Beginning With Baby. Christie Ridgway

Rex still snoozing away, she carefully locked her door, secure in the knowledge that the slightest peep from her baby would carry right through the wall between her place and Jackson’s.

      Still, outside his front door, with a plate of her famous muffins in hand, she hesitated. If she returned to her apartment—

      Today would be a rerun of the day before. She’d be squirming on her seat, thinking of him sleeping just a wall way. Oh, yes. Definitely best to force the focus onto that neighbor idea.

      Unlike yesterday morning he answered her knock right away. Wearing heavy construction boots, jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, he looked both weary and wary. He blinked at her slowly, for a moment hiding the bittersweet chocolate color of his eyes. “Another problem?” he asked gruffly.

      Only if you didn’t like looking at swoonworthy inches of hard, golden chest. Phoebe swallowed. “N-no. I…” Why had she come?

      His gaze flicked down toward her hands and she followed it.

      The muffins. Right. She’d brought muffins. “Here,” she said, holding out the plate.

      He didn’t take it immediately, instead eyeing the gift as if it might be poison. “What’s this?”

      A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. It brought his unapproachability down a notch, which for some weird reason made her babble. “A thank-you. A neighbor—no, zucchini nut—” She broke off, perplexed by her tongue, which kept getting tangled.

      His lips twitched. “A nutty neighbor?” he asked innocently.

      She laughed for him, and her tongue unknotted. “Zucchini nut muffins.”

      He still didn’t take them. “What for?”

      “For you. For helping me out. In appreciation.”

      Rising up on his toes, he peered over her shoulder as if she might be hiding something behind her. “Where is your midget sidekick, anyway? Signed up for Little League already?”

      She shook her head in amusement. “You’ve been hiding your funny side, haven’t you? He’s asleep, believe it or not.” She nudged Jackson’s midsection teasingly with the plate, her gaze suddenly coming to rest on his very male, very naked and very rippling ab muscles.

      God. A strange flush of heat washed over her cheeks.

      His long fingers grabbed the edge of the plate. “Hey,” he said. “I could be ticklish.”

      Phoebe didn’t let go, and sizzling bursts of feminine reaction pinged from place to place in her belly. “Well,” she said, her mouth going dry around the near-flirtatious sound of her voice. “Are you?”

      When he didn’t answer, her gaze slowly crawled up his bare, heavily muscled chest, over his throat and the five-o’clock shadow on his chin. Past his chiseled mouth, his strong nose, to meet his dark, dark eyes.

      She had no idea what was lurking in their depths.

      Her hand loosened from her side of the plate, one finger at a time: thumb, forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, pinkie. In all the long moments that it took, neither one of them blinked.

      Phoebe swallowed and finally let her hand fall. “I should be going.”

      “Yes.”

      Neither one of them moved.

      “I have a baby…” she said lamely.

      “Yes,” he agreed, seeming to understand what she meant.

      “So…” Her feet didn’t obey.

      “Give the little guy my best.”

      “I will.” The little guy. He was her concern now. But she was going to have to initiate a serious discussion with him. And soon. When it was Rex and Phoebe against the world, Rex was going to have to come through for her sometimes. If he insisted on waking up at 2:00 a.m., a few tears to save her at a crucial moment like this would be a nice payback.

      “His father phoned last night,” Phoebe suddenly heard herself saying. She didn’t know why she was telling Jackson. Maybe because there was nobody else to tell.

      His expression went even more unreadable. “Rex’s father?”

      She nodded. “We talked about the baby. I told him how I felt about Rex. That from the first moment I saw him, it was, well…I can’t explain it.”

      He shrugged. “Nature made babies to appeal to us.”

      “It was more than that.” It had just felt right, from the very beginning. “He still wants some time he said, but I’m not going to worry.” She brightened now, just thinking about the possibilities. “Things have a way of working out, don’t you think?”

      “You are young,” he murmured under his breath.

      “I’m hopeful.” She smiled at him. “And a good cook. Enjoy.” With a nod at the muffins, she made herself turn back toward home.

      Hopeful, good cook and hopeless romantic, she thought, as she heard his door click firmly and without hesitation behind her. But that last minor problem was solved. In the course of a few pulse beats, her silly little heart had thrown out a few questions that had been quite simply—and sensibly—answered by the hard man with the daddy’s touch.

      “I should be going,” she’d said.

      And he’d replied, “Yes.”

      After returning to her apartment, Phoebe went through the motions of her normal day. Midmornings she had started taking Rex out for a bit of fresh air. After Teddy’s first phone call, she’d realized that if Rex was going to be around for a while, she’d have to come up with some sort of routine for herself and the baby. So at about ten each day, she put him in the stroller she’d bought and rolled the baby down the block to the small and shady city park.

      Serendipitously, that first morning, she’d run into an acquaintance from one of her college classes, Lisa. The other woman had a baby a few months older than Rex, and she’d organized a neighborhood play group that had a daily meeting time of ten, and a designated meeting location of the sandbox to the left of the swings. Mothers and their children made it to the play group the days they could, and all had immediately welcomed Phoebe and Rex.

      One of the last to arrive today, Phoebe found an open spot among the mothers and children, then spread out the little quilt she’d carried under her arm. Next she set down Rex and his diaper bag. His eyes wide, he stared at her, seemingly mesmerized by her hair stirring in the breeze.

      After an initial greeting, the conversations resumed around her. Older children rushed by with sand toys in their hands, and crawling babies explored the connected and multicolored worlds of the various quilts.

      Lisa, baby Andrea on her hip, plunked herself down beside Phoebe. “How’s it going today?”

      Phoebe smiled at her new friend. It still amazed her how even pseudo motherhood created such instant bonds. “So much better. I’m starting to get the hang of keeping him happy.”

      Lisa nodded. “It takes a while.” She chucked the serious Rex under the chin, and the baby’s lips quirked in an automatic smile. “He looks great.”

      Phoebe studied her little charge. Downy dark hair, silky eyebrows, eyes turning browner by the day.

      “You know, I think he’s starting to look like you,” Lisa said.

      “Worse.” Phoebe smiled, her heart aching a little. “He’s starting to feel like mine.”

      As she’d tried to explain to both Teddy and Jackson, that had happened nearly instantly, too. She hadn’t anticipated it and couldn’t explain it, but something strange had occurred the moment she’d held him. Her heart had bloomed, and this tender, almost painful love had poured out. For a woman who had always wanted a family desperately and who had been lonely for too long, it was a feeling both unignorable