Bound by a Baby

Although he’d accused Emmy of leaving him to do the serious stuff, he was guiltily aware that he’d never babysat his godson or anything like that, and she clearly had. She’d been a better godparent than he had, by far—much more hands-on. He’d just been selfish and avoided it.

‘He’d just started to sleep through, a couple of weeks back; but I guess he’s picked up on the tension over the last few days because he’s woken every night since the accident.’ Emmy sighed. ‘He might need a nappy change or some milk, or he might just want a cuddle.’

‘How do you know what he needs?’ Babies were too little to tell you. They just screamed.

‘The nappy, you’ll definitely know,’ she said dryly. ‘Just sniff him.’

‘Sniff him?’ Had she really said that?

She smiled. ‘Trust me, you’ll know if he has a dirty nappy. If he’s hungry, he’ll keep bumping his face against you and nuzzling for milk. And if he just wants a cuddle, hold him close and he’ll settle and go to sleep. Eventually.’

‘Poor little mite.’ Dylan felt a muscle clench in his cheek. ‘I hate that Pete’s never going to get to know his son. He’s not going to see him grow up. He’s not going to teach him to ride a bike or swim. He’s not going to...’ He blew out a breath. ‘I just hate all this.’

‘Me, too,’ she said softly. ‘I hate that Ally’s going to miss all the firsts. The first tooth, the first word, the first steps. All the things she was so looking forward to. She was keeping a baby book with every single detail.’

‘I never thought I’d ever be a dad. It wasn’t in my life plan.’ Dylan grimaced. ‘And I haven’t exactly been a hands-on godparent, so far. Not the way you’ve been. I’m ashamed to say it, but I don’t have a clue where I should even start right now.’

‘Most men aren’t that interested in babies until they have their own,’ she said. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it too much.’

‘I’ve never even changed a nappy before,’ he confessed. There really hadn’t been the need or the opportunity.

‘Are you trying to get out of doing night duty?’

Was she teasing him or was she going to throw a hissy fit? He really wasn’t sure. He couldn’t read her at all. Emmy was almost a stranger, and now she was going to be a huge part of his life, at least for the next three months. Unwanted, unlooked for. A woman who’d always managed to rub him up the wrong way. And he was going to have to be nice to her, to keep the peace for Tyler’s sake. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not trying to get out of it. But you know what you’re doing—you’ve looked after Tyler for the last few days on your own. And I was just thinking, it might be an idea if you teach me what I need to do.’

She blinked at him. ‘You want me to teach you?’ She tested the words as if she didn’t believe he’d just said them.

‘If I don’t have a business skill I need, I take a course to learn it. This is the same sort of thing. It might save us both a lot of hassle,’ he said dryly. ‘And I think it’d be better if you show me in daylight rather than tell me now. You know the old stuff about teaching someone—I hear and I forget, I see and remember, I do and I understand.’

She nodded. ‘Fair enough. I’ll keep the baby listener with me tonight. But, tomorrow, please make sure you’re back early so I can teach you the basics—how to change a nappy, make up a bottle of formula, and do a bath. By early, I mean before five o’clock.’

When was the last time he’d left the office before seven? He couldn’t remember. Tough. Tomorrow, he’d just have to make the effort. ‘Deal,’ he said.

‘OK. See you tomorrow.’

He realised that she’d been working when she closed a folder and picked up a handful of pencils. But then again, hadn’t she said something about preferring to work in the evening? So he squashed the growing feeling of guilt. She was self-employed. A sole trader who didn’t need to keep to traditional business hours. She obviously worked the hours that suited her.

‘See you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Which room did you pick?’

‘The one opposite Tyler’s.’

Which left the one next to Pete and Ally’s room for him. ‘OK. Thanks.’ And then he realised he hadn’t brought any bedding with him.

‘The bed’s already made up,’ she said. ‘I used linen from Ally and Pete’s airing cupboard. I don’t think they’d mind and it’d be a waste not to use it.’

