Mr. Forever Read online

  She had to turn the baby she loved as much as she loved her own son over to a man who hadn’t bothered to learn his own kid’s name. “Yes, and mine is Olivia.” Not that she expected him to remember that either. She closed the door behind her unwanted guest. “Do you have a car somewhere, or did you walk here?”

  “It’s at the end of the driveway.”

  The man was practically frozen. She wouldn’t turn anyone away in this weather. How could she send Liam out in it with a complete stranger? “Babies travel with a lot of accessories. Why don’t you bring the car up to the house?”

  “That’s not going to happen. It’s in the ditch and it’s not moving an inch.”

  Her heart soared. She had another day before she had to let Liam go. “Come to the sitting room. I have a fire going, and I’ll get you some blankets and hot tea.”

  “I’d prefer coffee if you have any,” he said as he followed her through the house.

  She’d happily stuff him with gallons of coffee if it put off the time where she’d have to take him to meet Liam. “I’ll put a pot on. Make yourself comfortable.” She handed him the quilts from the back of the couch before escaping to the kitchen.

  She’d taken Jennifer in when she was seven months pregnant and needed a job and a place to stay. It hadn’t been ideal for either of them, of course. In the five months Jennifer had lived here, Olivia had done the lion’s share of the housekeeping chores she was paying the other woman to do. Motherhood had been completely overwhelming and unpleasant for Jennifer. Olivia had taken over most of those duties, as well. But those had come naturally, out of love.

  Two days ago, Jennifer had dropped the bomb she was leaving and would send Liam’s father, whom she’d never mentioned in the past five months, to pick up the kid. Olivia hadn’t known who the man was and still wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for dear old Maude Richardson’s urgent phone call to tune in to The Brighid Show this morning.

  Olivia returned to the sitting room carrying the silver serving tray with the typical guest fare, minus the hot tea, of course. Dr. Paden was standing in front of the fireplace. The quilts were folded on the couch behind him. He waved one of her brochures at her as she entered. “Your home is a bed and breakfast called — ” he consulted the brochure “ — The Scot’s Mansion?”

  “That’s right.” She set down the tray and filled his cup from a carafe. She was an innkeeper. She knew how to be a gracious hostess, whether or not she took a personal liking to her guests. She just had to think of him as a guest, not the man who was taking Liam away from her. Or the man who had broken up her marriage with horrendous advice. “The Scot’s Mansion has been in my family for three generations. We’re known for miles for our scones.” She held out the tin to him and forced her hostess smile. “Enjoy.”

  “Scones?” His disgust was as palpable as if she’d announced the kitchen was teeming with roaches.

  “You don’t like them?” She set the tin on the side table and arranged the dishes of butter and strawberry preserves.

  “No.”

  She bit her tongue over the urge to tell him how much she detested his books. “I use a family recipe my grandmother brought over from Scotland. I serve plain scones along with two other flavors of the day.”

  “Coffee will suffice.” He picked up his cup. “Thank you, Olivia, for your hospitality. It appears I’m in need of a room tonight for myself and my, uh, son. A suite would be best, if possible. I’ll pay the going rate, naturally.”

  He had no idea what her going rate was for misguided marriage therapists. Not that it mattered. Whether he ultimately paid it or not, he had to sleep here. The storm didn’t leave either of them a choice. And she had plenty of rooms. Her only other scheduled guests for the entire week had cancelled due to the weather. “Of course you need to stay. But Liam already has his own room and he’s currently asleep there.”

  “Now that I’m here, he’ll stay with me.”

  Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “Dr. Paden, you’re chilled and must have had a terrible drive here. Why don’t you relax and worry about yourself this evening. Liam is content and settled in for the night. He generally goes to sleep before dinner and sleeps through to the early morning. I’d be happy to introduce you to him then.”

  Dr. Paden set down his coffee cup with an ominous clank. “I didn’t come here for coffee and scones. I came for my son. Take me to him now.”

  Olivia’s hands shook. She clasped them behind her back to keep them out of sight. She had no legal claim to Liam. But how could she give up the child she loved as her own to this overbearing, pompous ass?

