A Navy SEAL's Surprise Baby (6 page)

“Look what I made on vacation!” Her daughter proudly displayed a leaning tower made of driftwood, pebbles, shells and gobs of glue. “Mom Cindy said it’s the most
beautifulist
thing she’s ever seen.”

“She’s right.” The admission was difficult when all Pandora wanted was to scratch
Mom Cindy
’s eyes out. Jealousy may have consumed her, but she’d come too far to let it show. She’d learned a good mother puts her child’s needs ahead of her own, and given how precious little time they had this afternoon, that’s exactly what she’d do. “Tell me about the beach. Was it fun?”

While Julia shared tales of jumping into the waves and building a
humongous
castle with her fun new beach toys, Pandora drank it all in, wondering at the coincidence—the cruel twist of fate—of them both experiencing their first day at the shore with different people.

Hanging on to her daughter’s every word, it occurred to Pandora that far from being angry with the foster parents assigned to their family’s case, she should be grateful. Julia’s
Mom Cindy
was a shining example of how the system was supposed to work.

“What’s in there?” Julia pointed to the floral gift bag that had pink curly ribbon cascading from the top.

“Gosh, I don’t know...” Pandora couldn’t resist tugging her girl into another hug. “I was so interested in hearing about your adventure, I forgot what’s in the bag.”

“No, you didn’t.” Julia’s giggle acted as a balm to Pandora’s weary soul. “Tell me, tell me!”

“Okay...” Pandora handed her daughter her gift. “But I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“I will! I will!” The little girl added jumps to her giggles while tossing the ribbon from the bag. First, she took out a small Junie B. Jones doll, then three of the first books in the series outlining the turbulent, yet hilarious, tales of the girl’s kindergarten experience. Largely due to Pandora’s mistakes, Julia was starting first grade, though she should have been entering second grade. “She’s pretty! I love her!”

“These books tell all about what happens to her at school. I thought it might be fun to sit and read them together. What do you think?”

Julia nodded. “Mom Cindy reads to me. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad, sweetie. Always remember, books are your friends.” Seated on a too-stiff formal sofa, Pandora made the best of the awkward situation by patting the cushion alongside her. “Come over here and let’s find out what happens...”

Turned out the social worker was a Junie B. fan and hadn’t heard the stories since her own child had been small. The three of them laughed together until it was time for Julia to meet back up with her foster parents. Though it was harder than anything she’d ever done, Pandora thanked them for providing such a stable foundation for her daughter.

Then the visit was over.

During the long drive to Calder’s, she indulged in a nice long cry. Better to get her tears out privately. Quinn deserved her best, and spending the remainder of her day weepy certainly wouldn’t solve the many problems of her own making. For those, the only solution was time. At least now she’d pass that time in a comfortable environment where she knew she’d make a positive difference.

The closer she came to the house, the more her pulse raced with the realization that she was excited to see her sweet charge.

What about his criminally handsome father?

Pandora chose to ignore that thought. She also wanted to forget how she’d fought the strangest urge to give Calder a proper hug goodbye that morning.

Madness. But she supposed, given their forced proximity and the fact that they’d essentially become a ready-made family, her reaction was understandable. As long as she understood the reasons behind her feelings, she could ignore them and keep her primary goal in mind—regaining custody of Julia. Nothing else mattered.

Pandora pulled into the driveway and pressed the button on the automatic garage-door opener, her mouth dry, pulse racing as if returning to this happy place was her own special gift—one that Calder had made possible.

Once inside, anticipation filled her to see him and his son.

Only, they weren’t there.

Despite the fact that Calder’s car was gone, Pandora looked everywhere. Bedrooms. Living room. Backyard.

When her fruitless search led to her sitting alone on the couch, she kicked off her sandals, drew her feet up beside her then resigned herself to wait.

