“It’s not mine, if that’s what you mean.” He glared at her. He’d always been careful. He had no children and didn’t plan on any. “I think I’d know if I’d made a baby. Besides, you just told me I don’t have a life. How could it be mine?”
Sadie sighed. “First, not an ‘it’. It’s a girl.”
“Fine. She’s not mine.”
“She is now,” Sadie reminded him. Glancing through the paperwork the social worker had left behind, she said, “Bill and Maggie Baker were her parents. Ring a bell?”
He frowned and then frowned deeper when the baby kicked impossibly small legs, screwed up her face and let out a howl a werewolf would have been proud of. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Being called it, probably,” Sadie muttered, and snatched the baby from him. Positioning her on one hip, Sadie bounced and swayed in place until the child stopped crying.
Ethan took a step back just for good measure. The damn social worker had done her job. She’d handed off the baby, a car seat and a diaper bag, then left so quickly he hadn’t had time to argue about anything. But he was ready to now. He couldn’t take care of a damn baby. The idea was ludicrous. Who would have made him a guardian? Ethan had never been around a baby. He didn’t even own a dog.
Baker. Bill Baker. Why did that sound familiar?
Ethan glanced at Sadie and, in spite of the situation, felt a hot rush of heat jolt through his system and settle in his groin. He’d worked with this woman for five years and he’d been fighting his instincts about her for every second of that time. It hadn’t gotten any easier.
Hell, there she was, holding an infant and he still burned for her. She smiled at the baby, then kissed her forehead, and Ethan’s belly jumped. He wanted her badly, and now that she’d resigned, he could have finally made a move on her. But if he did that and then was able to coax her into not quitting her job, after all, there’d be nothing but complications. So no move. He gritted his teeth, hissed in a breath and wished to hell for a cold shower.
Deliberately pushing thoughts of hot, steamy, incredible sex out of his mind, he went back to “Baker. Why do I know that name?” Then it hit him. Ethan stared at the baby, then Sadie. “Hell. I did know him. In college. We were roommates, for God’s sake.” As more of the past rushed into his mind, Ethan cursed under his breath and slapped one hand down on his desk. “We made a deal. A stupid deal.”
“Involving children, I’m guessing.”
“Funny.” He glared at her, noticed the child watching him through wide, watery eyes, and looked away quickly. What was that ribbon of panic? Nothing scared him. But one look at that child and he was ready to run for the hills. That realization was humiliating.
“Yes,” he said tightly, as memories crowded his mind. “It did involve children, obviously. Bill didn’t have family. He and Maggie were engaged and she had been a foster child herself, so no family there, either. He asked me to be legal guardian to his kids if anything ever happened to him.”
“And you did it?” The surprise in Sadie’s voice jabbed at him.
The fact that he now regretted what he’d done so long ago didn’t come into it. Instead, he was insulted that Sadie was incredulous that he would offer to help a friend. Did she really think so little of him? And because he was regretting it, Ethan had to ask himself if she wasn’t right. Irritating.
“He was my friend.” Offended at her tone, and the insinuation, he snapped, “I was twenty. Of course I agreed.” Looking back now, faced with the consequences of that promise, Ethan couldn’t believe he’d agreed. But in his defense, he added, “I never thought anything would come of it. At that age, you pretty much think you’re immortal, anyway. Hell, he’s the same age I am. Who would expect him to die?”
“Certainly not him, I think,” Sadie said, skimming the paperwork again. “They were on a road trip to Colorado. The car went off the road, hit a tree. The authorities believe Bill fell asleep driving. Bill and Maggie were killed instantly.” She turned to look at the baby. “It’s a miracle she didn’t die, too.”