  Chapter 2

  If he hadn’t been so rattled from the whole driving into a ditch and nearly freezing to death before he reached the house, Caleb would have gone to his son first thing. After all, he’d spent nearly six hours traveling with that single goal in mind.

  He followed Olivia back through the foyer, summoning a herculean effort to not run past her in his impatience. She led him to an alcove that he’d failed to notice earlier. Now he saw a set of stairs going up, along with a small, discreet sign that read, “Private residence. No guests beyond this point.”

  Olivia walked up the stairs. He was appalled the baby was hidden this far away from the room she’d originally taken him to. The child could have been wailing his head off and they wouldn’t have heard a peep. He’d been right to insist on seeing him when he did. From this moment on, the child would be well cared for.

  The room at the top of the stairs was cluttered with pictures and folded clothing. Olivia stepped around a Lego tower on the carpet. Caleb nearly stumbled over the scattered remaining Lego pieces trying to avoid the tower. He shuddered to think of her doing the same with the baby in her arms. Clearly, he had arrived just in time.

  Olivia paused at a half-open bedroom door. “This is Liam,” she whispered. “You can see he’s perfectly safe and sleeping peacefully.”

  He clenched his teeth so tightly the vein at his temple throbbed. She was still trying to keep him from his own child. He marched into the room. A white crib took up nearly half the space. Hanging over its top was a plastic rod with a miniature monkey, giraffe, and hippopotamus attached by little strings. There was likely a fancy name for the contraption, but he didn’t know what it was.

  He peered over the edge of the crib. Camouflaged by the monkey sheets, matching padding along the sides of the crib, and clothing with a tiny monkey pattern was the tiniest human being Caleb had ever seen. The baby’s eyes were closed and his mouth was slack open. His head was turned slightly to the side, exposing the tiny pulse on his neck.

  Liam. His son.

  Caleb’s chest constricted until he felt physical pain. This perfect, sleeping child was absolutely innocent and completely at the mercy of the adults in his life.

  Caleb had always believed his mission was to look out for the helpless children in this world, but he’d never literally felt it in his chest and gut before. This helpless baby depended on Caleb to protect him from everything.

  “I won’t let you down,” he whispered.

  He bent over the side of the crib and put his hands on either side of the child. The baby’s entire head would fit in his palm. He tried reaching around him, but everything about him seemed so small and delicate. In contrast, he felt clumsy and oversized. He needed to pick him up without hurting him but didn’t have a clue what was the best way.

  He thought back to movies he’d seen recently, news reports with children in them, and even women with strollers on the sidewalk. Most of them lifted kids under the shoulders. Now that he thought of it, he was pretty sure he remembered his mother had picked him up that way, and she hadn’t broken him — not physically, anyway.

  “Support his head,” Olivia whispered. He hadn’t heard her approach, but her hands were suddenly on top of his, guiding one hand under the baby’s head and the other under his back as she leaned over the crib next to him.

  For a second, Caleb couldn’t mo
ve or breathe. On one level, her touch was innocent and impersonal. Worse, it was intrusive. How dare she tell him how he should handle his child.

  On the other hand, he couldn’t breathe. Somehow, an innocent touch with a stranger was the most intimate he’d ever felt. It shook him to the core. It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t friendship. It was a connection, something he didn’t even believe in, for goodness sake. But he’d felt it just the same.

  He looked at Olivia. Her blue eyes widened and she drew her hands back quickly. Whatever this thing was that didn’t exist, she’d felt it too.

  “It’s important to always support Liam’s head. Otherwise, you could hurt his neck.” Her voice shook slightly and she stepped away from the crib.

  Simple attraction, Caleb rationalized, determined to put it behind him. Mutual, but still inconvenient and potentially complicated. Hopefully, it wouldn’t surface again.

