“Is this Cort Lander—former…companion of Kate Simms?”
A bitter taste filled his mouth. He hadn’t heard from Kate in over a year. Who would be calling here for her? “Yes.”
“I’m Helen McBride from Du Page County Social Services. I’m sorry to have to inform you that Ms. Simms was killed today.”
His heart stuttered. He struggled with the tangled sheets and sat up.
“Kate’s dead?” Bold and aggressive Kate. She’d vowed that nothing would stand in the way of her becoming the best criminal attorney to ever hit Chicago. He hadn’t realized at the time that she’d considered him an obstacle. “How?”
“A client managed to get a gun into the courthouse. When the verdict didn’t go his way, he—but that’s not why I called, Mr. Lander.”
“Doctor,” he corrected automatically.
“I called to ask you to take custody of your son.”
“My what?” Certain his sleep-deprived brain had misunderstood, he shoved a hand through his hair, shook his head to clear it and then turned on the bedside lamp.
“Joshua, your son.”
“Kate and I didn’t have any children.”
“Before she passed away, Ms. Simms told us where to find you and asked us to make sure you came for the boy. You are his only living relative.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He had a son? Impossible, unless Kate had been pregnant when she left Durham to take the job in Chicago. She’d surprised him with a Dear John letter four months later, but she’d never mentioned a pregnancy. Hell, she hadn’t even bothered to mention why she’d dumped him.
“I haven’t seen Kate in—” he mentally counted back “—almost sixteen months. How old is the boy?”
“Nine months. I’m sorry. I know this is quite a shock, but you are named as the father on his birth certificate, and Ms. Simms listed you as Joshua’s guardian in her will. You must come and get him.”
“What’s his blood type?” Blood wasn’t conclusive, but he knew Kate’s was O negative because she’d donated frequently. His was AB positive.
He heard the crackle of shifting papers over the phone line. “Josh’s blood type is AB positive.”
His gut clenched and his heart pounded harder. His palms started to sweat. The phone nearly slipped from his fingers. The calm he prided himself on when dealing with patients in the hospital vanished.
“I’m not taking custody until a DNA test proves he’s my son.”
“I certainly understand how you feel, Dr. Lander, but you are listed as the child’s guardian regardless. You can certainly choose to give him up for adoption, but I’d suggest meeting Joshua first.”
“Tell me where I can find him.” He fumbled for a pen and paper and wrote down the address, and then he hung up the phone and put his head in his hands.
If Kate had had his baby, then why hadn’t she told him? They’d parted on good terms—or so he’d thought until he’d received his walking papers. He’d planned to visit her during the holidays, but then she’d dumped him and refused to return his calls or his e-mails. Why? Had she found somebody new? Or had she finally figured out that a Texas cowboy would never meet her high expectations? She’d wanted blue blood, but he was blue collar.
He stood up and paced his bedroom, thankful that his roommates were all working the night shift, and he didn’t have to explain the bombshell that had just dropped on his life. He wandered from room to room in the tiny two bedroom apartment he shared with three other medical residents.
What in the hell was he going to do with a baby? He couldn’t bring him here.
He’d have to ask to be excused from the residency program early. Thank God summer break was only a few days away.
If the child was his he’d take him home to Crooked Creek. His brothers would know what to do with a baby. He’d call them and tell them… Oh, hell. He scraped a hand over his face.
He’d tell them the Lander curse had struck again.
One
The view from where he stood almost made Cort forget his brother had railroaded him into attending his high school’s ten-year reunion.
A squeal drew his gaze from the rear view of the perfectly shaped female in front of him to the gal springing from her chair at the reception desk. She bounded around the table and hugged him. “Cort Lander. Oh my gosh. We had no idea you were coming. I thought you were in North Carolina.”
The owner of those incredible legs stiffened in her sensible shoes but she didn’t turn or interrupt her conversation with the man he recognized as his old gym teacher.
The squealer pointed to her puckered lips. “I’ll forgive you for not letting me know you were coming if you plant one right here.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman with the great tush said as she turned.
Tracy Sullivan. He’d recognize her prim tone anywhere. A grin spread across his face.
Tracy’s tightly twisted red hair had darkened to the color of the cinnamon sugar he sprinkled on his toast, but her serious caramel-colored eyes hadn’t changed one bit. Neither had those lips. Damned if she didn’t have the greatest mouth he’d ever seen, but as she’d been the sister of one of his teammates, that sexy mouth of hers had always been off-limits.
She moved forward. Whoa, where did she get those curves? Hadn’t she been a beanpole in high school? His gaze rolled over hills and valleys he didn’t remember, and his pulse accelerated.
Tracy’s brows lowered in a mock scowl, but she couldn’t completely suppress the smile twitching her lips. “Libby’s married to the football coach, and if she doesn’t stop accosting every man who comes through the door, her husband is going to tackle someone.”
Libby ignored the warning, grabbed his shirt with both hands and yanked him forward. His gaze locked with Tracy’s as Libby smacked her lips against the corner of his mouth. Libby turned him loose, grabbed Tracy’s hand and dragged her forward. “Come on, girl, get yours.”
His heart missed a beat. Normally he wouldn’t let himself be coerced into kissing anyone, but the blush rising from Tracy’s collar and spreading across the creamy skin of her cheeks was an endearing reminder of the freckle-faced girl who’d tutored him through high school English. Without her, he never would have graduated.
And it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d considered kissing her. He let his gaze drift to her lips, and his mouth dried.
Her blush intensified. “I don’t think—”
He cupped his hand around her nape and smothered her protest with his lips. He meant to pull back after a quick buss, but his lips lingered on the softness of hers, sinking in and savoring. The sensation of coming home washed over him, which made no sense whatsoever since he and Josh had been home for days. Best he could figure it had something to do with her scent. Tracy smelled like home—hers, not his—apple pie and oatmeal cookies.
Her fingers curled into his chest, and her gasp of surprise pulled air from his lungs. His sanity followed right along behind it. Her silky hair brushed his knuckles, and his groin stirred.
A wolf whistle reminded him where he was and who he was with. Tracy. David’s sister.
Down boy.
He released her slowly and struggled to regulate his breathing. His heart pounded in his ears like a jackhammer, and his blood raced through his veins as if pushed by a turbocharged engine. He hadn’t been with a woman since Kate, and it was clear his body was aware of that fact.
That was the only reason kissing Tracy had set him on his ear. Wasn’t it?
Tracy stood rooted to the spot, looking as stunned as she had the day she’d caught him skinny-dipping in Doc Finney’s stretch of the Nueces River, and then she gathered herself and went starchy—the same as she had a decade ago. She might be aiming for cool, but the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath her blue dress told another story. “That was unnecessary.”
