Secrets Of An Old Flame. Jill Limber

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      Nikki shook her head. Male bonding. How like Joe to introduce the baby to his passion. He’d played football in high school and college and loved to watch the game. Nikki remembered a photo hanging on the wall of his apartment showing a much younger Joe flying through the air as he tackled another player.

      She stepped into the room. “I need to feed him.”

      Both dark heads swung in her direction. Joe smiled and reached out to her. “How are you feeling?”

      She took a step back to stay out of his range and before she could answer Michael let out a howl. Instantly her milk let down and formed two wet spots on her sweatshirt.

      Joe moved Michael into the crook of his arm and looked worriedly at Nikki and then down at his son. “Hey, buddy. What’s the problem?”

      Nikki reached up under her sweatshirt and unhooked the cup of her nursing bra as she crossed to the couch. She lifted the baby out of his arms. “No problem. He’s hungry.”

      “You said he’d let me know. The boy has a good set of lungs.” He beamed at her, his face so full of pride it made her want to look away. Her life would be easier if Joe was an indifferent father.

      She pushed the thought back and turned away, carrying the baby to the living room. She settled down on the far end of the bigger sofa, snuggling the baby up under her oversized sweatshirt, guiding him to her nipple. He latched on and sucked hungrily, the suckling noises loud in the quiet room.

      The comforting weight of his little body and the tugging on her breast relaxed her. It always surprised her how all her worries calmed down when she shared precious time with Michael.

      Joe followed her into the room. “Is it all right to feed him after you’ve taken pills for a migraine?”

      Nikki bristled at his question. Michael was always her first priority. “Do you think I wouldn’t check that out with my doctor?” She took a less effective medication for just that reason.

      Joe spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, I’m new at this. I was just curious.”

      An awkward silence ensued as he watched the whole process intently. “He decided awfully suddenly that he was hungry.”

      Nikki glanced over at Joe, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. She didn’t want him there during the feeding. This was her special time with her baby. She didn’t want to share.

      “He’s smart. You’ve never fed him. He didn’t remember he was hungry until he heard my voice. It’s been hours since he ate last.” She stiffened up when Joe sat at the other end of the couch.

      Joe slid a little closer. “How are you feeling?”

      Like a bowl of overcooked pasta, she thought. “Fine,” she said with a bored shrug, wishing he would go back to his game.

      Joe didn’t take the hint. “How often do you feed him?”

      She eyed him closing the distance between them. “Whenever he’s hungry. Sometimes it’s every three hours. Usually around every four hours.”

      “At night, too?” He came off the couch and squatted down on his haunches in front of her. She drew her feet up onto the couch and tucked them under.

      She could smell his aftershave. By the late afternoon it mingled with his male scent into an appealing smell that was all Joe. “No. I can stretch him to six sometimes at night.”

      He reached out and stroked Michael’s foot. “So you’re still getting up at night.”

      She nodded noncommittally. The truth was she didn’t sleep all that well and feedings during the night didn’t bother her. She might as well be doing something useful she enjoyed if she had to be awake anyway. It made the long nights go by more quickly.

      He stood and sat beside her.

      She pushed back against the arm of the couch. “Why don’t you go back and watch the game?”

      He gave her a long look. “I’d rather watch you.” He scooted closer.

      Her stomach did flip-flops. She needed distance. Since she was curled into the corner of the couch she had nowhere to go.

      “What are you doing?” she snapped at him, trapped by his big body.

      He grasped the bottom of her sweatshirt and lifted it. She batted at his big hand. “Stop that!”

      He captured her hand with his free one and continued to pull her sweatshirt up. “I want to see.”

      She tried to pull her hand away without disturbing the baby. “Stop it.”

      She didn’t want him watching. It was too…sensual. She didn’t need those feelings awakened. They led to dangerous memories.

      He gripped her hand more firmly and his expression hardened. “I’ve already missed at least three months. Don’t deny me this.”

      Guilt overcame her and she stopped struggling. He let go of her and she let her hand fall back into her lap.

      Next time she had to feed the baby she’d go upstairs.

      He lifted her shirt and tucked it gently behind Michael so that it would stay, then he stared at the baby.

      She looked away and tried to concentrate on the faint sound of the football game, unwilling to watch the play of emotions across his handsome face.

      She shouldn’t be embarrassed over something so natural, she chided herself. He wasn’t looking at her, he was watching Michael. She was the one struggling with feelings she desperately wished would go away.

      “What does it feel like?” he asked in a low voice.

      She closed her eyes against his soft, appealing voice, resenting the question. How could she tell him about the incredible sensation of nursing a child in terms that wouldn’t sound sexual?

      “Different.” The lame answer hung in the air between them.

      She glanced at him and saw his gaze fastened on the spot where Michael’s milky lips tugged at her swollen nipple.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?” His quiet voice held a note of sadness as his gaze shifted to her face.

      Now she wished she had. She wished she’d called him as soon as she’d realized she was pregnant, before Michael had become real to her. She suspected it might have made sharing him easier.

      If she’d told him then they wouldn’t be having this conversation with him practically sitting in her lap.

      She’d been such an emotional mess when she’d first gone to her aunt’s home in Quebec it had taken months for the reality to set in.

      “When I left I didn’t know,” she hedged.

      He raised one eyebrow. “It’s been a year since you ran,” he said, his СКАЧАТЬ