LITMIR.BIZ

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the kitchen and carried the baby into his study, where he carefully set the car seat on the floor.

      He sank wearily onto the couch, staring down at the baby’s face. Her eyelids were closed, looking delicate and pink. Her lashes were soft feather fans of pale brown, much darker than the wisps of hair on her round little head.

      He’d never been around babies. Never wanted to be, particularly after his wife got pregnant with someone else’s. Dana had then become his ex-wife. That had been nearly six years ago.

      Layla hitched in an audible breath, which made him hold his. She sucked at her bow-shaped lips and her pink eyelids fluttered.

      But she didn’t wake.

      He exhaled slowly, and slid off the couch to sit on the floor next to the car seat.

      “Linc?”

      “In here.” He didn’t raise his voice. Maddie still must have heard, because a moment later she came into his study. She stopped when she saw him sitting on the floor.

      The leather creaked as she slowly perched on the far cushion of the couch. “Are you all right?”

      “They must pay you to ask.” He was certain she hadn’t asked out of friendly concern.

      She didn’t answer immediately, but slid down to sit next to him on the floor, her back against the couch. The car seat was between them. “Considering I’m on vacation, technically, I’m not really getting paid for this at all.” She sounded carefully neutral.

      He gave her a sideways look. “Vacation?”

      “Another thing even social workers are allowed.” She stretched out her legs and fiddled with the plain watch strapped around her narrow wrist. “My boss scheduled it. Told me he didn’t want to see me in the office for the next two weeks.”

      “Big fan of yours?”

      She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

      “If you’re on vacation, what are you doing here?”

      “You didn’t exactly give me a chance to tell you.” She folded back the edge of the pink blanket with her slender fingers. Her fingernails were short, neat and unvarnished. “I work in family services, Linc. Vacation or not, this is what I do.”

      “You could have sent someone else.”

      “You called me. At my home. If I’d known any one of my associates would have done just as well, I’d have been more than happy to send someone else.” Her fingertips grazed the downy blond hair on Layla’s head. “You’re stuck with me now. At least until the hearing next week.” She drew her hands back and went onto her knees, wrapping her fingers around the carrier handle.

      “What are you doing?”

      “Right now, Layla is in my care. Which means where I go, she goes.” She stood, picking up the carrier. “And I’m going home. It’s been a very long day, and my uncle is going to meet me there.”

      “Why not here?”

      “Because we’re not staying here,” she said with exaggerated patience.

      He stood, closing his hand over hers on the handle.

      She froze, her expression tightening. “Linc, don’t even ask me to leave her with you.”

      “I wasn’t going to.”

      Her gaze flicked up to his, then away.

      “You could both stay here.” He realized his hand was still on hers and let go. “You know how big this place is. There’s lots of room.”

      “There’s room at my house, too.”

      She lived in a worn-down Victorian that she shared with her sisters. He’d driven by it more than once. His brother’s bar was nearby.

      “Does it have a nursery?”

      She waved her hand, taking in their surroundings. “The only thing that seems to have changed since the last time I was here is this room, and your grandmother didn’t have a nursery, either.”

      “I’ve changed a few things. And she put in the nursery a few years before she died.”

      Maddie gave him a surprised look, but still shook her head. “A nursery isn’t a necessity.”

      “Maybe not. And there’s nothing in it but furniture, but it’s better than that.” He gestured at the car seat. “Better than that house of yours.”

      “What do you know about my house?”

      “It was on the condemned list when you bought it.”

      “It was not!”

      “Okay. Maybe not.” He waited a beat. “If Jax asked, you’d agree.”

      Her lips compressed. “If Jax were here, presumably he would know who the woman was who left Layla for him and the situation would be entirely different.”

      Linc’s stomach burned, worse than it had when he’d called her for help in the first place. “Please.”

      She rested the car seat on the arm of the couch and her lashes swept down. She exhaled heavily. “Fine. But just because it’s already so late.” But then she sent him a skewering look. “And just for tonight.”

      If he could talk her into one night, he figured his chances were pretty good of talking her into another.

      But all he did was nod. “I’ll show you where the nursery is.”

       Chapter Three

      Maddie jerked awake, staring into the dark for a second before she remembered where she was.

      Under Lincoln Swift’s roof.

      And Layla was crying.

      She pushed the button on her sensible watch and groaned a little when it lit up with the time. It hadn’t even been two hours since her uncle had left.

      Every muscle she possessed wanted her to roll over and curl up against the pillows.

      But she shoved aside the blanket that she’d pulled over herself and climbed off the bed. Aside from removing her boots before lying down, she was still fully dressed.

      The bedroom she was using connected directly to the nursery. Linc’s warning about furniture being the only thing the room possessed had been accurate.

      The mattress inside the spectacularly beautiful wooden crib had no bedding. The drawers of the matching chest contained nothing but drawer liners. The changing table held no diapers.

      She couldn’t help but wonder if it ever had.

      Only the toy box held anything of note—a stuffed bear easily as big as Layla. It was dressed in overalls and cowboy boots. Even all these years after Maddie had dusted the ornate base of the foyer table, she could remember Ernestine talking about her husband, Gus. He’d died when he was still a relatively young man. No matter what sort of success the wildcatter had found before his death, though, he’d always worn overalls and cowboy boots.

      One thing Maddie was used to doing, though, was improvising. She’d folded a regular bedsheet tightly around the crib mattress and Linc had produced a woven throw to use as a blanket. The pink one Layla had been left with had fallen victim to what Maddie kindly termed a “poopsplosion” while her uncle had been examining Layla. Linc had promptly turned green and produced a trash bag, seeming horrified that Maddie had been prepared to just toss the blanket in the washing machine. Instead, he’d promised to replace the blanket with a half-dozen if need be.

      As for diapers and such, they had only what remained of the meager supply that had been left with Layla—also strongly depleted after the poopsplosion. Which meant Maddie was going to have to resupply. Soon. Because

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