Unnecessary and probably unwise, but he couldn’t help wanting to kiss her damp lips again. He grinned and shook his head at the absurdity of wanting to kiss his pal, his buddy, his drill sergeant. “Time looks real good on you, Trace.”
Her face took on a tomato hue, and her fingers knotted. “I…you…thank you, Cort.”
They stood there gawking at each other until Libby grabbed each of them by the elbow and steered them toward the darkened corner of the gym reserved for dancing. Cort nodded to old acquaintances as they passed, but Libby’s frog march didn’t allow him time to stop and talk.
“Isn’t Cort just the hunkiest thing, Tracy? Y’all dance and I’ll cut in when my shift at the welcome table is over.” Libby left them.
He faced Tracy and extended his hand. Her gaze bounced off his and returned. After what looked like a bracing breath, she curled her fingers around his palm. A hot flush washed over his body just as it had the first time he’d taken Tracy into his arms. He tried to concentrate on the up-tempo country song, but he hadn’t two-stepped in years. His movements were awkward and the distracting reaction of his body to Tracy’s wasn’t helping his coordination, since the oxygenated blood from his brain pooled about a yard short of his feet.
They’d only taken a dozen steps when Tracy scolded him. “You shouldn’t let Libby’s silly challenges goad you into action. I swear, you’d think people would change in ten years, but—”
“It’s good to see you, too,” he interrupted. Chuckling, he shifted his hand on her waist, searching for a spot where the heat of her skin didn’t penetrate the thin fabric of her dress to singe his palm.
“I didn’t know you were home.” Did he imagine the hitch in her voice?
“I’ve only been here a few days, and I won’t be staying long.” As soon as he figured out how in the hell to put his life back together, he’d return to Durham.
“You’re still in the residency program at Duke?”
“Yes, I…took some time off.” Tracy had always expected the best from him, and for some reason he didn’t want to admit to her that he’d been hit by the Lander curse. He’d screwed up and gotten a woman pregnant the same way his father and one of his brothers had. A medical school graduate ought to know better.
Twenty-one pounds of hindsight had dropped in his lap last week, and he still hadn’t figured out how he was going to handle that much…knowledge and continue his training.
The band switched to a slow ballad, and the lights dimmed. He pulled Tracy closer, but she stiffened and leaned away. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Why not? It’s not like we haven’t danced before. Prom night. Right here in this gym. Remember?”
And just like prom night, he couldn’t control the action going on in his britches. Come on, man, get a grip. This is your pal, Tracy.
Her lush lips flattened. “I remember.”
Whoa. Definite frostbite. Either she’d guessed his struggle or… “Do I have bad breath or something?”
She glanced at his mouth and then away. His lips tingled. “No, but I’d rather not take a trip down memory lane.”
“Isn’t that what a reunion is all about?” She squirmed in his hold, looking ready to bolt. Reluctant to let her go, he changed the subject. “What are you doing now?”
“Teaching.”
Surprise made him stumble or maybe it was exhaustion. His thigh brushed between hers, and a distracting prickle followed his veins uphill. Oh man. Another jolt like that and everybody in the gym would be able to see his adolescent reaction. “I didn’t know you wanted to teach.”
“We never discussed my plans. We focused on your goals.” Her gaze never left his chin.
“Ouch. Was I a selfish SOB?”
“No. You were the youngest in your family. The world tends to revolve around the one occupying that niche.” He didn’t hear a reprimand in her tone, only a statement of fact.
It was his turn to squirm. “And you were the oldest, the one in charge of the Sullivan herd. Are you still cracking the whip over David and the rest of your brothers and sisters?”
Her gaze flicked to his and away again before he could figure out what kind of thoughts she had running around in her head. “My family’s still around.”
No doubt her siblings had left her holding down the fort with the parents—not that she’d complain. Tracy had always been big on responsibility. “Where are you teaching?”
“Here.”
“Here, as in Texas or here as in…here?”
“I teach English here at County.” Her expression dared him to make something of it, and her spine stiffened beneath his fingers. He fought the urge to massage the tense muscles.
“You’re probably good at it, but I’ll bet you’re tough. You were with me, and I can’t tell you how much I learned to appreciate that once I hit college.”
His comment seemed to fluster her. “Yes, well, I’m hoping to become the principal soon—if I can penetrate the all-boys club.” Pride and steely determination tilted her chin and exposed the slim column of her neck bared by the V-neck dress.
He struggled with an unexpected impulse to bury his face in the pale skin and cleared his throat. “So you’re doing well?”
She focused on a point beyond his shoulder. “Yes, my career—my life—is right on target.”
Good. At least somebody’s was. His sure had taken an unexpected detour, and where he’d go from here was anybody’s guess. He had to figure that out—pronto.
An enthusiastic couple careened in their direction. Cort shifted his hold and swung her out of the way. His feet tangled as if someone had tied his shoestrings together, and he ended up pressed against Tracy from shoulder to knee. She went poker stiff, and he realized he had a handful of the curvaceous bottom he’d admired earlier. Dormant hormones awoke with the clamor of a marching band and paraded south in formation. Swift and unexpected desire made his mouth water and his skin flush.
For Tracy. Oh, hell.
His weird thoughts had to be a by-product of exhaustion. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he’d picked up Josh. The kid cried all the time and his sleep cycle was nonexistent. They’d both be happier as soon as he could figure out why.
“Excuse me.” The chill in her voice and the look in her eyes warned him he might lose a few digits—among other things—if he didn’t move. Fast.
He missed another step and slid against her. The hard tips of her soft breasts teased his chest. His senses rioted. She couldn’t possibly miss his condition. Embarrassed, he put a few inches between them.
“Do you mind if we sit the rest of this one out? I could use some caffeine.” Or a cold shower.
“By all means. Refreshments are this way.” Was that a quaver in her voice? Tracy pulled free and led the way across the gym in a long, sure stride.
For several seconds his knees locked, refusing to move. When did she add that seductive sway to her walk? He gave himself a mental kick in the pants and followed at a slower pace. His professor of abnormal psychology would have a field day with this. Was the combination of fatigue and sex deprivation the root of his problem? Or had bookworm Tracy Sullivan transformed into a goddess sometime during the past decade?
He shrugged it off. Either way it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be here long enough to find out. Besides, even if he didn’t have to worry about her brother anymore there were some things a guy just didn’t do with a pal. Loving ’em and leaving ’em ranked number one on the list.
