Baby Beneath the Christmas Tree

CHAPTER THREE

DREW turned to leave the room, his hand tingling from just touching Gwen’s. He told himself it was ridiculous to be attracted to somebody closer to Brody’s age than his own—and with a baby, no less—but it didn’t stop the tightness that had captured his chest.

“Um, Drew?”

He stopped. Half afraid she was about to say something about their attraction—maybe even tell him she didn’t want her old boss hitting on her—he faced her.

“We still need supplies.” She winced. “I brought my equipment from home, but no real cleaning supplies. To make the bathrooms usable I think we need some disinfectant cleanser.” She caught his gaze. “I also noticed there are no sheets or towels or pillows. No laundry detergent, dishwashing detergent, dishes or silverware. Or even basic pots and pans. You could also probably use a coffee-maker—”

Relieved that she was focusing on the job, Drew reached for his wallet. “And food?”

“And food.”

“Okay.” He pulled out several hundred-dollar bills. “Can you take care of getting all of that?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

She glanced at the stack of bills then back up at him. “You do realize we don’t have a Saks Fifth Avenue, right? I’m only going to the local discount department store.”

“Are you telling me you have too much money or not enough? “

“I’m saying the sheets won’t be silk.”

He laughed.

A wonderful feeling filled her again. Her pulse scrambled. Her knees weakened. Her brain became fuzzy and dreamy. When he wasn’t being angry with Brody, he was actually a fun, nice guy—

That had to be irrelevant! It would be insanity for a woman with a baby to find a man who obviously didn’t like kids attractive. Especially a boss. A rich boss. A man so far out of her league she shouldn’t even be looking at him.

Drew’s cell phone rang in the silent kitchen. He clicked a button and said, “Teaberry.” A pause. “Actually, I don’t even have my laptop set up yet. The fax, printer and two boxes of files are still in my SUV.”

He walked toward the kitchen door. “I pretty much know Jimmy Lane’s biggest objection to the Teaberry Corporation buying his company is that I’m not a local, but I’m fixing that. I’m moving into my grandparents’ old homestead,” he said, shoving against the swinging door and then disappearing behind it, effectively shutting off his conversation to her.

Ignoring the unwanted sparkle still twinkling through her, Gwen glanced down at sleeping Claire. “Well, this is going to be different than what we’d expected, but not something we can’t handle.”

Once Claire was dressed in her snowsuit, Gwen left for the store. A few more inches of fresh snow had fallen on the road since her last trip, making the drive down the mountain slow. She spent an hour at the discount department store, and another hour at the grocery, trying to guess what two rich guys would be able to cook for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

With her shopping completed, she stopped at her house. Not only did she pack extra clothes for Claire, she packed extra clothes for herself. She’d leave at least two outfits of cleaning clothes and two outfits of administrative assistant clothes in the maid’s quarters, just in case.

She also packed Claire’s swing—a gift she’d gotten at her baby shower. Now she had Drew’s full permission to have Claire at the house, there was no reason Claire couldn’t be totally comfortable.

The drive back up the mountain was even slower than the drive down. When she entered the kitchen, carrying Claire in the baby carrier and three plastic bags of towels, Brody was sitting at the kitchen table, looking bored out of his mind.

“Help me bring in the things from my car, would you?” she said lightly as she dropped the bags on the kitchen floor. She tossed her keys to Brody. “I’ll be out in two minutes. I just need to put Claire down for her nap.”

She didn’t know where Drew was, but she and Brody took so long carrying in the bags and putting the groceries into the kitchen pantry that Claire had awakened from her nap. After Gwen got Claire from the bedroom and fed her, she again found Brody in the kitchen.

“Blue towels and linens are yours,” she said to Brody, who was remarkably cooperative. From the way he’d behaved with his father, she’d thought he’d throw a fit when she asked for his help. But he hadn’t even flinched when she’d asked him to carry in the groceries and linens. She pointed at the bags that contained his linens. “Why don’t you take them upstairs?”