The Baby Project. Grace Green

shrugged. “Fine.”

      He followed her as she led the way along to the kitchen. When she opened the outside door, a startled robin flew off the redwood deck and in a flash of orange, disappeared around the side of the house.

      Mallory crossed to the middle of the spacious deck, where a bench and chairs were arranged around a rectangular wooden table. Taking a seat, she watched as Jordan strode over to the edge of the deck and looked out over the lawn.

      “It’s a big garden.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Must take quite a bit of upkeep.”

      “But it’s wonderful for children. A nice flat lawn—and lots of shrubs and nooks for playing hide-and-seek.”

      “Looks as if it was professionally landscaped, but I remember it as being neglected. Everything overgrown.”

      “It was, but Tom soon licked it into shape. Elsa gave him some tips but he had a green thumb and everything he touched seemed to flourish.”

      Jordan still had his back to her and at mention of Tom his spine stiffened and she sensed a wall of hostility rise between them. He’d had a very low opinion of Tom and he obviously didn’t care to listen to her praise him.

      Well, too bad. She wasn’t about to gloss over her brother’s talents and accomplishments just because Jordan Caine had been so blinkered he hadn’t appreciated the man his sister had married.

      His expression was shuttered when he finally walked back across the deck.

      She’d expected him to sit across from her but instead he came around and leaned his backside against the table beside her, so close that if she’d wanted to, she could have stroked his left thigh. A powerful, tanned, and brawny thigh. If she’d wanted to. Which, she decided as she determinedly raised her gaze, she most definitely did not!

      He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her. “Right,” he said, “let’s discuss our options.”

      She refocused her thoughts and waited.

      “The first,” he went on, “would be to put the kid up for adoption—”

      “No.” She didn’t raise her voice. She just said “No,” very quietly, but in an icy tone that made it clear that this was not, nor ever would be, an option.

      “Okay, no surprise there. Next option, you keep him. You’d have sole custody.”

      She grasped the arms of her chair. “Naturally,” she said, “this would be the option I’d choose.”

      “The only snag being, from your point of view, that you wouldn’t have this house.”

      She’d hoped that the second option would include his letting her rent the house. Her spirits sank as she realized it did not. “That’s a limited option,” she said. “If I didn’t have the house, the best I could afford would be a dingy basement apartment—”

      “The third option,” he plowed on, “would be for me to have custody. I’d keep the house, of course, and—”

      “You?” Stunned, she stared at him. “But you don’t even like babies. You admitted that this morning. You said you didn’t like babies and you wanted nothing to do with—”

      “I didn’t know, at that time, that we were talking about Janine’s baby.” His gray eyes had a steely glint. “We’re talking family here, Mallory. Family, blood ties—”

      “But you said just now that the first option would be to have him adopted—”

      “I threw that in for good measure. Like you, it wasn’t something I’d have considered.”

      Frantically, she tried to keep her cool. “You’re not being consistent. You originally wanted Janine to have him adopted—in fact, you were hell-bent on it! Now you say that one option would be for you to keep him yourself—”

      “Apples and oranges. Yes, I wanted Janine to have her baby adopted, but only because she was too young and immature to take on the responsibility of a child—and because she had her whole life ahead of her. This scenario is totally different. For me, money’s no problem—and,” he added drily, “at the grand old age of thirty-five, my life’s half over.”

      “But—”

      “This baby is my only connection to Janine. I want to be part of his life, and I want him to be a part of mine.”

      “But you spend most of your time abroad!”

      “No problem. I’d hire a nanny to care for him while I’m out of the country—”

      “A nanny?” Mallory’s outraged expression told him exactly what she thought of that idea. “You’d leave Matthew with a stranger? No way! I’ll fight you in court if—”

      “The fourth option,” he interjected smoothly, “would be for the two of us to share custody.”

      She gave a derisive—and most unladylike—snort. “You’re joking, of course!”

      “Do I look as if I’m joking?”

      He did not. His jaw was clamped, his lips compressed, his gray eyes hard as cement.

      “Us? Sharing custody?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. It would never work. We would never get along—”

      “Why not?”

      “Your attitude, for one thing.”

      “What’s wrong with my attitude?”

      “You’re arrogant and rude and controlling and—”

      “You’re stubborn and bloody-minded,” he growled. “And far too romantic for your own damned good!”

      “Romantic?” Where the heck had that come from!

      “You’re looking at this situation through rose-tinted glasses—it’s as if you’d found a baby on your doorstep and you see the two of you living together and being happy ever after. The reality is, you can barely afford to keep him. The reality is a child is better off with two parents.”

      “The reality is that he’d be far better off with one than with two people who’d be sparring constantly the way you and I do! And besides, shared custody would be so unsettling for Matthew it would make his little head spin. He’d have to move back and forth between us, never knowing a real home.”

      “Of course he’d know a real home!” Jordan’s voice was rough with impatience. “If we were to share custody, you’d stay on in this house.”

      Totally taken aback, she stared at him. After several beats, she said, “And you? Where would you fit in?”

      “I’d continue with my work abroad but we’d share responsibility for the baby, make joint decisions regarding his welfare. And I’d visit when I could.”

      She chewed her lip. “You’d consider this your…home?”

      “Uh-uh. Home is where I hang my hat.” His grin was self-mocking. “And I never wear a hat.”

      Looking at him warily, Mallory said, “You’d be happy to leave Matthew with me?”

      “I don’t recall using the word happy. Let’s just say, you’d be right for the job. And he likes you.”

      “But you don’t.”

      “It wouldn’t be necessary for me to like you, Mallory. Or for you to like me.” His gaze narrowed as he searched her face for an answer. “You’d consider it? I myself see shared custody as the best option.”

      “I’d prefer to have sole custody,” she said stubbornly.

      “Even without this house?”

      “I could manage.”

      “As