She waved a hand, dismissing the concern. “It’s no bother. You’ll find people here in Blackwater Lake are really friendly. Willing to help out their neighbors.”
“That’s good to know.” Also reassuring to learn her biological mother seemed to be a really good person.
Kyle chose that moment to join the conversation. Along with the stream of chatter, he started to wriggle in the cart, trying to pull his legs free and climb out.
“Just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Kyle?” She laughed when he held out his arms. “I think that’s my cue to get a move on.”
“Kids do let you know...”
Emma was just starting to get comfortable, to shake off the urge to run. But Kyle came first and he was obviously getting restless. “It’s time to finish up the shopping.”
“You’re not the only one. I’m due at the diner for the lunch rush. Alan will send out a search party if I’m late.”
Because a member of his family had disappeared once? She couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like.
“I’ve got to get this little one home for lunch and a nap.”
“He seems like a good baby.”
“That’s an understatement. He’s practically perfect.”
Michelle studied her. “You seem really fond of him.”
“That’s what Dr. Flint pays me for.”
“It’s more than that.” The other woman rested a palm on the handle of her basket... “The way you look at him is something a paycheck can’t buy.”
Emma shrugged. “I like kids.”
“So do I.”
“But Kyle is especially easy to like.”
“I can see that.”
Emma glanced at her watch and saw that it was pushing noon. “I’m sorry to keep you.”
“It’s all right.” But the sad, wistful expression that slid into her eyes as she looked at the baby said something was not right. The warm friendliness from moments ago faded.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not really. No,” she said firmly, as if she was working hard to make that the truth. “It was nice talking to you, Emma. I hope we’ll see you in the diner.”
“Maybe.”
She watched the other woman walk away and knew this perfect, happy baby had been a reminder of what was taken from her. At first, she’d been bubbly and outgoing, then they started talking about Kyle. That had made her withdraw. Apparently, she’d learned to cope with the loss and had come to terms with it.
Seeing the change convinced Emma that she was right to keep her identity to herself. She was a grown-up now and couldn’t give the woman back the baby girl she used to be. Shaking up Michelle Crawford’s world all over again just didn’t seem like the right thing to do.
* * *
Justin walked up his front steps and realized he was whistling. He didn’t whistle; he’d never whistled. And it had nothing to do with a radio tune looping in his head because he’d been listening to news on the way home from the clinic. He realized it was a symptom of a condition he hadn’t experienced for a long time. It was called happiness.
Part of the reason was seeing his son content. Growing and thriving in this place that couldn’t be more different from Beverly Hills. The other part was about the woman who was making sure his son was happy.
Emma Robbins.
Just thinking her name produced an image of her in his mind, and the vision was enough to make his senses quiver with anticipation. If she had a flaw, he couldn’t see it. Not only was she easy on the eyes, she took care of Kyle as if he were her own. And she was a great cook. Her inclusion into the household had been seamless.
He jogged up the steps to the front door and unlocked it, then stepped inside. “I’m home.”
Justin felt an irrational impulse to add “honey.” Maybe it was time for a mental health professional to join the staff at Mercy Medical Clinic. A shrink would have a field day with him. Diagnosis: unreasonable romantic feelings where there weren’t any because he was obsessed with having an intensely loving and respectful relationship like the one his parents had enjoyed.
His first marriage had been a failure, which meant he’d already screwed up any chance of following in his mom and dad’s footsteps. That wasn’t a failure he wanted to repeat, but it was hard to remember why when he looked at Emma’s mouth.
“We’re in the kitchen,” she called out.
“On my way.”
Just the sound of her voice, which was two parts silk and one part gravel, made him want to start whistling again. He held back as he walked to his home office and put his laptop on the desk. Then he joined them at the dinner table where Emma sat beside Kyle, who was in the high chair.
“Daddy’s home,” she said to the boy.
“Da—” He didn’t look up, too deep in concentration. With tiny thumb and forefinger he picked up a pea and put it in his mouth.
Emma clapped her hands at the accomplishment. “Good job.”
The boy grinned at her praise, and then went after a small piece of cooked carrot.
“I tried to hold off his dinner until you got home,” she explained. “But he was just too hungry.”
“No problem.” The room was filled with tantalizing smells that made him realize Kyle wasn’t the only hungry guy in the family. “What’s for dinner?”
“Rigatoni and meatballs. Salad. Now that you’re here, I’ll cook the pasta.”
“Sounds good. I’ll just visit with this guy while you do that.”
Her only response was a smile that did amazing things to her mouth. One glance was like touching a hot stove and he pulled back, turning his attention to the neutral subject of peas and carrots.
Justin put a few on the plastic tray. “Here you go, buddy.”
“Da—Da—” After slapping both small hands on the vegetables, Kyle rubbed the mushed goo into his hair and over his face.
Justin laughed and said, “Code green emergency.”
Standing at the stove in front of a pot steaming with simmering pasta and another bubbling with marinara and meatballs, Emma glanced over her shoulder. “That means he likes them.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that because wearing food seems counterproductive to the goal.”