*

B
Y
THE
TIME
Calder got home, he had heartburn from too many of Cooper’s hot wings, the Gators had lost by ten and Quinn was squalling. All in all, it’d been a less than stellar day. Seeing Pandora’s car already in the garage should’ve made him feel better, but it didn’t.

Calder felt stupid for ever even asking her to the beach. From here on out, he vowed to play it cool. Hell, she worked for him, meaning he wasn’t
playing
at all.

He always had trouble getting Quinn from his car seat and this time proved no different. By the time Calder held him safely in his arms, he was surprised the kid could breathe through his screams.

In the living room, Calder found Pandora crashed on the sofa.

She woke in a heartbeat, rushing to take the inconsolable baby. “What’s wrong?” she crooned in the kind of ethereal-soft tone his son seemed to love. “Poor baby. Your diaper feels dry.” To Calder, she asked above the wailing, “Is he hungry?”

“Could be.” He dumped the diaper bag on the nearest chair. “Hell, I don’t know. He’s been crying the whole way home. It hasn’t been
that
long since he had his last bottle, but you know how time can get away from you when a game’s on.”

She cast him an incredulous look.

Her attention back to his son, she said, “Let’s get some nice formula in your tummy, then you’ll feel better.”

Somehow, Pandora managed to not only hold his son, but fix a bottle and hum all at the same time. Once she held the bottle to Quinn’s lips, greedy suckling commenced, making Calder feel like the world’s most inept father. What was wrong with him? How could he have let his infant son get this hungry?

In under a few minutes, Quinn had almost drained the bottle and his eyes had drifted closed.

Pandora relocated to the living room sofa, cradling Quinn while still humming her song.

In an angry whisper she said, “I left premade bottles for you in the fridge. Didn’t you even look?”

“Sure, and I took all of them and he drank them. Maybe I gave them to him too soon, and then he was crazy hungry later? You tell me.” Plenty miffed, Calder crossed his arms. “You’re the expert.”

She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m good—
great—
at a lot of things, but infant care isn’t one of them. I never signed on for this.”

“Really?” She laughed, but the sound struck him as cold. “News flash—the moment you chose to sleep with Quinn’s mom without protection...? You pretty much signed a lifelong contract.”

“Sorry I’m not perfect like you.”

Calder had expected a snappy comeback—what he got was a whole lot of silence, then tears.

He followed her when she went to the nursery to change Quinn’s diaper, brush his tiny teeth then tuck him into his crib. Only when she’d turned out the nursery lights and quietly shut the door did she respond. “For the record, I’m about as far from perfect as anyone can get. Good night.”

He wanted to say more—a helluva lot more, but she’d ducked into her own room and shut that door, too.

*

“I
F
YOU
WANT
my opinion, let it go.”

With Quinn happily batting at the stuffed cow hanging from his carrier’s handle, Pandora paced her friend’s office. “I know, but Calder hit a nerve with that one. Worse—here I was lecturing him for being a bad parent when I’m pretty sure I’m featured in the Lousy Parent Hall of Shame.”

Natalie left her desk to wrap Pandora in a hug. “Trust me, there are worse parents out there than you. If I hadn’t seen with my own eyes how hard you’ve worked to turn your life around, I wouldn’t have believed it. You’re a textbook example of how to make lemons into lemonade.”

“But am I?” Sitting in the guest chair, Pandora slid her fingers into her hair. “Saturday, during my time with Julia, she kept bringing up her foster mom, Cindy, and I was so jealous I could’ve screamed.”

“I presume you didn’t?”

“No, but...” She wrung her hands. “What if I had? What’s inside me that makes me want to snap?”

Her friend took the seat alongside her. “Could it be you’re human?”

Outside, the day was gloomy. Earlier, there’d been storms, but for now a light drizzle had settled in. The air held just enough of a nip to remind her of the rapidly approaching fall.

The weather suited Pandora’s mood.

