Chapter Five

Cam

A s Jake spun and stumbled, his hair a bed-head mess and his brain clearly still half-asleep, I nodded at Toby, who’d curled again on the rug. “Good.”

Jake blinked down at Toby near his feet as if he didn’t recognize him. Beside the chair, he bent over me and palmed the baby’s head, peering at her intently.

Firelight flickered on his face so close to mine, his long eyelashes illuminated. The white noise still droned from his phone on the bed, or I could have heard the whisper of his breath. Was that the tickle on my cheek?

This is Jake Gregson. Stop it.

The sooner he could get the hell out and disappear back to his own life and leave me to mine, the better. But snow still fell, the wind still whipped, and we were stuck together. So, there was no reason I couldn’t keep holding the baby since she’d settled. It wasn’t her fault her father was an asshole.

Though right now, wearing my reindeer PJs and wiping sleep from his eyes, he didn’t seem like an asshole. He seemed almost as vulnerable as the baby.

I murmured, “She’s fine. You were dead to the world, and I didn’t want to leave her fussing.”

Jake knelt, still gazing at his daughter as if she was the most precious thing in the universe—which I supposed she was. He rested a hand on the arm of the chair, his ribs brushing my knee where he leaned close.

“Do you want to…?” I lifted my arms, the baby hardly weighing a thing.

“No, no. Don’t disturb her,” he whispered. His brown eyes focused on me. “Unless you want me to take her? I’m sorry. You should have woken me.”

I lowered her, the baby still asleep and warm, her eyes flickering and tiny pink lips opening once in a while. “I was already awake.”

“What time is it?” Jake rubbed his face and stood.

“Probably five-thirty or so by now.”

The white noise stopped, and in the sudden silence, my heart was thudding too loudly.

Jake dropped down at my feet, gazing at her with wonder. “Whoa. She slept through the night. Or close enough.”

“Guess you both needed it.”

“I’m so proud of you, Cora.” He beamed at her.

“Cora,” I repeated. “Suits her.”

Jake’s smile dimmed but didn’t fade completely. “It was my mom’s name. Felt right.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I kept my trap shut. Why was I even talking to him? I needed to hand over Cora and go back to ignoring them as much as possible. But on cue, she hiccupped and lifted her tiny, wrinkled hands before quieting.

How was I supposed to ignore how damn cute she was?

“I can’t believe I didn’t wake up.” Jake rubbed his face again, his stubble scratching. “If you hadn’t been here…”

“You would have woken eventually.”

Staring at the ceiling, I’d waited for Jake to soothe the baby when she’d started whimpering and complaining. The seconds had felt like hours. It would only have been a matter of time before she’d started full-lunged crying, and Jake was so deeply asleep that I’d acted automatically.

Not that I gave a shit about Jake.

There was just no point in standing there with my thumbs up my ass waiting for the baby to wake him. It had seemed impossible that he didn’t even stir when I’d leaned over to pick her up from the drawer, but he’d clearly needed the sleep after driving for days.

It turned out human babies weren’t so different from newborn goats. I’d warmed up a little formula since I figured it would calm her. She’d stopped crying almost immediately when I’d held her and had suckled happily on the bottle in my arms as we’d rocked.

I’d burped her, bracing for spit-up, which I’d only seen in movies. But she’d only let out air before settling again in my arms. I wasn’t eager to change a diaper, so I’d figured she’d be fine until she wasn’t.

Cora was so incredibly small. I’d been afraid I’d break her, but she’d babbled contentedly. She was doing it again now, and I couldn’t help but smile. I glanced at Jake—to find his eyes on me instead of his daughter.

He jumped up, grabbing the bottle from where I’d left it beside the chair, soon washing it in the sink by the light of the fire. Toby was snoozing again—he slept at the drop of a hat—and my chair creaked as I rocked slowly. Toby would need to go out soon, but he could wait for the moment.

Cora was gurgling and groaning, and I asked Jake, “Is that normal?”

He chuckled from the sink, where he was mechanically drying the bottle with the Newfoundland tea towel Mrs. Pinter had brought me back last year. “Yep. Babies make so much noise. I had no idea.” He scoffed. “That’s the tip of the stuff-I-didn’t-know-about-babies iceberg.”

“You seem to know a lot,” I said before I could remind myself yet again that I wasn’t supposed to be talking to Jake.

“Fake it ’til you make it. It’s just me, so I’ve got to figure it all out.”