  Liam sighed and shifted his tiny body. Caleb lifted him slowly, making sure the weight of the head and neck were settled on his hand. The baby wiggled again and whimpered as Caleb raised him above the mattress. He wanted to somehow shift the tiny bundle closer to him into a more comfortable position for both of them. But he was afraid to move his hands and hurt the child’s delicate body.

  The baby squirmed some more. His face turned from milky white to a flushed red, and he let out an ear-piercing howl. This wasn’t natural. Caleb glanced at Olivia to see if she shared his panic. “What do I do now?”

  She looked disgusted. He got his wish on that inconvenient attraction. Whatever she’d felt for him before, the moment was definitely over. “You’re the one who insisted on waking him up. You’re on your own.”

  “You can’t leave me with him. What if I drop him or hurt him? What if I’m hurting him right now?”

  Olivia stepped behind him. She shifted his arms until Liam was cradled against his chest. “You’re not hurting him. You disturbed his sleep and he’s not happy about it.”

  She might as well have added, “I told you so.” He wasn’t going to stoop to her childish behavior. He also wasn’t going to notice or feel bereft by the lack of contact as she dropped her arms from around him.

  “Now you can cuddle him and apologize,” she said, as if he’d caused Liam’s unhappiness. “Bring him downstairs when you’re ready. He usually starts looking for a bottle after he wakes up.” She leaned over his arm and kissed the baby’s forehead. “It’s all right, sweetie. You’ll get another chance for beauty sleep in a little while.” She smoothed her finger down Liam’s cheek.

  The baby stopped mid-wail and looked at her with wide, trusting blue eyes. Olivia walked out of the room. Liam shifted his gaze to him.

  Caleb gave his most gentle smile, and he broke the news. “Hey buddy, there’s a rumor going around that I’m your dad.”

  Liam’s face scrunched up again. His mouth opened and he howled his displeasure.

  “I know you’ve had a rough few months, but it’s going to get better now.”

  Liam’s cries intensified. His eyes squeezed tight and he stretched his body, as if he was trying to wiggle away.

  Caleb glanced through the open bedroom door to the living room. Olivia was nowhere in sight. She shouldn’t have left him alone with a screaming baby. That was completely irresponsible of her. She needed to have the child’s best interests at heart. She had no way of knowing he wouldn’t drop the baby or intentionally hurt him.

  He looked at Liam’s angry scrunched face. “You don’t like to be woken up. I get it. How about you stop crying and we can discuss what’ll make you happy?”

  Liam screamed and flailed his arms, striking Caleb in the chest.

  Twenty minutes of the baby crying without stopping for a breath was enough to make Caleb reconsider that he could walk into the house and leave with the baby and everything would be all right. Obviously, it wasn’t that simple. This child had no way of understanding that Caleb was here to fix his situation.

  The twenty minutes also gave him the courage to walk out of the bedroom, make a wide path around the dangerous Legos, and carefully ease his way down the stairs with the screaming bundle in his arms. He couldn’t remember ever being so proud of himself for not tripping.

  Olivia had mentioned a bottle. He looked around to figure out which way to the kitchen to get one. Apparently, Liam’s screaming alerted her, because at that moment she came through a swinging door with a bottle full of milk.

  If Caleb wasn’t so worried about dropping the baby he might have kissed her feet. As it was, he needed to somehow extend his hand to accept the bottle while still supporting the baby’s head without squeezing the child too hard with his other hand.

  “Bring him to the sitting room. We’ll get you situated in there.” Still carrying the bottle, Olivia marched down the hall. She didn’t look back to see if he followed.

  “You know, maybe you should feed him this first time, and I can watch,” he called, trailing behind. He knew in the big picture exactly what a kid needed, but he was beginning to realize there was an ocean of little, practical details that he didn’t have a clue about. He’d held Liam long enough to figure out he was wearing a diaper, which meant it was going to need to be changed regularly. The contents occasionally might even be messy. That was uncharted territory he had no desire to step into.

  “Let me get this straight,” Olivia said once he entered the same room with the fireplace she’d taken him to earlier. She folded a quilt over the armrest of a chair across the room from the fire. “You had to rip Liam out of his crib because you couldn’t wait another second to get him away from me, but now that there’s actual work involved, you want to give him back.” She blew out a breath that made the loose strands of her brown hair flutter around her face.