After Saturday’s visit with Julia, she’d been on top of the world. Returning to Calder’s empty house had been mood dampening. But then when he had returned with his cranky son, her spirits had gone from bad to worse. She’d imagined them maybe sharing a nice dinner, then watching TV before putting the baby to bed. What really happened had left her on edge and unable to sleep for hours. Why had she let him get to her? Deep down, maybe she feared his belief that she was the image of perfect motherhood might lead to potential disaster when—
if—
he ever learned her truth.

“What’re you thinking?” Natalie asked.

“Wish I knew.” Leaning forward, Pandora rested her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands. “Calder’s my boss—nothing more. I owe him zilch but my promise to give excellent care to his son.”

“You’re not falling for him, are you?”

“No.” Pandora laughed. “That’s ridiculous. I barely know him. Besides, things between us are strictly professional.”
Except for the way my pulse races every time his gaze meets mine.

“So what’s the problem?”

She glared at her friend. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Lips pressed tight, Natalie seemed to think an awfully long time before she said, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but are you afraid that if Calder finds out you lost Julia, he may fire you?”

“Honestly?” Pandora sighed. “That’s exactly what’s wrong. This is the best job I’ve ever had. Assuming I still have it by the time I get Julia back, I suppose I’ll tell Calder everything, but until then...?” She gazed outside. “Guess I’d like him to get to know the current me as opposed to the wretched person I used to be.”

*

P
ANDORA
STAYED
AT
Natalie’s office longer than she’d planned. By the time she returned to Calder’s house, she noted his motorcycle parked in the garage. Despite still being upset with him for the way they’d left things the previous night, she hated that he’d ridden home from work in the rain.

Entering the kitchen through the back door, she held Quinn in the crook of one arm and her purse and diaper bag with her other.

Calder stood at the kitchen counter sipping from a mug filled with steaming, fragrant coffee. He wore no shirt and a pair of Go Navy sweats. His hair looked damp. His chiseled profile was so strikingly handsome, her mouth went dry and her pulse skyrocketed.

“Why didn’t you call me?” was the first stupid thing she thought to say. “I could’ve picked you up.”

“No biggie. I didn’t mind getting wet. Besides, it’s not as if you were here, waiting by the phone.” He winked.

She set her keys and bags on the kitchen table.

Awkward silence between them took on a physical hum.

“About last night,” he finally said after a gulp of his coffee. “I—”

“I owe you an apology. That crack about a condom—it was completely inappropriate and unprofessional. Won’t happen again.” She glanced down at her tiny charge. His grin not only warmed her through and through but made her wonder what she was doing. She knew the only reason she’d been upset with Calder had more to do with her own insecurities rather than anything he’d done. How many times had she been too drunk to pick up Julia from day care? Or too broke to buy milk—let alone cereal? “I just hated hearing Quinn cry and it set me on edge.”

“Understandable. His crying had me almost crazy.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for that snap about you being perfect. But you have to know, compared to me, you pretty much are.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “Truce?”

“Yeah.” When she pressed her palm to his, her fingers to his, her every nerve ending pulsed. The attraction she felt for him was unlike anything she’d felt before. Unnerving in the way his lightest touch made her crave more. But Julia was her only priority. Getting close to her boss wasn’t even an option.

“Cool.” He opened the fridge. “What’s your plan for dinner?”

She looked at him, then Quinn, then laughed. “What do you want?”

“Anything that doesn’t come from a bag or box. If I pay extra, could I bribe you into making more of your meat loaf—a double batch so there’s enough for leftovers and sandwiches?”

“No bribe necessary. Assuming we have all the ingredients, it’d be my pleasure.” Her only request was that Calder either leave the room or put a shirt on!

Chapter Six

“Get the lead out, Calder!”

“Yessir, Master Chief!” All afternoon—two weeks after his fight with Pandora—Calder’s SEAL team had been practicing counterterrorism drills by entering a suspected terrorist compound and securing the perimeter in under a minute. After three hours of running a simulated rat-hole maze, they’d finally gotten times down to a minute thirteen seconds, but that wasn’t good enough. In a real-life situation, those seconds could mean the difference between successfully completing a mission and being shipped home in a body bag.

