Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby Page 3

  “Almost ready,” she said, standing to put on her own sage-green parka before gathering Bradley and reaching for the strap of his diaper bag.

  Trevor was suddenly there, grabbing it for her. “I’ve got it.”

  She swallowed again, this time because the intensity of his dark gaze had her cheeks going hot and her stomach swooping like a roller coaster on the downslide.

  “Thank you,” she managed, following quietly behind him when he moved to the office door, opened it and stepped into the reception area.

  His secretary lifted her head at her boss’s approach, but her glance skated quickly past Trevor to eye Haylie and Bradley. Haylie didn’t think the woman had heard anything that had been said behind the closed office doors, but it was obvious she was curious about who exactly Haylie was, what she’d needed to talk to Trevor about and why she’d brought a four-month-old along to do it. But like all good secretaries, she was discreet, keeping her mouth shut and waiting until her employer told her what he needed.

  “Diana, I’m going to be out of the office for a while,” Trevor informed her, not bothering to introduce Haylie, even though it was clear that wherever he was going, she was tagging along. “Possibly the rest of the day. Reschedule any meetings for me, please, and field anything else that comes up.”

  “Yes, sir,” Diana responded, jotting a note on her desk blotter before taking to her keyboard to bring up what Haylie assumed was Trevor’s daily schedule.

  From a hidden closet behind the receptionist’s desk, Trevor pulled out his coat and shrugged it on. Stuffing his hands into the pockets, he pulled out a cell phone, checked the display and put it back.

  “My cell will be on if you need to reach me,” he added, “but—”

  “—Try not to need you,” Diana finished for him.

  He flashed a quick half smile. “Right.”

  Lifting his gaze to Haylie’s, he met her eyes for a second, then said, “Ready?”

  She nodded, passing the reception desk to once again trail after the man who was—for the moment, at least—in charge. But instead of taking the lead, this time he held the door and ushered her and Bradley ahead of him. An act of chivalry that for some reason had her tightening her grip on her nephew and reminding herself that she didn’t fall into bed with every handsome man she met the way her sister always had. If anything, while she was in Trevor Jarrod’s presence, she needed to be even more diligent about disengaging her female hormones and keeping her wits about her.

  But if Haylie were honest with herself, she would have to admit that, not for the first time since meeting Bradley’s father, she couldn’t quite blame her sister any longer for having a one-night stand with this man. If Haylie were a bit more extroverted, a bit less timid when it came to flirting with the opposite sex and had a bit more time on her hands to actually meet people of the opposite sex, she suspected she’d be tempted to fall into bed with him, too.

  Three

  The trip to Dr. Lazlo’s office took closer to forty-five minutes than thirty, mostly due to the fact that Trevor had never been around a child and had no idea how much paraphernalia they required just to get from point A to point B.

  First, he’d led Haylie through one of the Manor’s side exits to his fire-engine-red Hummer parked in a reserved spot in the employee parking lot. Only to have her arch a brow and refuse to get in on the passenger side until they’d collected Bradley’s car seat from her vehicle.

  So they’d tromped back to the Manor—because she wouldn’t get in with the baby, even to let him drive them around to her car—and through the main hallways of the hotel until they’d reached one of the more public entrances closer to the guest parking area.

  Trevor would have preferred to simply walk around the giant building, finding the light fall of snow and chill in the air bracing. But in the short time they’d been outdoors, Haylie’s and Bradley’s cheeks had already turned pink with cold, and Trevor didn’t want to risk either of them getting sick or frostbitten, so he’d opted for taking the partially heated shortcut past God knew how many inquiring eyes.

  As if having a strange woman pop up in his office with a baby she claimed to be his wasn’t bad enough, the idea that someone might find out about this latest wrench in the works and splash it across the front page of every rag tabloid in Colorado and beyond was enough to give him an ulcer and high blood pressure. All he could do was hope that the people they passed were mere tourists and not some form of despicable paparazzi disguised as guests in an effort to dig up dirt on the Jarrods yet again.