She handed him a glass of soda when he reached her side, and he chugged the icy liquid.
Libby bounced up. “Hey, you two, this isn’t a funeral.”
He welcomed the interruption and tried to realign his thinking while Libby babbled at an auctioneer’s pace about who’d done what, when and where. Cort lost track of her convoluted tale, focusing instead on the emotions chasing across Tracy’s face. Had he offended her?
His brain tuned back in when Libby said, “Tracy is without her usual summer nanny job and without a tenant for her upstairs apartment. And if I know you, Tracy, you’ve spent every spare dime on your baby brother and your needs-to-get-a-life-and-a-job sister. What will you do for money?”
Tracy looked mortified. “I will manage.”
“Didn’t you just pay Vance’s tuition for next semester?”
Could Tracy’s youngest brother be old enough for college?
“Libby—”
“I swear your family wrings every last cent out of you.”
“Enough, Libby.”
Whoa. That must be the voice she would use to yank students back in line. It sure made him stand up straighter. He wiped a smile off his face, remembering the times in her momma’s kitchen when she’d used that tone to haul him back on task. Yes, now that he thought about it, he could see her as a teacher. She’d always maintained order in the chaos of the Sullivan kitchen.
“I’m certain Cort would rather talk about his training. What are you studying now, Cort?” She stretched her lips into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
He winked to acknowledge her change of subject and almost forgot her question when she bit her lip and flushed. “I just finished my E.R. rotation. I’m specializing in cardiothoracic surgery.”
“Oooh, E.R.,” Libby gushed. “I love that show.”
Tracy’s smile faded and a frown pleated her brows. “What happened to your plan to come back here and practice at Doc’s clinic?”
“Dad.”
She laid a hand on his forearm. “You chose cardio because of your father’s heart attack?”
Tracy had always been a toucher, but he didn’t remember her touch burning his skin before. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Without that surgeon, Dad wouldn’t have made it.”
She snatched her hand away and knotted her fingers. “Your father seems very happy with Penny. Married life suits him.”
“Yes, it does.” Cort hadn’t been home five minutes before he figured out that he was a lone wolf—albeit with a cub in tow. His father had remarried, and each of his brothers had wives and children. Crooked Creek, the family ranch where he’d grown up, now belonged to his older brother Patrick.
He felt like an intruder at the ranch, but he had no idea where else to go or what to do with himself and his son for the summer. Taking Josh back to the two-bedroom apartment he shared with three other medical residents was out of the question, because even if he could find child care, his roommates wouldn’t tolerate a baby crying in the middle of the night.
He couldn’t keep imposing on Patrick and his wife, Leanna, but he’d yet to come up with an affordable alternative. “What’s this about being a nanny? I would think you’d have had enough baby-sitting when you were younger.”
“I did, but working for this family each summer gives me an opportunity to travel. We toured Europe last year and the Hawaiian islands the year before that. We were headed for Australia this year.”
“Sounds fun.” He didn’t remember Tracy ever doing anything just for the hell of it. He’d tried and failed to tempt her into playing hooky numerous times.
“Enjoyable and educational,” she corrected.
That was Tracy. To her, both words meant the same thing. He bit down on a smile. If he’d ever figured out a way to convince her that skipping homework could be educational, he might have stood a chance at getting her to cut loose.
Beside him Libby wiggled to the music. “Are you married, Cort?”
“No.” And with Josh in the picture, he wouldn’t even be dating anytime soon, but he wasn’t about to tell Libby about Kate or the surprise she’d left him. It’d be all over town before sunup.
Libby gaped. “Why not?”
Tracy pinned him with a look that made him feel as if he’d forgotten his homework. “My training comes first and I still have five years to go.”
Libby shimmied. “But aren’t you already a doctor?”
“Yes, but I’m not a surgeon.”
“Oh, please, a doctor’s a doctor. I want my dance.” Libby grabbed his elbow and dragged him toward the dance floor.
Tracy released her breath and touched her fingertips to her lips. Running into Cort Lander was not the highlight of her evening.
She’d been over her crush on him for years. Hadn’t she? So why had her body flushed the minute she’d heard Libby say his name? And why did her thoughts scatter like dandelion seeds on the wind each time he touched her? And that kiss! She’d nearly collapsed at his feet. Her knees might never recover.
She tried to look away from the couple on the dance floor, but couldn’t. Cort had changed. He’d left home as a rough-and-ready cowboy, but he’d returned with an urban polish. His thick, dark hair smoothly cupped his head without a single glossy curl out of place. Time had chiseled away the youthful softness of his jaw, deepened his voice and erased every hint of the slow Texas drawl that used to make her melt like ice cream in July. Unfortunately, the changes had only improved on an already potent product.
She couldn’t remember ever seeing him in anything other than jeans or a basketball uniform. Tonight he seemed taller in his pressed khakis, and his shoulders looked broader beneath a pale yellow oxford cloth shirt. The man oozed confidence, and darned if she didn’t find that incredibly sexy.
Good Lord, would she never learn?
She shook her head and sipped her cola. Remember what had happened the last time you gave your heart to Cort Lander? When he’d asked her to the senior prom, she’d thought he returned her feelings. Instead, he’d asked her because her brother had told him that no one else had. A pity date.
She had his basketball buddies—her brother among them—to thank for clearing up that little misconception.
Her only consolation was that Cort apparently never had a clue about the colossal crush she’d had on him in high school.
On the positive side, if bad things came in threes, then between her tenant bailing, her summer job fizzling and the man of her adolescent dreams reappearing she’d met her quota this week. Her luck should now take a turn for the better.
Cort looked up and his gaze met hers across the crowded gym floor. The corner of his mouth tilted in a sympathetic smile, and something inside her twisted. What was Libby telling him now? She cringed. Her best friend was well acquainted with every dirty secret Tracy owned, and bless Libby’s heart, if she knew something, then everyone else soon would. She hadn’t earned the nickname of Loose Lips Libby for nothing.
She could imagine the words “Tracy must be the oldest virgin in McMullen County. Can you believe it? And since she hasn’t had a date in the last five years her status isn’t likely to change.”
Libby told her often enough to get out there and play ball so that she’d be familiar with the rules of the game. Unfortunately, Tracy had known the entire male population of the area since kindergarten and didn’t have the slightest urge to become intimate with any of them. Her lack of interest probably had something to do with the knowledge that most of them were proud of their ability to burp the alphabet.
Swallowing hard, she smoothed her hands over her new linen dress. She’d have to cut in before Libby blabbed more secrets, and that held about as much appeal as a root canal.
