DELANEY thanked God for the long countertop in the bathroom and laid Seth out. No doubt, he had to be wet by now.
“Da da da,” her son babbled.
Yeah, that’s your daddy. Tyler had seen it immediately. It was obvious and probably better than having to prove Seth’s parentage to him. But it hadn’t escaped Del that Tyler hadn’t yet committed to staying here and protecting Seth. And if she knew that man, he had something up his sleeve. Whatever ran around in Tyler’s half-crazy head, she couldn’t let him derail her. He had all kinds of incentive to keep Seth safe that no one else would. She was sticking to her guns. If she didn’t make it out of this alive . . . at least she knew Seth would be safe. And loved. Tyler, for all his seemingly carefree ways, had tremendous capacity for caring.
After a quick tug of Seth’s clothes, the wet diaper came off. A fresh one replaced it, then Del righted his shorts. She looked longingly at the shower. How she’d love to bathe with Seth, hold his little body close to her and revel in the skin-to-skin contact. She’d only stopped breast-feeding a few months ago, and she missed having him that close. Showers were like gold to her now.
But this wasn’t the time.
Quickly, she set Seth on his feet, used the toilet, then washed her hands. “Ready?”
In response, Seth blew air out of his lax lips, making noises like a car engine. She smiled softly, sniffing back fresh tears. He was little boy, through and through. She’d miss him desperately while she tried to nail Carlson to a wall and did everything in her power to make it back to her son alive.
Suddenly, a knock interrupted her thoughts. “You okay in there?”
“Be right out, Tyler.”
Gathering her things and taping up Seth’s wet diaper, she drew in a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen—with the five other women from the patio. She stopped short.
They didn’t make any bones about staring at her with rampant curiosity.
Then the gorgeous platinum blonde stared at Seth and gasped. “Oh my God, Tyler. He looks just like you. Is he . . .”
“Yep. Mine.” Tyler’s expression was unreadable, but Del sensed a smile somewhere in there. Her mind racing, she tossed away Seth’s diaper. What the hell was this about?
“You’re just now telling us about him?” the pregnant redhead challenged.
The athletic, auburn-haired beauty tapped her foot. “Of course. He gets in the middle of all our shit, but notice that he doesn’t fess up about his own.”
The curvy Latina frowned. “True, but I don’t think that’s the issue this time. See how he looks at the boy, with curiosity and wonder. How long have you known?”
“Ten minutes.”
The women collectively gasped.
Del held Seth tighter. “Look, I didn’t know exactly how to find Tyler. And . . . what’s going on here?”
“Ladies, this an old . . . friend, Delaney Catalano. And my son, Seth.”
“Nice to meet you. He’s precious,” the other redhead, this one with the dancing dark eyes, said. “Tyler made him eggs. Can I feed him?”
Snapping around, Delaney spied a plate on the counter. Sure enough, steaming eggs and toast sat beside the stove. Seth saw, too—and lunged.
The platinum knockout caught him before he squirmed headfirst out of Del’s grasp. She scooped him right up against her chest and took him over to the eggs, calling over her shoulder, “I’m Alyssa, Tyler’s boss. I’ve got a little girl just about the same age as your boy. I probably won’t have more children, so I’d love the opportunity to spoil your son. Come on, Tara. Grab a spoon.” She tickled Seth’s cheek. “You hungry?”
“Wait!” Del reached for Seth. “I’ll do that. He’s—”
“No need,” Tara chimed back, then giggled. “Gosh, Tyler. He looks so much like you. Except I actually like him.”
“Funny.” Tyler rolled his eyes. “You’ve met Alyssa and Tara over there.” He pointed at the two women fussing over Seth—who looked to be eating it up, along with the eggs. “This is Kata, Kimber, and Morgan.”
After nodding a greeting, Kata, the Latina brunette, took out her phone and started texting. Kimber, the auburn beauty next to her, got the same idea and whipped out her cell, too.
“Hold up there, girls. C’mon . . . Don’t do this.”
They both looked up with big Cheshire cat grins. Kimber tapped out a few more keys, then hit send. “That should have Deke here in . . .” She glanced at her watch. “About five minutes. Less, if there’s no traffic.”
“Oh, good. He’ll tell Jack for me.” Morgan, the pregnant redhead, smiled. “I need to recharge my phone.”