A Baby in the Bargain (9 page)

“And you were just six... How was that for you? I don’t suppose you cared a lot about being a Camden or having the world at your disposal then. You were probably just a scared little kid...”

“Yeah,” Jani said because it was true. “A lot of it is sort of a blur—I remember being taken to GiGi’s house with my brothers, that my cousins were all there, too. I remember that something didn’t feel right, even though we were all at GiGi’s often enough that it shouldn’t have raised any red flags. I remember H.J. sitting in a chair, looking really old and sick—”

“His back was hurt,” Gideon pointed out.

“But I’d seen him since his back had been hurt and this was different. Margaret and Louie were there, too, and Margaret stayed really close to GiGi—for support, I’m sure. But at the time I was wondering why Margaret and GiGi were holding hands. And I remember a box of tissues on the coffee table—we were all in the living room and there weren’t ever tissues in the living room...”

Jani laughed a sad little laugh. “It’s weird the things that stick with you. Then GiGi told us what had happened. She had to explain to the triplets and me that it meant our mothers and fathers wouldn’t ever be coming home—”

“At six you didn’t have much of a concept of death.”

“None. GiGi sort of bucked up then, told us we were all moving there to live with her, that we were all still family and would go on as a family—with Margaret’s and Louie’s help. The funerals, the time after that isn’t clear in my mind. Then all of our stuff showed up at GiGi’s. I shared a room with my two girl cousins, Lindie and Livi, who are also two of the three triplets. Sharing a room was new for me, I’d had my own room until then. The seven boy cousins were split up into two other rooms, and that was it—we all lived together from them on.”

“Happily?”

“Just like any other family. At first things were a mess and I didn’t help matters.”

“What did you do?”

“Everyone would probably disagree with this, but it seemed to me that I had the most problems adjusting. Lindie and Livi had always had each other, had shared a room, and they were sort of their own little support system, while I was the third wheel. The boys—my brothers and my other cousins—were all...boys. They did a lot of keeping a stiff upper lip, not showing much, telling me not to be such a baby when I did get upset. So I felt kind of...alone, as strange as that may sound when I was living in a house with nine other kids and four adults.”

“You were still just six years old and pretty much odd man out,” Gideon summarized sympathetically.

“And dealing with the death of the two most important people in my life. I acted out—I was basically just a brat. I had nightmares and my screaming would wake up the whole house. And then there was the sleepwalking—”

“You’re a sleepwalker?”

“Not since I was about eight. But until then, going to sleep in my bed didn’t mean that was where they’d find me in the morning. Or where I’d wake up.”

His smile was sad and sympathetic, but amused, too. “Where
did
you wake up?”

“In bathtubs, under beds, in the attic, outside. The weirdest was in the clothes dryer—Margaret found me there one morning. It was an industrial-sized dryer and luckily I hadn’t closed the door or I guess I might have suffocated. Poor GiGi—that one really scared her. She didn’t know what to do with me. For everyone else, talking to a therapist was optional, but I
had
to. Which I hated—”

“But did it help?”

“I think it just helped GiGi feel like she was doing
something
when she didn’t know what else to do. And after the dryer incident she had an alarm put on our bedroom door. It only sounded in her room if the door was opened, so everyone else could sleep, but she’d know if I was on the move and coax me back to bed before I got into any trouble.”

“Smart.”

“Yep, GiGi is that, too,” Jani said proudly.

“So when did everything calm down? Or did it?”

“It did. Eventually it got as calm as a house with that many kids in it ever gets. But I think it took about two years. Until then the best I can say is that there were good days and bad. For all of us, really, even though I was mostly figuring it was me who had it bad.” Jani laughed at her own self-centeredness.

“When did H.J. start impressing upon you all that you had a responsibility to take over the company—when you were just a little kid or—?”

“Pretty soon after we started living with him and GiGi. He had to come out of retirement and go back to running the business right after the plane crash—everyone who had been doing it was gone. But he was eighty-eight at the time.”

“Wow, and he was still
able
to go back to work?”

“His mind was sharp until a few months before he died, so that wasn’t a problem. Physically it was more difficult for him, so he established a group of people he trusted to do most of his legwork. He also enlisted those same people to take care of things if and when something happened to him, to mentor all of us until we could handle the business ourselves.”

“Did you have a choice?”

There was some criticism in Gideon’s question that H.J. didn’t deserve, and Jani defended her grandfather. “It wasn’t easy on him, either. He’d lost his only son, his two grandsons—not only his family, but the people he’d relied on in business, too. He was eighty-eight
and he had to go back to work. GiGi and H.J. just did what they had to do for all of us. Maybe, because of how things ended up, we fell into more responsibilities than we might have had otherwise, but he did what he had to do.”