Calm. In control. Professional. Silently reciting her mantra, she inhaled and exhaled. She could do this, but it would have been easier if Cort had widened around the middle and thinned on the top like most of their classmates.
It would be easier if she didn’t still feel the imprint of his hand on her butt.
At that moment Cort yawned and stumbled again. The man must be exhausted. Honestly, some people had no sense of when to quit partying and go home to bed.
Tsking, Tracy marched across the floor and tapped her friend’s shoulder. After a sly look, Libby surprisingly relinquished her prize without argument.
This time Tracy ignored her embarrassment and looked at Cort—really looked at him—noting the purple smudges beneath his brown eyes and the tired slump of his wide shoulders. She fought the urge to smooth his dark hair and pull his tired head to her shoulder. Her heart quickened just thinking about such a bold move, but of course she’d never do such a thing—especially with so many people watching.
“You’re dead on your feet. Why are you here when you should be in bed?” She hoped he didn’t notice the catch in her voice when his fingers curled around hers or the fact that she had never learned to dance worth beans.
Cort’s brows rose, and a teasing sparkle lit his eyes. His amazingly sensual mouth curved in a smile. “Is that an invitation?”
Her cheeks flamed and her stomach dropped to her shoes. She glanced over her shoulders to make sure no one had overheard. “It most certainly is not. With the way you’re stumbling around, you’re an accident waiting to happen.”
“And I thought you liked my style.” He tried and failed to smother another yawn as he two-stepped her around the floor.
She didn’t take it personally—even though one of her dates in college had informed her that she could bore a man to death. “Your style is absent tonight…along with your coordination. Would you like for me to drive you home?”
“I can make it under my own steam.”
He looked as if he’d doze off standing up if he stopped moving. “Twenty miles down a straight, dark stretch of road? I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”
“Are you trying to mother me, Trace?” A gentle smile touched his lips.
She winced. According to her siblings, she mothered everyone. “No. Yes. Probably.”
“Thanks. I’ll accept your offer.” He yawned again. “Guess I’m not much of a party animal tonight, but I sure am glad I came. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss seeing you.”
Warmth swept through her, but she stopped it. Cort was just being polite. He’d always been polite. Too polite. Back in high school she’d wished just once he would grab her and kiss her senseless. She’d have willingly done whatever he wanted in the back of his pickup, but he’d saved that treat for the more popular girls. That was then, and now she had better sense. Thanks to her youngest sister, she’d learned exactly what folks around here called gals who did such a thing.
“My car is the dark-blue sedan parked near the flagpole. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
His brows dipped. “We can’t leave together?”
“People will talk.”
“If you don’t want to be seen leaving with me, then I’ll get myself home.”
God save her from the male ego. Oh, bother. “Let me tell Libby where I’m going and why.”
Five minutes later Cort crammed his long-legged frame into the passenger seat beside her. The car seemed darker, smaller and more intimate than when she’d parked it two hours ago. Lord, the man smelled good—like one of those expensive samples that came in her magazines. She tried not to be obvious when she drew in another whiff and then exhaled shakily.
“In a few minutes you’ll be home and tucked in.”
He slanted a sexy, sleepy look in her direction, and she nearly backed into the flagpole. Her mouth dried and her heart hammered. She double-checked to make sure her fingers hadn’t turned into thumbs on the steering wheel, because it certainly felt that way.
A mile down the road the tightness in her throat subsided enough for her to ask, “Are you and your brothers keeping late hours catching up?”
Silence. Tracy glanced at Cort as she drove beneath the area light at the Farm and Ranch Store. He’d fallen asleep. The straight road and the full moon gave her the opportunity to look her fill. Once she’d dreamed of marrying this guy and living happily ever after. But, of course, that was before she’d discovered his plan to go to college halfway across the country. Just as well, popular jocks like Cort never dated geeks like her except out of pity.
Minutes later she parked in front of the Lander home. Moonlight slanted through the windshield, and a cool breeze swept fresh air through the open car windows. Being with Cort brought back bittersweet memories, which she’d deliberately suppressed in the past few years. She didn’t like remembering where she’d come from. Instead, she focused on where she was going.
Their community didn’t have a train track, but it did have a landfill, and the Sullivan house was on the wrong side of it. Folks had pitied them, donated clothes and old toys to them, but she’d never noticed Cort looking down his nose at her. He never seemed to see the shabby house and furnishings, and he never complained about her siblings storming through the kitchen for snacks during their study sessions. If anything, he seemed to like coming to her house for tutoring. As long as the cookie jar was full, Cort had been a willing visitor.
Much as she would like to sit here and reminisce, she had to get back to the gym before folks—namely Libby—started talking. Curving her fingers over the thick muscles of his shoulder, she shook him awake. “Cort, you’re home.”
His eyelids slowly lifted and he smiled sleepily. “Thanks, Trace. You’re a pal.”
“So I’ve been told. Good night, Cort. I’ll see you around.”
He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers before she realized his intentions. Her heart pounded, and she had to fight the urge to twine her arms around his neck. She’d come a long way in the past decade, but men like Cort never settled for less than the best. He sat back and she licked her lips. His taste lingered.
“Count on it.” He winked and sauntered away.
Two
Cort eased into the house as quietly as possible, pausing to listen for Josh’s wail. Silence, blessed, rare silence greeted him.
He leaned against the door and wiped a hand over his mouth. He’d kissed Tracy—twice—and wanted to again. Was he nuts?
Stepping into the den, he flipped the light on—oh, hell—and flipped it back off when Leanna squealed, “Eeek!”
His brother was bare-assed and busy with his sister-in-law.
“Sorry.” Embarrassed, he backed out of the room and hustled to the kitchen. A few minutes later his brother followed him in. Cort said, “I’m sorry, man.”
Patrick fixed himself a glass of water. “She’ll get over it…eventually. You’re home early. I didn’t hear your truck.”
“Tracy Sullivan gave me a ride. She was afraid I’d fall asleep at the wheel, probably with good reason. And I was worried about Josh.”
“He went down about an hour ago. Fussy little critter, isn’t he? He kept you up again most of last night?”
“Yeah. I guess that means he kept you up, too.”
He shrugged. “Babies do that.”
“Yours doesn’t.”
“Matt’s two years old, and he didn’t lose his mother and move halfway across the country in the last week.”
“You think that’s all it is? I know nothing about babies.”
“Consider this a crash course. Besides, you have three brothers and six nieces and nephews who’re willing to teach you everything they know. You’ll get it…eventually.”
“For Josh’s sake, I hope you’re right.”