  All he needed was for the three of them to wend their way through the buzzing center of the main hotel and out to the parking lot without being waylaid by anyone who might be curious about Haylie’s identity.

  At least it didn’t look as though he and Haylie were together. She was walking off to the side two paces behind him, and they weren’t doing anything telling like holding hands. For all onlookers knew, he was simply showing a VIP guest to her lodge personally.

  Although, he had to admit that the urge to reach out and clasp her hand was there.

  Not because he was attracted to her. He gave a mental snort. Nothing as ridiculous as that.

  No, it was just that she wasn’t exactly wearing the most sensible winter boots. He doubted they had much tread on them at all, and the ground was slippery.

  For that matter, the parts of the resort’s flooring that weren’t covered in rugs or carpeting could be slippery if they got wet, too. It wasn’t worth the risk of a lawsuit to have anyone fall and hurt themselves on Jarrod Ridge property, and he certainly didn’t want Haylie to lose her footing and chance dropping Bradley. Whether the baby turned out to be his or not, he would never want to see a child hurt.

  They were halfway across the lobby, exit in sight, and he thought they might just make it.

  And…no such luck. Trevor gave a low curse beneath his breath as he saw his brother Guy bearing down on them.

  Guy was their other brother Blake’s fraternal twin, as well as Jarrod Ridge’s main restaurateur-slash-food guru. Or as the Jarrod boys liked to tease, their chief cook and bottle washer. The resort boasted four restaurants and six bars, all of which Guy helped to oversee.

  Food might be Guy’s specialty, but because Trevor was in charge of resort-wide marketing, most publicity related to the restaurants fell under his umbrella. And though their largest public affair—the Food and Wine Gala—was behind them for another year, that didn’t mean they weren’t constantly working on other events, tossing around other ideas.

  At the moment, he and Guy were trying to organize specialty menus and advertising for a sort of “world tour” of the Manor’s eateries. Chagall’s would cover a taste of France, Emilio’s would cover a taste of Italy, The Golden Palace would cover a taste of China, and so on.

  Guy could have picked a better time to bother him about it, though.

  Stopping in his tracks—in the middle of the damn lobby, no less—Trevor braced himself for Guy’s approach and prayed Haylie would have the sense to keep her mouth shut.

  “Hey,” his brother greeted him.

  Three years older than Trevor and only an inch or so shorter, he was dressed in black slacks and a plain white button-down shirt. Casual, and yet not quite as casual as Trevor’s current post-ski-slope attire.

  His brown hair, which he normally wore a bit long and unkempt, was cut short and neatly styled. Avery’s doing, no doubt. As were the new clothes and the twinkle that never seemed to leave his brother’s eyes these days. Trevor liked Guy’s new fiancée, but the fact that she so obviously loved his brother and was having such a positive influence on him in every way only made Trevor respect her all the more.

  “Hey,” he murmured back. And just as he’d expected, Guy unrolled a sheaf of oversize papers he’d been carrying under his arm.

  “I’ve been looking over the poster mock-ups, and there are a few changes I’d like to make. Especially to the proposed menus.” One corner of his mouth
lifted in a grin and he winked. “You know how I am when it comes to food. Do you have a minute to discuss it?”

  “Actually, now isn’t a good time,” Trevor replied honestly. “Can I catch you later?”

  Since Trevor was all about marketing and almost never unavailable when he was at the Ridge and in full business mode, his brother’s raised brows came as no surprise. Then Guy happened to glance over his shoulder, to where Haylie was standing just behind him, still holding a powder-blue, near mummified Bradley. There was no denying that she was with Trevor, patiently waiting for him to finish his conversation so they could carry on.

  “Oh, yeah,” Guy muttered. “Sure.”

  From the expression on Guy’s face, Trevor knew he was curious, that he was dying to ask about the pretty woman and her baby. Thankfully, he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. At least for the moment. Of course, the family grapevine ran at the speed of light, so Trevor had no illusions that word of his mysterious companion wouldn’t get around. Dammit.

