The Baby Invasion (Destiny Bay-Baby Dreams) (14 page)

Love. What a joke! He’d have to watch it. He’d have to be extra careful.

A cruel twist of fate, that was what it was. For the first time in his life he’d met a woman he could love.
 
And just for laughs, the powers that be had thrown a handful of children into the mix. Just to make things interesting. They were like that.

Well, he’d been forewarned. He was an adult now. He knew how to tally up the columns and come out with the figures. He knew what the score was, and he knew what not to do.
 

He couldn’t fall in love with Cathy. He wouldn’t fall in love with her. Because to do so would be to descend into a hell he’d sworn to avoid. And so, being a smart guy, he would do all he could to avoid it.

But he could talk to her, couldn’t he? He could tell her...

“I told you I had six brothers and sisters. I was like an extra parent to them. And when I left, some of them took it rather personally. They felt betrayed.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I can understand that. It took me some time to adjust to the outside world, some time to get my bearings. I didn’t contact anyone at home for over four years. After college, I joined the Marines and I was working hard, totally focused on making it. Becoming a pilot.
 
And when I finally did go home for a visit, I got the cold shoulder.”

She waited, and when he didn’t go on she asked, “How about the next time? How did they treat you once you were all older?”

“There was no next time. I never went back.”

“Oh, Scott.” Cathy felt sick. All her life, she would have done anything for a family like the one Scott had grown up in. And he’d turned his back on it, not even making an effort to get it back.

“I’ve got all my Carrington cousins in Destiny Bay,” he reminded her.
 
“I’ve gotten close to some of them over the years.
 
But as for my brothers and sisters, that’s another story.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly.
 

“Hey, enough about that old depressing stuff. What do I need with family, anyway? I’ve got friends.” His grin was provocative. “Like you. We are going to get back to working on that friends business, aren’t we?”

Something shivered in her as she remembered the last time they’d talked about this. But he obviously didn’t take it seriously. So neither would she. “If you want.”

He nodded a bit abstractedly. They slowed as they went through a tiny town that was no more than a gas station and a few windblown, fallen-down houses. They gathered speed once outside the town limits. Scott glanced at her.
 

“If we’re going to be friends, I think it’s only fair that you fill me in on the facts—on where you stand with the father of those kids. Like, where he is. When he comes around. What happened.”

She didn’t want to do that. She was trying hard to erase Joey from her memory. Ever since she’d met Scott, it seemed Joey was hanging around the fringes of every conversation, just waiting to be invited in.
 

“I don’t think you really need my whole life story,” she said stiffly.

“I didn’t ask for your life story. Not yet.” He pulled to the shoulder to let a sports car pass, then resumed the right lane. The van lumbered along, slow but steady.

“I can’t help but think,” he went on, “that the father of all those little blond monsters—uh, tykes comes into the picture somewhere. Now, if we’re going to be friends...”

She took a deep breath and put on a false smile. “Oh all right, friend. What do you want to know?”

“Just tell me who he is and where he is.” His grin was rueful. “Barnaby’s already informed me that his daddy could beat me up anytime.”

Cathy’s head snapped around. “What?”

“And that he’s already hit six home runs. What does that mean?”

She sighed. Barnaby, her poor baby. “Their father is a professional baseball player.”

Scott groaned. “I was afraid of that.” He watched her face. “A real hero, huh?”

She hesitated. “Some people think so.” She stopped herself. No, that wasn’t fair. “I thought so, too, at one time, I have to admit. In many ways Joey—“

“Joey Feenstra?” The name had finally rung clear in Scott’s head. “
The
Joey Feenstra? Plays for the New York Stars?”

She nodded.

He groaned again.

“What’s the matter?”

“You’ve got to admit, that’s pretty intimidating.”

She wasn’t sure she understood. “Why?”

He shook his head ruefully. “We men have a thing about sports heroes.”

She knew that was true. And Joey had played it for all it was worth. “I don’t know why.”