“Even though you didn’t stay long, I hope the break tonight did you some good. You looked like you were about to lose it.”
Cort shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m just not used to…”
“Struggling?” When Cort looked at him in surprise, Patrick continued. “You were the smart one who never had to work hard for anything. Struggling isn’t something you’ve experienced.”
His brother had no clue how hard he’d worked to get accepted into Duke and to get a partial scholarship. Cort owed Tracy for keeping his nose to the grindstone.
Patrick crossed to the bulletin board and pulled down a business card. “Do you remember Dr. Finney?”
“I ought to. He patched us up often enough, and I worried the tarnation out of him by following him around and asking him questions about his practice. My first paying job was mopping his clinic floors.”
“I forgot about that. I know Josh is your first concern right now, but Doc Finney needs some help at the clinic. Here’s his number.”
In other words, big brother thought he needed to contribute to his bed and board. “I’m only here for the summer. Think he’d be interested?”
“Can’t hurt to ask, and it’ll further your training.”
“I’ll stop by the clinic tomorrow.” He turned to leave the kitchen and stopped. “Patrick, if our being here is a problem…”
Patrick clapped a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the stairs. “This is your home. It’s not a problem, but make a little noise next time you come in.”
She’d already had her three bad things this week. So why was Cort Lander standing on her front porch with a baby in his arms? And why, since she didn’t really want to see him again, did her heart dance a jitterbug when his dark gaze swept over her?
Embarrassed to be caught in her ratty workout clothes, Tracy blotted the moisture from her forehead. She’d been exercising her behind off—literally. Her cheeks still burned when she thought about Cort grabbing a handful of her abundant derriere.
“Still have that apartment for rent?”
She took in the broad shoulders filling her doorway and the way his black suit accentuated his dark good looks and how his coffee-colored tie perfectly matched his eyes. Her mouth dried. In a word he looked scrumptious. It took her a second to process his question and form a coherent answer. “Yes, I still have a vacant apartment.”
The baby’s round face reddened as if he was winding up for a scream. His dark eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip quivered. Whose adorable baby was this and why had they left Cort in charge? He clearly had no idea what he was doing.
“Can we rent it?”
“We?” Her stomach dropped. He’d said he wasn’t married, but did he have a significant other? If so, then why had he kissed her? She glanced over his shoulder, but no one waited in the cab of his truck.
“Josh and I. And I’d like to hire you to be his nanny for the summer.”
Surprised, she looked at the baby again, this time noticing the similarities between the males on her porch. They shared the same dark hair, deep-brown eyes and straight nose, and although she’d never seen Cort pout, she’d bet his full bottom lip would look exactly the same if he poked it out that way. “Josh is yours?”
“Yes. Is the apartment furnished?” Cort jiggled the baby, but it seemed to agitate him more.
She couldn’t explain the envy curdling in her stomach. Given that she’d practically raised her six siblings, she didn’t plan to have children of her own—not that she had to worry about that since she couldn’t get a date, let alone a husband. She certainly wasn’t going to get upset just because some other woman had borne Cort’s baby.
“Yes. Oh, give him to me. When did he eat last and oh…” The situation became clear as soon as her hand cupped his soggy bottom. “He needs a diaper change. Do you have a diaper bag?”
“It’s in the truck.” He looked reluctant to leave.
“Get it.” On the way to the den she detoured by the linen closet to get a towel to lay Josh on. After spreading it on the rug, she put him down. “Poor fella. You’re a mess, aren’t you? And you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
Those big dark eyes studied her while she stripped off his terry cloth sleeper. “You look just like your daddy.”
“Are you complimenting me or insulting him?” He set the diaper bag down beside her.
Her pulse raced. “You figure it out.”
Josh reached for her, and Tracy couldn’t help herself. She blew a raspberry on his bare chubby tummy. He cackled and windmilled his arms.
“How did you do that?” Cort looked stunned.
“What? Blow the raspberry?”
“No. You made him laugh. He only cries for me.”
He wasn’t kidding. The earnestness in his eyes tore at her heart. Did Cort have an ex-wife? A custody issue? For some reason that bothered her, and it shouldn’t, because Cort’s personal relationships were none of her business.
“Does his mother take care of him most of the time?”
“Kate’s dead. I didn’t even know Josh existed until last week. She didn’t tell me she was pregnant.”
She kept one hand on the squirming baby and pressed the other to the ache in her chest. Her eyes stung. “That’s horrible. You weren’t married?”
He hunkered down and dug a diaper and the wipes out of the bag. Their fingers brushed when she took them from him, and her heart skipped a beat. “No. We split up when she graduated from law school and took a job in Chicago.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell you about this beautiful little boy?” Tracy whipped off the soiled diaper, slipped on a fresh one and then tugged on a clean romper.
Cort crowded her, watching her as intently as if she were performing a delicate surgical procedure. Growing up in a small home with six siblings meant she didn’t require much personal space, but she was very aware that Cort had invaded hers. It made her self-conscious to have him so close and watching her every move.
Besides, he looked and smelled divine, and after thirty minutes of aerobics she didn’t.
“According to her neighbor, Kate didn’t tell me because she didn’t want me to give up my plan to become a surgeon. She knew that I’d been raised by my brothers while dad worked eighteen-hour days, and that there was no way in hell I would have repeated the absentee father scenario.”
“But to keep your son a secret…” She reached out to offer comfort, but drew her hand back before making contact. Touching him last night had wreaked havoc on her senses.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. Save your pity for him. He’s stuck with a lame-ass father unless I—” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Unless you what?”
His jaw muscles clenched and he turned his head away. “Nothing.”
“Cort?” Slowly she rose to stand beside him. His gaze met hers, and she caught her breath at his tortured expression. “You’re not thinking about giving him up, are you?”
He shoved a hand through his hair and then massaged the back of his neck. “I can’t help wondering if he’d be better off with two parents or even one who won’t be working the insane schedule of a surgical resident. He’s miserable with me. I don’t even know when it’s time to change his diaper.”
This time she didn’t resist her impulse. She grabbed his biceps, tipped her head back and faced him eye to eye. “I’ve never known you to fail at anything you really wanted to do. You’ll learn how to be a daddy.”
“So I’m told.” He didn’t sound as though he believed it. “If you agree to be his nanny for the summer, maybe you can teach me.”
His nanny. Seeing Cort every day. Having him live upstairs with his bed directly above hers. Oh, Lord. She laid a hand over the knot in her stomach. Could she do that without falling in love with him all over again? Could she survive him leaving her a second time and knowing this time he wouldn’t be coming back?
