Surprised by Family: a Contemporary Romance Duet (9 page)

When they’d basically pulled themselves together, he got up to leave.

“Oh,” Leila said, “Don’t forget your gift from the girls.”

Baron blinked. He’d totally forgotten the reason he’d come up there to begin with.

Leila went over to a drawer in her desk and pulled out a clay bowl painted in blue and red. “They made it for you at craft time in school.” She looked a little sheepish as she handed it to him.

He took it and held it delicately. The paint lines were messy, and the curve of the bowl was lopsided and irregular. “They made it for me?”

“Yes. They did. They painted it blue and red because they thought those were your favorite colors, since your ties are usually blue or red.”

When he glanced up at Leila, he saw she was watching him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. So he tried again. “Thank you. Tell them thank you.”

Her face softened, as she evidently saw something in his expression that satisfied her. “I will. Do you—” She broke off the question.

“Do I what?”

She cleared her throat. “I totally understand if, after this...” She waved her hand over toward the loveseat to explain what she meant. “…if, after this, you don’t want anything more to do with me. But I was going to... We’re going to the science museum on Saturday. I’m know you’re really busy, but if you want, if you had time, you could come with us.”

How his brother would laugh. Baron James. Left painfully unsatisfied by a woman. Then given a lopsided bowl by two six-year-old girls. Then invited to go with them all to a museum to look at rocks and dinosaur bones.

“Maybe I will.”

Leila shouldn’t be feeling so fluttery.

It was way too early to feel these flutters about Baron. Yes, his interactions with both her and the girls were far more promising than she could have ever imagined. And, yes, her attraction for him spun farther out of control every time another piece of his smooth, charming façade was dismantled. And, yes, she’d known him for ages. There was a time when he’d almost felt like one of the family.

But she shouldn’t be feeling fluttery about him. She knew who he’d become in the last fifteen years, and it was almost impossible that Baron James—rich, powerful, worldly, incredibly complicated—would choose to fit himself into the life she needed for herself and the girls.

“What time is it, Mommy?” Jane asked, smoothing down her denim skirt although it wasn’t the least bit wrinkled.

“It’s just eleven now. Charlotte, don’t wander away, please.” She gestured to her second daughter, who was staring around the lobby of the science museum in fascination and straying away from where Leila leaned against a wall.

“He should be here.” Jane looked earnestly concerned, peering at every new face that came through the front doors.

Leila made herself mentally stamp down the flutters in her belly—feelings of giddy excitement over Baron’s potential arrival and anxiety about his perhaps not showing up at all. “Remember,” she said in her calmest voice, “he said he would
try
to come. Not that he would
definitely
come.”

“Why wouldn’t he come?” Charlotte demanded.

“It wouldn’t be because he didn’t want to see you, but he might have had work come up. He’s busy a lot with work.”

“Like Daddy,” Jane put in, nodding her head in subdued understanding. “He always works a lot too.”

“Yes,” Leila murmured, shifting against the wall. She didn’t really like thinking of the similarities between Rick and Baron. When she reflected on the natures of the two men, she saw fewer and fewer common traits—except for their surface personas.

But surface wasn’t always so easy to shed.

Plus, Baron’s job now was far more stressful than Rick’s had ever been.

“Charlotte,” she exclaimed sharply, when her daughter almost backed into an elderly man behind her. Gentling her voice, Leila added, “Watch out, sweetie.”

Charlotte frowned at her, but she came over to lean against the wall beside Jane.

The girls were both wearing denim skirts and pastel-colored tops, with matching ribbons in their ponytails. Leila had dressed casually on purpose—in a pair of brown pants and a t-shirt and hoodie. Perhaps the pants made her butt look particularly good, and the red t-shirt had a flatteringly low neckline. But she likely would have worn the same thing, even had Baron not been making a potential appearance. And she hadn’t worn her glasses, but that was just because she wasn’t likely to need them.

“He liked our bowl?” Jane asked, still intently watching the people coming through the front doors.

“Yes, he did,” Leila assured her—perhaps the twelfth time that question had been asked and answered in the last couple of days. “He really liked it. He said a special thank you for it to both of you.”