“Sure you do. Even Barnaby knows it. He threw it in my face right away. He wanted me to know I wasn’t as good as his dad, never could be.”

She moved uncomfortably. She wasn’t about to sit here and tell him, in front of the children, sleeping or not, that he was twice the man Joey Feenstra was. Even though, from what she knew of him so far, it was true.

“But who cares, anyway? There’s no point to that. Who cares whether you’re as good as Joey? It doesn’t have anything to do with anything.” She turned and looked at him. “Does it?”

He looked back, his eyes dark and enigmatic. “Of course not.”

Their gazes held until Scott had to look back at the road. Cathy wasn’t sure what it had meant, what had been communicated between the two of them. She only knew she was tingling and a little short of breath. She blinked hard and tried to ignore it. In a rush, she decided to tell Scott the truth.

“Well, as far as wondering if Joey’s going to walk through the door any minute,” she told him, her voice as low as she could manage, “you can relax. It’s not a possibility.”

“Oh no?”

“The kids haven’t seen him in over a year. They got presents on their birthdays and at Christmas. But I think the team manager picked them out. I know it wasn’t Joey’s handwriting on the cards.”

Scott could hear the anger in her voice. He answered softly. “Not your All-American-Greatest-Dad.”

She sighed and glanced back to make sure the kids were still asleep and not overhearing this conversation.
 

“No. In fact, the reason he left in the first place was because he couldn’t handle having these children. He decided if I wanted kids, I could have them. But he wasn’t going to hang around and be miserable just to make me happy. He wasn’t going to live that way. So he left. I doubt if he’ll ever be back.”

Her voice was resigned now. He couldn’t detect any lingering bitterness, except when she talked about how he’d treated his children.
 

“That’s pretty hard on the kids,” he ventured, ready to draw back if she was offended by his opinion.

But she wasn’t. She was open and honest now, not hiding anything. “Of course it is. It’s horrible.”

‘’How do they feel about him?”

“They still love him. What choice do they have? But he’s becoming a distant figure, more and more shadowy. Barnaby has built a fantasy around him. Beth is more realistic.” A smile crept into her voice. “She thinks she’s going to help me find a replacement.”

“Oh?”

“Didn’t you notice? She’s been eyeing you for the job.”

Scott laughed, half-embarrassed. “Oh no. I’m trying out for Friend, not Father.”

Cathy was watching his reaction. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “The last thing I would ever do is marry someone who wasn’t as crazy about kids as I am. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good.” He said the word, but something inside him wanted to say more. He wanted to protest, to claim he didn’t hate children all that much. But he kept quiet. He glanced over and his gaze met hers and a current flashed between them. They were all alone. The children were asleep. The sky was black, the road was empty. It was only them, all alone in the universe.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and husky. “You’re not getting any sleep.”

“No.” Her smile wavered a bit. “But I’m nice and relaxed,” she claimed.

“Does that seat recline better than that?”

“Not really.
 
It’s old and cranky.”
 
She hesitated.
 
“Actually, we have a pad that can cover the panel area between the seats.”
 
She pulled part of it out from under her seat to show him.
 
“We used to rig it so that one of us could lie down on long car trips to ball games in distant cities.”

“What about the seat belt?”

“There’s a special one for when we set it up that way.”

He shrugged.
 
“Go ahead.”

She frowned.
 
“It won’t bother you to have me snoring away right next to you like that?”

He grinned.
 
“Are you kidding?”

She pulled the pad out and began to adjust it into a sleeping arrangement.
 
“Okay,” she said as she lowered the arm rest on her chair and leaned down to try it.
 
“Here I go.”

He glanced down at her as she tried to get comfortable.
 
It wasn’t exactly the perfect solution, but it looked workable.
 
Still, she looked cramped and uncomfortable and her legs were doubled in an awkward way.
 

“Here,” he said, lowering his own arm rest.
 
“Scrunch up here. Put your head in my lap.”

