A Mummy For His Baby

“That’s awesome. I still can’t believe that happened right in front of us.”

“I know—but better here than at home alone or something.” Beau opened a box and started to unpack it, then stopped. “Oh, sorry. Do you want me to help you?”

“Oh, sure. That’s just bedding. You can toss it on the bed. I can make it later.”

“No, that’s another back-bending chore. I’ll help you with it.”

Beau shook out the sheets and together they made up the queen-sized bed that took up the majority of the space in the efficiency apartment.

“Did you tell your mom you were moving out?”

“Yes.” Aurora nodded. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but still uncomfortable. I hate confrontation of any sort.”

“Yes, but it’s necessary sometimes.”

“Not according to my mother. If I just went along with all the things she’s planned for my life, everything would be just fine.” Aurora tossed up one hand for emphasis.

“Except you’d be unhappy.”

“Yeah. She kind of forgot about that part.”

There was real sympathy in his words, in his expression, and she knew he understood. Had always understood her, even when they were kids.

“She had visions of us being gal pals, or roommates or something.”

“Oh. That’s kinda weird.” Beau’s brows crinkled.

Aurora tucked the corner of a sheet in. “Since my dad died last year she’s been left without a mission in life, I think.”

“How so?”

“Well, she’s been a caretaker all her life, and without Dad needing her all the time she doesn’t have enough to keep her occupied.”

“Sounds like she needs a project.”

Aurora barked out a laugh and it felt good. For the first time in a long time, it felt good. “She does—as long as it isn’t me.”

The bed was finished in short order, and Aurora’s stomach rumbled.

“It’s getting to be that time, isn’t it?” Beau patted his stomach. “I could eat something myself.”

“That’s good, because my mom sent along a huge jar of beef stew she made today.” Aurora pointed to the jar on the counter. “And homemade bread. If you’d like some I’ll be happy to share.”

“Awesome. I never turn down free food. Especially homemade.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me check on Chloe first. She’s still at the sitter’s.” After a short conversation, he nodded. “Good to go.”

“I’d love to meet her some time.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will. I have her in the office sometimes.”

“Great. Babies are such fun.”

“Says someone who hasn’t had a child yet.”

“Are you telling me I have a skewed perspective?” With a grin, she parked her hands on her hips.

“Yes.”

The grin was returned, and she could see some of the pain of this morning had eased. This banter was fun.

“I dare you to make that statement again after you’ve been up three nights straight with a teething infant.”

“Oh, no, thanks. Not accepting that challenge.”

In minutes they had poured the still steaming stew into bowls, buttered bread, and sliced some cheese to go with it.

“Sorry, I don’t have any wine. It doesn’t go with my medications.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m not much of a drinker.”

He scooped some of the stew into his mouth and closed his eyes.

“Oh, my God, that’s good. She could open her own restaurant and just serve this. She’d make a fortune.” His brows shot up. “Hey, maybe you could talk her into opening her own diner or something? Then she’d be too busy to run your life.”

“I like the way you think.” Aurora laughed again and relaxed a little more.

Watching him enjoy the stew—a simple meal in her new place—stirred good feelings.

Forbidden feelings—especially after that comment about having her own baby. That had been her lifelong dream, to have a family, but it wasn’t meant to be apparently.

Recalling how Beau’s wife had tragically died after giving birth reminded her that having a family wasn’t without risk. And as she sat there in the small apartment, across from Beau, she wondered if the risks were worth it.

There was only one way to find out.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_1f589c68-d528-5617-8aa3-ca686edffdcf)

MAYBE COMING HOME hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Though returning to her childhood home had been a temporary plan, she liked how it felt right now. Cathy would be off for at least six weeks, so she had that long to think about things and maybe come up with another plan.

“What are you thinking about?” Beau set his spoon down and placed his hand over hers on the table. “You look so intense, so sad.”

“I was just thinking how far we’ve come since high school.”

She squeezed his hand and enjoyed the warmth of it in hers. Of course they’d touched. Many times. But now, in the closeness of the little apartment, things seemed different somehow. More grown up. More intimate than she’d imagined.

“You’re right.” He nodded and kept hold of her hand. “We’ve come a long way for sure. Sometimes I look back at who I was then and can’t believe I was such a self-centered, immature jerk.”

“Oh, Beau!” She leaned back in her chair with a laugh. “You were not.” No way. At least not the way she remembered it.

“Seriously?” Doubt shone in his eyes. “You don’t know half the things I did back then. I thought I was such hot stuff, that I could have any girl I wanted. Cheerleaders. Homecoming queens. Any girl I set my eyes on.” He shook his head and drew his mouth to the side. “I was an idiot. All ego. No brains. Not like you.”