Over and over Calder ran the drill with the rest of his buddies—his team. The men had become his family. He’d do anything for them and knew they’d return the favor.

The harder he worked, the more he focused on the reasons he did what he did. He had always thought he’d become a SEAL for the cool factor. There was no denying the title carried with it incalculable bragging rights. But the longer he wore his Trident, the more he realized it meant so much more.

Now not only did he want to be of service to his country but he also wanted to protect his son. Before having Quinn, the seedier portions of the world had been his warrior playground. Now he recognized the world’s danger zones hid terrorists intent on not only harming his son, but every man, woman and child in America and beyond.

In short, like it or not, Quinn had given Calder a maturity he hadn’t before possessed. He used the newfound drive to keep his kid smiling to dig deep, finally busting through the mental wall that had held him back all day.

“Fifty-seven seconds! Good work!” His CO patted his back.

While Heath splashed bottled water onto Calder’s overheated face, Calder dropped to his knees. Damn glad the ordeal was over, but also proud. If the team could accomplish the task here at home, then overseas, with adrenaline pumping, there would be no question about them performing like a well-oiled machine.

While the last few on their team completed time tests, Heath and Calder sat against the base of a mock concrete-block Iraqi apartment building.

After gulping more water, Heath asked, “How’s it going with the nanny?”

“Good and bad.”

“Yeah?” Calder’s friend raised his eyebrows. “How so?”

“On the one hand, the house has never been cleaner, my laundry’s always done and as you’ve probably noticed, I’m headed out early to eat home-cooked meals every night.”

“Sounds good so far.”

“This is where things get dicey. I pay her for the basics, but the longer she’s with me, the more I look forward to more. To just seeing her. And then there are those awkward late-night meetings when she’s all mussed and forgets her glasses...” Calder shook his head and sighed. “I have to keep reminding myself she’s my employee. Worse, when it comes down to it, I know nothing about her. Sure, her work references checked out, but I’m still wondering where she disappears to sometimes on Saturdays.”

“Have you asked?” Heath tugged an energy bar from his right sleeve pocket, tore the wrapper and took a bite.

“Hell, no. It’s none of my business.”

“Then why are you whining to me about it?”

Calder snatched a pebble from the ground beside him and pitched it at his “friend.”

*

F
RIDAY
MORNING
, P
ANDORA
fed Quinn and his father. Once Calder headed off to work, she tidied the kitchen and the rest of the house—a task that took a whopping fifteen minutes, considering she didn’t have much to work with.

She hadn’t forgotten that Calder had told her he’d paint her bedroom, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject without sounding greedy. Most days, in presenting her with the opportunity to save a generous amount of money while at the same time living in a safe, quiet, fresh-smelling environment seemed like blessing enough. Sure, walls the shade of lemon sorbet would be lovely, but they were hardly a necessity when she’d once relocated from a highway underpass to a crack house to a jail cell.

With chores finished, she said to Quinn, “Looks like a gorgeous day. Want to go swing?”

“Rahee...”
Quinn smiled and drooled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Five minutes later, she’d worked his chubby arms into a light jacket, added a pint-size baseball cap then settled him in his stroller.

She left through the garage, netting a pleasant surprise to find the neighbors just east of the house were holding a garage sale. There were even a couple more down from there.

Some of the few happy memories she had of her early childhood were of visiting Saturday-morning sales with her mom and dad. They’d viewed the outings as fun, but also a necessary way to cheaply furnish their home. The items hadn’t seemed shabby to Pandora, but well-worn and loved—the furniture equivalent of the dog pound.

During the first months of her marriage, she’d gone to lots of sales, intent on transforming their rented house into a home, but then her ex had lost his job and taken out his every frustration on her. Usually sporting a black eye, she’d been too humiliated to leave the house.

Doubling back inside Calder’s home, she took her wallet from her purse and tucked it in the back pocket of Quinn’s stroller.

