The Brennan Baby

“I’m sure your superficial charm is as effective with children as it is with women But that isn’t what—”

“Devlin, you are a dog,” the booming masculine voice interrupted her in midsentence. At that moment Cade rounded the bend, carrying an enormous cherry-red BarcaLounger recliner. His dark brows narrowed in an expression of disapproval at the sight of Devlin, lounging against the wall. “You knew if you wasted enough time, I’d drag this monster up here myself.”

Gillian moved quickly to stand against the opposite wall, ceding the right-of-way. Little Ashley made a loud crowing sound of delight, as if the sight of the big red chair pleased her.

Cade cast a startled glance at the child, and the baby smiled at him. Suddenly the chair slipped precariously in his hold. Devlin rushed over to grip the other side before it hit the floor.

Cade didn’t seem to even notice. “Is that your baby?” he asked Gillian, who nodded her head.

“How old is she?” Cade demanded to know.

“Eleven months.” Gillian began to inch away.

She appeared to be unnerved and Devlin couldn’t blame her. He found Cade’s insistent interrogation to be vaguely embarrassing, not to mention peculiar. Then again, maybe it wasn’t peculiar to Cade, Dev conceded. He didn’t know his brother-in-law all that well; maybe the man quizzed everybody in his path as a matter of course.

“Any other information you need to know, Cade?” Dev asked jokingly, trying to ease the tension that seemed to emanate tangibly from Gillian. He didn’t want her to be scared of his brother-in-law! “The kid’s birth weight, her blood type? Maybe her cereal preference?” He smiled at Gillian, inviting her to share in the humor. She did not smile back.

Cade’s frown deepened.

“Gillian, this is my brother-in-law, Cade Austin.” Dev felt obliged to make an introduction as an explanation for all the questions. “Cade, Gillian Bailey.”

“A close friend of yours, I presume,” Cade intoned darkly.

A delicate shade of pink colored Gillian’s cheeks. “I wouldn’t say that we’re friends,” she murmured.

“More like ex-acquaintances who decided to pass on friendship.” Dev was flippant. “She is also my new neighbor. Gillian just told me that yesterday she and the baby moved into the apartment across the hall from mine.” He inclined his head toward Gillian’s door.

She winced. She couldn’t have made her displeasure with the situation more obvious if she’d shouted it aloud for all to hear.

Devlin frowned, irked. Though he was hardly thrilled by the prospect of living in such close proximity to an ex-girlfriend, he knew he could handle it. And if he could, so could she. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d dumped her, turning her into a hurt and angry rejectee. She had been the one to break up with him. And shortly after, she’d married another man.

Not that he had been hurt or angry, not that he’d felt rejected, Dev assured himself. He had been surprised, yes, but he hadn’t really minded. There were plenty of women here in the lively university town of Ann Arbor, more than enough women working within the behemoth medical center to give him easy access to Gillian replacements. He hadn’t had a bit of trouble finding them, either, during the twenty months since their breakup.

Not that he was keeping count, of either the months or the women.

“You’ll be living across the hall from each other?” Cade’s gaze, laserlike in its intensity, traveled from Devlin to Gillian to the baby.

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Devlin stated the obvious. He’d had enough of the conversation. “Let’s get the chair inside.” He began walking toward his front door. Since Cade held the other half of the chair, he either had to drop it or go along.

Gillian watched the two men tote the chair into Devlin’s apartment, then quickly opened her own door and disappeared inside, clutching baby Ashley in her arms.

“We have to move!” She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her face flushed, her knees suddenly weak and wobbly.

“Bite your tongue!” drawled the tall, blond young man, deeply tanned with sculpted muscles, who was sprawled across the sofa, sipping from a bottle of flavored iced tea. “We just moved you and the baby and all your stuff in here yesterday. Your next move isn’t supposed to occur until the end of the millenium.”

Ashley bucked and wriggled, and Gillian set her down on the floor. The baby stood alone for a moment, then took a few unsteady steps before deciding that good old-fashioned crawling provided the fastest means of locomotion. She took off on all fours at an impressive speed, heading for the small kitchen.

