The Bachelor's Baby Dilemma

“Yes. It says, ‘Will you dance with me?’”

“I saw you dancing by yourself earlier.”

Her cheeks flushed. “That was embarrassing.”

“I thought you looked cute. And there’s no need to be embarrassed around me. I’ve seen you dance by yourself before.”

She gave him a pointed look. “Performing on stage is different from assuming that you’re alone in your kitchen.”

He shrugged, trying to get himself off the hook. “As long as we’re talking dances, do you remember what kind of flowers that were on the corsage I gave you when I took you to the prom?”

“Yes, I remember. A girl doesn’t forget the first time a boy gives her a corsage.” She glanced at her wrist, as if the ornament was still there. “It was a white carnation with baby’s breath.”

“And what do those mean?”

She checked the glossary. “White carnations symbolize innocence.” After a slight pause, she added, “That’s what baby’s breath means, too.”

“Go figure. A dangerous boy and an innocent girl.” He was beginning to enjoy these messages, to see them in a whole new way. “Maybe there is something to this flower-language stuff.”

She closed the book with a soft whoosh, fluttering its pages. “You’re only saying that because I got stuck with the innocent mantle.”

“Would you rather have a wild mantle?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Just tell me what flower symbolizes a wanton woman, and I’ll give you one of those the next time I take you dancing.”

“You aren’t taking me anywhere, smarty.”

“According to the floriography, I already asked you to dance.” He bowed like a gentleman caller who was going to waltz her around the kitchen.

She laughed. “Go use your charms on someone else.”

“Don’t be hasty.” Still bent at the waist, he peered up at her. “Have you forgotten my offer of protection?”

“From the dangerous cad that you are?” She moved away from him. “I think it’s time for me to finish cleaning the corn.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Just let me suffer here alone.”

She rolled her eyes and returned to the sink. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

All jokes aside, now he wanted to take her dancing. He wanted to sweep her off to bed, too, to lose himself in her innocence or wildness or whatever role she chose to play. Of course, he’d already surmised that she wasn’t the play-around type. That didn’t stop him from wishing otherwise, though.

Now Tanner needed a diversion, something to take his mind off doing bad things to her. “I think I’ll grab some chips and dip.”

He prepared a plate and stood off to the side, trying to clear the sexual toxins from his pores. But it didn’t work. The spices in the guacamole were as sizzling as he’d assumed they would be, making his blood hotter.

She went back to the corn, leaving him to his own devices. He drank the rest of his lemonade, wishing he could douse himself with it instead.

Luckily, Eric and Dana and their son soon arrived, and Tanner gladly redirected his focus.

He and Eric shook hands, and introductions were made. Dana said hello and offered a big smile. She was a shapely blonde who appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties, whereas Eric was in his forties. Tanner hadn’t expected an age difference. But it didn’t matter. They looked natural together.

As for Jude, he was a cute little pistol, with his father’s Native coloring and his mother’s bright blue eyes. He squirmed and laughed and tried to leap out of Dana’s arms to get to Candy.

“Canny!” he squealed in his toddler speak.

“Jude!” she replied with equal enthusiasm and reached for him. Just as quickly, he was looped around her, puckering up for a kiss. Smack. Smack. The exchange was deliberately loud and admirably sweet.

“He adores her,” Dana said with pride.

Tanner merely nodded. He couldn’t seem to stop watching them. Jude rested his head against Candy’s shoulder and flashed a set of devilish dimples. In that cozy instant, Tanner wondered, once again, why she hadn’t had kids of her own. But mostly he wondered about her ex and why their marriage had gone south.

“Is everyone ready to barbecue?” Candy asked, adjusting the imp in her arms.

“Yes, let’s do it,” Dana replied, reaching for a platter.

Eric helped carry the food, too. He also offered to fire up the grill, and he and his wife went outside together. Yogi followed them out the door. Somewhere between the floriography and Eric’s family arriving, Tanner had lost track of the dog.

And now he and Candy were alone in the kitchen with the other couple’s child. Jude was still nuzzled against her shoulder, using it like a pillow.

The boy cocked his head and pointed to Tanner. “You?”

“Me?”

“He wants to know your name,” Candy said.

Tanner cleared his throat. He didn’t know how to have a conversation with a toddler. Too many years had passed since Meagan was little, and as vivid as his memories about Ella were, she was too young to have started talking before she died.

He gave it his best shot. “I’m Tanner.”

“Tanny,” the boy replied.

Canny for Candy, and Tanny for him. Was Jude lumping them together in his young mind? Should he correct him?

Tanner looked to Candy for help. But she was biting back a grin, as if she thought it was funny. He was outnumbered. He’d probably been outsmarted, too. For all he knew, Jude was a prodigy who could speak like a scholar.

The three of them went outside to join Eric and Dana, and the barbecue got under way.

Eric cooked the steaks. He also placed the tofu kebabs Candy had fixed for herself on the grill.

When they sat down to eat, Jude reached for his mother, then his father, then went back to Candy, taking turns on each adult’s lap. Tanner was getting dizzy just watching him. It was like musical chairs without the music.

As he watched the scene unfold, he felt slighted that he’d been left out. Yet he was relieved, too. He had mixed emotions about being part of Jude’s hold-me circle. He wasn’t sure if he could’ve handled it. But that didn’t stop him from analyzing every move the little tyke made.