She wet her lips and rubbed her temple. For sanity’s sake she ought to refuse, but the doubts in his eyes made her want to pull him close. A remnant of common sense intervened. “What about your family? Can’t they help out?”
“My brothers think it’s hilarious to watch me fumble around, because they claim they did the same thing. You’d never know it now. They’re pros. My sisters-in-law are better, but all three of them are pregnant and battling morning sickness in addition to juggling their own kids and careers.”
“All three are pregnant?”
He shrugged. “It’s a planned thing. They’re trying to have the babies close together.”
Josh smiled and blew spit bubbles, thoroughly enjoying his freedom on the floor. Cort knelt and gently, tentatively, smoothed his big hand over the baby’s soft, dark hair. “It’s just me and the little guy. Poor kid. If anybody can teach me, Trace, it’s you.”
Her heart melted.
Josh stiffened and whimpered.
Cort muttered under his breath and straightened. He reached in his coat pocket and extracted a slip of paper. “I had an interview at the clinic this morning. This is what Doc Finney is offering to pay me. I’ve made a list of my other expenses, but I don’t know what you charge to nanny or for rent. Can we afford you?”
Tension squeezed her rib cage and her heart pounded in the confined space. Sharing her home with Cort would be opening herself to heartache all over again.
But how could she refuse? She gazed at his son. The child had just lost his mother. Could she contribute to him losing his father, as well? Her conscience would haunt her forever.
With his clean diaper firmly in place, Josh rolled over onto his belly and crawled across the floor. Tracy let him go. Her nieces and nephews visited often enough that she kept the house childproofed, and baby drool wouldn’t show on her floral-patterned sofa.
Her hand trembled when she took the paper from Cort. Even after a decade his handwriting still looked familiar, and a lump formed in her throat. She studied the numbers and came to the conclusion that she’d have to manage on less money this summer, because she couldn’t turn Cort and Josh away. Somebody had to teach Cort how to be a father before he made a mistake that she was sure he’d live to regret.
“Yes, you can afford me.”
“Good. When can we move in?”
“Put away your money. I can pay my own deposit and first month’s rent,” Cort growled at his brother Sunday afternoon in Tracy’s upstairs apartment. His ears burned with humiliation.
“You have a kid to take care of, and now you’re paying rent on two apartments. Let me help.” Patrick had lowered his voice, but Cort was certain that Tracy, standing only a couple of yards away with Josh on her hip, could hear.
He peeled his gaze off the length of leg exposed by her shorts and glared at Patrick. “Dammit, I’m not one of your charities. I have three roommates sharing my other apartment, so you don’t have to worry about my check bouncing and me moving back home.”
“You didn’t have to leave in the first place.”
“Like hell, I—”
“Gentlemen,” Tracy scolded in her teacher voice, and Cort jerked to attention. “Josh is getting sleepy. Could we save the bickering until after the crib is assembled?”
His pride took a kick in the kneecaps.
Patrick shrugged. “Sorry, Tracy, you know how it is to be the older sibling.”
“Yes, I do, but perhaps you should remember that Cort is now twenty-eight, not eight. If he needs something from you I’m sure he’s mature enough to ask for it.” The understanding in her gaze washed over him before she glanced toward the numerous boxes stacked in the den and kitchenette.
She stepped closer and touched his shoulder. His skin ignited, and her cinnamon scent filled his senses when he inhaled. “Cort, could you find clean pajamas for Josh? I’ll give him his bath while you two finish up.”
“Sure.” He searched a box until he found a pale-green one-piece thing. Tracy took it, and their fingers brushed. Damn, he needed sleep more than he thought if one touch could stimulate his heart into arrhythmia.
“Thanks,” she said as she passed. He thought she sounded a little winded. Probably from bouncing Josh on her hip. For such a little guy, the kid was heavy.
His gaze slid from her white T-shirt over her departing rear and then down her legs. He didn’t remember Tracy’s legs—or any part of her for that matter—looking that good. He glanced up and caught his brother smirking at him.
Patrick turned for the door leading to the outside stairs and called over his shoulder, “I need to get the toolbox from the truck.”
Cooing and splashing pulled Cort away from unpacking and led him to the bathroom. Tracy had Josh in the tub. The little tyke obviously liked Tracy bathing him. He didn’t enjoy it half as much when Cort washed him. Smart kid. Tracy wasn’t likely to let his slippery body squirm right out of her grip. He, on the other hand, thought the kid ought to come with handles and instructions.
“He loves the water,” Tracy said without turning away from her charge. Josh splashed her and she squealed. After one startled moment, Josh chortled and slapped both hands into the water sending droplets everywhere.
The ache in Cort’s heart intensified. He hadn’t been able to coax a smile from his son, let alone make him laugh out loud.
Josh deserved better.
He grabbed a hand towel from the rack and stepped into the room to blot the moisture from Tracy’s face. “I’d like it, too, if I had a pretty lady scrubbing my back.”
A flush stained her pale neck and cheeks. “Aren’t you supposed to be assembling the crib?”
“Patrick’s getting the tools from the truck. I thought I might learn something in Bath 101.” He lowered the toilet lid. It wasn’t until after he sat down that he realized the room wasn’t big enough for two—three if you counted the squirt. His knees bracketed Tracy, and his mind took an X-rated detour. Unless he wanted to embarrass himself, now was not the time to fantasize about Tracy on her knees in front of him.
He blew out a slow breath and focused on her hair. She’d tortured it into that tight twist again, and it looked like only one pin held it in place. The urge to pull the pin and see the strands tumble over her shoulders nearly overwhelmed him. He twisted the towel in his hands.
He’d liked her hair long, and so did Josh. His son’s tiny fingers had played with the length of Tracy’s braid yesterday while she changed his diaper. He wouldn’t mind burying his own hands in the shiny strands to see if they were as soft as they looked.
He plucked at the collar of his knit shirt. The heat and humidity of the bathroom were getting to him. “You’re good with kids, and it’s clear you like them. Why don’t you have a houseful of your own by now?”
“I spent my childhood mothering my brothers and sisters. It’s time to put myself first. Kids aren’t a part of my plan.”
He wondered if his brothers had ever resented having to baby-sit him. Brand, Patrick and Caleb had been more like parents to him than his own father. He didn’t remember his mother. She’d left when he was two.
Josh wouldn’t remember his mother, either.
He shoved aside the sobering thought. “Do you put yourself first? From what Libby said, it sounds like you’re still combining the roles of platoon commander and Mother Teresa.”
“Libby talks too much. Grab that towel and take this wiggly fella.” She lifted Josh out of the water and turned.
