Special Deliveries: Wanted: A Mother For His Baby: The Nanny Trap / The Baby Deal / Her Real Family Christmas

Bella gave him a wry smile. “At his age you can sit him in the kitchen with a pot and a wooden spoon to bang on it and he would be perfectly content.”

Blake pictured the myriad of toys that crowded his son’s room and realized what Bella said was completely true. Everything engaged Drew’s imagination, from a brightly colored train that played songs when he pressed its buttons to a stainless-steel pot that made a racket when he banged on it.

“The beach sounds nice. Mind if I join you?”

Her smile was shy as she answered, “That would be nice.”

“We can go out for lunch later.”

“I’m sure Drew would like that.” The phone strapped to her upper arm began to buzz. She unfastened the band and eyed the screen. “It’s my brother. Excuse me for a second.”

She got up from the table and strode out of the kitchen. Blake’s gaze followed her departing form until Drew banged on his tray to get his father’s attention.

“More banana?” Blake sliced the fruit for his son, then turned his attention to Bella’s low voice.

“Another nine hundred?” she quizzed, her tone concerned. “But I already gave you five to buy the truck. What is the nine hundred for?” A long pause followed her question. “Is that the cheapest quote you got?” More silence. “I realize that the truck does you no good if it doesn’t run. Okay. I’ll see what I can do about the money.” Her voice grew louder as she approached. “Elephant shoes,” she said as she sat back down. With a sigh, she disconnected the call.

“That’s a strange way to say goodbye.”

She offered him a wan grin. “It’s a family joke.”

“Feel like telling me about it?” Blake buttered more toast and set it on her plate, then pushed the bowl of preserves her way.

“It started with my parents.” Her mood perked up as she began her tale. “They met through 4-H when they were teenagers, but lived in towns an hour apart so they didn’t go to the same high school. But their schools competed against each other in football and basketball. My dad played both.” Bella slathered preserves on her toast and cast a wry look Blake’s way. “Naturally, my mom was a cheerleader so she was always rooting against my dad.”

Blake had little trouble picturing the atmosphere in the small-town gymnasium where rivalries were fierce between the various communities. “Nothing like a little competition to keep things interesting.”

“And apparently things were very interesting. My parents’ senior year, Dad and some of his teammates crashed my mom’s homecoming dance. I guess things got a little out of hand and my dad ended up getting his nose broken by his best friend when Dad stepped in to protect my mom from being hassled.”

“And the rest is history?”

Bella shook her head. “Not even close. It became a Romeo and Juliet story. The two high schools were always pretty contentious, but after the fight at the homecoming dance, things got even worse.”

“So your parents were star-crossed lovers?”

“Something like that. Anyway, they had to keep their romance a secret, and when they met in public, instead of saying ‘I love you,’ they’d say ‘elephant shoes.’”

Her wistful grin told him the story had great meaning for her, but the punch line eluded him. “Why elephant shoes?”

“Read my lips.” She paused a beat. “Elephant shoes. See?”

Lost in the pleasure of watching her mouth form the words, he neglected to notice what she was trying to tell him. “Sorry, I missed it. Do it again.”

She rolled her eyes, but complied. “Elephant shoes.”

This time he paid attention and the message came through loud and clear. “It looks like you’re saying ‘I love you,’” he said with a short laugh. “Very clever.”

“My mother came up with it.”

Drew banged his palms on the high-chair tray and made happy noises, adding to the cheery vibe surrounding the small table.

“I think he likes the story, as well,” Blake said with a chuckle. He caught a glimpse of the clock. They’d lingered over breakfast for more than an hour. Once again Bella’s stories made time vanish. How could she be so against having a family of her own when hers was such an integral part of her life?

Blake was pouring a third cup of coffee as Mrs. Farnes approached the table and began to clear the dishes.

Bella got to her feet. “Let me help.”

“No, dear. You’ve got enough to keep you busy.” She nodded to Drew, who was busy smashing scrambled eggs and banana into his hair.

“Oh, Drew.” Bella ran for a washcloth. By the time she returned, Mrs. Farnes had swept the last bits of food from the tray. “Thanks for your help,” she told the housekeeper. “It really does take a village.” Bella caught one of Drew’s chubby hands and began applying the wet cloth. “I can’t imagine how my mother did it. Before I was old enough to help, she had to handle three children under the age of six all on her own.”

“Sounds like you grew up fast,” Blake said, amused at the faces his son made while Bella cleaned food from his hair.

While Mrs. Farnes kept an eye on him, Bella and Blake ran upstairs for some warmer clothes. Although the day was heating up, the breeze on the beach would be cool, and she didn’t want Drew catching cold on her watch. Blake followed Bella and Drew outside, a blanket and some plastic beach toys in his arms.

Because his house sat on five acres of land, the stretch of beach in front of his property didn’t see a lot of traffic. Bella spread out the blanket on the soft white sand and sat Drew in the middle of it. Blake lay on his side, his position perfect to watch both Bella and Drew. The infant showed little interest in the beauty surrounding them, preferring to focus his attention on the sand. This meant they had to watch him like a hawk, because he was determined to fill his mouth with handfuls of sand.

“Last night,” Blake began.

Bella thrust her hand up, forestalling him. “I did some thinking.”

“As did I.”

“Me first,” she insisted, determined to lay her cards on the table. “I imagine the idea of trusting another woman with your heart is unnerving.”

His eyebrows twitched upward at her opening salvo. “It’s positively terrifying,” he retorted dryly.

She plowed on, ignoring his sarcasm. “You have to know that every woman in your social circle is going to set her sights on you.”

“I am quite a catch.” He was playing with her, letting her lead the conversation instead of demanding she get to the point.

“Yes, you are.” Bella paused, her gaze on the horizon, her thoughts elsewhere.

“Bella?” he prompted. “Were you done making your point?”

His question jolted her back on track. “Not quite.” She pulled the shovel out of Drew’s mouth and demonstrated how it could be used to dig in the sand. “You are also the most guarded person I’ve ever met. You have to be doubly so after your divorce.”

Blake could tell she was winding up to deliver a knockout punch and awaited the results with keen interest. What notions had she bandied about in that adorable brain of hers these last few hours? He couldn’t decide if this was a preamble to goodbye or a lecture on the evils of sexually harassing someone in his employ.

“Let me see if I’m clear on what you’re saying. Women want me, but I’ve been burned.”

“Exactly.” Her rain-washed blue eyes regarded him solemnly. “That’s why you picked me.”

Now they were getting somewhere. At her heart, Bella was a practical woman. She would need to reconcile how, after they’d been nothing but friends for the months she was carrying Drew, he could suddenly desire her. Blake cursed himself for moving too fast. She would be skeptical of any explanation he offered. And how could he get her to accept why his desire for her had struck him so powerfully when he didn’t fully understand it himself?

“I’m not following,” he said, playing for time. “Why do you think I picked you?”

“Because I’m safe.”