Groom On The Loose

“You have a baby,” he pointed out unnecessarily. The whimpering had grown in volume. Obviously the child was tuning up for a whole new chorus of tears.

“That’s right,” she said. Bouncing the baby on her hip, she opened the refrigerator door and stowed the bottles inside. “But don’t worry. Nothing, not even a baby, is going to interfere with my hostessing duties. Now I’m going to just pop outside and check on—”

“Cassie,” he said, interrupting her again. “Whose baby is it?”

She bit her lip, looking uncertain. “Well, I suppose…she’s mine.”

Greg closed his eyes and counted to ten. He only got to three before the baby’s howls interrupted him. He glared at the pair. “This is a joke, right?”

“No joke,” Cassie said, her voice catching. Tears, matching those streaming down the baby’s cheeks, filled her eyes. “She really is mine.”

He tried hard to fight it, but failed. An ill-advised bout of sympathy rocked him. He hated to see anyone—even Cassie—cry. He shook his head. “Cassie, Cassie, Cassie…what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

She tried to blink away the tears, but only succeeded in sending a stray drop tumbling down her cheek. She sniffed loudly, attracting more curious glances from the catering staff.

Greg shifted uncomfortably, feeling like a cad, as though he were to blame for Cassie’s uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“I haven’t gotten myself into anything. A friend of mine has died…and I’ve been named guardian of her daughter.” Trepidation filled her eyes as she looked at the crying baby. “Now Jessica’s all mine.”

Cassie? A mother? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Greg stared at her, unable to believe the explanation. With the exception of her party planning service, Cassie had never been able to make a commitment to anything, or anyone, in her life. And now she wanted to raise a baby? The whole idea was preposterous.

Greg glanced at the kitchen clock—11:55. His guests would be arriving at any moment. Now wasn’t the time to remind Cassie of her many shortcomings. “Look, maybe we should discuss this later, when we have more time. Right now we need to talk about the party.”

“I’ve already told you, I still plan to help—”

“How?” He waved a hand at the wailing baby, who’d paused long enough to suck in a breath of air before letting loose with another, even louder, cry. “I’d say you’ve got your hands full already.”

Cassie’s shoulders drooped defeatedly. She looked close to giving in to the threatening tears. “I’m sorry, Greg. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

Guilt took aim and struck him directly in the heart. Dealing with a vulnerable Cassie Andrews was a new and unsettling experience. He wanted the old Cassie. The spirited, outspoken Cassie. The annoyingly self-assured woman he’d counted on to pull off his party.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, hoping to avoid more tears. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

She sent him a watery gaze. “Do you think so?”

He nodded. “I know so. First thing we’ve got to do is stop this crying.”

“I don’t know. I think there’s something really wrong with her. Some baby disease, or worse.” Cassie glanced at the baby, her expression worried. “She’s been crying nonstop since I picked her up.”

He’d meant Cassie’s tears. He decided to let the misunderstanding slide. “Hey, if there’s one thing I know, it’s baby diseases,” he assured her. “Why don’t I have a look at her?”

He reached for Jessica.

Cassie hesitated. Then, reluctantly, she placed the squirming bundle into his outstretched arms. With the ease wrought of experience, he rested the child against one shoulder, patting her back in soothing strokes. Instantly Jessica’s cries subsided.

Cassie stared at them, her lower lip trembling. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with her. It’s me. She just doesn’t like me.”

Greg grimaced. Cassie, it would seem, was on the verge of losing total control. If he wanted a hostess for his party, he’d better think of something, and fast. Forcing a soothing tone, he said, “Babies can sense stress. New moms always go through a period of adjustment. Once you feel more comfortable with Jessica, you will be fine.”

The doorbell rang.

They both froze.

“The guests,” Cassie gasped, glancing around the bustling kitchen. “Oh, no! What are we going to do?”

Sending Cassie and her baby packing seemed like the most viable course of action. Jessica squirmed in his arms, as though sensing impending trouble. Cassie’s terrified gaze brought a new lump of emotion to his throat. He looked at the pair and knew that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t toss them out. Like it or not he needed Cassie’s help as much as she needed his.

“This is what we’re going to do,” he said, taking charge, an unusual phenomenon in dealing with Cassie. “You take care of the party. I’ll take care of Jessica.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Greg—”

“Listen to me, Cassie. If there’s one thing I know about it’s kids,” he said firmly. He forced a smile. “Trust me, it’ll work.”

She made a disgusted face, a shimmer of the old Cassie shining through. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.” He grabbed her hand and led her toward the front door.

Cassie dug in her heels. “What about Jessica? How are we going to explain her to your guests?”

Greg considered the tiny girl in his arms. He had to admit, she looked irresistible, with her curly tufts of sandy-colored hair, her baby blue eyes, and her soft, rosebud lips. She blessed him with a smile, and Greg nearly lost his heart. He gave a wistful sigh. If only grown women were this uncomplicated, they’d be so much easier to handle.

He frowned. The thought of getting through the day pretending to be romantically involved with Cassie was a daunting enough task. Adding Jessica to the mix seemed impossible.

“We won’t. Explain about her, that is,” he said finally. “The less my guests know about Jessica, the better. No need to complicate matters any more than they already are. You’re supposed to be my date. We’re going to have a hard enough time convincing everyone to believe that story.”

Cassie straightened her shoulders. A look of pure indignation lit her dark eyes, replacing the uncertainty. “Are you saying you don’t think I can handle the job?”

Greg struggled to control his temper. “What I’m saying is that whenever you’re around, trouble usually follows.”

Angry color touched her cheeks. She opened her mouth to give him what he was sure would be an angry retort.

Only, the doorbell rang…again.

Greg muttered an oath. “We don’t have time for an argument. Are you ready?”

“Of course I’m ready,” she snapped.

“Great,” he muttered, reaching for the doorknob. He paused, giving her a cursory inspection. “Smile. Remember, we’re supposed to be a happy couple.”

Cassie’s smile looked more like a grimace—with teeth. But at least it was a start. Scowling, Greg threw open the door.

Fellow pediatrician Bob Ryder and his wife, Sandy, stood on his doorstep. They returned his stormy gaze with uneasy glances.

Remembering his own advice, Greg forced a smile. “Bob, Sandy, good to see you. Come in.”

Bob, a short man with a round face, and his wife, a tall, slender brunette, stepped inside. Bob gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “For a minute there, I was afraid we had the wrong day.”

“No, no,” Greg said, still smiling. He shifted Jessica’s warm weight in his arms. “We had to deal with a minor crisis in the kitchen. But everything’s fine now. Just fine.”