The wet fabric of Tracy’s shirt clung to the lacy bra and the peachy skin underneath, distracting him from the chore she’d assigned him. His abdomen tightened. He sucked a deep breath to clear his head. Tracy’s sweet scent mingled with the baby bath soap to short-circuit a few of his brain cells.
“Cort?” She sounded breathless.
He snatched up the towel and snapped it open. Tracy pushed Josh into his arms, and her fingertips grazed his chest. He flinched. The woman packed the electric charge of a defibrillator, and every time she touched him his heart took a jolt. He bundled Josh in the towel, terrified he’d drop him.
“Cort, relax. Your tension transfers to him.” She kneaded his tense biceps, and other parts of his body tensed.
Sure enough, Josh’s smile vanished and his lip quivered. Cort couldn’t have been happier to hear Patrick’s boots on the outside stairs. He passed Josh back to Tracy, and his knuckles inadvertently brushed her breast.
She gasped, and their gazes locked.
He hated the wariness in her caramel-colored eyes. He swallowed hard and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Excuse me.”
Seducing Tracy was not part of his plan. He’d be in Texas less than three months, and Tracy deserved more than a quick roll in the hay. That was all he had to give. Even if he were staying longer, he wasn’t fool enough to offer another woman the opportunity to wipe her feet on his heart. “I’ll call when his crib’s ready.”
He hustled out of the tiny bathroom. What was the matter with him? It had to be the sheer terror over being responsible for Josh, causing the tension in his gut and making his brow sweat.
He feared he would bungle being a single father as badly as his dad had—only Josh didn’t have older brothers to pick up the slack.
Josh’s crying woke Tracy at two in the morning.
She lay in the darkness waiting for the baby to settle, but he seemed to grow more agitated as time passed. Before going to bed tonight she and Cort had agreed on a tentative schedule. This was Cort’s shift, but Josh had been crying for almost thirty minutes.
Throwing back the covers, she shrugged on her robe, climbed the inside stairs and knocked on the door. Cort didn’t answer. He couldn’t possibly sleep through the baby’s crying, could he? She turned the knob and, finding the door unlocked, stepped into the apartment.
Cort, wearing nothing but scrub pants riding low on his narrow hips, paced the den with Josh crying on his shoulder. Muscles rippled in Cort’s shoulders as he awkwardly patted and rubbed the baby’s stiff back.
She could have lived without the knowledge that he had dimples flanking the base of his spine. Adrenaline coursed through her blood, erasing the remnants of sleep from her brain and turning her insides to mush.
“It’s all right, kid. We’ll get the hang of this soon. Everybody says so. Just put up with me until then, okay?”
Josh’s piercing wail jerked her out of her hormonal stupor. No wonder Cort hadn’t heard her knocking. Before she could speak he reached the end of the room, turned and stopped in his tracks when he spotted her across his living room. “Damn. I’m sorry we woke you.”
“You shouldn’t swear in front of the baby,” she corrected automatically.
Even in the dimly lit room she couldn’t miss the well-defined muscles of his broad chest and shoulders. A small gold medallion glinted in the dark hair dusting his chest. Finer hair marked a path between his washboard abdominal muscles. She didn’t want to consider what he was—or wasn’t—wearing beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs. Cort had always been athletic, but ten years ago he’d been an eighteen-year-old boy. As a twenty-eight-year-old man, he’d matured beyond expectations.
Strange feelings stirred in her belly. She dampened her dry lips. “Did you change him and give him a bottle?”
“Yes to the diaper. No to the formula. The baby book says not to feed a nine-month-old more often than every six hours.” He grimaced. “It also says to let him cry himself back to sleep, but I tried that, and I can’t handle it.”
His dark curls went every which way, reminding her that he’d also been in bed. She looked through the open door beyond his shoulder to the rumpled sheets on his bed, and her stomach clenched. “Sometimes it’s best to ignore the books and go with your instincts. Would you like for me to fix his bottle?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, Trace, but if you think that’s what he needs I’ll take care of it. Leanna warned me to keep bottles already made in the fridge. You go back to bed.”
If she had half a functioning brain she’d do as he suggested, but Cort and Josh obviously needed her. “Let me help.”
She walked into the tiny kitchenette, opened the refrigerator and extracted a bottle. The cool air washed her hot cheeks. Lordy, the man exceeded every secret fantasy she’d ever dreamed up. Suddenly hot, she plucked at her robe.
While the formula heated in the bottle warmer she stepped closer to Cort and Josh and stroked a finger along the baby’s damp cheek. “Hi, fella.”
Josh whimpered and reached for her. After a second’s hesitation, Cort passed him to her. Her forearm brushed his bare chest as she took the baby, and the skin on her arm burned as if she’d pressed it against the radiator in her classroom. The fine hairs on her body stood on end, and her toes curled in her slippers.
Josh immediately buried his face in her neck and clutched handfuls of her hair.
Cort gently extricated the tiny fingers and as he did so, his fingertips brushed the skin of her shoulders and neck. She hoped he didn’t notice her goose bumps or the shiver she couldn’t suppress. “He likes you better. Can’t say I blame him.”
Her heart clenched at the pain lacing his voice, and her pulse raced at his half-naked proximity. “He’s probably accustomed to women taking care of him.”
He parked his hands on his hips, and his muscles flexed in a most distracting way. The urge to smooth his rumpled hair, to test the suppleness of his skin or to trace the line of dark curls bisecting his navel was difficult to ignore. But ignore it she would.
When Cort turned away to get the bottle, she laid a hand over her misbehaving heart and took a moment to gather herself and her wayward thoughts. Calm. In control. Professional. You are his nanny now. Act like one.
A fragment of common sense asserted itself. “Shake the bottle well to avoid hot spots and test it on the inside of your wrist to make sure it won’t burn his mouth.”
He did and then offered her the bottle, but she shook her head. He had to learn. “Sit down. You give it to him.”
Cort sat in the overstuffed chair, and Tracy placed Josh in his arms, being extra careful not to touch Cort’s bare skin during the transfer. Cort nudged the nipple against Josh’s lips, but the baby refused. “Come on, buddy. Fill your tank.”
Josh wailed. Both males were as tense as a newly strung clothesline. She touched a hand to her temples and looked skyward. Why me? Is this some kind of test? She blew out a long, slow breath.
“Relax, Cort, or he won’t either.” Knowing she’d probably regret it, she stepped behind the chair and kneaded Cort’s knotted shoulder muscles. The heat from his supple skin traveled from her fingertips to her breasts and thighs. Cort’s tension ebbed from him to her, swirling in the pit of her stomach and coiling around her chest. She almost groaned aloud when she identified the cause. Desire.