Her voice had grown soft again as she finished, and when she glanced at Gideon, he was watching her with a new sort of expression on his face that made her think he might be torn, that maybe he was seeing something for the first time that he didn’t really want to see.

“I suppose pain and suffering and loss are the same no matter who you are,” he said then.

“It isn’t easy for anybody to send their family off on a vacation and just have them not come back.”

“No, I suppose not,” he conceded.

“But,” Jani continued, “we were also lucky to have each other. Lucky to have GiGi and a place to go. A place where we could all go together. And someone who was willing to take on ten of us at the same time she was dealing with her own grief and caring for her aging father-in-law.”

“Ten kids...” Gideon marveled. “I can’t imagine that. One is more of a handful than you think it’s going to be....”

“GiGi has a big house but ten kids is still a lot, yeah.”

“And did you stay the odd man out the whole time?”

“No, eventually we all settled in and found our way. We actually became one really solid family. Lindie, Livi and I are like sisters. And for better or worse, my boy cousins became more like brothers so I ended up with seven brothers instead of three.”

“That’s a lot,” Gideon marveled.

“Yeah, you have never really been tortured until you’ve had your face held in a bag filled with the smelly socks of seven teenage boys.”

“Oh, that would be bad!” Gideon commiserated even as he laughed.

At that moment the staff from the library came to help them box books and return what hadn’t sold to the basement of the small old stone structure. Jani and Gideon had been so involved in talking that they hadn’t noticed that the afternoon was ending—the crowd had dwindled and the rest of the booths were closing down.

That ended their conversation as they both went to work alongside the library staff.

When they were finished moving the books and folding and stacking the tables for the crew that was coming in to break down the flea market, Gideon walked Jani to the parking lot in the waning light.

“Busy tonight?” he asked casually.

“Only with cleaning a day’s worth of old book dust and the great outdoors off my body and out of my hair,” she answered.

“How about if after that, you come over to my place and I fix you dinner?”

That caught Jani off guard. They’d reached her car and she felt sure that her surprise showed in her expression when she looked up at Gideon’s face to see if he was serious. “You’re inviting me to dinner? At your place?”

He smiled as if he’d known all along how she would take that. “I am,” he confirmed. “You worked hard today, you’ve worked hard every time you’ve come up against my grudge stuff—seems like that should have earned you something in return. Plus, picturing the six-year-old girl you were, sleepwalking and ending up in a dryer...I know I’ve been giving you a lot of flak and you’ve been taking it like a trouper, when maybe things haven’t always been a picnic for you, either. I think maybe I need to cut back on the flak and give you just a little slack instead.”

A concession...

“Wow,” Jani said.

“Don’t think I’m absolving that great-grandfather of yours of anything, though, because I’m not,” he warned, the simple statement enough to bring a hint of rancor to his tone. Then the rancor was quickly replaced by kindness again. “But you...I’m gonna do my damnedest to separate the two of you some...”

Only some.

Still, some was more than none and Jani would take what she could get.

And going to his place, seeing how he lived, the private side of his life—that seemed like a part of this errand she was on.

Jani didn’t hate the idea of cleaning up and spending the evening with him, either.

So she said, “You cook?”

“Nothing gourmet, but yeah, I can put together something pretty edible.”

Jani pretended to think about it, then said, “Okay. Where do you live?”

“I’ll text you the address and directions. I’m just outside of downtown, in the lofts that overlook the city.”

“That’s easy enough—I have a house in Cherry Creek.”

“Say...eight o’clock? That’ll give me time to shower and do some cooking.”

“Okay,” Jani agreed.

A gust of winter wind whipped around them just then, blowing Jani’s hair across her face. She reached for it but Gideon beat her to it, hooking an index finger in the long strand to pull it away and just barely brushing her cheek in the process.

That scantest of touches sent a bit of a tingle through her. And when her hair was back in place and she looked up into Gideon’s eyes, somehow he seemed nearer.

“Thanks,” she said, wondering suddenly how he could have worked outside, in the open, all day long, and still look as good as he did. Because he
did
look good—all rugged and ruddy with just a little stubble of beard that only added to his handsome appeal.

Then, when it was the last thing she expected, he kissed her again.

Like the night before, it came out of nowhere.

