The baby was crying.
Tana opened her eyes, but it was pitch-black in her bedroom. Was this the midnight feeding? The three a.m.? She couldn’t remember what time she’d gotten into bed. She usually just slept on the sofa between midnight and three, if she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. The bedroom was for that brief, heavenly nap between three and seven-ish. If it were seven, though, it wouldn’t be pitch-black.
This was so hard. She’d already lost track of the days of the week. Now she was losing morning and night.
She rolled over, ready to stick her hand in the bedside bassinet to pat Sterling and let him know she was there for him. If he didn’t cry too furiously at first, she’d be able to grab a granola bar, so she could eat while he was nursing. How many meals in a row could she eat granola bars before nutrition got to be an issue? Did the book say anything about that?
Her hand met air. Nothing. No bassinet.
She bolted out of bed, tripping over the bed sheets. The baby’s cry was coming from another room. What—who—how—?
It clicked: Caden. He must have rolled the bassinet out of her bedroom. He’d stopped by this afternoon with a pair of tiny cowboy boots, and he’d stayed. After she’d burst into tears, he hadn’t believed anything she’d said about everything being under control.
He was right. It wasn’t. But it could be. She just had to figure it out how other single mothers did it.
A little sleep was all she needed, and that was what Caden had tempted her with to let him stay. Nothing major—he could pick up Sterling when he cried, change his diaper, then bring him to Tana. She could stay horizontal, if not asleep, for more than two consecutive hours. If she showed him how to change a diaper, he’d be her butler, bringing her a baby who was freshly changed and ready to nurse.
A baby butler? She’d given in to the temptation.
Just once, she’d said, for the midnight feeding. He’d pushed her toward her bedroom around ten. He’d brought her the baby after midnight. She’d fed Sterling and then put him in the bassinet by her bed without having to stand up and walk around, changing a diaper, and it had been much more restful than she could have guessed.
She’d assumed Caden would leave. Midnight was when bars were closing, movies were over, people were going home. She hadn’t expected him to change the next diaper and bring the baby to her the next time, too. Why would he do that? He wasn’t her ex-boyfriend.
He’s so into you, you lucky witch. Ruby had always maintained that Caden had the hots for Tana.
The possibility scared her. Love made people put on rose-colored glasses, so they couldn’t see the truth until it was too late. She hadn’t seen her husband’s manipulation until it had derailed her swimming career. Jerry’s carelessness had derailed her coaching career—nearly. Not quite yet.
When will you learn? Why couldn’t once be enough?
Sometimes, her mom was right. Tana had to rely on Tana. She couldn’t withstand the whole love-him, change-your-life-for-him, lose-him routine, not again.
It seemed unlikely that Caden had romantic intentions toward her, no matter what Ruby said, but why else would a man be so thoughtful and caring at a time like this?
Because he was her friend?
Ruby was her friend. Shirley was her friend. Bob Nicholls was her friend. They weren’t watching over a bassinet for her in the middle of the night. Caden must have a different motive. He must.
Tana stopped just outside the baby’s room. The nursery had a diaper changing table and a rocking chair. The crib was still in its box, but it was neatly sitting in a corner. The nightlight had a soft pink tint to it. Unlike the chaos in the rest of the house, everything was calm and lovely for the baby.
So was Caden. As he changed the baby’s diaper, he kept up a gentle monologue. His deep voice would have lulled her back to sleep had she not been standing up.
“Shh, let your mommy sleep. Be patient for just another minute. This is only my third diaper change. It’s not like you’re an old pro here, either, little fellow.”
Tana watched from the hallway. Caden’s Texas drawl was more pronounced when he crooned to the baby. Little fellow was liddle fella.
But Sterling was making fussy mewls more earnestly now. The baby hated having his arms and legs free. He had no muscle tone to control them, so they waved around like he was falling.
“All right, all done. See? We survived. Let’s swaddle you up. You’ll be happier that way. Then, I’m gonna lay you down next to your mommy, and everything will be right in your world.” Caden crossed the baby’s arms over his chest like a little Egyptian mummy and kept them secure with one hand, but when he started to pull the bottom of the baby blanket over Sterling’s legs, the baby kicked his little foot into Caden’s palm, pat, pat, pat. Caden stilled it by cupping it in his hand.
Caden went still, too. He looked at his hand. Tana looked at the expression on his face and held her breath.
Then Caden bent his head, lifted his hand and kissed that tiny, perfect foot.
Why was Caden here at three in the morning, taking care of the baby she’d named after him? Because he was falling in love with the baby.
Not with her. He and she were friends; he’d given her the shirt off his back. They were close friends, but just friends. It was the baby with whom he was falling in love.
That, she could handle.
Her sigh of relief was so great that Caden must have heard it. He turned his head toward her as he tucked the baby blanket around Sterling. His gaze roamed over her lightly, quickly, from her hair to her feet. She couldn’t help but remember a Halloween night, Ruby’s confidence: He looked you over from head to toe. He liked what he saw.
She had bedhead from her pillow. She’d pulled on some black maternity leggings, but she still wore his shirt, which had absorbed a little baby spit-up during the evening. He couldn’t like what he saw. She was safe from any complicated, romantic intentions.
“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he said. “Butler service is on its way.”
“I thought you’d want to get back to your own house at midnight.”
