Found: One Baby. Cathy Thacker Gillen

wanted to tell her what was on his mind, but just couldn’t figure out how.

      Michelle smiled, utterly besotted.

      “Try the bottle again,” Thad said.

      Knowing a point had to be made here, Michelle did.

      William took a taste, then again pushed the bottle away with his lips and tongue. Michelle tried once more. William once more refused it. “I think we should warm it,” she reiterated.

      “One problem.” Thad walked toward the rear of the house. She followed with William and the bottle. Unlike her kitchen, his hadn’t been upgraded in many years. The cabinets were painted white, and the walls were covered with a yellow-orange-and-brown-plaid wallpaper. A yellow-laminate-topped breakfast set with padded vinyl chairs were so retro they were back in fashion. The appliances were similarly dated. Even the faded yellow curtain above the sink looked like it had been there since his mother was alive. The only new items in the kitchen were a toaster and a matching coffeemaker.

      “I don’t know how to warm a bottle,” Thad continued.

      “Let me guess. You’ve never done any babysitting, either.”

      “I’ve been around kids.”

      “Not the same thing.”

      “Apparently not,” he conceded.

      The silence was contentious. And veering dangerously toward flirtation again. It made her nervous. “Are you paying attention?” she asked.

      “Close attention.”

      Okay, so he still desired her as much as she desired him. It didn’t mean they were going to act on it. She gave him the bottle. Their fingers brushed. She felt the heat of his body all the way to her toes. Swallowed. “Actually, maybe you should do this,” she told him. “That way it will be easier for you to remember.”

      All business now, he said, “Okay.”

      “They make bottle warmers, but we don’t have one, so we’re going to do it the old-fashioned way. There was a pretty bowl here earlier…”

      “That belongs to Violet Hunter.”

      Why was Michelle not surprised?

      “She brought me some chili in it earlier in the week and I keep forgetting to take it back. She called after you left, offering to come by and get it tonight, but I told her I’d bring it to her at the hospital. Now, if you want me to go out to my car and get it…”

      Michelle shook her head. Best he return the bowl to the lovesick nurse as soon as possible. “Where do you keep your bowls?”

      He opened a cupboard, revealing a mismatched assortment of dishes, and handed one over.

      Michelle shook her head. “That’s a cereal bowl. It’s way too shallow.” She paused. “Surely you’ve got mixing bowls.”

      Thad gave her the blank look of a man who did not know his way around a kitchen. Michelle tried a simpler approach. “Where do you keep your pots and pans?”

      This he knew. He pointed to a lower cabinet.

      Michelle handed William to Thad and knelt to see what was there. Plenty, as it turned out, although again, everything there was at least thirty years old. She took out a saucepan, carried it to the sink and filled it with very warm tap water. She set the bottle in the pan, so the water covered the contents.

      Thad leaned in, over her shoulder. “And now?”

      “We wait.”

      Thad edged closer, smiling down at the baby. “How will we know when the bottle’s the right temperature?” he asked as he and the baby made goo-goo eyes at each other.

      “We’ll keep testing it. It should only take a few minutes.”

      “Hear that, William?” Thad gently caressed the little one’s cheek. “Your dinner will be ready shortly.”

      Three minutes later, the formula was the right temperature. They returned to the living room.

      Thad sat down to give William his bottle. William made a face and pushed the nipple right back out.

      “Now what’s wrong?” Thad asked.

      Michelle could only guess. “Maybe William senses you’re uncertain.”

      Thad didn’t deny that could be the problem. “Maybe you should give it a try again,” he said.

      Figuring the little one had waited long enough for his feeding, Michelle sat down next to Thad on the sofa. He handed the baby to her. She shifted William so he was in a semi-upright position, resting in the crook of her arm. “We know you’re hungry,” she said, putting the nipple to his lips. William just stared at her, still refusing to drink. “You’re not going to be able to go back to sleep until you take this bottle,” Michelle said softly, gently rubbing the nipple back and forth across his lips. “So give it a try, little guy.”

      Still watching her, William opened his mouth, took the nipple and began to suck. Twenty minutes and two burps later, William had downed all three ounces.

      “I guess he was hungry,” Thad mused.

      Reluctantly Michelle handed the baby back to him. She knew she shouldn’t be getting this involved in something that was essentially not her problem, but she really wished she could stay right here with the two of them, or better yet, take William home with her.

      Reminding herself that was not an option, Michelle stood. “He should be good for three hours,” she said.

      “Sure you don’t want to stay the night? We could have a slumber party.”

      The image of Thad in his pj’s was all she needed to throw her overheated senses into overdrive. She quickened her pace. “Nice try.”

      William in his arms, he followed her into the foyer. “What should I do if he starts crying again?”

      Michelle paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Generally speaking, if William is unhappy, it’s one of four things—he’s wet, hungry, sleepy or in need of comfort and reassurance. Just go down the list, and if all else fails, just talk to him.”

      Thad said, a tender note in his tone, “He likes your voice.”

      And I like yours, Michelle thought, realizing how easily she could get used to being around Thad.

      She smiled. “He’ll like yours, too, if he hears it often enough.”

      “Thanks for coming over.” Thad shot her a look full of gratitude. “For helping. For everything.”

      Unwillingly Michelle flashed back to another man, another time, and gratitude that had been mistaken for something else. She hardened her defenses, knowing she had to be careful. “Try to get some sleep.” She opened the door.

      “Can I call you in an emergency?” he asked as Michelle swept into the darkness of the cloudy spring night.

      She nodded, throwing the words over her shoulder. “But only if it’s an emergency.”

      MICHELLE HALF EXPECTED Thad to call her every three hours through the night. He didn’t. Several times she got up and went to the window and looked across the street to his home. At eleven, two and five, the lights were on, and the rest of the time the house was dark. Which probably meant, she thought, that William was sleeping between feedings.

      Telling herself that was good—Thad could easily handle parenting William on his own, after all—Michelle forced herself to go back to bed each time and try to get some sleep.

      When the alarm went off at six, it was a relief. She skipped her usual morning run and headed for the shower. At seven, Thad and William were at her door.

      Soon after, they were off, Michelle and Thad sitting in the front of his BMW SUV, William sleeping contentedly in the middle of the rear