But unlike the night before, this kiss wasn’t over almost before it began. This kiss lingered. It was still only the lightest press of his mouth to hers, but it was enough for her to register it. To learn that his lips were warm and supple. And very, very adept. They were parted slightly, and she answered by raising her chin to him, parting her lips slightly, too, as she kissed him back...

But just for a moment before he ended the kiss. He didn’t hurry—instead it was a lazy sort of ending. He removed his lips from hers and gradually stood up straight as if he were coming out of a daze.

“I really did appreciate your help today,” he said, implying that’s what the kiss had been for.

“You’re welcome...” Jani said in a soft voice, still under the influence of that kiss.

“And I’m sorry you lost your parents when you were just a little kid—I didn’t say that before, but I’m saying it now. It was a raw deal of your own.”

Jani merely shrugged her shoulders in response as his green eyes held hers in a moment that felt close and fleetingly intimate.

Then Gideon stepped back and it was business as usual. “I’ll see you at eight.”

“Can I bring something?”

“Wine, if you’ve got it. But don’t make a special trip if you don’t.”

“Wine,” Jani repeated to help herself remember.

“And come comfortable—this isn’t... It’s no big deal.”

It isn’t a date? Is that what he’d been going to say?

But of course it wasn’t a date. If it was she’d have to refuse to go...

“Comfortable clothes, no big deal—got it,” she repeated.

“See you then.”

“At eight,” Jani repeated as Gideon turned and headed for his car parked a few spots away from hers.

She got into her sedan then, thinking,
Dinner at eight. In comfortable clothes. No big deal...

And not a date.

But he’d kissed her...

Twice now.

Kissing did not belong in any of this.

And she couldn’t figure out why he’d done it.

Twice!

Or why today she’d kissed him back when she should have put a stop to it instead.

“Nothing this confusing can be good...” she muttered.

And yet nowhere in any of what she was feeling could she find regret for their kiss today.

No matter how hard she looked.

Or how much she knew it should be there.

Nope, no regret.

But what she did find was an alarming desire to have it happen again.

In spite of everything in her shouting that it shouldn’t.

Chapter Seven

I
t isn’t a date...

It isn’t a date...

It isn’t a date...

After paying close attention to every little detail when she’d showered, shampooed her hair and dressed for dinner at Gideon’s place—and after racing to get there—Jani was still sitting in her car in the parking garage of his apartment building. It was five minutes until eight o’clock and she was resisting the urge to rush to the elevator. Forcing herself to remember that this was not a date.

Okay, yes she’d worn clothes she would have worn if this
was
a date. A casual date. She had on her best jeans—the ones she’d paid an arm and a leg for in Paris because no jeans had ever fit her the way these did. And she had on the cashmere sweater Lindie had given her for Christmas—it was black, just tight enough to show off her assets and it had the perfect, tall, neck-hugging turtleneck. She and Lindie and Livi all agreed that it made her look like some kind of sophisticated, sexy cat burglar.

She’d taken special pains with her hair, letting it air dry and fluffing it every twenty minutes until the waves were all just right, so that it fell around her face and shoulders exactly the way she liked it to.

The outdoor air had left her without a need for blush, but she’d used a tiny amount of eye shadow and liner to go with her usual mascara to accentuate her eye. And she’d applied her new pale mauve gloss.

The entire time she’d been primping, she’d continued to remind herself that this wasn’t a date. That she had a job to do with Gideon, that that was the only reason she’d accepted his invitation tonight.

But she was well aware that in between those reminders, she’d also been thinking about his amazing green eyes and his chiseled features and his broad shoulders and his big hands and the softness of his lips when he’d kissed her....

And the fact that he’d kissed her.

And that she’d liked it...

“It isn’t a date,” she said out loud in the silence of her car. “This is going nowhere. I have a job to do, I’m doing it, when it’s done this guy won’t even exist for me anymore.”

All true.

But it didn’t help. Her stomach was still aflutter and she wanted to run—not walk—to the elevator that would get her to his place so she could see him again.

“Dial it back,” she cautioned herself.

And then she used her secret weapon.

She closed her eyes, pictured the nursery she had planned. She pictured holding her baby in her arms. She felt the love she knew she would feel for it—boy or girl, it didn’t matter. She saw herself at the park, watching children play and knowing one of them was hers. She saw herself as a mother. The mother she wanted to be more than anything.

And that did help.

Yes, she was increasingly more attracted to Gideon with every minute they spent together.

Yes, she thought he might be attracted to her in spite of who she was and the family history that was a thorn in his paw.

But that was all incidental. It was all just a brief blip on the radar and it would pass. In the end, amends would be made and they would go their separate ways.

