Read Her Christmas Hero Online

Authors: Linda Warren

Her Christmas Hero (10 page)

BOOK: Her Christmas Hero
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Engrossed in his work, he was taken aback when the baby shot around the sofa. The kid was fast on all fours. At the coffee table, he pulled himself up, slapping his hands on the glass and bouncing on his feet. Innocent big brown eyes stared at Quinn. Dillon looked just like his mother, and Quinn felt a catch in his throat.

The toddler spied Quinn's papers on the table and sidestepped toward them.

“Oh, no, you don't.” Britt swung him into her arms, and childish giggles echoed through the room.

She sank into a chair, cuddling her son. “I was cleaning the kitchen and he got away from me. He crawls so fast.”

“I noticed.” And Quinn noticed her. He'd thought she was beautiful before, but with her baby in her arms she was stunning. Her dark hair was in disarray around her shoulders, and with that sparkle in her eyes and the glow of her skin, he found it hard to breathe.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

Chapter Ten

Quinn was so absorbed in watching Dillon, it took him a moment to realize she was talking to him. He cleared his throat. “The judge ordered it.”

“But why you, specifically? I'm sure you have employees who can handle this.” Britt bounced Dillon up and down as she spoke.

“I do, but she got a little flustered when Phil refused to leave, so she called me. I'm staying in case he gets it in his head to come back. Sorry that's not to your liking.”

“I'd prefer if we had very little contact.” Britt had to for her own peace of mind. Quentin Ross was a temptation she didn't need. He looked so different today, more like the man who'd rescued her. He wore faded jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt that molded his broad chest, and a glint in his eyes that made her very aware of every feminine need in her. His disheveled hair looked as if he'd just gotten out of bed.

“Phil made that impossible.” He waved a hand toward his laptop. “I'll work. Just pretend I'm not here.”

As if that was humanly possible. Her attention was drawn to him every other second—to his hands, which seemed too big for the laptop as he typed. To his blond hair, which fell across his forehead. And to the thrust of his jaw, covered with a growth of beard. He oozed testosterone
and every vibe found a mark inside her, making her very aware of what was missing in her life.

Dillon rubbed his face against hers and her heart swelled. She had everything she needed in her arms. But she only had him for the day. If she thought about it, she'd become upset, so she didn't.

“Playtime.” She carried Dillon to his room to gather toys and books, and went back to the living room. They sat together on the floor, and she placed his blocks in front of him. He loved to stack them. After Dillon grew tired, she read to him. He slapped at the pages if there was a dog or a horse, his favorite animals.

“Do you mind if I make a cup of coffee?” Quinn asked.

She looked up. “Of course not.” He probably hadn't even had breakfast.

Dillon grew sleepy and Britt knew it was his lunchtime. As Quinn walked back with a cup in hand, she said, “I brought Dillon's lunch. I'm going to the car to get it.” She placed blocks in front of Dillon. “Mommy will be right back.”

“I'll watch him,” Quinn offered.

“Thanks.” She fished her keys out of her purse and hurried to the door. As soon as Dillon realized she was leaving, he fell to his hands and knees and shot after her, crying loudly. She swung him into her arms, trying to soothe him. “It's okay. Mommy's here.” She couldn't say the words she wanted to—that she would never leave him. Her temper boiled but she banked it down.

“I'll get it,” Quinn said.

“Thank you.” She handed him her keys and rubbed Dillon's back. “It's a small ice chest on the passenger side.”

In a few minutes Quinn was back and handed her the
chest. “Why did you bring his food? Isn't there something here for him to eat?”

“I like for him to have something fresh and not out of a jar. I made him mashed potatoes, finely chopped up chick en and green peas. He loves it.”

She placed Dillon in his high chair and tied a bib around his neck. He slapped a hand on the tray, knowing what was coming. After she heated the food in the microwave, she fed it to him. He gobbled it up. Growing sleepy, he rubbed his eyes.

She looked up to see Quinn watching them. He held up his cup. “I was just getting a refill.”

“It's time for his nap.” She lifted Dillon out of the chair and washed his face and hands. “I'm going to change his diaper and give him a bottle. The kitchen's all yours.”

With Dillon asleep, she went back into the living room. Quinn was working at his laptop, a coffee cup beside him. Onnie had made her a sandwich for lunch out of leftover roast beef from their Saturday lunch. Britt hated to eat in front of him, or alone in the kitchen.

