Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club #10) - Elise Faber Page 0,43

her husband over food that wasn’t from a box or stone-cold because it had been interrupted by a little monster who was absolutely adorable but had terrible timing.

She ran her finger down Lacy’s nose, giggling softly when she wrinkled it and squirmed slightly. “They’ll be okay,” she murmured. “I think your Mommy is a lot less stubborn than your Auntie when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Lacy squawked. Kate giggled again. And then she went into the kitchen, ready to start her girl’s night.

Jaime had offered to bring her dinner when he stopped by her office that afternoon on the way to a house call for one of his elderly clients—and yes, she was grinning when she remembered that she had a man in her life who stopped by her office, one who’d made her coworkers’ jaws drop open because he was so handsome—but she’d seen the circles under his eyes, knew he’d been slammed the last two days.

So, she’d kissed him and sent him on his way, told him they could have a sexy conversation when he was tucked snugly in bed.

“Promise you’ll tell me what you’re wearing?” he’d asked, sliding his hands through her hair and making a shiver skate down her spine.

“Only if you promise to do the same.”

A smiling kiss, and then he’d gone.

And now she had a sexy phone call to look forward to. “Maybe,” she murmured, walking Lacy around the kitchen as she scrounged some ingredients for dinner, “I’ll even get a sexy FaceTime.”

Lacy cooed.

Laughing, she held the tiny bundle of cute and threw together a sandwich and some fruit, not feeling capable enough at the whole cradling a fragile infant and cooking at the same time.

As those things went, she managed to eat exactly one bite of her sandwich before Lacy stopped being adorable and sweet and fun and turned into an angry, crying beast.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

She got hungry. And when Lacy got hungry, she got Mad.

Yup. Mad with a capital M.

Kate bustled over to the fridge, grabbed the bottle of milk Ann had left for her. But what Kate didn’t have was a fancy bottle warmer like her mom and sister had on their counters.

She had to rely on her old babysitter tricks.

And they were a hell of a lot slower than the fancy warming contraption.

God, who knew it took water an eternity to boil? Or what felt like one anyway, when there was an unhappy baby in her arms. An unhappy baby who wasn’t shy about letting her unhappiness be known to the room.

The house.

The universe.

Snorting as she kept moving, trying the pacifier and rocking and singing and talking and bouncing and anything else she could think of in order to distract Lacy—none of which made the least bit of difference—she wasn’t exactly pleased to hear the doorbell.

Pulling the pan of boiling water off the heat, she plunked the bottle into it and hurried to the door, turning the handle just as the bell rang again.

She tugged it open, saw Jaime on the other side.

“Sorry,” he said over Lacy’s crying, lifting a hand and gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t think you heard over her.”

Kate nodded, turned and kissed his palm. “It’s okay.” She stepped back, inclined her head to the kitchen. “I’ve got to grab her bottle.”

“Here. Let me take her.”

They made the switch, and she bustled into the other room, snagging the bottle and quickly testing the temperature, before screwing on the nipple and walking back over to Lacy and Jaime.

Lacy, who’d stopped crying.

Lacy, who was looking up at Jaime adoringly.

For God’s sake, the man was good.

“Do you want me to—?” She began.

“I can,” he murmured, rubbing slow circles on Lacy’s back. “Unless you want to.”

Lacy had stopped crying. Kate wasn’t messing with that. She passed over the bottle. “It’s all yours, baby whisperer.” He glanced up and smiled, and for the first time since she’d seen him on the front porch, she realized that there were shadows in his eyes. She touched his jaw. “Jaime,” she murmured. “Are you okay?”

All trace of amusement faded, and a flash of pain slid through his pale brown eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Hey—”

Lacy began to cry in earnest, and he smiled, repeated, “I’m fine.”

But she’d seen that glimpse of hurt.

And this was a moment she could give as well as take. Give care. Take some of his pain, his burden, whatever he was carrying that day that was weighing so heavily on him.

Because the man talked a good