He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise I’d said that aloud.’

‘It’s a lot to take in. A lot of change.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ll muddle through.’

‘Yeah. Sleep well.’ Which was a stupid thing to say; of course she wouldn’t, because Tyler would wake up.

But she didn’t look annoyed. Her eyes actually crinkled at the corners. Again, Dylan was struck by the fact that Emmy Jacobs was pretty. And again it tipped him off balance. He couldn’t even begin to think about Emmy in that way; it would make things far too complicated.

‘Sleep well, Dylan,’ she said, and strolled out of the kitchen.

* * *

Given how late Dylan had been the previous night, and the fact that Emmy had asked him to be back before five, he thought he’d better take the afternoon off to deal with the baby-care issues. He walked in to the house to find Emmy playing with the baby and singing to him, while the baby gurgled and smiled at her.

This felt distinctly weird. He’d never been that interested in babies and he’d never wanted a family of his own—which was most of the reason why he’d married Nadine, because she’d been just as dedicated to her career as he was and didn’t pose any kind of emotional risk. Or so he’d thought. He hadn’t expected her to change her mind and give him an ultimatum: give me a baby or give me a divorce. He didn’t want a baby, so the choice was obvious.

And now he was here. Instead of being in his minimalist Docklands bachelor flat, he was living in a family home. Sharing the care of a tiny, defenceless baby. And he didn’t have the least idea about what he was doing.

Emmy looked up at him. ‘Hey, Ty, look, it’s Uncle Dylan.’ She smiled. ‘You’re back early.’

It was the first time Dylan could ever remember Emmy smiling spontaneously at him, as if she were genuinely pleased to see him, and he was shocked that it made him feel warm inside.

Was he going crazy, reacting like this to her?

No, of course not. It was just because he’d been knocked off balance by Pete and Ally’s death. Grief made him want to hold someone, that was all; to feel connected to the world, still. He was not becoming attracted to Emmy Jacobs. Even though he was beginning to think that maybe she wasn’t quite who he’d always thought she was.

‘We agreed you were going to teach me about nappies and baths,’ he said. ‘And you asked me to come back early. Here I am.’ He spread his hands. ‘So let’s get it sorted.’

She blew a raspberry on Tyler’s tummy, making the baby giggle. ‘He’s clean at the moment, so we might as well hold off on that side until he really needs a nappy change. But he’s wide awake, so you can play with him.’

‘Play with him?’ Dylan repeated. He knew it was ridiculous—he was the head of a very successful computer consultancy and could sort out tricky business problems quickly and effectively. But he didn’t have a clue about how to play with a baby. He’d never done it. Never needed to do it.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Dylan, you can’t just sit and work on your laptop when you’re in charge and Ty’s awake. You need to play with him. Read to him. Talk to him.’

Dylan frowned. ‘Isn’t he a bit young for books?’

‘No. Pete used to read to him,’ she said softly. ‘Ally read up about it and she wanted Tyler to have a good male role model. So Pete always did the bedtime story.’

OK. Reading to a baby couldn’t be that hard. Talking, too. But playing...where did you start? He didn’t know any baby games. Any nursery rhymes.

As if the panic showed on his face, she smiled at him. ‘Come and give him a cuddle.’

And this was where Dylan got nervous. Where things could go terribly wrong. Because he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. And he hated the fact that he had to take advice from someone as flaky as Emmy, because she clearly knew more about babies than he did. ‘Do I have to hold his head or something?’

‘No. He’s four months old, not a newborn, so he can support his head just fine. He can’t sit up on his own yet, but that’ll happen in a few weeks.’ She looked at him. ‘OK. You might want to change.’

‘Why?’

‘Unless you don’t mind your suit getting creased and needing to go to the cleaner’s more often.’

The question must’ve been written all over his face, because she added, ‘You’re going to be on the floor with him a lot.’

She had a point. ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’ Dylan took the stairs two at a time to his room, then changed into jeans and T-shirt.