It didn't take her long to make up her mind. She grabbed the chest, two forks and two napkins, and carried them to the coffee table. Sitting on the floor, she pulled out food from the ice chest. “How about lunch?”

He glanced at her. “I'm good. Thanks.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

“No. I left in rather a hurry.”

She unwrapped the sandwich and laid it on a napkin. “This sandwich is huge. Onnie doesn't know how to make any thing small.”

Glancing over at the sandwich, he asked, “What kind is it?”

“Roast beef on Onnie's homemade bread.” Britt pointed.
“Just look at that. It's enormous. I'll never eat it all. You have to help.” She dropped her voice to a cajoling tone.

He closed his laptop and slid to the floor. “Okay. You've convinced me.”

“And we have coconut pie, fruit and water. How's that?”

“Sounds delicious.” He picked up half of the cut sandwich.

They ate in silence, and Britt couldn't help thinking the same thing she'd thought before: why did he have to be one of the bad guys?

“This is delicious,” he said around a mouthful of roast beef.

“Onnie's a great cook. You should taste her spaghetti and meatballs.”

He picked up a slice of apple. “I don't think I'll ever get that chance.”

“Probably not,” she muttered. They were on opposite sides and there was no way they could ever be together.

Except in her mind.

And she hated herself for even thinking it.

They shared the coconut pie and she pushed the biggest piece to him, licking her lips. “You have to eat the rest. I can feel my hips spreading.”

He studied her mouth, and his eyes darkened. A sizzle of awareness coiled through her.

“There's nothing wrong with your hips,” he remarked.

She gathered the remains and carried them to the trash in the kitchen, needing to do something to ease the tension in her stomach. “I wasn't looking for a compliment,” she called over her shoulder.

“It wasn't one,” he called back. “It's the truth.”

She put the lid on the ice chest and placed it by her purse,
then resumed her seat on the floor. Neither said anything else. Quinn leaned against the sofa, his eyes on her.

“I am sorry for the way things turned out.”

She brushed a crumb from her jeans. “Somehow I believe that.”

“I had no idea you were the Britt I knew.”

“It makes no difference now.”

“I suppose not.” His eyes held hers. “I'm really not a bad person.”

“You just work for people who are.”

“I owe a lot to Philip Sr. That's not an excuse. It's just how I got caught in this situation.”

“Were you and Phil good friends?” She drew up her knees and watched his face. His wide brow was slightly fur rowed as he thought before he spoke, which she imagined he also did in court.

“Just law students together. That's how I met his dad.”

She frowned. “I'm not sure what Philip has to do with my son. He never showed any interest in him.”

Quinn shrugged and she knew he wasn't going to tell her anything else. Looking around the apartment, he asked, “Did you decorate the condo?”

“No. It was decorated when I moved in.” Unable to stop herself, she ran her hands up her arms. “I hate this place. There are so many bad memories here.”

“There had to have been some good ones.”

“Phil's cruelty obliterated them all.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Then make him give me back my son.” She held his blue eyes, mentally willing him to agree.

A loud wail erupted and Britt jumped to her feet. Her baby was awake.

The rest of the afternoon went quickly, too quickly. She didn't know how she was going to leave Dillon. She held
and kissed him, and he picked up on her distress and became fussy.

“This is hard,” she said to Quinn.

A look crossed his face, an expression she hadn't seen before. This was hard for him, too. That had never crossed her mind and it threw her for a second.

“It's ten to five,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You better go before Phil arrives.”

A tear rolled from her eye as she pulled a package of Gold fish crackers from her purse. Handing them to Quinn, she said, “Give him some of these and it will keep him occupied for a while.” She held Dillon tight and kissed him. “Mommy loves you, Dilly bear.”

Quinn sat on the floor and fed Dillon crackers. “I'll take very good care of him,” he promised.

Holding back tears, she quietly picked up her things and slipped out, running to her car.

The moment Dillon realized his mother wasn't in the room he crawled to the kitchen looking for her. Quinn followed. Dillon's bottom lip dropped and he started to cry.

Picking up the boy, Quinn tried to comfort him. “It's ok ay, buddy. You'll see her again real soon.” Dillon cried that much louder.

