“Buddy,” Jonah whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”
The kitchen door opened again and in walked a vision in…leggings.
Pepper Broussard was in dance clothes again, her dark hair in the signature messy knot. She had a canvas bag over one shoulder, a pair of ballet slippers over the other.
“I heard there’s an aspiring chef about to go up in flames in here,” she said, strolling in with that insanely adorable smile that almost made everything right in the world.
He couldn’t even think of a quip—which might have been because of his dilemma or maybe because she was cute as a button and he just wanted to…unbutton her.
“Not calling the fire department yet,” he managed, holding up his phone. “But close. Is it true people actually leave babies at the station? Because…”
“Stop.” She dropped her bag and shoes on the table—clearly did not inherit her father’s fastidiousness—and pointed to Atlas, who immediately abandoned his elephant to smile at the new arrival. Some genes were strong.
“Atlas, my sweet little man. Daddy wants to leave you at the firehouse.”
“I won’t, but I’ll…”
“Give up the opportunity of a lifetime?” she asked, then tipped her head toward the door. “I ran into my dad and he filled me in. Pro tip? He loves to squeeze you and see what comes out. It’s like you’re a human tube of toothpaste. Trust me, I’ve been flattened and rolled by him.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for the tip and pity, but I have to?—”
“Pack your knives and give me a diaper bag, bottles, toys, and what I’m guessing is an endless list of instructions that I will promptly ignore. Is that his car seat? We’ll need that.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out because he could not process the offer. No, it was impossible. Too good to be true, and a little more risk than he was willing to take.
“Pepper, I can’t ask you to?—”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.” She looked at him with an expression that was so calm, so certain, that it made the pain in his chest lessen by a fraction. “Please. My dad was downright gleeful and I…I’m a bit of a rebel.”
“You? Never.”
She winked at him, which basically should have been illegal.
“I’m serious, Jonah,” she said, turning to Atlas. “I want to help you and I can take care of him.”
“All afternoon and maybe evening?”
“Well, I have a class to teach at four. I can bring him.”
Bring him?“Where? When? Who’ll be there? Other kids? Sick ones?” Since every other kid in his orbit was contagious.
She laughed and wandered to Atlas, leaning over to look him right in the eyes and watch the poor child melt.
The Lawson men clearly had their kryptonite.
“It’s a very simple class, not the Bolshoi,” she said. “He’ll be fine. Babies love music. May I?” She was already unlatching the safety harness to lift him up. Atlas giggled and kicked his feet happily. “Hello, darling boy. Would you like to spend a Saturday with me?”
Who wouldn’t?
She settled him against her shoulder with that effortless touch he remembered from the first day in Broussard’s office. Atlas snuggled into her neck like he’d been waiting for her, then looked over her shoulder at Jonah with a downright smug look.
Look who I got, Pops.
He lost this battle. Much more time in her arms and he might lose his son, too.
“I have a bag,” Jonah said, his voice strange and tight. “Formula, diapers, the whole kit. He eats at?—”
“When he’s hungry,” she finished. “He’ll tell me. When he’s got a diaper full of something awful, he’ll let me know. When he needs to be held, we will find arms. It’s all good.”