I didn’t want to ask. It was none of my business, and, again, I wasn’t supposed to be talking to Jake. I’d taken him in because he and Cora would be dead if I hadn’t, and—

I shivered, holding Cora a little closer. If she hadn’t cried, I never would have gone over to Coyote Trail to investigate, and they’d still be there trapped in the car with no heat. They’d genuinely be dead or close to it by now, and the thought had acid swirling in my gut. I didn’t have to like Jake to be glad he and Cora were safe.

I traced the delicate shell of her ear, grateful for her lung power. And Christ almighty, I had to know. I asked, “What happened to Cora’s mother?”

The firelight cast shadows over Jake’s stony face. “Nothing,” he replied flatly, still clutching the tea towel. “She’s not dead or anything. She didn’t want Cora. Or me either, it turns out.”

“Then why did she have a baby?”

Jake ran the tap and washed the clean bottle again, scrubbing the lid. “It was her choice. I told her I’d support whatever she wanted to do. I guess Catholic guilt set in, and she decided to carry Cora. She arranged for adoption—or should I say her boyfriend did.”

I frowned. Cora squirmed, and I gave her my pinky finger to suckle. She did, her soft lips wet on my fingertip. “You weren’t her boyfriend?”

Jake laughed hollowly. “I was, actually. For seven years. Unbeknownst to me, she and her boss started an affair a few years ago. He promised to leave his wife—every cliché in the book. But then he actually did, and Anna left me. I came home from the gym one Saturday morning, and she was gone. Must’ve really busted her ass to clear out almost all her stuff while I was doing leg day.”

I said nothing, waiting. Trying not to imagine how painful that must have been for him.

Screwing and unscrewing the bottle lid, Jake went on. “She left an apologetic note, but she wrote it quickly. I could tell from the way she hadn’t made her usual neat little hooks on the ys and js. Then, a few weeks later she shows up at our— the —condo red-eyed and pregnant. Turns out the boss man doesn’t want more kids. And Anna’s never wanted them either.”

“You’re sure Cora’s…” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Yep. Did a paternity test before she was born. Anna insisted on it. Anyway, I told Anna it was her choice, which obviously it was. I’d thought about having kids one day, but it wasn’t, like, a lifelong dream or something. It was a maybe, somewhere on the horizon. I was fine with Anna not wanting to be a mother. I figured it would all work itself out one way or another.” He laughed sharply. “I guess I was right about that.”

In my arms, Cora burbled and groaned and opened her eyes. Jake apparently recognized her waking sounds, since he was suddenly there to lift her up and murmur a sweet good morning to her. In the ridiculous reindeer onesie, he bounced her gently, pacing by the hearth.

Toby whined, woofing softly, which I knew meant it was bathroom time. I had more questions—especially why Jake had kept Cora instead of going through with the adoption—but the blast of frigid wind when I opened the door to let out Toby broke the spell.

I ordered him to stay close, and he did, racing back to the door in record time. As much as he loved snow, Toby clearly recognized this storm wasn’t to be underestimated.

I had to dress and check on Bonnie in the barn, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a snow squall this bad. It was a total whiteout, so I’d have to wait at least until the sun was up. I flipped on the lights while Jake took Cora into the bathroom.

In the light of the fire, with Cora warm and sweet in my arms, talking to Jake had felt right in a way I couldn’t explain. Now, I could refocus. As soon as the storm passed, I’d take Jake and Cora to Lonely Creek, and I could get back to my routine. This would be nothing but a blip on the horizon that I’d forget in no time.

The storm had no intention of passing anytime soon.

With the high winds bringing whiteout conditions, my trip to the barn to check on Bonnie was short. On my way back, I couldn’t see anything but snow, and I had to stop for a minute and wait for the wind to shift. It blasted my face, and I closed my watering eyes against the sting.

It was frighteningly easy to get turned around in a blizzard like this without any landmarks. I knew the cabin was ahead of me. Normally, I’d be able to see it clear as day. On my way to the barn, I’d been able to make out the dark wood angles of the barn roof.

Now, when I looked behind, the barn had vanished like it had never been there at all. Fortunately, the wind shifted direction just enough for me to spot the shadow of the cabin. I hurried onward, the familiar, comforting shape of it getting clearer. As much as I wanted a real house, I’d miss my cabin when the time came to move.

There’d be no work done on the house until the storm passed, and then it would be Christmas and Boxing Day. Maybe it would be finished by New Year’s if I was lucky.

I grabbed firewood from the box that sat against the cabin wall, knocking off at least a foot of snow from the lid. Inside, I left the wood on the mat while I took off my boots and coat before stacking the chopped logs in the black iron rack by the stove. One jagged piece of wood caught on the wool of my sweater, and I tugged impatiently.

