The Baby Consultant. Anne Marie Winston

“You might be sorry you weren’t able to sweet-talk me into keeping your baby, but you’re not sorry you tried to con me into the job. Do you realize how shallow you seem? You’ve spent your whole life using your charm to get women to do your bidding, haven’t you? I bet ninety percent of your clientele is female, because they’re easier for you to manipulate than other men.”

      “You’d lose the bet.” His voice was as chilly as hers was heated.

      “You never expected me to refuse, did you? You just assumed that because I loved your baby—and yes, I admit I’m wild about children—I’d be happy to help you out once you batted your eyes at me and smiled.” She held open one of the doors leading to the shop out front. “Too bad for you I’ve met charmers before. As a breed, you’re distinctly unimpressive. Now, if you’ll leave, I have work to do.”

      Jack’s face was grim. He hesitated for a moment, and Frannie was shaken by the black fire in his eyes. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

      He moved toward the door, and again she was struck by how graceful he was for a big man. As he reached her, she stepped back so he could pass, but he paused, forcing her to look up to meet his eye. And even though she knew he was deliberately using his size to intimidate her, she quailed inwardly. She only hoped it didn’t show, and she lifted her chin higher in defiance.

      “You’re wrong about me, but you were right about one thing. I’m not sorry I tried to con you into keeping Alexa. My biggest concern is finding someone who will love her as much as I do. I knew she’d be safe—and loved—with you.”

      He turned and brushed through the doors, and her whole body sagged as the angry electricity in the air went with him.

      She absolutely could not stand him. She should be pleased with herself that she had stood up to him. Instead, his final words echoed in her ears, making her feel small and mean—and guilty.

      The rat. He probably knew exactly what he was saying, and how it would affect her.

      

      The match was tied, 3 to 3. As he sprinted down the lacrosse field, one eye on the lacrosse ball, Jack caught his attention wandering away from the game. It wandered toward the same place it had about every thirty seconds throughout the match—toward the bleachers off to the right, where Frannie Brooks had sashayed her little butt up onto a bench right before the game began.

      He’d been so shaken up when he first saw her that the coach had to call his name three times to get his attention. What in tarnation was she doing at his match? He was positive he’d never seen her here before. For about ten minutes, he’d entertained the fantasy that she’d sought him out, that she had come to apologize for the things she’d said almost two weeks ago—eleven days, if anybody was counting.

      Which he wasn’t. The opinion of one girl with wide, serious eyes, the most kissable mouth he’d ever seen and incredibly sexy legs didn’t matter one whit to him.

      After a few minutes of watching her, while waiting for the match to begin, he realized that she was with the sister of one of his teammates, Dee Halleran—no, she was married now. Or at least she had been. Her brother had said she was divorced.

      Just then, Dee said something to Frannie as she turned and pointed straight at him. Frannie looked at him, too, and he saw the shock in her face. There was no way she had known he would be here, he could tell, and she apparently hadn’t recognized him beneath his face mask. Dee waved, but he pretended he didn’t see her as the coach gathered the players for last-minute strategy. It must be simple chance that Dee had invited her to come along. He knew they were acquainted because Dee had been the one to refer Frannie to him.

      Just then, another attackman passed off to him. He caught the pass easily with his stick and barely had time to send it hurtling toward the goal before the center from the opposing team came at him with bared teeth and narrowed eyes, slamming him hard in the chest and knocking him to the ground.

      A scream went up from the sidelines. His teammates were dancing around—ridiculous behavior for a bunch of big guys in face masks—and one man extended a hand to help him off the ground. “Way to go, buddy!” He pounded Jack on the back.

      Jack winced. He was getting too darn old for this sport. He’d said that every year for the past five, but this year he meant it. Next season, the only way he’d be stepping onto a lacrosse field was as a coach.

      Turning toward the bench, he gathered his stuff into his oversize duffel. Now where the heck was the woman who was watching Lex? She’d reluctantly agreed to keep Alexa during the matches so that he could finish the season, and he knew why. She was as competitive as her husband. If Jack didn’t play and the lineup changed at this late date, it would shake everybody’s confidence. And that would be a bad thing right before the championships.

      He spotted the woman’s blond hair at the far end of the bleachers. Shouldering his duffel, he headed her way.

      “Hey, there,” the sitter said as he approached. “I think your kid needs to be changed.”

      She held Alexa out and plopped her into his arms, then slipped the diaper bag over his shoulder atop the duffel as he peered down at the baby, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Though she did indeed smell as if a diaper switch was in order.

      “What’s the matter, honey?” Her husband came up behind her, turning her into his arms and kissing her. “Does that baby make you nervous?”

      “You know it.” She laughed. “It’s going to be a few more years before I’m ready for the kind of commitment a baby takes.”

      He smiled down at her in an intimate manner that Jack envied. “I think we need a few more years to practice, anyway, just to be sure we’re going about making babies the right way.”

      They had their arms around each other’s waists as they walked away. It was easy to admit he envied them. He’d wanted that kind of closeness once, and for a while he thought he had it. A short while.

      But he didn’t want to go down memory lane tonight. What he wanted was to talk to Frannie Brooks. Actually, he’d almost be content with the view, he thought, assessing her legs exposed by the shorts she wore. He stopped beside Deirdre, who was talking to her brother.

      As he smiled at the two women before him, he was feeling a little jumpy around the edges. Much as he hated to admit it, he owed Frannie an apology. He’d been planning to call her, but this was better.

      “Hi, Jack.” Deirdre greeted him with a warm smile, her heart-shaped face lighting up. She looked... worn down. Not just tired from too little sleep, but wiped out, as if she was running on nerves, having depleted her reserves of energy. Surveying her two little boys, who were racing up and down the field with a couple of sticks they’d sneaked off with when the owners weren’t looking, he could see why. Those two would keep anybody on the edge of insanity.

      “Hi, Dee.” Wrapping his free arm about her shoulders, he gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. “How are you?” It wasn’t a routine courtesy; he was concerned. He’d known her since they were kids, and he knew things hadn’t turned out well between her and the jerk she had married. She hadn’t been to a game all season, which was unusual in itself.

      “Passable.” She brushed off his query and indicated the woman standing silently to one side. “You’ve met Frannie, I believe.”

      “Hello, Jack.” Her voice was quiet but not as frigid as he’d expected. Or as frigid as he deserved, maybe. She had been right to be ticked off by his assumption that she could fit a baby into her schedule more easily than he could. He couldn’t figure how he’d come to that idiotic conclusion; fatigue was his only defense. He’d been so wiped out after dealing with the estate and taking on Alexa his brain cells were making faulty connections.

      “Hi, Frannie.” He should apologize, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Her little nose was so straight he thought he might have to run a finger down it just for fun, and her eyes were as flirty as ever above the lush curve of her lips, though he was