And really, she reasoned, it was helpful that the icy wall had melted between them but it didn’t have any greater meaning. Last night, she’d garnered a lot of information about Gideon’s family and the effects H.J.’s actions had had on them. It was invaluable in her getting to know Gideon and how best to compensate the single living relative of Franklin Thatcher in order to make her family’s amends. The fact that she wasn’t dreading being with him to do the job was also a plus.

But all this didn’t change the grand design of her life.

So she had to make sure that things with Gideon didn’t heat up any more than they already had.

Which meant no more kissing.

But now that she knew the first time hadn’t just been a fluke, that he’d been inclined to do it again, she told herself to just be on the alert so she could avoid it happening from now on.

It isn’t a date. No kissing. Keep it simple. Do what you need to do, get it over with, move on...

Ground rules.

Jani took a deep breath, exhaled to clear her lungs, her mind, and to keep her focus where it needed to be—on the job she had to do, not on the man.

Then she got out of her car and headed for the elevator that would take her to the top floor of the seven-story building that housed Gideon’s loft.

She was still feeling eager to see him. Much, much more eager than she wished she felt.

But she was also holding tight to her resolve.

* * *

“My steak was cooked perfectly, I love a baked potato with all the good stuff piled on, your special secret-of-the-house
salad dressing is great and I would eat another roll but I couldn’t get even one more bite down,” Jani said, reviewing the meal that Gideon had prepared for her as they cleaned up together afterward.

“I’m glad you couldn’t eat another bite because I’m afraid I dropped the ball on dessert,” he said. “I stopped at my favorite bakery but they closed early today for some reason and I didn’t have a back-up plan.”

It was for the best, Jani decided. Dessert was more datelike, and after a meal accompanied by pleasant conversation with Gideon about the flea market, it was getting increasingly difficult to remember that this wasn’t a date.

But in an attempt to keep on track, when the dishwasher was loaded, the counters wiped down and Gideon had poured them both a second glass of wine, Jani turned from the huge modern kitchen to look out into the rest of the wide-open space of his loft.

It definitely didn’t speak of hardship, past or present. There were only two units that shared the entire top floor of the building, so nothing was compact in the space. The kitchen flowed into the dining room, which flowed into the living room and an area off that that Gideon was obviously using as a home office. The loft was high-ceilinged, stark and contemporary, furnished in expensive white leather, chrome and glass.

“This is a beautiful place,” Jani commented.

“Thanks. I just bought it about six months ago. There are only two bedrooms, but that’s all I need—a master suite and a guestroom. And each bedroom has its own bath.”

Plus there was a powder room Jani had used to wash her hands before dinner.

She wandered across the space to the wall of windows that looked out from the living room over all of Denver. “And what a view!” she said.

Gideon joined her there. “It is great, isn’t it?” he agreed, taking in the sight of the city lights while Jani’s attention somehow shifted to his reflection in the glass.

It wasn’t the first time tonight that she’d noticed how good he looked in jeans that were less faded than what he’d had on for the flea market. Jeans that fitted him well enough to have made her eyes roam on their own to his rear end at every opportunity.

It wasn’t the first time tonight that she’d noticed how well his navy blue tweed Henley sweater hugged his shoulders and the expanse of his chest, either. Or that there was something very sexy about the look of his sleeves pushed to midforearm.

It wasn’t the first time tonight that she’d noticed that his hair was shiny-clean and combed carelessly or that he’d shaved off the afternoon’s stubble. Or that he smelled divine, too.

It was just the first time she’d noticed his male beauty reflected in the glass as if there were two of him, doubling the pleasure...

“...and I’m ten minutes from my office, from everything in the city,” he was saying, still talking about the loft while she was thinking other things that she shouldn’t have been thinking.

Jani reined in her thoughts and said, “I’m about ten minutes from my office and I bought my place six months ago, too. But I’m in a house not too far off Spear Boulevard.”

“I was in a house before this.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“I did like it. But it needed to be sold—”

“It
needed
to be?” she said, concerned that financial problems might have been the cause.

He apparently realized what she was thinking because he said, “It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. It just had to be done.”

“Divorce stuff?” Jani guessed, wondering if anything about his failed marriage could somehow be traced back to H.J.’s long-ago influence on his family and the course his life had taken as a result.

“Divorce stuff,” Gideon confirmed, moving away from the window as if he were signaling that he wasn’t willing to get into that subject.

Jani turned from the wall of glass, too.

“Sit down,” he encouraged.

She did, going to the big leather sofa, where she sat near one end without hugging the arm too closely.

