The Non-Commissioned Baby

“What do you call it?” he asked hotly.

“I call it looking out for this baby when no one else seems willing.”

Miranda sniffled and rubbed her eyes with both fists. Then, reaching down, she snatched at the hem of Laura’s nightgown and lifted it. Jamming the fabric into her mouth, she chewed furiously.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t willing,” he said.

“Of course you did,” Laura countered, paying no attention to the suddenly quiet baby in her arms. “Not five minutes after I got here, you were talking about finding a way out of this situation.”

A long silent moment passed, neither of them aware that Miranda had stopped screaming. Finally, Jeff stood up, and ran one hand across the top of his head. Something Laura had already noticed he did quite often when he was upset.

“Look,” he said, gazing down at her in the half-light, “maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”

“How’s that?” She looked up at him, determined to keep her gaze locked on his face. Thankfully, she was immune to the distraction of a well-muscled chest, but there was no point in taking chances.

“I’m not some kind of monster,” he told her, and his voice sounded distant, quiet. “I don’t even hate kids.”

Wow. A testimonial. Her hold on Miranda tightened protectively.

“It’s just that I’m not...” He shook his head and looked off into the shadowy corner of the room. “Hell, I’m nobody’s idea of father material.”

Was that a wistful tone in his voice? “You could be,” she said hesitantly. “If you tried.”

He snorted a choked laugh. “You’re a lot more sure than I am, Mary Poppins,” he commented.

Laura stood up, hitching the baby higher in her arms. Forcing herself to look into Jeff’s eyes, she said, “I thought Marines weren’t afraid of a challenge.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic half smile. She told herself that it was lucky for her she was beyond noticing things like the dimple he had in his right cheek.

“Challenges, no,” he told her. “Slaughters, yes. And I have a feeling that kid’s already got me outnumbered.” Pausing, he listened for a minute, then said, “Hey, she’s not crying anymore.”

True, Laura thought. Miranda had finally settled down, and neither one of them had realized it.

Jeff looked at the baby in her arms, then pulled in a deep breath as his gaze slipped lower.

Laura saw his jaw tighten. Glancing down, she looked for whatever it was that had caused such a reaction in him. Her eyes widened immediately. The hem of her nightshirt was drawn up to just beneath her left breast. Exposed to Jeff’s view was not only a wide expanse of flesh, but the electric blue lace bikini underwear she wore. Laura’s one concession to femininity in her wardrobe had always been her secret weakness for beautiful lingerie.

Well, it wasn’t a secret anymore.

“Oh, my goodness,” she blurted as she tugged at the fabric even while turning her back on Jeff.

“Wow,” he murmured.

Laura silently thanked heaven that it was so dark in the living room. She felt the heated flush of embarrassment rush to her cheeks and was relieved he wouldn’t see it.

“Who would have thought you’d be hiding lace under all that camouflage you were wearing earlier?”

It would have been too much to hope for that he would ignore what he’d just seen. But did he really have to talk about it, too?

“I think it would be better if we just pretend this never happened,” Laura said as she tugged at the fabric, hoping to restore her dignity. But the baby, happily chewing on the soft cotton, was blissfully unaware of Laura’s predicament. Little fingers curled into the material and hung on with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Nothing did happen,” Jeff stated.

Laura shot him a quick, furtive look over her shoulder. An odd gleam shone in his eyes, but she dismissed it as a trick of the low lighting. For whatever reason, he wasn’t going to talk about her underwear anymore. That was enough.

“Good,” she said quickly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she grunted as she stepped around him, keeping her back to him at all times. “I think I’ll put Miranda down. She seems contented enough now.”

He chuckled.

She heard him, but since she still wasn’t decently covered, she didn’t turn around. “What’s so funny?” she demanded, stopping just outside her open bedroom door.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “It’s just that I was thinking how alike Miranda and I are after all.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, knowing even as she did so that it was a mistake.

“It means that pulling a woman’s nightgown up always makes me pretty content, too.”

She inhaled sharply. Straightening her shoulders, she ignored the deep chuckles coming from behind her and walked into her room. When the door was safely closed, Laura leaned back against it.

Miranda laughed, let go of the nightgown and patted Laura’s cheeks.

“Oh, sure,” she said to the smiling baby. “Now you cooperate.”

Jeff cupped his head in his hands and inhaled the scent of the strong black coffee in front of him. His eyes felt like two marbles in a bucket of sand.

Between the baby’s restless first night in his apartment and the heart-stopping peep show Laura had unwittingly given him, he had lain awake most of the night. Visions of blue lace and smooth, lightly tanned flesh had haunted him.

Even now, he could see her, flustered and embarrassed as she turned away from him. If the light in the room had been better, Jeff was willing to bet that he could have seen a blush steal across her cheeks.

How long had it been since he’d known a woman to blush?

He inhaled sharply, blew the air out of his lungs in a frustrated sigh and told himself that he would be in real bad shape if he was attracted to women like Laura Morgan.

Thankfully, he wasn’t.

Give him a well-dressed, sophisticated career woman every time. The motherly type had never done a thing for him. Although, you really couldn’t classify those blue lace bikini panties as motherly.

He groaned quietly.

Should have taken another sick day, he thought A man just couldn’t function on two hours’ sleep. Unless of course, he thought as he leaned back in his chair, he was on a battlefield. Live ammunition whizzing past your head had a way of waking you right up.

“Captain?”

Jeff blinked groggily, almost surprised to find himself in his office. He looked at the younger man poking his head in the doorway. “What is it, Corporal Warren?”

“A Private Higgins is here, sir. Says he has those files you wanted.”

“Send him in,” Jeff ordered sharply. He’d been waiting all morning for these records to arrive.