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Be conciliatory, she reminded herself. Do this for Pete and Ally. And Tyler. Even though you want to smack the man over the head with a wok, you have to be nice. At least for now. Make things work. It’s only for three months, and then he’ll realise that it’d be best if you looked after Tyler on your own. Come on, Emmy. You can do this. Smile.
‘Good evening. Is pasta OK with you for dinner?’ she asked when he walked into the kitchen.
He looked surprised. ‘You cooked dinner for me?’
‘As I was here, yes. By the way, that means it’s your turn to cook for us tomorrow.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He looked wary.
‘One thing you need to know. If I get hungry, I get grumpy.’ She gave him a level stare. ‘Don’t make me wait in future. You really won’t like me then.’ Which was a bit ironic. He didn’t like her now, and he hadn’t even seen her on a really bad day.
‘You could’ve eaten without me,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have minded just reheating something in the microwave.’
‘I had no idea how long you were going to be, and I would’ve felt bad if you’d turned up while I was halfway through eating my dinner.’ She paused. ‘Do you really work an hour’s commute away from here?’
‘No. I work in Docklands. About half an hour away.’ At least he had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I had to finish something, first.’
She blew out a breath. ‘OK. Take the lecture as read. We’re sharing Tyler’s care so, in future, you’re either going to have to learn to delegate, or you’ll have to work from home when the baby’s napping.’
Hearing his godson’s name seemed to galvanise Dylan. ‘Where is he?’
‘Asleep in his cot.’ She gestured to the kitchen table. ‘Sit down. I’ve made a start on the rota, given what we discussed yesterday morning. Perhaps you can review it while I finish cooking dinner, and move any of the sticky notes if you need to.’
‘Sticky notes?’ He looked puzzled.
‘Because it’s a provisional rota. Sticky notes mean it’s easy to move things around without the rota getting messy. Once we’ve agreed our slots, I’ll write it in properly. I’ll get it laminated. And then we can use sticky notes day by day to make any changes to the rota—that way it’ll be an obvious change so we’ll both remember it.’
‘OK.’ He looked at her. ‘Sorry.’
Dylan Harper had apologised to her? That was a first. Actually, no, it was the second time he’d said sorry to her in as many days. And, even though Emmy thought that he more than owed her that apology just now, she decided to be gracious about it. Be the bigger person. ‘It’s a bit of a radical lifestyle change for both of us. I think it’ll take us a while to get used to it.’
He nodded. ‘True.’
She concentrated on cooking the pasta and heating the sauce, then served up their meal at the kitchen table.
He put the card to one side. ‘The rota looks fine to me. I notice it’s a two-week one.’
‘I thought that would be fair, giving each other alternate weekends off.’
‘Yes, that’s fair,’ he agreed. He ate a mouthful of the pasta. ‘And this is good. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting dinner. I was going to make myself a sandwich or something.’
She knew exactly where he was coming from. ‘I do that too often. It doesn’t feel worth cooking for one, does it?’
‘Especially if cooking isn’t your thing.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I never expected to be living with—well, you.’
He’d made that perfectly clear. He really didn’t have to harp on about it. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it, for Tyler’s sake,’ she said dryly.
‘Agreed. How did you get on with the mortgage and the letting agency?’ he asked.
‘It’s all sorted. I’m letting my flat in Camden from Monday. You?’
‘It’s a short-term lease. Nadine has the house.’
His wife. ‘Have you told her about this?’
His expression said very clearly, that’s none of your business, and she shut up. No, it wasn’t her business. And he’d already said that nobody would be upset by him sharing a house and Tyler’s care with her.
‘I’ll go back to my place tonight to pick up the basics, and move the rest in over the next few days.’ He looked at her. ‘I assume you’ve done the same?’
‘Yes to the basics today, but I haven’t chosen a room yet. I was waiting for you.’ She grimaced. ‘I’m really glad Ally and Pete have two spare bedrooms as well as the nursery. I don’t think I could face using their room.’
‘Me, neither.’ He shrugged. ‘Which of the spare rooms I have doesn’t bother me. Pick whichever one you like.’
‘Thanks.’ Though it wasn’t the bedroom that concerned her most. ‘Can I use Pete’s study? I work from home,’ she explained, ‘and I need somewhere to set up my equipment. And that means a room with decent lighting.’
She was glad she’d been conciliatory when he said, ‘That’s fine by me. I can work anywhere with a laptop and a briefcase. So you have, what, some kind of workbench?’
It was the first time he’d ever shown any interest in her work, and it unnerved her slightly. She wasn’t used to Dylan being anything other than abrupt to her. ‘Yes, and I have a desk where I sketch the pieces before I make them. And before Tyler gets mobile I’ll need to get a baby gate fixed on the doorway. I don’t want him anywhere near my tools because they’re sharp and dangerous.’ She looked at him. ‘Are you any good at DIY?’
‘No. I’d rather pay someone to do it,’ he said.
That was refreshing. The men she’d dated in the past had all taken the attitude that having a Y chromosome meant that they’d automatically be good at DIY, and they weren’t prepared to admit when they were hopeless and couldn’t even put a shelf on straight. Then again, she wasn’t actually dating Dylan. He might be easy on the eye—she had to admit that he was good-looking—but he was the last man she’d ever want to date. He was way too uptight. ‘OK. I know the number of a good handyman. I’ll get it sorted.’