“Oh. No, I don’t think—“

“Come on.” He reached out and tugged her arm. “I won’t bite. And I want you to get some real sleep. I’m not going to last behind the wheel forever.”

Suddenly she was shy. There was something so intimate about lying there with her head in his lap, her body stretched out beside him. And sleeping while he watched over her—that was some sort of ultimate in trust, wasn’t it? She looked back at the children, then slowly, reluctantly, she slid down.

His jeans smelled fresh and clean and the slight roughness of the denim fabric rubbed deliciously against her cheek as she put her head down, tentatively, against his thigh.

This was impossible. She couldn’t fall asleep, not here. Not touching him this way. His leg was hard and she could feel the interplay of muscles when he moved it slightly as he drove. Excitement tingled through her. She didn’t remember ever being so aware of a man before. She lay very still, all she could really see was his knee, and yet she sensed him fully, his strength, his maleness.

Was she blinded by her physical reaction to him? Maybe. And yet, he was driving them to Lake Tahoe, wasn’t he? He was helping her without the usual third degree, without recriminations and a lot of hurtful comments on how dumb her plan must be.

She felt his hand slip into her hair and she shuddered with a sensation of delight. His hand stilled.

“Sorry. Does this bother you?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered. “No, not at all. I…I like it.”

His hand moved again, gathering up her hair, caressing her softly. He looked down and almost groaned with pleasure at the sight of her. She looked so lovely. He was overcome by a wave of tenderness such as he’d never felt before. Her hair was spread out over her shoulders, over his thigh. It was like capturing an angel in his hand. He couldn’t resist touching her. He couldn’t help wanting her.

And he couldn’t help but have fantasies. He thought of how she had tasted, and he drew in a ragged breath. Lord, his heart was beating. Could she feel it? He forced himself to breathe more slowly, easily, to control his wild pulse. He loved her being there, loved feeling her face against his thigh, loved the silk of her hair in his hand. They had to find time to be alone soon. Anticipation was getting to be an obsession with him. This drive was lasting forever.

She sighed. Her eyes were drifting shut. She’d thought when she first put her head down that she would never be able to sleep this way. He was much too male, much too exciting. But now her eyes were closing. Her legs and arms were growing heavy. She knew she was about to fall asleep. It had been a long time since she’d fallen asleep with a smile on her lips. But she did so now.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Breakfast in Mammoth

In the morning, the mood in the van was completely different from last night’s. They were still thirty minutes out of Mammoth and all the children were awake—and fussing.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Barnaby said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“We just stopped in Bishop. Can’t you hold out until Mammoth?” Cathy answered.

“No!”

The babies were crying, every one of them. Cathy had crawled back, changed their diapers, dressed them in clean playsuits and given each a little bit of formula. But they seemed to be tired of traveling.

“They’re just getting their morning exercise,” Scott told Cathy blithely. “Once they’ve done their forty laps, they’ll quiet down.”

She looked at him in amazement. How could he stay so calm? Even she was getting frazzled.

Beth had got into a whiny mood that was unusual for her. “Can’t you get the babies to stop crying?” she kept complaining.

Beanie was cranky, too, sputtering and throwing away every toy Cathy tried to hand him.

“Move his seat up here next to me,” Scott suggested. “It’s time the two of us had a good talk.”

Cathy did so, strapping him in, marveling again at Scott’s good humor. He hadn’t had much sleep. She’d driven between Little Lake and Bishop, and he’d dozed a bit, his head on her lap this time.

It was interesting how the exchange of laps had worked out. It had put them on a much more intimate basis. She felt closer to him. His smiles were warmer, more open. Whenever she looked at him, she wanted to reach out and touch him, trail a finger across his cheek or press her palm to his temple for a second. Of course, she didn’t do it. But the impulse was there.

She sat in the back and patted babies, watching Scott and Beanie interact in the front. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she could see Scott laughing, see Beanie clapping his hands and bouncing in his chair. Suddenly that childhood fantasy came back to haunt her, the one with the husband/father who looked just like Scott. He would be so perfect!