Chapter 3 #3
Even as she said the words, however, she knew they weren’t entirely true. He had already proven he was different by insisting on helping her as she recovered. As for special? She’d have to wait and see, but she would not—could not—allow herself to expect anything from him.
She refused to ever again risk her heart for a man, especially one who had the power to crush her while moving on with his own life as if she’d never existed.
Never again.
Hours later, Mac carried Maddie and the wriggling Thomas back up to their apartment.
Despite being peed and puked on, Mac had done an admirable job—with her verbal assistance—of taking care of four babies ranging from nine to twelve months old.
To say he’d never changed a diaper before, he’d caught on fast, and Thomas had taken an instant shine to him.
Maddie held Thomas with her good arm while Mac navigated the stairs and play-bit the fingers Thomas put in his mouth. Mac had barely made eye contact with her all afternoon. Was it because of the kiss or something else? Had he heard what people said about her?
Her stomach ached and her palms grew damp. How she longed to be just a regular girl with nothing that made her different, without the suitcase full of troubles she dragged behind her. Sighing, she wished she could somehow lose the suitcase.
“Why the sigh?” Mac asked as he lowered her and Thomas to the sofa.
She ventured a glance up at him to find him watching her.
“Does something hurt?”
My heart. My stomach. My knee. “No.”
He scooped up Thomas as if he’d been doing it all the boy’s life. “What comes first? Dinner or bath?”
“I can take it from here. Why don’t you go visit your parents?”
“Are you going to keep this up all night?”
“Just until you get the hint that I don’t want you here.”
“You don’t? I’m shocked and hurt.”
“Shut up.”
He shielded Thomas. “Don’t talk that way in front of the child.”
The look she sent him could’ve cut glass.
“I’ll repeat the question: what comes first, dinner or bath?”
Through gritted teeth, she said, “Dinner or you’ll have to do the bath twice.”
“Got it.” He glanced down at the stains on his T-shirt. “I should probably change first. I reek.”
Maddie couldn’t help but notice how he held Thomas just right, propped on his hip with a strong arm protectively around him. “You, ah, might want to wait until after dinner and the bath. It can get a little messy.”
“This baby thing is not for the faint of heart, is it?” he asked, playfully scowling at Thomas, who clapped his hands.
“Which is why you shouldn’t get involved.”
“Too late.” He flashed a charming smile that made her mad all over again. “Well, all righty, buddy, let’s get to it.”
Following Maddie’s directions, Mac kept up a steady stream of animated chatter that held her son captivated in his high chair. Mac used a variety of voices and hand gestures to keep Thomas’s attention as he opened a jar of sweet potatoes to go with the tiny bites of leftover chicken.
“Just put the chicken on the tray,” she said. “He eats that with his fingers, but you’ll have to feed him the potatoes.”
“I can do that,” Mac said, making a funny face at Thomas.
Watching Mac’s intense focus on the task of wresting spoonfuls of orange baby food into Thomas, she wondered if he gave everything he did the same level of attention. The thought made her body tingle from head to toe.
He glanced at her. “What? Am I doing it wrong?”
Clearing her throat, she said, “No, you’re doing fine.”
Thomas took advantage of Mac’s break in concentration to grab the spoon and fling the orange glob, which landed with a loud splat on Mac’s cheek.
Maddie dissolved into giggles.
Thomas followed suit as Mac glowered at him.
“You think that’s funny, do you?” he asked, dabbing sweet potatoes on Thomas’s nose.
The baby laughed, and Maddie’s heart contracted with something strange and foreign and altogether uncomfortable. That’s when she realized she could warn herself off this man until the end of time and still find him irresistible, especially when he was displaying such tender kindness toward her son.
“I think I got more on him than in him,” Mac said when the jar was finally empty. The floor and wall around the high chair resembled a war zone, and both “men” were covered in orange slime.
“See why the bath comes after dinner, rather than before?”
“Your mommy is very wise,” Mac said to Thomas as he freed the squirming baby from the high chair. “But you already know that, don’t you? Let’s hit the tub, my man.”
Irritated that she couldn’t bathe her son herself, she said, “Just be careful. He’s like a slippery eel once he gets wet.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“Don’t let the water get too hot.”
“I won’t, don’t worry.”
“Towels are in the cabinet.”
“We’ll find ’em.”
She wished she could see them working out the logistics. Instead, she listened to Mac’s low voice as he talked to Thomas, who let out an occasional screech or a squeal. Bath time was his favorite part of the day, and she smiled, imagining the mess Mac would have to clean up when they were done.
Despite being badly injured, she had smiled more that day than she had in years. It was hard to stay dour with Mac’s cheerful, upbeat personality around to lighten things up.
The screen door opened, and Tiffany stuck her head in. “Just checking to see if you need anything.”
Thomas chose that moment to shriek.
Tiffany glanced at the bathroom. “What’s going on?”
“He’s giving Thomas a bath.”
Her sister’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Listen,” Maddie said.
The distinctive rumble of Mac’s voice mixed with Thomas’s baby patter and some serious splashing.
“Well,” Tiffany said grudgingly, “that’s nice of him.”
“Yes, it is.” Maddie wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to defend Mac.
“I hope you’re not getting all...” Tiffany waved her hand. “Caught up.”
“Save the sisterly advice. You have enough of your own problems. Stay out of mine.”
“Mark my words, Maddie. That guy is trouble.” In a hissing whisper, she added, “Remember what Evan McCarthy’s friend did to you? Evan knew he was lying and did nothing about it. That’s his brother in there. His brother. And what their mother did to Mom!”
“Stop! None of that has anything to do with him.” Maddie’s heart raced at the reminder of a long-ago time she never wanted to think about again. “Now please... go.”
After Tiffany stalked out the door, Maddie took several deep breaths to calm down. Her hands shook as the memories from that horrible year of high school came flooding back.
When Mac emerged, dripping wet, from the bathroom holding Thomas wrapped in his Mr. Froggie towel, Maddie forgot all about the past and returned her son’s gummy smile.
While Thomas had clearly won the battle in the tub, Mac looked awfully pleased with himself, even with water dripping from his hair to his face to his soiled T-shirt.
As she watched him bounce Thomas up and down on his hip, Maddie decided Tiffany was right about one thing: Mac McCarthy was trouble. Big, big trouble.