The Baby Clause 2.0 (The Contract #1.75) Page 4

  Samantha was waiting when I returned, a bottle ready, but as soon as I tried to hand Gracie off, she began to cry and kick her legs.

  “She’ll be fine once I start feeding her. They’re waiting for you,” she assured me, taking Gracie from my arms.

  I swallowed my retort, and turned to leave. I only made it to the door when the sobs got to me. Turning, I looked at my daughter. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she fought against Samantha. Her pathetic expression was fucking killing me, and then she said it.

  “Dada,” she whimpered out. I was certain I heard it, although Samantha didn’t react. But it was clear—she didn’t want her damn bottle. She wanted me.

  There was no choice to be made.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered.

  I was sure Graham’s eyebrows hit his hairline when I walked back into the boardroom, complete with Gracie strapped to my chest, a soother stuffed in her mouth, and a bottle ready in case. Jenna glanced away, trying not to laugh.

  Mr. Cunningham looked shocked.

  “I apologize. My wife is ill at home, and my daughter won’t settle for anyone but me. I know this seems unorthodox, but let me finish.”

  I sighed in relief when he nodded. I would take whatever shit Graham gave me later, but right now, I had to make sure Gracie was okay, and please the client.

  I could do both.

  Forty minutes later, Gracie was asleep, my voice and the constant movement as I paced the boardroom pacifying her. Mr. Cunningham shook my hand, and for the first time ever, smiled. “Brilliant,” he praised.

  “Thank you. Sorry about the interruption.”

  He shook his head. “Do you know how often I had to stop meetings or be interrupted when my children were small? My wife worked with me, and we had an office for the kids, but invariably they would find me when they wanted something. I wouldn’t change those memories for anything.” He eyed me for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “I want to do business where family is first, and the people share my values. You proved to me it is here. The contract is yours.”

  I didn’t know how to respond—those were words I never thought anyone would ever utter to me.

  Graham chuckled. “Looks like Gracie was our ringer, Richard.”

  Bending my head, I pressed a kiss to her fuzzy curls. She woke up as soon as I stopped walking, but was happy as long as she was close.

  “I guess she is.”

  Mr. Cunningham laughed, and patted Gracie’s head. She grabbed at his fingers, pulling on them and making him laugh. “I hope to see more of her.” He turned to Graham. “Shall we discuss the logistics?”

  Graham extended his arm. “Jenna, show Mr. Cunningham to my office.” Then he turned to me. “Go home. You look a fright, and I’m sure your wife needs you.” He leaned forward, trying to hide his amusement. “A piece of fatherly advice. You should always look down, Richard.”

  I glanced down at my feet and cringed. I hadn’t noticed the splatter on my shoe.

  I had to join in his laughter. He was right. In addition to my shoe, my suit was ruined, my shoulder a mess, and Gracie, before falling asleep, had drooled all over my hand and arm, so the sleeve was soaked. I knew my hair was sticking up everywhere from my anxious tugging, and the front of me felt far too damp and warm. I had a feeling I didn’t have the diaper on as snugly as I should. I needed to go home, get cleaned up, and look after my wife.

  I shook his hand. “Will do.”

  He shook his head as he left the boardroom. “It’s never dull with you, Richard. Ever.”

  Laughing, I made my way to my office, and gathered up all the baby things scattered around. It surprised me still how many items it took to keep a human this small alive and happy while you were out of the house.

  Still, I wouldn’t change a thing.

  I settled into the chair on the deck with a relieved groan. Gracie was asleep, I was clean, and Katy was resting. I had tried repeatedly to get Gracie to say “Dada” again so Katy could hear it, but she chose to remain silent.

  “Honestly, Katy. She said it.”

  She patted my cheek. “I believe you.”

  I knew without a doubt, she was lying. But Gracie had said it while she was reaching for me. Or it may have been duh, but I was certain it was Dada.

  The house was quiet, the sun beginning to set, and I was enjoying a hard-earned beer and sandwich. The water in the pool shimmered in the evening light, and I decided I’d have a dip once I finished eating.

  I had spoken to Graham, and he told me the contract had been signed. I laughed at his description of me striding back into the boardroom with Gracie strapped to my chest, and a bottle in my hand, determined to finish my presentation. “Not a sight I ever thought I’d see when it came to you, Richard. I almost fell off my chair.”

  I had to agree with him. It wasn’t something I ever saw happening, either. Only a couple years ago, if I had been at a meeting and witnessed what occurred today, I would have rolled my eyes, thought the man was an idiot, and would never have done business with the company.

  How I had changed.

  Graham was glad to hear Katy felt better and Gracie had settled. We were both shocked about the fact it was my attention to my child that swung things in my favor. We never would have guessed under that unsmiling countenance beat the heart of a devoted family man.

  “Like you,” he added with a laugh.

  And he was right. When it came to my family, Graham was right.

  “I think Gracie can sit out the Conrad presentation next week. We don’t want to get in trouble with the labor laws or anything,” he teased. “We’ll only keep her for the real tough cases.”

  “Right,” I snickered and hung up.

  I drained my beer, headed to the cottage, and changed into my trunks. I set the baby monitor beside the pool, and dove in, the cool water refreshing. I swam some laps, surprised to find Katy sitting on the edge of the pool when I reach the end.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” I pushed up out of the water and kissed her. “You look better.”

  “I feel better.”

  “Good.”

  “Gracie is sleeping hard.”

  I smirked. “She had a big day. It’s not every day a baby is the deciding factor in a business deal, you know.”