Despite her firm resolves, she felt more flutters when she remembered Baron’s face as he’d processed the gift from the girls the other day. His reaction was understated, reined in. But she’d seen very clearly that he’d been touched. That response was particularly meaningful after the obvious frustration of their interrupted make-out session.

She couldn’t think about that too much, though. Not if she wanted to maintain her composure. Even clumsy and unfinished, that interlude with Baron in her office could still get her hot.

As unlikely as it was, Baron must be genuinely attracted to her. He couldn’t have put on his physical response to her, and the urgency and heat of his kiss, his touch, had been powerful and real. He was attracted to her—as much as she was to him.

They seemed to be dancing around the initial stages of dating, although neither of them had made it perfectly clear.

In so many ways, though, Baron just wasn’t a good choice for her. His history, lifestyle, and responsibilities would make it difficult for him to be a husband or the father-figure the girls needed.

But he was so good with them, Leila thought with another little flutter. And he seemed to be working through some things.

Whatever it was, it gave her hope. It made her giddy. And she prayed it wouldn’t crush her in the end.

Charlotte had gotten bored of leaning against the wall, so she started to totter on a grout line in the tile floor, obviously pretending it was a balance-beam. “Where is he?” she whined. “He should be here.”

“He’s late,” Jane confirmed, her little face looking far too sober.

Leila closed her eyes briefly, hoping desperately that Baron would call if he’d decided not to join them at the museum. He might not, though. He wouldn’t necessarily think it was a big deal. He might not realize the girls took such things very seriously.

She forced her voice to remain light as she said, “We’ll wait five more minutes—until 11:15—then we’ll go ahead and go on in. He can catch up with us if he’s just running late.”

Charlotte stuck her chin out, both hands extended as she “balanced” on the grout line. “I don’t want to go in without him.”

“Charlotte, don’t be stubborn. He might have gotten busy. He only said he
might
come.”

The girl’s chin stuck out even more, matching her lower lip. Leila watched her daughter's pout with a sinking heart. Charlotte had been on edge all morning—too much excitement broken by nerves and now disappointment.

Leila felt the same way herself, even though she was the grown-up and should really know better.

They waited five more minutes until Leila looked at her watch with a sigh and straightened up, knowing it was time to round up the girls and go into the museum on their own.

“But I don’t want—” Charlotte began, before Leila could even say anything.

“Look!” Jane gasped, her dedicated observation of the front doors finally paying off.

Leila turned and caught sight of a familiar dark head across the lobby. The tension in her chest eased, even as her heart skipped a beat. Those insistent flutters in her belly—which refused to listen to her sensible advice—started up with new life.

Baron had seen them and was making his way over with long strides. He wore gray trousers and a black crew-neck shirt, and he returned the girls' excited gesticulations with a half-smile and a lift of his hand.

“Sorry,” he said when he’d approached. “Thanks for waiting.”

“You were late!” Charlotte informed him.

“That’s okay,” Jane said at the same time.

Both girls skipped over to Baron with huge grins.

Baron looked down on them, reaching out with one arm to shake each of their hands in turn.

Leila tried to hide her chuckle. Not just because it was incredibly cute—which it was—but because she could tell that Baron had decided on the hand-shaking scenario to keep the girls from giving him hugs.

He looked up and met her eyes, smiling at her with an unexpected warmth that made her head spin.

How was she supposed to be mature and reasonable about this, when he looked so good she wanted to slurp him down and he treated her girls like they were important—even though she knew he was treading on unfamiliar territory and it made him a little uncomfortable?

“Hi,” he told her. “Sorry I’m late. I had to work this morning and got dragged into a meeting.”

She noticed then that he was breathless. He didn’t appear rushed at all, but he must have been hurrying. Looking at the slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead, she realized he might even have been running to get here.

“No problem,” she said, trying to sound friendly and casual but her soft feelings a little too evident in her voice. “I’m glad you were able to come. It’s too bad you have to work even on Saturdays.”

“We want to see the dinosaurs first.” Jane stuck her hand out toward Baron, who had no choice but to take it.

