Falling For The Single Dad. Jessica Hart
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Название: Falling For The Single Dad

Автор: Jessica Hart

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781474097680

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ get round to it. It’s just that at the moment with Nick’s commercial stuff and with Harry and the baby…’

      ‘It’s fine. It’ll keep. We won’t do anything with it till the autumn anyway, so relax. And go back to him, if you have to. I must say if I were you and there was a hunk like that waiting for me, I wouldn’t want to hang around having coffee with a chum!’

      ‘But I do,’ she said, meaning it. ‘I’d love to have time with you, talk to you…’ She trailed off, and Georgie’s eyes sharpened.

      ‘Em, are you sure everything’s OK?’

      For a moment she hesitated, wondering whether to say anything, but Georgie probably wouldn’t understand. This was her first pregnancy, she’d never fed a baby—she might be horrified. ‘I’m sure,’ she lied again, and, kissing Georgie’s cheek, she bent to touch Maya’s head and smile at her, then headed home.

      And just in the nick of time.

      She could hear Kizzy as she turned onto the drive, and her let-down reflex was working overtime. She squashed her nipples with the heels of her hands and ran into the house, dumped her bag and went out into the garden, to find Freddie yelling and throwing sand out of the sandpit, Beth sulking over her stickers and Harry pacing helplessly with the flailing baby in his arms.

      The look of relief on his face was comical.

      ‘You’re back,’ he said needlessly, and without a word she took Kizzy and the bottle, went down to the seat under the apple tree and tried to fool her. Not easy, with Freddie climbing up her legs and Beth hanging round her neck from behind and Kizzy busy spitting out the teat.

      ‘Hey, kids, how about some juice and biscuits?’ she suggested, and looked up at Harry pleadingly.

      ‘Good idea,’ he said, picking up on it immediately. ‘Come into the kitchen and we’ll see what we can find. And you’d better wash your hands first. Come on, young man, let’s go and find that biscuit tin,’ he added, prising Freddie off her legs and setting him on his feet, then herding him towards the kitchen.

      Now, then. She tried again with the bottle, but it was futile, so she hitched up her vest top, unclipped her bra—a front-fastener, dug out of the bottom of her underwear drawer—and plugged the baby in.

      Peace. And with any luck she’d get enough food inside her before her children came back out and saw what she was doing. Not that she had any problems with them knowing, it was the rest of the world, and since she didn’t intend to let this become a long-term thing—like, more than today, if possible!—there didn’t seem any point in them finding out.

      All she had to do was convince Kizzy that the bottle was just as good.

      She tried sneaking the teat of the bottle in beside her nipple, but Kizzy was smarter than that. She spat it straight out and went back to the real thing.

      So much for Plan A.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      ‘HOUSTON, we have a problem.’

      It was the evening, and she’d spent the day dodging her children every time she’d fed the baby, while he’d struggled to keep them entertained and out of mischief.

      Which, to give him credit, he’d managed very well, but it was getting silly, and she’d had a lot of time to think about it.

      He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Want to elaborate?’

      ‘This feeding thing. It’s not going to work. Not long term. I shouldn’t have started it, it’s my own fault, but now I have, I have to find the way out.’

      ‘So what do you suggest?’ he asked, his eyes troubled. ‘Any ideas?’

      ‘I’m going to see if I can get hold of a breast pump. I’ve used one before, when I had Freddie, because I had tons of milk and they were desperate in our local special care baby unit.’

      He nodded, and she realised he would have known about it from his time there with Kizzy. His next words confirmed it. ‘They had one in our SCBU,’ he said, smiling crookedly. ‘That’s where Kizzy’s milk came from—they called the thing Daisy. I doubt if you’d get one like that, though.’

      ‘Oh, no, but I’m sure there’s one I can get to use at home, but I don’t know where from. I’m going to talk to the health visitor in the morning. I know her—she’ll sort it if she can. But once your house is decorated, you’ll be moving back, and we’re going to have a problem if she still wants me. We have to wean her off me, Harry—and fast.’

      He was frowning. ‘So what’s the plan? Give her bottles with your milk in until she gets used to the bottle again, then switch back to formula?’

      She nodded. ‘That’s the idea.’

      He pressed his lips together, ran a hand through his hair and nodded agreement. ‘Yeah. Well, it makes sense. I can’t expect you to do it for ever. Or at all.’

      She sensed there was something he wasn’t saying, but she didn’t push it because she didn’t want to be talked out of it. Wouldn’t be talked out of it. No matter how sorry she felt for Kizzy.

      ‘Can I borrow your computer and go online?’ he asked abruptly.

      ‘Sure.’

      She watched him leave the room, and dropped her head back with a sigh. How on earth had she got herself in this mess?

      Five minutes later he stuck his head round the door. ‘Come and see,’ he said, and she got up and followed him to her study.

      ‘Breast pumps,’ he said, pointing at the computer with the air of a magician. ‘Manual, electric, single, double—tons of stuff. Bras to hold them in place so you can work while you do it—whatever. Order what you want—and get the works. It comes next-day delivery and I’ll pay. It’s the least I can do.’

      The stuff turned up the following afternoon, and she disappeared with it to experiment. He tried not to think about it. He was getting fixated, and it was ridiculous.

      ‘Hey, Freddie, come here, little man. Let’s put some more suncream on you and you need that hat on.’

      ‘No!’ he screamed, throwing himself over backwards and flailing. ‘Not hat! Not cream! Go’ way!’

      A window flew open upstairs and Em leant out, clutching a towel to her chest. ‘Is he OK?’

      ‘He’s fine. He doesn’t want sunblock.’

      ‘Bribe him,’ she advised, and shut the window.

      Huh? Bribe him? A nineteen-month-old baby? With what?

      ‘He likes bananas,’ Beth said softly in his ear, and giggled. ‘So do I. And biscuits.’ Specially chocolate ones.’

      ‘Is that right?’ he said, slinging an arm round her skinny little shoulders and hugging her. ‘And I suppose you want one, too?’

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