He looked at their empty plates. ‘I haven’t organised a cleaner yet.’
‘And I wouldn’t expect a cleaner to do dirty dishes,’ Emmy said crisply. ‘Especially as Ally and Pete have a dishwasher.’
‘Point taken. I’ll stack the dishwasher, then go and pick up my stuff.’
She chose her room while he was out, opting for the room she’d stayed in several times as a guest. It was strange to think that—unless things changed dramatically during their three-month trial—she’d be living here until Tyler had grown up. And even stranger to think she’d be sharing the house with Dylan Harper. Even if it might only be for a short time.
Still, she’d made a promise to Ally. She wouldn’t back out.
She unpacked the small case she’d brought with her, then checked on Tyler. He was still sound asleep. Unable to resist, she reached down to touch his cheek. Such soft, soft skin. And he was so vulnerable. She and Dylan really couldn’t let him down, whatever their doubts about each other. ‘Sleep tight, baby,’ she whispered, and went downstairs to the kitchen to wait for Dylan. She’d left the baby listener on; she glanced at it to make sure the lights were working, then put a cello concerto on low and began to sketch some ideas for the commission she’d been working on before the whole world had turned upside down.
* * *
When Dylan came back to the house, he was surprised to discover that Emmy was still up. He hadn’t expected her to wait up for him. Or was she checking up on him or trying to score some weird kind of point?
‘Is Tyler OK?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘He’s fast asleep.’
‘Whose turn is it on the rota for night duty?’ Then he grimaced. ‘Forget I asked that. You’ve been looking after him since Ally and Pete went to Venice, so I’ll go tonight if he wakes. Do I need to sleep on the floor in his room?’
‘No. There’s a portable baby listener.’ She indicated the device with lights that was plugged in next to the kettle. ‘Plug it in near your bed, and you’ll hear him if he wakes. The lights change when there’s a noise—the louder the noise, the more lights come on. So that might wake you, too.’
‘Is he, um, likely to wake?’ He didn’t have a clue about how long babies slept or what their routines were. Pete had never talked about it, and Dylan hadn’t really had much to do with babies in the past. His mother was an only child, so there had been no babies in his family while he’d been growing up; and Pete was the first of his friends to have a child. Babies just hadn’t featured in his life.
Although he’d accused Emmy of leaving him to do the serious stuff, he was guiltily aware that he’d never babysat his godson or anything like that, and she clearly had. She’d been a better godparent than he had, by far—much more hands-on. He’d just been selfish and avoided it.
‘He’d just started to sleep through, a couple of weeks back; but I guess he’s picked up on the tension over the last few days because he’s woken every night since the accident.’ Emmy sighed. ‘He might need a nappy change or some milk, or he might just want a cuddle.’
‘How do you know what he needs?’ Babies were too little to tell you. They just screamed.
‘The nappy, you’ll definitely know,’ she said dryly. ‘Just sniff him.’
‘Sniff him?’ Had she really said that?
She smiled. ‘Trust me, you’ll know if he has a dirty nappy. If he’s hungry, he’ll keep bumping his face against you and nuzzling for milk. And if he just wants a cuddle, hold him close and he’ll settle and go to sleep. Eventually.’
‘Poor little mite.’ Dylan felt a muscle clench in his cheek. ‘I hate that Pete’s never going to get to know his son. He’s not going to see him grow up. He’s not going to teach him to ride a bike or swim. He’s not going to...’ He blew out a breath. ‘I just hate all this.’
‘Me, too,’ she said softly. ‘I hate that Ally’s going to miss all the firsts. The first tooth, the first word, the first steps. All the things she was so looking forward to. She was keeping a baby book with every single detail.’
‘I never thought I’d ever be a dad. It wasn’t in my life plan.’ Dylan grimaced. ‘And I haven’t exactly been a hands-on godparent, so far. Not the way you’ve been. I’m ashamed to say it, but I don’t have a clue where I should even start right now.’
‘Most men aren’t that interested in babies until they have their own,’ she said. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it too much.’
‘I’ve never even changed a nappy before,’ he confessed. There really hadn’t been the need or the opportunity.
‘Are you trying to get out of doing night duty?’
Was she teasing him or was she going to throw a hissy fit? He really wasn’t sure. He couldn’t read her at all. Emmy was almost a stranger, and now she was going to be a huge part of his life, at least for the next three months. Unwanted, unlooked for. A woman who’d always managed to rub him up the wrong way. And he was going to have to be nice to her, to keep the peace for Tyler’s sake. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not trying to get out of it. But you know what you’re doing—you’ve looked after Tyler for the last few days on your own. And I was just thinking, it might be an idea if you teach me what I need to do.’
She blinked at him. ‘You want me to teach you?’ She tested the words as if she didn’t believe he’d just said them.
‘If I don’t have a business skill I need, I take a course to learn it. This is the same sort of thing. It might save us both a lot of hassle,’ he said dryly. ‘And I think it’d be better if you show me in daylight rather than tell me now. You know the old stuff about teaching someone—I hear and I forget, I see and remember, I do and I understand.’