A voluptuous olive-skinned young woman with a thick mane of raven-black hair stood peeling carrots at the sink. She kept one eye on the approaching baby while studying Gillian. “What’s the matter, Gilly? You look shook.”

“Devlin Brennan is moving in across the hall, Carmen,” Gillian managed to choke out the words in a tight little voice. “I can’t stay here.” She appealed to the young man for support, her blue eyes anguished. “Mark, you know I can’t.”

“But, sweetie, you’ve been on the waiting list for this place for nearly two years and you finally got in. The rent is right, the location is right.” Mark’s tone was a mixture of sympathy and practicality. “You can’t just up and leave, not even if Satan himself is living next door.”

“I agree with Mark,” Carmen put in. “You can’t leave the day after moving in, Gilly. Where will you go? All the decent places are taken by now and you know that rents anywhere else are a lot higher than what you’ll pay here.”

“After all, this building is subsidized housing for hospital employees,” Mark reminded her. “And since you are one, you deserve to be here. Much more than Dr. Swoon across the hall,” he added with a disdainful sniff. “That rich yango could live anywhere else. Why doesn’t he?”

“He—he’s not rich” Gillian automatically defended Devlin, without knowing why. “He’s a resident doctor in orthopedics, still in training, and they get paid, but not all that much. Plus, he has loans to pay off from med school”

“My heart bleeds for him!” Mark exclaimed, giving his long blond hair a melodramatic toss. “After he finishes his residency, it will probably take one entire ski season, fixing bones broken on the slopes, for him to pay off his loans. Then he can start accumulating the typical yango props. The glam car, the ritzy golf club memberships, the palatial house. And let’s not forget—”

“I want to forget everything about him, Mark,” Gillian cut in. “Past, present and future.”

Mark sighed. “That won’t be easy with him right next door Uh-oh, Carmen, watch out. Ashley is almost under your feet.”

“Hi, Ashley! Did you come to see Aunt Carmen?” Carmen scooped up Ashley, who’d arrived in the kitchen and was circling her ankles. “What was Devlin Brennan’s reaction when he saw the baby?” she asked, turning curious dark eyes toward Gillian.

“He wondered why every mother seems to name her daughter Ashley these days,” Gillian said flatly.

“Not even a flicker of some kind of primal recognition?” asked Mark, his lips tightening in disapproval. “Honestly! The man has all the sensitivity of a Neanderthal.”

“I forget—is a Neanderthal more or less sensitive than a yango, Mark?” Gillian teased in a blatant attempt to change the subject.

“This is no laughing matter, Gillian,” Mark scolded.

“Then let’s find a matter to laugh about.”

“In Dr. Brennan’s defense, he would have to be psychic to guess that Ashley is his daughter,” said Carmen, sticking to the subject anyway. “After all, Gillian never even told him she was pregnant. Nobody would know who Ashley’s father is, not even us, if she hadn’t let us in on the deep dark secret.”

Gillian sighed. “I wish I’d never mentioned his name to anyone,” she muttered.

“You couldn’t keep it to yourself, Gilly,” Carmen said kindly. “And you did the right thing. As soon as you found out about the baby, you engineered that marriage of convenience to Mark.”

Mark blew Gillian a kiss, and the mood in the room lightened considerably. “Anything to help my favorite foster sister.”

“She’s your favorite foster sister?” Carmen feigned indignation. “What about me?”

“Did I say she was my only favorite?” teased Mark. “You’re both my favorites. Along with Debra and Stacey and Suzy and—”

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Carmen interrupted good-naturedly. “You have lots of favorite foster sisters.”

“I only hope I don’t have to marry them all.” Mark stroked his dimpled chin, looking pensive. “Even when it’s on paper only, a marriage is kind of hard to explain to my friends back in L.A.”

“I can imagine,” Carmen said, with feeling. “Even a cover marriage makes me want to run away screaming.”

“Gillian and I had a very amiable cover marriage and an equally friendly divorce,” said Mark. “But, oh, the teasing I’ve had to take about it! You simply can’t imagine!”

“Well, it’s all over now, and I’m sure you won’t have to endure any other cover marriages, Mark,” Gillian soothed. “At our ripe old age of twenty-six, I’m surely the only one stupid enough to—”