Too Friendly to Date. Nicole Helm

of course, there he was, holding a freaking adorable baby on his hip. Might as well have a puppy lying at his feet and dinner he made on the stove. While doing the ironing.

      Well, not with the baby nearby.

       Get a grip, you lunatic.

      “Hey, you didn’t tell me it was a baby day. I would have put off errands.” Probably not, but she was happy for her friends. Adopting little Presleigh had been something the pair had been working toward for a long time.

      And here they were, a pretty little family. She’d focus on that instead of Jacob cooing at a baby. Because, really, karma was a bitch.

      “You want a turn to hold her?” Kelly asked.

      “Oh, she’s going to need to firm up a bit before you let me near her.”

      Susan rolled her eyes, but smiled.

      God, babies made her uncomfortable. All that love and need and...expectation. She’d done a pretty good job of hiding that fact from Kelly and Susan, using humor to mask her discomfort. Lack of experience to excuse holding or interacting too much with the gorgeous bundle of blankets.

      “How can you be afraid of babies?” Jacob demanded, smiling broadly at Presleigh.

      Leah was pretty sure this was killing her. “I’m not afraid. They’re just all soft and...bobbly. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

      “It’s easy.”

      “Oh, don’t push her. It is something to get used to if you haven’t been around babies much. I think it took me a week to stop shaking every time I picked her up.” Kelly gave Leah a reassuring smile.

      Presleigh fussed and Jacob easily maneuvered her onto his shoulder, crooning soothing words and patting her back.

      Leah was pretty sure her ovaries exploded.

      And then the baby spit up a bunch of white curdly goo down Jacob’s shoulder and back. Ick. Ovaries back in place.

      “Well, that is unpleasant,” Jacob said, though his tone was amused rather than upset. He handed the baby off to Susan, grabbed a rag out of a drawer and tried to wipe off the offensive fluids.

      “Give me a hand here, huh?”

      Aw, crap, he meant her. Leah crossed to him and took the rag and gingerly wiped at the spot on Jacob’s back. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and for the love of God, why was she blushing at that? Because you are loony tunes, Santino.

      “There,” she muttered, handing the rag back to him, avoiding all eye contact.

      Jacob’s phone dinged. “Conference call,” he said, and since she refused to look at him she had no idea if he was looking at her or what. And then he left, thank God. Her whole body relaxed, until she turned to face Kelly and Susan.

      Susan stood next to a sitting Kelly, who was now bouncing the baby on her lap, but all three of them were staring at her, heads cocked in identical scrutiny. Okay, not the baby, but Leah wouldn’t put it past the itty-bitty creature with big blue eyes to be scrutinizing, too.

      “So...” Kelly offered.

      “So what?” Leah crossed her arms defensively.

      “Did you guys sleep together or something?”

      “What?” Leah screeched.

      “That was weird. Like...sex weird.”

      “No, it wasn’t. We did not have sex, and we’re not going to have sex, you nut jobs. I just...asked him a kind of weird favor and we’re still working everything out.”

      “Was the favor sex?”

      “Good Lord. Do you have sex on the brain? And should you even be talking about sex around your baby? Isn’t that kind of wrong?”

      Kelly shrugged. “Maybe.”

      “He’s...just going to pretend to be my boyfriend while my family is here. It’s nothing. Except a little weird. But definitely not sex weird.”

      Kelly and Susan exchanged a look and Leah groaned. “Save me your married looks and your disbelief. It’s just...it’s just...”

      Kelly and Susan waited expectantly, but Leah didn’t even know what she was arguing at this point. She was flustered and embarrassed and about two seconds away from confessing the weird pseudokiss last night. Because these were her friends and usually she confided in them about all manner of man stuff, but this was all wrapped up in stuff she told nobody.

      Besides, if she confessed the fake kiss, then they’d really think this was about sex. “It’s nothing. I have work to do.” She stomped off and repeated those seven words over and over in her head, hoping desperately that they were true.

      * * *

      LEAH WASN’T GOING to like it, but Jacob was used to doing things Leah didn’t like. And, okay, maybe he got a little thrill out of riling her up. Maybe.

      He stood on her porch trying to ignore the prick of conscience. This was a little bit of a line cross, especially considering he’d kissed her last night. And she had acted incredibly uncomfortable around him all day.

      He supposed that should bother him. But it didn’t. Not in the way it should. He didn’t feel bad or want to get rid of it.

      He wanted to explore it. He wondered, way too much in the span of twenty-four hours, What exactly might be the harm? Aside from screwing everything up, remember?

      He was having a hell of a time remembering.

      He knocked on Leah’s door. Kyle’s and Grace’s disapproving faces annoyingly popped into his mind, but he pushed them away. He wasn’t a complete and utter moron. He could keep his hands to himself.

      He could also not keep his hands to himself without ruining everything.

      Okay, if history served, that wasn’t true at all, but he’d never exactly gotten handsy with someone he’d been friends with first before.

      And when you were a twenty-eight-year-old man using the word handsy in your internal monologue, you really, really needed to get a grip.

      “What are you doing here?” Leah demanded, not even opening the door the entire way. In fact, she seemed to be using it as somewhat of a shield.

      Jacob held up his toolbox. “We have work to do.”

      “I told you—”

      “And you really thought I’d let that stand in my way?” He shifted from foot to foot. “I’m freezing very important bits off here. Please let me in.”

      She cursed and grumbled, but the door swung open and he stepped into the warmth of her cluttered entryway. She was wearing an oversize sweatshirt, baggy sweatpants and her hair was a haphazard mess on her head.

      He made himself look at her face instead of the freckled shoulder exposed by the too-big neckline of her sweatshirt.

      “You know Friday is only three days away, right?”

      She glared at him. “Cleanliness isn’t my strong suit. I get it. I’m trying to work on it, but—”

      “But it’s impossible to put your shoes where they belong?”

      “But I like doing things my way. Which is why I don’t want you butting in on that third room.”

      “I can’t take it. It’s eating me alive. Just sitting there in disrepair. Let me. Please.” He grinned at her because he knew at least this was their common ground. House stuff. Restoration. They could disagree about everything but this passion they shared.

      Do not think about the word passion.

      She pressed her lips together in the way she did when she was trying not to smile. Some days he tried to poke out the smile as much