Gideon joined her there rather than taking either of the less inviting suede director’s chairs facing each other at opposite ends of the couch, sitting partially sideways.

Jani pivoted in his direction, closing even more of the distance between them.

But she tried not to notice this as she said, “If you liked your house, why didn’t you want another one?” Because surely if he could afford a place like this, he could have afforded a house of his own after the divorce.

“I was going through big changes when I had to find a new place to live. I decided to embrace change completely.”

Jani wasn’t sure whether or not she was meant to probe it further. Deciding to err on the side of caution, she didn’t. Instead, she glanced around again and said, “Well, it
is
a nice place.”

“But you bought a house?” he said.

“I did. I thought it would be more kid-friendly.”

“That was your primary concern?” he asked as if that seemed strange to him.

But of course it might seem strange because she didn’t have any kids yet. She weighed whether or not to talk more about her determination to have a family. If this were a date, if he were a potential mate, she wouldn’t because she’d be worried that it might scare him off this early. But this wasn’t a date and her dating guard had no reason to be up, so she opted for honesty.

“A kid-friendly environment was definitely my primary concern,” she admitted. “Down to the last detail—I bought a ranch-style so there aren’t stairs. It’s big but has a cozy, family feel. I made sure the bedrooms are close enough together that I’ll be able to hear cries in the night. The nursery is light and airy and spacious enough for all the gear that goes with a baby. I have a big kitchen so we can cook together as a family the way GiGi always had all of us doing when I was growing up. There are great French doors that open onto a big patio—I can see myself looking out and watching a toddler on a tricycle riding around in circles. I have a yard that will fit playground equipment, but I’m also close to three different parks and not far from the zoo.”

“And you’re away from overly busy streets but near good schools?”

That sounded like the voice of experience...

“Also two of the things I looked for.”

“That’s a lot of kid-friendly, all right,” he agreed. “And now you’re all set?”

“I am. And I can’t wait!”

He nodded stoically. “Be careful what you wish for...”

Jani laughed. “You make it sound so ominous.”

He shrugged. “A kid will steal your heart more than you can ever imagine. It’s actually a little scary. For me? Never again.”

Because of the daughter he’d read the bear book to? The daughter he didn’t still have in his life?

Initially Jani had assumed that he’d lost custody in the divorce and that’s why he no longer saw her. But now she wondered if tragedy had taken his little girl from him. If maybe that tragedy had cost him his marriage, too.

She wanted to know. She needed to know in case it all had something to do with that bar his family had ended up in. Or related in some other convoluted way to the distant past, the Camden misdeeds she was trying to compensate him for. But she was suddenly too concerned with the weight of what might have happened to him to get openly nosy and decided that she should wait for him to seem willing to tell her more.

He proved he wasn’t willing to talk about it yet by saying, “You really do have kids on the brain—I’d think you might have had enough of family after growing up surrounded by so much of it.”

“It’s the opposite actually. Once I got used to being part of such a big family it became really important to me. Then...” She wasn’t going to tell him she only had one ovary or that it was smaller than normal, but she did say, “Well, when I was seventeen I found out I have lower-than-average odds of having kids of my own at all, and it became
more
important.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you’d decided to have a kid on your own because you felt like you’d waited long enough for the right guy. Or maybe the wrong one left you thinking you weren’t going to waste any more time with men.”

So he’d given it some thought...

That made Jani smile. She opted for continuing in the vein of honesty. “Choice B,” she said.

“So a bad experience with the wrong guy made you decide not to waste any more time with men?” he repeated.

“That might be a little harsh and make me sound like a man-hater, and I’m not,” she hedged. “It’s really about time—and how mine is slipping away. I can’t risk wasting any more of it being on a hunt for a husband and then, you know, waiting for a relationship to develop and grow before
maybe
he asks me to marry him, and
maybe
we actually get to the altar.”

“The wrong guy took forever to ask you to marry him and then you still didn’t get to the altar?” Gideon asked.

“It was more complicated than that...”

“And none of my business.”

Again Jani thought that being open about herself might help lead him to be open with her—and ultimately help her achieve her goal. So she said, “No, it’s okay. I don’t have any secrets. I just lost four years believing in someone who disappointed me. He didn’t actually take forever to propose—that happened after we’d been together a year.”

“But getting to the altar?”

“Yeah, that never happened. Instead it was another three years of ups and downs. And with every down... Well, my hope for actually getting to the altar at all got a little less. Then terror sort of put it over the top for me and I was just relieved to get out of the relationship in one piece...”