Returning to the mat, I yanked off my work gloves and placed them in their bin in the closet. With a thud, two of the logs I’d stacked tumbled to the hearth. Toby jumped up, barking and eyeing the firewood suspiciously.

“Thank you for protecting us from the inanimate objects,” I said, ruffling his head before bending to pick up the logs—and getting a sliver jammed into my palm. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered, wincing.

“You okay?” Jake asked. He was still wearing the reindeer pajamas and had no right looking so good in clothing that silly.

Heat flushing my cheeks, I pointedly didn’t look at him now in the rocker. “Fine.”

Under the bathroom’s bright bulbs above the mirror, I inspected my hand. I’d done a good job of it, and of course the splinter was in my dominant right hand. Grasping the tweezers with my left fingers, I poked uselessly, muttering under my breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jake asked tentatively from the other room.

“ Fine ,” I repeated. Not that being stubborn was getting me very far. My fingers felt clumsy as I tried to grasp the annoyingly tiny end of the substantial sliver. I dropped the tweezers into the sink.

In the mirror, Jake appeared behind me in the doorway. “Do you want me to…?”

Sighing, I handed over the tweezers and stuck out my palm. Jake took my hand, his fingers warm. Concentrating, he bent his head, prodding at the wound gently. His exhalations tickled my palm, and in the mirror, I could see thick-lashed eyes focused seriously. There was no trace of the cocky star pitcher he’d been in high school.

I almost snapped at him to just yank it out already. Instead, I grumbled, “It’s not a big deal.”

Not looking up, Jake murmured, “It’s getting red. Could become infected. Just hold still.”

His warm grasp on my hand, and the whisper of his breath on my skin, and the scent of his shampoo—of my shampoo—in his thick, wavy hair were too much. We were standing way too close. I could have bent and rubbed my cheek over his head…

Brow furrowing, Jake straightened. “Am I hurting you?”

My heart thundered, face flaming as I tore my gaze from his. How were his eyelashes so long? And those freckles on the tops of his cheeks were ridiculous. And he was still cradling my hand in his so gently, as if I were the baby.

Why didn’t I hate it?

Why couldn’t I still hate him? After all these years, I’d let him get to me in less than twenty-four hours.

Pathetic.

“No,” I managed, the word scraped from my dry throat.

He still frowned at me. “Sorry. But it has to come out. Hold still.” He bent his head again.

I couldn’t move a muscle, so he didn’t need to worry about that. I was frozen in place like one of my yaks with a hoof stuck between rocks. My eyes cut to the mirror, watching Jake.

He bit his lip as he pushed at the wood embedded in my flesh, trying to get another millimeter free to grasp with the tweezers. I watched where his tooth dug into the meat of his bottom lip, and I wondered what it would feel like to lick across that lip…

“Got it,” Jake whispered, sending goosebumps up my arm. “Easy does it…”

Slowly, slowly, he freed the sliver, which was narrow but long. I exhaled as Jake lifted his head, his face creasing into a smile. The faint discoloration on his lip where he’d bitten flushed back to red. He was still holding my hand, and all I could do was stare at him, unmoving.

Jake’s smile faded, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. His gaze dipped to my mouth and back to my eyes, and his own eyes flared dark—which made no sense, because there was no way in hell Jake Gregson was thinking about kissing me. He was straight.

Besides, I didn’t want to kiss him! He wasn’t allowed to crash back into my life and be so damn likable .

So damn kissable .

Then why couldn’t I stop thinking about his mouth?

Toby’s confused whine from the doorway jolted me and Jake, and he dropped my hand, fumbling with the tweezers, which bounced on the counter with a metallic clatter.

“There you go! You should disinfect. Do you have a first aid kit? I can…” He was backing up, though.

“I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“Great. It’s tummy time.”

I blinked at him, my brain trying to figure out what the hell he meant. Was that some kind of insult? I didn’t have rock-hard abs or anything but—

“For Cora,” he added. “It’s a thing for babies. Tummy time? It helps their development, and—” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m just going to do that.” He vanished into the main room.

I welcomed the sting as I disinfected the tiny wound. This storm had to pass soon, and my life could go back to normal. Me, Toby, Bonnie, and my yaks. I’d have my new house to move into any day now when the weather cleared.

I’d worked for years to afford it, and so what if it would be a little big just for me and Toby? I didn’t need anyone else. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be Jake.