The first sale didn’t hold much of interest. Beyond a half-dozen paperbacks she selected for herself, many tables were laden with baby clothes, but strictly for girls. Pandora did snag a stack of picture books for a dollar and an electronic crib mirror for Quinn to play with. There were lots of fun shapes and when he pressed them, they made silly noises. He
boinged
all
the way to the next sale.

“Good morning,” said an older man, one of
Calder’s neighbors.

“Good morning.” Pandora greeted him with a warm smile. “You sure picked a gorgeous day for a sale.”

“Wasn’t me but the wife. She’s chairwoman of the Neighborhood Beautification Committee. All proceeds go toward sprucing up the flower bed at the development’s entrance.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” At first, Pandora didn’t see much beyond stemware and yard tools, but then she spotted a painting that would be perfect over Calder’s fireplace. In the foreground, the artist had created an angry sea, yet beyond the surf, sun radiated through tumultuous clouds and the water shone with an iridescent calm. The image spoke to her. How her recent years may have been a struggle, but in the future, by the time the storm blew over and she and Julia were immersed in golden sun, everything was going to be okay. Better.

Along with the painting, she found a lovely silk flower arrangement featuring daffodils in a Blue Willow china–patterned bowl. She envisioned it on the mantel, grouped with framed photos of Calder and Quinn she’d snapped with Calder’s digital camera the last time they had played blocks on the living room carpet. All told, she’d spent ten dollars—twelve after also finding a quirky strawberry-shaped cookie jar.

She set the painting atop the stroller’s sun visor, then stashed the rest of her items in the bottom netting.

To Quinn she said, “Guess we’d better head home to unload before hitting the park, or you’ll end up sharing your seat, huh?”

He kicked and gurgled before once again hitting the
boing
button on his new toy.

“You bought the painting.” A smiling older woman approached. “Martin and I have had it over our buffet for years, but my new decorator says it has to go.”

“I should thank him or her. I love it.”

“I’m glad. It’s easier to part with knowing it’ll be enjoyed. I’m Lila, by the way. Don’t you and this cutie live three doors down?”

“We do.” Pandora exchanged introductions.

“That man of yours is a sight to behold.” Fanning herself, Lila added, “If only I were thirty years younger...”

Martin, the man Pandora assumed to be Lila’s husband, called from where he sat on a lawn chair in the garage, “I heard that!”

Lila waved off his complaint. “How long have you and your hunk been together?”

“Oh—we’re not a couple.” Pandora’s cheeks flamed. “I’m Quinn’s nanny.”

“
Oh...
Forgive me. I assumed you were a family. Have to admit to being old-fashioned about young couples
shacking up
instead of marrying, but that’s neither here nor there. Since he’s your employer, I suppose it’d be hard not to share the same roof, huh?”

“Yes, it would.” Though Pandora laughed, she couldn’t help but fear Julia’s family-court judge having similar suspicions, which might ultimately lead to disapproval. Her stomach knotted.

Carrying on with small talk as if she hadn’t a care in the world proved difficult, but Pandora muddled through a chat about the lovely weather and maybe joining the beautification committee.

Lila’s attention eventually turned to another customer, at which point Pandora decided in lieu of the park, she and Quinn were off to the hardware store for a picture hanger sturdy enough to hold the painting.

At five-thirty, Pandora took a fragrant roast from the oven and even lit a few candles alongside the photos she’d placed on the mantel. She felt good about the changes, but feared Calder either wouldn’t care for her taste, or would find her presumptuous for taking the liberty of decorating his house.

At the time she’d impulsively made the purchases, longings for a true home had consumed her. Quinn deserved the real deal every bit as much as Julia. For years, Pandora imagined living in homey perfection. Was it wrong she now wanted her physical world to match her rich imagination?

Stomach roiling with silly nerves, she pureed Quinn’s portions of the evening’s meal. When Calder still wasn’t home by six, she gave Quinn his bath, played with him for a bit, read a couple of his new picture books then put him to bed.