Through the wails, Quinn heard the front door open. He carried the baby into the living room. A middle-aged woman with graying brown hair was removing her coat. When she saw them she immediately came and took Dillon. He went to her, but his dark, watery eyes kept searching the room.

“I'm Debi Carr, the nanny. I'll take care of this little one.”

Quinn reached for his jacket. “Isn't Phil coming home?”

“He said he'd be out late tonight, but don't worry, Dillon will be fine. I have a room next to his.”

Dillon seemed comfortable with the nanny, so Quinn gathered his laptop and briefcase, his anger once again getting the best of him. The whole point of the hearing was so Dillon would be with one of his parents, but that was just a blind for what was really going on. To take Dillon from the person who loved him. To make Britt pay. To hurt her.

Walking out the door, Quinn knew every risk he took was worth it. If it was the last thing he did as a lawyer, Britt would get her son back.

 

B
RITT CRIED HERSELF TO
sleep, but was up early to start job hunting. Through the night she'd made a decision. She'd been dealt a crippling blow and it had sidetracked her, but not anymore. She was fighting back. Phil and Quentin Ross were not going to get the best of her. After showering and dressing, she called Mona.

When Mona answered, Britt got right to the point. “I'm not happy with what happened yesterday. Do something to get this changed. I should be able to see my son in my own home—his home.”

“I completely agree with you and I'm already on it. I plan to call the judge as soon as I'm in the office.”

“Thank you, Mona. I just don't feel comfortable with Phil able to pop in anytime he pleases. Make sure the judge understands that.”

“I'll make that very clear. I'll call when I hear something.”

Britt spoke with her mother and grandmother, and then hit the streets looking for a job. Carin wanted to loan her money until Britt was back on her feet. Britt refused. She had to make it on her own.

Every place she went, from department stores to dress shops to secretarial agencies, she was told the same thing—they weren't hiring. Finally she tried the employment
office. She'd take anything. She had to have an income to keep Dillon and to pay the rent.

 

M
IDMORNING
, Q
UINN GOT
a call from Judge Norcutt's office. She wanted to see him at one. He had a full schedule, but it was about the Rutherford case, so he made time. Getting in touch with Phil was impossible. The man didn't answer his phone or return Quinn's calls.

Quinn was running late and arrived a little after one. Mona was already there. They didn't have time to talk before they were shown into the judge's chamber.

Evidently Judge Norcutt didn't have much time, either. She was at her desk going through some papers. She waved a hand. “Please have a seat. As I don't have a lot of time, I'll get right to it.”

She glanced at Quinn. “I understand there was an incident at the Rutherford house yesterday.”

He stood. “Yes, Your honor.”

“Can you guarantee it won't happen again?”

Quinn didn't have to weigh his answer. He had to be honest. “No. I can't.”

“Due to Mr. Rutherford's disregard of the law—” she scribbled her signature on a document “—I'm changing the order. Ms. Davis will be allowed to visit with her son in her home. Mr. Ross, your office will continue to oversee the visits. The nanny will deliver the boy and pick him up at the designated times.” The judge looked at him again. “Mr. Rutherford is to follow the order, Mr. Ross, and I trust you will see that he does.”

“I'll do my best.”

Out in the hall, he said to Mona, “I'm impressed.”

“Thanks, and thanks for not throwing a wrench into the works. But I have to tell you this whole case stinks to high heaven.” She turned and frowned at him. “And what
the hell are you doing in family court, anyway, Ross?” She didn't give him a chance to answer. “It really ticks me off that the Rutherfords are using a high profile lawyer with a reputation for winning. That stinks, too.”

“I'm glad you recognized that.” He suppressed a grin.

She gave him a skeptical look before walking off down the hall, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Yes. He was very glad she'd recognized that. And he was glad Britt had a lawyer who was fighting for her. She need ed one. But Britt had her own strength. She wasn't falling apart, just as she hadn't in the storm. From the start Quinn knew Britt was strong, and she'd need all that strength in the days ahead.

But in the words of Levi, Quinn had her back.

 

B
Y THE END OF THE DAY
Britt realized that finding a job was going to be almost impossible. But she wasn't giving up. The next morning she hit more businesses, looking for work. She stopped at noon, had lunch and waited for Dill on.

She was ecstatic that Mona had gotten the ruling overturned. Dillon would now be home for a while. And he seemed to recognize that, smiling and crawling everywhere.

BOOK: Her Christmas Hero
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