  Caleb had been so single-minded in his determination to do the right thing for this child that he hadn’t considered her feelings in any of this. Jennifer had clearly taken advantage of her, possibly to the point where Liam recognized Olivia as his primary caregiver. Now, he was imposing on her without so much as a “thank you” for everything she’d done.

  He sat in the seat she’d set up for him. “Thank you for taking care of Liam in my absence. Tally up the hours you’ve spent on him times your hourly rate, and add it to my hotel bill at the end of my stay. I’ll reimburse you for your troubles.”

  Olivia’s cheeks turned a dark red that matched Liam’s coloring. Clearly, he’d insulted her, and he was about to fall victim to a scathing tirade.

  A kid dashed into the room, cutting her off before she spoke a word. “Did Dad call to say he was coming to my birthday? Did he?”

  “He hasn’t called yet.” Olivia took a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to relax. She took the bottle and rubbed the nipple against Liam’s open lips. He paused in his screaming, and then began to suck in earnest, leaving a ringing silence his wake.

  Caleb put his hand on the bottle in the same position that she’d held it as she turned back to the older child.

  “Can we call him now and ask?” the boy asked. Caleb guessed his age to be somewhere between three and twelve, which was a pretty big range, but he didn’t have enough interaction with children to narrow it down.

  Olivia ruffled the boy’s hair with affection. “Austin, I need to fix dinner for our guest.”

  “Why are you letting him hold Liam?” he asked suspiciously, and then continued talking without waiting for a response. “I thought we were going to have the place to ourselves because nobody could get here and bother us with all the snow.”

  Olivia put her hands on the boy’s shoulders and bent down to his level. “Your dad promised to call tomorrow afternoon. Come in the kitchen and you can help me fix the salad.”

  Apparently, Liam wasn’t the only kid Olivia took in whose parents took off on them. But if that was the case, why had she looked ready to disembowel Caleb for suggesting he pay for Liam’s care?

  Austin grinned and bounced on his toes. “Okay, Mom.” He threw his arms around
her in a quick hug and then tickled Liam quickly under the chin. “Cutchie-cutchie-coo.”

  Liam grinned around the bottle stuck in his mouth and made a tiny sound that might have been a giggle. He waved his arms and kicked his legs.

  Austin turned and dashed back out of the room.

  “Sorry about that,” Olivia said. “He’s a little rambunctious.”

  “He’s your son,” Caleb observed. Which meant she was married. He felt ridiculously disappointed that the spark he’d felt earlier could never develop into anything.

  “Yes.”

  “And his dad is away on a trip?”

  “In a manner of speaking, I suppose.”

  “He doesn’t live here?” There was an edge in her tone that made Caleb dig deeper. But then he realized how his question might be interpreted, so he added, “I’m not hitting on you. I’m a marriage therapist, so I have to ask. Occupational hazard.”

  “No, he doesn’t live here. We’re divorced.” Each word was forced out with a sharp, bitter edge.

  The spark he’d felt from earlier sprang back to life. Caleb ignored it; not only was Olivia Wells divorced, she had a kid. Caleb would never act on his attraction to a single mom. The child was already a victim of divorce and the screwed up psyche that went with it. No way would he add to the boy’s misery.

  After Liam finished his bottle, he reached his arms up to Olivia. She took the boy and held him, completely at ease, as she showed Caleb to his room. Then she took the baby with her while she left to prepare dinner, assuring him she could juggle both tasks just fine. Caleb needed to return to the rental car for his few personal belongings, and he couldn’t very well navigate the ditch with the baby in his arms, so he agreed.

  After he’d dried the snow off his pant legs and returned the most pressing business calls, he walked into the dining room and stared at the long, forbidding dark wood table. The three chandeliers above the table were smaller than the single one in the sitting room but were of the same bronze and frosted glass. They glittered with a dim glow that romantic types adored and he detested.