Come Fly With Me.... Fiona Brand

meet with his. ‘Well, what’s your suggestion, genius? Do you want to call him Dan?’

      She was mocking him. For some reason, she was uncomfortable with this.

      ‘I don’t want to call him Dan. That will just get confusing. I’m trying to make this less confusing, not more.’ He looked at her again; her pacing was slowing. ‘What kind of names do you like?’

      ‘I’m not naming him.’ The words snapped out of her mouth.

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because he’s not my baby.’

      He shook his head. ‘We know this. That’s not the point. Let’s find something we can agree on. Do you like crazy names like Moonwind or Shooting Star? Do you like modern names, celebrity names or something more traditional?’

      Her chin was on the floor. ‘Moonwind? Shooting Star? You’ve got to be kidding?’

      He shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘You forget. I’m a cop in New York. I’ve heard everything.’

      ‘Wow.’ She sat back down on the sofa and picked up the bottle of milk. ‘I’m going to try and give him a little more of this.’ She watched as his mouth closed around the teat and he started to suck. ‘I guess I like more traditional names,’ she finally said.

      ‘Plain? Like John or Joe or Bob?’

      ‘No. They are too plain. Something proud. Something that makes you sit up and take notice.’

      ‘I thought you’d ruled out Moonwind?’

      There was a sparkle in her eyes as she turned to him. ‘How about really traditional? How about something biblical?’

      ‘Now you’re really testing me. I’ll need to think back to my Sunday school days.’

      ‘Then you do that. How about Joseph? Or Isaac, or Jeremiah?’

      He grabbed the first names that sprang into his mind. ‘Noah, or David, or Goliath?’ he countered. He wanted to make her smile again. And it worked. She was sitting up a little straighter. Trying to beat him at this game.

      He could see her start to rack her brains. ‘Peter, Paul or Matthew?’

      ‘Adam, Moses or Joshua?’

      There was silence for a few seconds as they both concentrated hard.

      ‘Abraham.’

      ‘Abraham.’

      Their voices intermingled. And a smile appeared across both their faces.

      Carrie stared down at the baby. ‘Abraham,’ she whispered. ‘Now there’s a proud name. What do you think of that one?’

      He sat down next to her. ‘Abraham, I like it. Also the name of one of our finest presidents. It’s perfect.’

      ‘It does seem perfect.’ She was staring down at the little face as he sucked at the bottle. She nodded. ‘You’re right. We do need to give him a name—even if it’s temporary. What a pity his mum didn’t leave a note with what she’d called him.’ There was a wistfulness in her voice. The sympathy vote that grated on him.

      ‘Might have been better if she’d actually left some clothes. Or some diapers. Or anything at all to show us she cared about her son.’

      Carrie gave the tiniest shake of her head as she eased the bottle out of Abraham’s mouth, then sat him upright, putting her hand under his chin to support his head while she rubbed his back. ‘Let’s see if we can get a burp out of you this time.’

      She turned to face him. ‘You’re really hard on people, Dan. And I find it really strange. You didn’t hesitate to try and help this baby. You weren’t even too upset when Shana told you that you’d need to keep him a while. We have no idea what’s happened here. Can you at least try to give his mother the benefit of the doubt?’

      ‘No.’

      Just like that. Blunt and to the point.

      Abraham arched his back and let out a big burp. ‘Good boy.’ His head started to sag. ‘He’s tired. Maybe we should put him down to sleep.’

      Dan nodded and started folding up the towels he’d pulled from his cupboard, forming a makeshift kind of mattress in the crib. ‘What do you think?’

      ‘Perfect.’ She had to put him down. She had to put him down now. She was starting to feel a little overwhelmed again. A baby cuddling into the nape of her neck and giving little sighs of comfort was making a whole host of emotions wash over her. None that she wanted to share.

      She adjusted Abraham and laid him down in the crib, covering him with the hand-knitted shawl, and held her breath, waiting to see if he would stir.

      It took her a few seconds to realise Dan was holding his breath right next to her.

      But Abraham was out cold. His first feed had been a success.

      ‘Darn it. Do you think we should have changed his nappy again?’

      Dan raised his eyebrows. ‘I think if you touch Abraham right now and wake him up I will kill you.’

      She gave a little laugh. ‘It’s kind of strange, isn’t it? Standing here waiting to see if he’ll wake up again?’

      Dan straightened his back. ‘What time is it?’ He looked over at the kitchen clock. ‘Ten-thirty? Wow. No wonder I’m starved. I haven’t eaten dinner. What about you? Are you hungry, Carrie?’

      She shook her head. ‘Maybe I should go.’

      ‘You are joking, right?’

      She shook her head firmly. All of a sudden there wasn’t a baby as a barrier between the two of them.

      All of sudden there wasn’t a whole lot of space between them. And it was as if a little switch had been flicked.

      Everything about Dan was making her feel self-conscious. How was her hair? Was her make-up still in place?

      She’d spent the past few months going around in a fog. It had never once crossed her mind how she looked to the opposite sex.

      But there was something about Dan. Something about being in close proximity to him that was making her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want to have to think about all those kinds of feelings resurrecting themselves. Not when she knew where they could eventually lead.

      Now, she was fixating on his straight white teeth, the little lines of fatigue around his eyes and the sincerity in his face.

      Then he snapped her out of it by giving her a cheeky wink and folding his arms across his chest. ‘If I have to arrest you, I will.’

      She jolted out of her daze. ‘Arrest me?’

      He smiled. ‘To keep you here. To force you to help me look after Abraham overnight. What do I know about a newborn baby?’

      ‘And what do I know?’ She felt the rage surge inside her along with something else she couldn’t quite work out. ‘Because I’m a woman you think I should know about babies?’

      ‘No.’ His words were firm and strangely calming. They must have taught him that in cop school. How to calm a raging bull. ‘I think you’re another human being and two heads are better than one.’

      It sounded logical. It sounded sensible. And it made all the chauvinistic arguments that had leaped into her head feel pathetic.

      She didn’t want to spend the night with a new baby. How on earth would she cope? It could end up bringing back a whole host of memories she didn’t know how to deal with.

      Then there was Dan. With his short dark hair and big brown eyes that made her skin itch. No, that made her skin tingle.

      Every now and then he flirted with her, as if it was his natural demeanour. Flirting with women was obviously second