By the time Calder did finally come home, she’d curled onto the sofa’s end, immersed in one of her new paperbacks.

“Sorry I’m late.” He placed his motorcycle helmet on the entry closet’s top shelf.

Had he been at a bar?

“Training ran
waaay
long.” He yawned. The fact that he smelled faintly of the outdoors and briny sea told her he hadn’t been partying. “What smells good?” He stepped farther into the room, noticing the changes she’d made. “Dang, that picture and the candles and stuff look fancy—like something my mom would do.”

Even his indirect praise made her soul sing.

“I’m liking the painting—and whoa! Who are these handsome guys?” He picked up the simple wood frame that housed the snapshot she’d taken of him and his son. “Quinn really does look like me.”

She put down her book, hovering behind him. “Is that the first time you’ve seen the two of you together?”

His eyes shone, but he soon blinked them dry. “Yeah. Caught me by surprise. I mean, I know in my head he’s biologically mine, but somehow I hadn’t made the connection that we share physical features.”

“The bigger he gets, the more similarities you’ll see. Little personality quirks will pop out, too. Some good, some bad. They all make you look at yourself in a whole new way.”

He gave her a long stare. “You sound like you speak from experience, but you don’t have kids, right?”

What did she say? The last thing she wanted was to outright lie. On the flip side, she wasn’t anywhere near ready for full disclosure.

She settled for forcing a smile. “You must be starving. Why don’t you grab a shower and I’ll fix you a plate?”

*

S
TANDING
BENEATH
THE
HOT
water’s stinging spray, it occurred to Calder that Pandora had skillfully evaded his question. Why? On the surface, everything about her read perfection. Was he being paranoid or could she truly be hiding something?

Out of the shower, he made quick work of toweling off, then stepping into boxers, sweats and a T-shirt.

He ambled into the kitchen and found the table set for one.

Pandora stood with her back to him at the sink, her arms up to her elbows in suds. If he hadn’t been intent on getting an answer to why she’d evaded his question, his mind could have all too easily traveled to erotic places.

Once he sat and took his first bite, she asked, “Is everything warm enough?”

“It all tastes great. Thanks.”

Was it just him or did she also sense an elephant in the room?

He set his fork to the plate. “Have a seat.”

“I would, but I need to finish up here, then check on Quinn in his playpen.”

Calder looked down. Where did he even start? “You misunderstood. We need to talk.”

She turned off the faucet. “H-have I done something wrong?”

She’d given him the perfect segue to tell her his suspicions. That he hoped he was reading more into this than there was, but a couple times now, she’d been evasive. On her few Saturdays off, he’d gotten the impression she didn’t want him knowing where she was going or even who she was seeing. Then tonight, when he’d asked her about having kids, her whole demeanor had changed. “If you’re not happy with my work...” She seemed to take inordinate care with drying a saucepan.

“Did I say that?”
I can’t even say why, but my gut tells me you’re hiding something.
Solely for himself, because he woke thinking of her smile, he probed, “Do you have a child?”

“You’ve seen my references. If I’ve in any way caused you to doubt my ability to care for your son, then—”

“Damn it, Pandora.” When he slapped his palm to the table she not only jumped, but tears filled her eyes. He was instantly sorry, yet at the same time he’d been trained to always follow his gut. What was going on with her that he couldn’t see? Whatever it was hadn’t affected her ability to give his son expert care, so why couldn’t he leave it alone? On a deeper level, what was it about her that had gotten under his skin, making her—at least in his mind—so much more than someone who worked in his home? “What’s with you? Some things don’t add up. Your first day on the job, when you didn’t have a cell or a way to even purchase groceries without calling me for help. The fact that you lived in Norfolk, yet have never been to the beach. Your two mystery Saturdays. All I’m asking is for you to be straight with me. If you don’t have a kid, is there something else going on with you that I’m missing?”