  She chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet of the evening.

  “Did you eat?”

  She shook her head. “I had some ginger ale. I’ll try something later.”

  “No more Ebi, I guess,” I teased, rubbing her legs.

  “Not for a while.”

  “I’m sorry—the one time you want Japanese food, it makes you sick.”

  She studied me for a moment, then bent low, meeting my gaze steadily. “It wasn’t the sushi.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “Think about it, my darling. You weren’t ill.”

  “True. I thought it was the Ebi. I only had a couple.”

  She chuckled. “A couple? The way you inhaled it, I don’t think so.”

  “What was it then? The flu?” I groaned. “God, I hope I don’t get it. Or even worse, Gracie.” The thought of her sick made me shudder. Lord only knew what smells she’d produce then.

  “Not the flu. The baby.”

  I frowned in confusion. “Gracie made you sick?”

  “Not that baby.”

  “Do you have a fever, Katy? You’re not making any sense. We only have one baby.”

  “For now.”

  It took a moment to sink in. When the words did, I stared at her, then at her stomach. “Again?” I gasped. “I bought condoms!”

  “And how often have we used them?”

  I was at a loss for an answer. I did get carried away fast when it came to my wife. I remember opening the box—I think.

  “I did it again? Knocked you up?”

  “Either you or the pool boy.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “We don’t have a pool boy.”

  “Then it’s on you. Gracie is going to have a baby brother or sister
in about seven months.” She grinned. “Dr. Suzanne called you an overachiever.”

  Holy shit.

  I wrapped my hands around her calves, staring at her legs. She let me process. She always knew what I needed. My mind raced—I hadn’t expected this. Gracie was only six months old. We’d have two children under the age of two. Our busy lives would get even busier. Then I thought of the love I had for Gracie. The way it felt when I held her in my arms. The way it made me feel when it was my touch or voice that she needed. How big it made me feel. It was everything. She and Katy were the most important things in my life. I lifted my gaze to meet my wife’s watchful scrutiny. Her expression was joyful, and her eyes danced. She was thrilled.

  Then I realized, so was I.

  With a whoop, I pulled her into the water, snickering at her gasp. I covered her mouth with mine, holding her tight with one hand, and gripping the side of the pool with the other. I kissed her hard, long, and deep.

  Pulling back, I rested my forehead on hers. “So, today was morning sickness?”

  She had struggled with that when she was pregnant with Gracie.

  “Yes.”

  “Morning sickness is a crap name for it, by the way. They need to improve their marketing. Anytime projectile vomit is more accurate.”

  She laughed in agreement.

  “And the Japanese food was a craving?”

  “Yes. I had suspected yesterday, and Suzanne confirmed it this morning when she called with the news.” She smiled. “I didn’t want to tell you while I was throwing up and all. Give you the wrong idea that maybe I wasn’t happy.”

  “But you are?”

  “Yes.”

  “So am I.” I pulled her closer. “Another baby. Good thing we bought a big house.”

  “Good thing I love you so much I don’t mind being knocked up again.”

  I dropped a kiss to her head. “Good thing, indeed. Think it will be a boy this time?”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  I eased us into the shallow end, and held her close. “Yep. And if not, we can keep trying.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “I’m willing to give it my best shot. Show Suzanne how much of an overachiever I really am.”

  She sighed in contentment. “This from the man who didn’t want children.”

  “I want everything with you.” I squeezed her, suddenly feeling serious. I spread my hand over her stomach. “Thank you, my Katy.”

  “I love you, Richard.”

  “I love you, sweetheart.” I smiled. “I love you, and I love our life.” I knew how lucky I was. How different my life had become, how I had changed since I fell in love with her. She had changed me for the better. She filled my life with great moments. The ones Penny told me to hold on to.

  She covered my hand with hers, looking up at me.

  “Me, too.”

  I bent down and kissed her. The monitor crackled and Gracie’s babble filled the air.

  “Dadadadadada.”

  I fist pumped the air. “Told you!”

  She laughed. “I guess you did. You’re being paged.”

  I hauled myself out of the pool, grabbed a towel, and headed toward the house and my new, favorite sound.

  Dada.

  Yeah. Another great moment.

  Thanks to my family, life was full of them.

  Many thanks to my lovely group of prereaders. Karen, Janett, Beth, Darlene, Shelly, and Lisa. I appreciate all you do and all your support.

  Thank you to Suzanne, Deb, Trina, and Pam. You are amazing.

  Karen—your friendship—words cannot express it properly. Not even mine.

  Jeanne—many thanks for your work, my friend. You mean more than you know.

  To all the bloggers who devote so much time to us authors, and our words, thank you is not enough.

  Thank you to my reading group—Melanie’s Minions. You make it fun!

  Matt—I love you. Always. There is nothing else as important.

  Into the Storm

  Beneath the Scars

  Over the Fence

  The Contract

  It Started with a Kiss

  Coming in September 2017 from Random House, Loveswept—My Image of You

  New York Times/USA Today bestselling author Melanie Moreland, lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her beloved husband of twenty-seven-plus years and their rescue cat Amber. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.

  While seriously addicted to coffee, and highly challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties, and enjoys travelling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.

  Melanie delights in a good romance story with some bumps along the way, but is a true believer in happily ever after. When her head isn’t buried in a book, it is bent over a keyboard, furiously typing away as her characters dictate their creative storylines to her, often with a large glass of wine keeping her company.

  Contact Melanie

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