Obviously, she’d never gotten over her crush on Cort Lander, except now she had the adult, X-rated version dancing through her mind and shortening her breath.
As Cort’s muscles unwound, so did Josh’s. After one last whimper, the baby hungrily latched on to the bottle.
Cort exhaled. “Can’t say I blame you, kid. After the last hour I could use a drink myself.”
Tracy dropped her hands to her sides, wiping them on her gown as if she could erase the feel of him from her memory. She had no need for inhibition-relaxing alcohol. Her senses were already spinning out of control.
She wanted the impossible. She wanted Cort Lander. “Don’t forget to burp him.”
She let herself out of the apartment before she did something foolish.
Who’d have expected practical, down-to-earth Tracy to have magical fingers or hair as soft as satin sheets?
Cort smothered a yawn and blinked his tired, gritty eyes. He’d kept an erection for hours after she’d left last night, and consequently, he’d hit the snooze button on his alarm clock one time too many this morning.
“Okay, kid, let’s try this again.” He tucked a spoonful of baby mush between Josh’s lips. Josh promptly sprayed it all over him. Aw, hell. He’d have to change shirts, which meant he’d probably be late for his first day on the job.
“Can’t say I blame you. This stuff looks and smells like casting plaster.”
A tap on the inside door meant the cavalry had arrived. Remnants of last night’s dreams jolted his libido and heart into overdrive. “Come in.”
Tracy stepped over the threshold looking good enough to eat in jeans that hugged her hips and a peachy-colored top that reflected the blush on her freshly scrubbed cheeks. The thick braid of her cinnamon hair fell over her shoulder to loop around the tip of her breast like a lover’s tongue. Oh, man. He clenched his teeth on a groan.
Tracy took one look at the situation and shook her head. “I have Cheerios downstairs.”
Before he could say another word she vanished and his heart sank, but she reappeared seconds later and deposited an armload of stuff on the table. He could have kissed her for coming back. He was definitely out of his element here, but he wasn’t sure about the yellow box of cereal and the banana. “The book didn’t say anything about regular food.”
“Would you trust me on this one?” Her white teeth dug into her lush bottom lip, and he figured he’d probably agree to just about anything if she kept that up. Scraping a hand across his chin, he nodded. She had to know more about babies than he did, and he’d always been able to count on Tracy steering him in the right direction.
She set a bottle of stain remover on his side of the table and then scattered a few cereal rings on the high chair tray. Josh snatched them up, shoving them into his mouth as fast as a linebacker at a buffet. He greeted the banana with the same enthusiasm.
Tracy’s gaze traveled over him. “You’d better change and get out of here.”
“You’re right. Thanks for helping.” He stood and peeled off his shirt. Tracy inhaled swiftly. He hesitated. Did she feel the same fierce attraction that twisted his hormones into a pretzel? Or had he offended her? He started to shrug the shirt back on.
Her eyes were big and round and her cheeks bore a fresh wash of color. “It’s okay. I’ve seen a man without his shirt before. I’ve seen you without your shirt before.”
She’d seen him without more than his shirt that time she’d surprised him at the river. Did she remember? “So you have.”
Her gaze drizzled over him like melting caramel. Did she have any idea what a look like that did to a man? If he stood here long enough there’d be no doubt. He moved away from the table.
“Wait.” Tracy moved forward and reached for him. Every muscle in his body locked. She picked bits of cereal from his hair, his ear, his eyebrow, and her featherlight touches nearly drove him out of his mind.
He clamped his lips closed and tried to breathe normally. Her scent filled his senses. She stood so close that all he had to do was lift his hands a few inches to span her waist. But he wouldn’t. Casual friend-to-friend kisses and touches were one thing, but that wasn’t what he wanted right now. Need charged through his body like a pack of hungry dogs. Need that would go unfulfilled. He clenched his fists.
Her gaze met his and her smile slowly faded. She lowered her hands, wet her lips and glanced back toward Josh. Her throat worked as she swallowed once, twice, and a dark flush swept her cheekbones. There was no mistaking the sexual tension clogging the air.
She cleared her throat and busied herself with cleaning up his breakfast dishes. “Tomorrow, I’ll handle breakfast.”
The last thing he wanted was to ruin their friendship.
“Thanks.” His voice sounded as though he’d swallowed a handful of gravel. He beat a hasty retreat, eager, he was ashamed to admit, to get out of the house before he did something stupid like kiss her until they ended up naked and horizontal.
What he needed was a good dose of something that didn’t make him feel like a failure. Work. He had an exemplary bedside manner, and his diagnostic skills were superb, or so his instructors back at Duke had told him.
Obviously, Josh didn’t see the same qualities.
Cort shrugged on a clean shirt and tie. He’d never shirked hard work, but usually his diligence produced visible results. No such luck with Josh. The harder he tried, the worse the situation seemed to get with his son. The baby books were a prime example. He’d practically memorized the parenting books he’d found on Kate’s shelves only to have Tracy tell him to ignore them and follow his gut instinct.
Not a chance. He trusted his gut when it came to patients, but not with his personal life, because with Josh and Tracy his gut was one big knot of apprehension.
Three
Tracy’s heart quickened when Cort’s truck pulled into the driveway that evening.
Libby had dropped by earlier to soak up all the news about Cort and Josh, and she’d stayed long enough to fill Tracy’s mind with illicit suggestions regarding ways to convince her new tenant to stay in Texas. Seduce him, she’d said.
Tracy rolled her eyes. As if she’d know how to seduce anybody.
“Show him what he’s giving up by going back to Duke. It’s your last chance to hook the man of your dreams,” Libby had insisted.
Tracy shook her head. She would never deliberately quash someone’s dream. If Cort wanted to be a surgeon, then he ought to be a surgeon. He was her tenant. She was his nanny. She’d do best to remember that, but that didn’t mean she didn’t secretly wish she could be as bold as Libby suggested.
“Daddy’s home, sport.” Cort looked scrumptious in his dark suit and blinding-white shirt.
Josh took one look through the glass storm door at the man striding up the walk and buried his face in her neck. Cort witnessed the maneuver, and his confident stride faltered. Resignation settled over his features.
Tracy’s heart went out to him. She vowed to do whatever she could to bring father and son together. Plastering a smile on her face, she pushed open the door. “How was your day?”
“Not bad.” Satisfaction filled his voice. He lifted a hand toward Josh’s back, but then dropped it before making contact. “How about here?”
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