She nodded. ‘Fair enough. I’ll keep the baby listener with me tonight. But, tomorrow, please make sure you’re back early so I can teach you the basics—how to change a nappy, make up a bottle of formula, and do a bath. By early, I mean before five o’clock.’
When was the last time he’d left the office before seven? He couldn’t remember. Tough. Tomorrow, he’d just have to make the effort. ‘Deal,’ he said.
‘OK. See you tomorrow.’
He realised that she’d been working when she closed a folder and picked up a handful of pencils. But then again, hadn’t she said something about preferring to work in the evening? So he squashed the growing feeling of guilt. She was self-employed. A sole trader who didn’t need to keep to traditional business hours. She obviously worked the hours that suited her.
‘See you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Which room did you pick?’
‘The one opposite Tyler’s.’
Which left the one next to Pete and Ally’s room for him. ‘OK. Thanks.’ And then he realised he hadn’t brought any bedding with him.
‘The bed’s already made up,’ she said. ‘I used linen from Ally and Pete’s airing cupboard. I don’t think they’d mind and it’d be a waste not to use it.’
He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise I’d said that aloud.’
‘It’s a lot to take in. A lot of change.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ll muddle through.’
‘Yeah. Sleep well.’ Which was a stupid thing to say; of course she wouldn’t, because Tyler would wake up.
But she didn’t look annoyed. Her eyes actually crinkled at the corners. Again, Dylan was struck by the fact that Emmy Jacobs was pretty. And again it tipped him off balance. He couldn’t even begin to think about Emmy in that way; it would make things far too complicated.
‘Sleep well, Dylan,’ she said, and strolled out of the kitchen.
* * *
Given how late Dylan had been the previous night, and the fact that Emmy had asked him to be back before five, he thought he’d better take the afternoon off to deal with the baby-care issues. He walked in to the house to find Emmy playing with the baby and singing to him, while the baby gurgled and smiled at her.
This felt distinctly weird. He’d never been that interested in babies and he’d never wanted a family of his own—which was most of the reason why he’d married Nadine, because she’d been just as dedicated to her career as he was and didn’t pose any kind of emotional risk. Or so he’d thought. He hadn’t expected her to change her mind and give him an ultimatum: give me a baby or give me a divorce. He didn’t want a baby, so the choice was obvious.
And now he was here. Instead of being in his minimalist Docklands bachelor flat, he was living in a family home. Sharing the care of a tiny, defenceless baby. And he didn’t have the least idea about what he was doing.
Emmy looked up at him. ‘Hey, Ty, look, it’s Uncle Dylan.’ She smiled. ‘You’re back early.’
It was the first time Dylan could ever remember Emmy smiling spontaneously at him, as if she were genuinely pleased to see him, and he was shocked that it made him feel warm inside.
Was he going crazy, reacting like this to her?
No, of course not. It was just because he’d been knocked off balance by Pete and Ally’s death. Grief made him want to hold someone, that was all; to feel connected to the world, still. He was not becoming attracted to Emmy Jacobs. Even though he was beginning to think that maybe she wasn’t quite who he’d always thought she was.
‘We agreed you were going to teach me about nappies and baths,’ he said. ‘And you asked me to come back early. Here I am.’ He spread his hands. ‘So let’s get it sorted.’
She blew a raspberry on Tyler’s tummy, making the baby giggle. ‘He’s clean at the moment, so we might as well hold off on that side until he really needs a nappy change. But he’s wide awake, so you can play with him.’
‘Play with him?’ Dylan repeated. He knew it was ridiculous—he was the head of a very successful computer consultancy and could sort out tricky business problems quickly and effectively. But he didn’t have a clue about how to play with a baby. He’d never done it. Never needed to do it.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Dylan, you can’t just sit and work on your laptop when you’re in charge and Ty’s awake. You need to play with him. Read to him. Talk to him.’
Dylan frowned. ‘Isn’t he a bit young for books?’
‘No. Pete used to read to him,’ she said softly. ‘Ally read up about it and she wanted Tyler to have a good male role model. So Pete always did the bedtime story.’
OK. Reading to a baby couldn’t be that hard. Talking, too. But playing...where did you start? He didn’t know any baby games. Any nursery rhymes.
As if the panic showed on his face, she smiled at him. ‘Come and give him a cuddle.’
And this was where Dylan got nervous. Where things could go terribly wrong. Because he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. And he hated the fact that he had to take advice from someone as flaky as Emmy, because she clearly knew more about babies than he did. ‘Do I have to hold his head or something?’
‘No. He’s four months old, not a newborn, so he can support his head just fine. He can’t sit up on his own yet, but that’ll happen in a few weeks.’ She looked at him. ‘OK. You might want to change.’
‘Why?’
‘Unless you don’t mind your suit getting creased and needing to go to the cleaner’s more often.’
The question must’ve been written all over his face, because she added, ‘You’re going to be on the floor with him a lot.’
She had a point. ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’ Dylan took the stairs two at a time to his room, then changed into jeans and T-shirt.