  And then Guy went and made matters even worse. Stretching an arm past Trevor’s impeding bulk, he offered Haylie his hand.

  “Guy Jarrod,” he said by way of introduction. “Trevor’s older brother. Older, smarter and more handsome, of course,” he added with a wink. This time, it was meant to be charismatic, not self-deprecating.

  Trevor rolled his eyes, as much at Guy’s display of chivalry as at the fact that things seemed to be getting dicier for him by the second.

  Haylie accepted Guy’s hand and gave it a polite shake. “Haylie Smith,” she offered. Nothing more, nothing less. Thank goodness.

  While she was perfectly courteous, Trevor noticed she didn’t seem the least impressed by his brother’s attempt at charm. For some reason, that pleased him. Not that it mattered one way or the other—Guy was very happily and very firmly engaged, and Trevor wasn’t interested in any woman who came with even a hint of strings attached.

  And Haylie came with enough strings to knit an afghan.

  “Look,” Trevor said to his brother, doing his best to tamp down his growing impatience. “We’re in kind of a hurry. I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

  With that, he tilted his head, silently gesturing for Haylie to move ahead of him toward the nearest exit.

  “Right. Fine. Later,” Guy mumbled as they stepped away.

  Trevor felt his brother’s gaze on his back the entire time, and knew his mind must be racing. Dammit, just what he needed—more attention drawn to Haylie’s presence and his peculiar behavior.

  Against his better judgment, as soon as they stepped outside into the brisk December chill, Trevor gave in to the voice in his head that kept telling him to reach out and touch her.

  But he didn’t take her hand. Too intimate and not his place. Instead, he took her elbow, just to steady her and avoid any accidents while they made their way to her car.

  She didn’t seem startled by the action, even shooting him a small smile over Bradley’s fuzzy, hooded head.

  “Your brother seems nice,” she said, and he knew she was just trying to make small talk.

  “Yeah” was his monosyllabic response.

  Sure, Guy was nice. Nice and curious, no doubt.

  Haylie’s car, as it turned out, was another cause for concern. Though it was several years old and a model he was pretty sure had been taken off the market, it looked to be in good enough shape. Except for the tires.

  How could anyone live in Colorado and not have snow tires on their vehicle by the time the weather turned icy? Or if they were snow tires, the tread was so worn that they might as well have been inner tubes.

  None of his business, Trevor told himself while Haylie dug into her purse for her keys. Unless, of course, it turned out that Bradley was his son. In which case, it was very much his business, and he would see to it that all four of the woman’s tires were replaced immediately. Or better yet, he would replace her car entirely…buy her something much safer and better suited to Aspen and Denver in the winter months. A Hummer like his. Or maybe a damn tank.

  Juggling her purse and keys and the baby, Haylie struggled to get the driver’s side door open, and Trevor stepped forward to help.

  “Here, let me,” he murmured, taking the keys from her hand.

  Once he had the car unlocked, she opened the rear door, then turned to him and said, “Could you hold him for a minute?”

  Without waiting for a response, she thrust Bradley against his chest and his arms came up automatically to grab the overstuffed bundle shoved in his direction. Catching the baby beneath the arms, Trevor held him out away from him like a bag of angry, venomous snakes.

  Haylie was facing the opposite direction, fiddling with the child’s safety seat and the belts that held it in place, so she didn’t see what he was sure was an expression of sheer terror on his face.

  He didn’t know anything about babies. Not how to hold them or feed them or change a diaper. What if Bradley started crying? And didn’t babies leak? Tears and drool and spit-up, and even worse things that, thank God, a diaper would likely catch.

  But Bradley wasn’t leaking. If anything, he looked positively delighted by his new handler. His cheeks were pudgy and pink, his eyes bright with amusement. He was kicking his little legs as though dancing to music only he could hear, and if Trevor wasn’t mistaken, he thought the child might even be smiling.

  Did babies this age smile, or did he just have gas?

  Bradley gave an extra-exuberant kick and giggled. Intentionally. Definitely not gastrointestinal related.