“Yes,” Charlotte agreed, positioning herself on his other side and snatching his free hand. “And then the spaceships!”

“Right,” he said matter-of-factly, although he looked a little lost with a six-year-old girl on each hand. “Dinosaurs. Then spaceships. Anything else?”

“Butterflies!” Charlotte said. “Mommy said she wanted to see those.”

“Then we’ll definitely make time for the butterflies.”

They made their way into first exhibit, and after a few minutes Baron managed to free his hands—since the girls ran around peering at glass cases and trying to read the signs. Baron was an excellent companion in the museum, as he seemed to know his way around, knew all the juiciest details about the dinosaurs and missions to the moon, and had a sneaky way of getting around the milling crowds and positioning the girls in the best spots to see.

When the girls weren’t asking questions, they were giggling and beaming—obviously having a fantastic time.

Leila had a really good time too, and not just because the girls were enjoying themselves. Baron’s knowledge was remarkable, and most of what he said interested her as much as the girls. Plus, he would murmur dry, clever remarks to her about the people around them or the nature of the exhibits that made her want to giggle like the girls.

After two and a half hours, they ended up in the snack bar—where Baron bought them outrageously expensive hotdogs, chips, and sodas. After the girls had eaten their fill, they asked for permission to play in the area designated for children to pretend to dig up dinosaur bones and put them together into skeletons.

Leila watched the girls run over to the play area, and she turned to Baron with a smile. She was surprised to discover he was looking at her and not the girls. Something about the look in his eyes made her feel uncharacteristically shy.

“Thanks for coming,” she said. “You’ve totally made their day.”

“I’m glad they had fun,” he murmured, predictably glossing over the part about his presence being what made the day so special for them.

Looking at him closely, she realized that he looked tired, his dark eyes slightly weary and his posture a little slouched. “It’s kind of exhausting,” she said lightly. “You’re welcome to leave whenever you need to. You’ve done more than your duty in entertaining them.”

He shook his head, clearly surprised. “It’s fine. It’s been a nice distraction.”

She studied him more intently, trying to disguise her observation by sipping slowly on her soda. Maybe it wasn’t that he was tired from walking around the museum. Maybe he was stressed about something. “How is work going?” she asked, hoping it didn’t sound like she was prying.

He gave a half-shrug. “Okay. Why do you ask?”

“Just making idle conversation. What else?” She grinned, using irony to cover her growing concern.

He returned her smile and looked back toward where the girls were playing. Charlotte appeared to be bossing a little red-headed boy who was holding a plastic shovel.

Leila watched Baron out of the corner of her eyes. When they weren’t talking and when he wasn’t distracted by the girls, he looked absolutely exhausted, like something heavy was weighing him down.

The flutters from her happy day tightened into concern. He was going through something—something important, something really hard—and Leila had no idea what it was.

Not that she had any right to know. They weren’t in the kind of relationship where they would spill their guts to each other. But still...

She wanted to know. She wanted to help.

“Is everything settled with the company yet? I mean after your father’s death?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. It’s a long process.”

“But you’re basically doing his job now?”

“Yeah.”

From what she remembered, his father had never done anything but work. “Are there enough hours in the day?”

He gave a dry huff. “Not even close.”

No wonder he looked so tired and stressed. He’d played around for most of his twenties. She assumed he’d taken his earlier job with the company seriously, but he’d not had anywhere near as much work and pressure as he must have now.

She racked her mind for some way to express understanding and support, but before she could think of anything to say, Baron pulled out his smartphone.

The thing never seemed to stop vibrating.

He glanced at the display and gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he murmured, before he stood up and took a few steps away to take the call.

Leila could hear his side of the conversation, but it was mostly just a series of “yes,” “no,” “fine,” and “Be sure you do.” He hung up after less than a minute.

When he sat down, he stared toward the girls again, but this time he didn’t seem to really see them.

Leila’s throat clenched in concern. “Is everything all right?”

He met her eyes. “Fine.”

She wished he wouldn’t lie to her, but things were too new between them to reproach him for it. “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning forward to put a hand on his arm. It was as intimate as she felt comfortable doing. “You look... you look like something might be wrong.”