He seemed serious in the gentle glow of the nightlight. “I told you ten days ago that I wouldn’t leave you, not if you wanted me to stay.”
It was easier to look at Sterling than at Caden. “I better feed him before he gets too wound up, or else his nose starts to run, and it’s harder when he’s stuffy to get him to…”
As if amniotic fluid and cervical dilation hadn’t been personal enough, now she was about to discuss a baby latching on to her nipple? No. No, she was not.
“I’ll just sit here in the rocking chair,” she said, “since I’m up.”
Caden placed the baby in her arms and left the room, pulling the door shut. Just before it closed, she was seized by a moment of blinding panic, a terror that she wouldn’t see him again.
“Caden.”
He paused.
“Are you leaving?”
“I can hit the road if you want me to.”
Don’t leave me. I can’t walk out of this room and be all alone again. “I don’t have a guest bedroom anymore. Just this nursery.”
“You’ve got a big enough couch. I won’t leave you, not if you want me to stay.”
She could do this alone. She could.
The baby wailed.
“Stay. Please.”
“Good. That’s the right answer.”
In the dim light, she saw him smile to himself as he shut the door.
* * *
The baby fell asleep with his mouth open and still full of milk.
When Tana snapped her top back up, Sterling made a little sucking motion with his perfect bow-shaped lips, swallowing the milk while somehow staying deeply asleep.
Tana carried him into the living room quietly. She didn’t want to disturb a sleeping Caden, but he hadn’t put the bassinet back in her bedroom.
The only light in the living room came from the kitchen. The bassinet was next to an empty couch. Tana laid the baby down.
Caden stuck his head out of the kitchen and saw her. “There you are.”
He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, then came out with two plates. “I thought you could use a little midnight snack at four in the morning.”
“You made scrambled eggs?”
“We ordered that pizza ten hours ago. You’ve got to be at least a little hungry.”
She heard a hum in the kitchen. “Is the dishwasher running?”
“I made sure to load it incorrectly first.” He winked at her, a flirtatious kind of move that looked damn good on him.
He was taking care of her, keeping her company, sharing a little meal in the cozy dark. A man was coming into her life and taking over, handling everything for her. When will you learn?
She ate the scrambled eggs, because she was hungry. She kept her eyes on her plate, because she was older, wiser, and she knew better than to look into a firefighter’s too-handsome face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She had to make herself ask questions. “Why are you doing this? It’s four in the morning. Why are you here?”
“Because we’re friends, and you needed help.”
“It’s too much to expect from a friendship. A friend shouldn’t have to give up everything, even their bed, to help out.”
He finished his last bite, put down his fork and leaned back in the chair, but she didn’t look up. “Firefighters work twenty-four-hour shifts. Sometimes we sleep three hours, even six in our bunks. Some nights, we can only catch naps on the couch or recliners in the station’s game room, because we’re getting calls every couple of hours. I’m used to this. Out of all of your friends, I’m the best one to call when you need a little help at night.”
“I didn’t ask you for help.”
“No, but I offered it. If Shirley offered to wash some dishes and change a diaper or two, would you be fighting yourself this hard to not accept your friend’s help?”
“Shirley is a woman.”
“Ah. So, that’s it.”
Tana kept her head down, kept moving forward. “There’s no chance Shirley and I would…misunderstand one another.” She ate her eggs determinedly, eyes on her plate.
“Do you think it’s impossible for me to be your friend because you’re a girl and I’m a boy?” He asked it with a gentle humor, but when she didn’t respond, he turned serious. “What do you suspect my ulterior motive is here? That I’m trying to rack up points, hoping you’ll invite me into your bed for a little thank you sex, sooner or later?”
She felt embarrassed for thinking it. Her body was flabby in the stomach, instead of hard, and hard in the breasts, instead of soft. She couldn’t have sex for six more weeks, anyway, according to the hospital discharge instructions. Caden, with his medical background, probably knew that. It made his motives all the more baffling.
He shifted in his chair, leaning toward her now. “You asked me why I’m here, so let me answer you. I am sitting here, right now, because that baby is important to me. I held him before he took his first breath. He’s named after me. I can’t do a whole lot for him right now. Only you can, so I figure the best way I can take care of my namesake is to make sure his mother isn’t exhausted and hungry.”
Her plate kept going out of focus. She couldn’t blame tears, because she was not crying. Her eyes were simply too tired to focus.
“That ties into the second reason I’m here. You are my friend, and friends don’t let friends stay exhausted and hungry.”
He was the kind of man who jumped in to help, even if the situation was dangerous. Did he know how dangerous love was? Had any of his real-life ex-girlfriends made him as pretty damned sad as her ex-husband had once made her?
He stood. “Finish your eggs and go to sleep. This isn’t about men and women and sex. I’m just cooking you scrambled eggs. Don’t make more of it than it is.”
He picked up his plate and hers, then walked toward the kitchen.
She addressed the table where her plate had been. “Are you leaving me now?”
He stopped. “No.”
“Is everything still good between us?”
“Everything’s good.”
She picked up her head. She was tired of driving herself forward.
“You’re the nicest man I’ve ever met. I’m lucky to have you as my friend.”
“I’m the lucky one. I get two of you. You only get me.”
It was one of the nicest things she’d ever heard.
Tana wiped her eyes on her—his—sleeve.
“Go to bed,” he said.
She did.