  With a silent chuckle of his own, Trevor’s trepidation began to fade and he bent his arms, bringing Bradley back against his chest.

  He was kind of a cute kid. Didn’t mean he was a Jarrod, but he still had that whole irresistible baby thing going on that Trevor had heard so much about, especially where women and their biological clocks were concerned.

  A minute or two later, when Haylie climbed out of the car with the safety seat, Trevor was making faces at Bradley and bouncing up and down the way he’d seen her do back in his office.

  “I can take him now,” she said.

  Trevor shook his head. “That’s okay, I’ve got him.”

  After all, this wasn’t as tough as he’d thought, and if the baby turned out not to be his, it might be the only chance he got to do the new-dad thing for quite some time. And if Bradley did turn out to be his son…well, he could use all the practice he could get.

  Sliding his glance to Haylie, he nodded at the car seat. “Can you get that, or do you want me to carry it?”

  “I can get it, but…” She frowned a bit and sounded slightly worried. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather trade?”

  “Nope, we’re fine,” he said, giving Bradley another little jiggle that had him giggling. “Make sure your car is locked and that you have everything you need before we take off.”

  Half an hour after that, Trevor pulled the Hummer into a spot in front of the doctor’s office and cut the engine. Haylie was already out of the car and working to collect Bradley when he got around to her side to help.

  Unlike while Trevor had been holding him, the little boy’s nose was now wrinkled, his mouth pursed and his eyes squinted in displeasure. He was wiggling and whimpering, and the pink in his cheeks definitely didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Trevor asked, trying not to let his concern slip into his tone.

  “He’s just fussy,” Haylie replied, lifting the child from the car seat and shouldering him at the same time she hefted the bulging diaper bag with its yellow giraffe and purple hippopotamus.

  Trevor took the bag for her and closed the door before they started up the sidewalk in front of the tall redbrick building.

  “Can you get a bottle out of there?” she asked, pointing to one of the bag’s side pockets. “He’s probably hungry, and after that he’ll need a new diaper and then a nap. I hope this doesn’t take too long, or we’re going to have one ve
ry loud, unhappy baby on our hands. Unless he sleeps through the whole thing. That would be nice.”

  A loud, unhappy baby didn’t sound like something Trevor cared to experience. Unfortunately, DNA tests tended to involve needles and poking, which he didn’t think would do much to improve Bradley’s current disposition.

  Entering the office, he left Haylie to find a seat and give Bradley his bottle while he let the receptionist know in a whispered voice who he was and why they were here.

  It didn’t take long for the nurse to call them back and lead them to a private exam room, where the baby continued to empty his bottle, his lashes fluttering as his eyes grew heavier and heavier. Moments later, the doctor arrived, greeting Trevor and introducing himself to Haylie. After a brief examination of Bradley, who had finished his bottle and was now sound asleep in Haylie’s arms, the doctor pushed his stool back and regarded both adults.

  “It’s my understanding that you’d like a paternity test to determine that the child is…”

  Dr. Lazlo let the sentence trail off, and Haylie quickly supplied, “His,” with a tilt of her head in Trevor’s direction.

  “Bradley is my sister’s son,” she continued to explain. “Heather passed away two months ago in an auto accident, without informing Mr. Jarrod that he was a father. Mr. Jarrod wants to be sure I’m telling him the truth about Bradley’s parentage and didn’t come to Jarrod Ridge to pan for gold with a baby and a well-constructed story.”

  Trevor shot her an annoyed glance, leaning back against the high countertop to cross his arms over his chest. “That’s probably more than the good doctor needs to know,” he pointed out.

  The doctor gave a friendly chuckle. “Not to worry. I’ve conducted thousands of these tests, and I assure you, I’m very discreet. I’ll handle your samples and the results personally, and send them to the lab under fictitious names.”

  Trevor inclined his head in approval, but he still wasn’t happy. Bad enough they were here at all—he really didn’t need the entire situation spelled out for him again, or for relative strangers.