For Baby's Sake

“Which leaves you.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be legally compelled by a will you knew nothing about.”

“I know. My lawyer made that clear. But how can I let her go to foster care and the adoptive system? How would I live with myself?”

“There’s time to think about it. You can’t solve everything in one night.”

When Lila tried to hop down from the counter, he stopped her. “I may not have gotten all the glass. Hold still.” He took her by the waist again, swung her over the sticky area and set her in the doorway. “Do you want me to get you another glass of milk?”

Lila shook her head. “No. I’m good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I have a housekeeper who comes in at ten. I’ve told her to avoid the guest room and my office for the time being.”

“I’m inconveniencing you. Why won’t you let me go to a hotel?”

“I think I owe you one.” He hadn’t meant to be so honest. Something about her demeanor tonight sneaked past his defenses.

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You don’t owe me anything, James. Really. We both made mistakes. And it was a long time ago.”

“Okay. Fair enough. But quit worrying about everything so much. You’ll be back in your own house before you know it.”

Five (#ulink_b8f14769-e0a3-570b-93fe-b74f6c61c942)

As it turned out, James’s prediction was wildly optimistic. The day after the milk incident, she barely saw him at all other than the times she peeked out the window and watched him going in and out of her house. He had ordered a Dumpster and had it delivered right outside. It was slowly filling with chunks of Sheetrock and pieces of wallpaper.

He had told Lila she and Sybbie would have to be displaced only two nights, but at dinner that first night—lasagna prepared by his wonderful housekeeper before she left—he sat down at the table and ran a hand through his hair, his expression agitated.

“What’s wrong, James?” He’d never been good at hiding his feelings. “Is it going to take longer than you thought?”

He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “I might have run into a bit of a snag today.”

Sybbie didn’t like having Lila’s attention elsewhere. She wailed until Lila gave her another bite of bread. “Go ahead and tell me,” Lila said. “I can handle bad news.”

“You have termites.”

She blinked at him. “Say that again?”

“Termites.”

“But I have a pest control service.”

“That’s a good thing, because they’ll have to repair the damage at their own expense. You still have termites, though. I can’t work on the renovation until we take care of that.”

Her throat got tight and her eyes burned. She was trying so hard to stay positive, but this was a kick in the stomach. “What do I need to do?”

His gaze softened. “You don’t have to do anything, Lila, except take care of this little sweetheart.” He tickled Sybbie’s neck and was rewarded with a smile. “I’ll handle your house issues. I’ve seen worse.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Too late.” His grin blinded her. “You’ve already hired me.”

“To do a modest renovation, not to rip out all my walls.”

“Don’t be a drama queen.”

She felt her temper rise and had to tamp it down. He was teasing her...that’s all. An old habit. Perhaps the reason she and James had fought so much when they were together was because the making up afterward had been so much fun. But that wasn’t going to happen this time around. Which meant she couldn’t let him press her buttons.

“How long are we talking about?”

“If your termite people are on the ball, not long. They’ll have to do a major treatment. The more pressing issue is whether or not you have termites anywhere else.”

She hadn’t even thought of that implication. “People told me not to buy an old house. I should have listened.”

“Oh, come on, Lila. You know you love the place.”

“I do. But I don’t want it falling down around my ears.”

Having an infant at the table made adult conversation difficult. By unspoken consent, they tabled the termite talk and played with the baby. Wistfully, Lila watched James interact with Sybbie. Maeve Kavanagh had raised seven sons, mostly on her own. She had instilled in them the value of hard work and what it meant to be a gentleman.

To an outsider, the Kavanagh men might seem very different from one another. But under the skin—beneath the superficial differences of physical appearance and career choice—they each were carbon copies when it came to their character. Alpha males one and all. Tough, uncompromising. Committed to doing what was right even when the choice was difficult.

Hence her stint camping out in James’s guest room.

“Tell me something,” she said impulsively.

He looked up, his beautiful brown eyes regarding her with a hint of reserve. Maybe he thought she was going to give him grief about last night. “What is it? What do you want to know? I’m an open book.”

That wasn’t exactly true. He seemed like an open book, but she had a feeling she had only scratched the surface when it came to understanding James Kavanagh.

“Are you still looking for your father’s remains?”

“Where the hell did that come from?” Anger flashed in his gaze, warning her to tread lightly. But surely this was the key. Something about a son without a father and James’s insistence on having children. It wasn’t the kind of thing most guys who were barely thirty fixated on.

She handed Sybbie a small bite of banana. “When you and I were together, you spent a lot of weekends out in the woods. Searching. And every time you came home, I got the feeling you were upset. But I was always afraid to ask you.”

“Afraid? Of me?”

“I’m talking about your state of mind. When you came to pick me up for dates and you had been out on the mountain, I sensed a wildness in you, as if you were barely under control. Am I wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about my father.” His tone said back off.

“I never knew my father either, James, not really. It’s a sad way to grow up. But at least you have a fabulous mother...and all your siblings.”

“If you think I’m fixated on a bastard who deserted his family, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

She inhaled sharply. James spoke as if the wound was fresh. When in fact, it had happened almost three decades ago. “He didn’t desert you.”