The 15 Lb. Matchmaker

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Jolie rocked him in her arms for a few more moments and crooned silly endearments, then put him back down.

If she didn’t have dinner ready, Griff would leave and she would miss a chance to talk to him. Hurrying through the preparation, she finished up and tugged on the bell chain.

The loud clang made her jump.

What an annoying noise, she thought as she pulled out her chair and sat.

Griff slid into his chair and forked a bite off the plate of fresh greens topped by a broiled, sliced chicken breast. After a few bites he said, “This is good. What’s for dinner?”

She thought he must be kidding, but so far she hadn’t seen him display a glimpse of a sense of humor. “This is dinner.”

“Is there any more?” He looked at her with a hopeful expression.

Jolie shook her head. “No. Sorry.”

What was wrong with her? She should have realized a man who worked outside all day would need more than a salad for dinner. She pushed a basket of bread toward him.

At least he was talking. If they had to start with food, that was fine with her. “What kind of food do you like for dinner?”

He thought for a minute. “Steak. The chest freezer in the mudroom is full.”

Of course he would like beef. He grew them, didn’t he? She hadn’t looked in the chest freezer that took up half of one wall.

The top of the appliance was piled with newspapers and bags of empty beer cans. Her hands had been full with Riley and she hadn’t taken the time to clear it off so she could check inside. She had discovered the ice-incrusted package of chicken breasts in the freezer section of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“We need to talk about Riley.” Jolie laid her fork on her plate.

He glanced down at the baby, who stared back at him. “What about him?”

Jolie started with something small and worked her way up. “He doesn’t have any toys.”

Griff shrugged. “Isn’t he too young for toys?”

“Not at all. He needs things to help develop his hand-eye coordination.”

He frowned and threw her a skeptical look, then shrugged.

Jolie groped around for something else to say to keep him talking to her. “And he has very few clothes.”

His features tightened up. “Can you drive a stick shift?”

“Yes.” She noted the change in his expression and wondered if money was a problem for him.

She’d gladly charge everything the baby needed, but the only thing her credit cards were good for now was scraping gum off the bottom of her shoe.

He waved his hand. “Take the truck and get what he needs.”

Embarrassed to ask, she saw no alternative. “I’ll need money.”

He rolled on his hip and worked his wallet out of a back pocket, pulled out a handful of bills and put the money in the middle of the table.

“What about a baby’s car seat? Do you have one of those?” There hadn’t been one in the truck he had driven last night.

Jolie watched Griff’s features tighten up even more as he shook his head.

Getting answers out of him was a painful process. What did he do, lay the baby on the seat of that big truck of his? She felt a spurt of anger at his disregard for his son’s safety.

He pushed his chair back, and she grabbed his arm to stay him, feeling the hard, warm muscle under the fabric of his shirt. “There’s more I need to say before you leave again.”

She had waited all day to talk to him, and she didn’t have time to put this off.

He looked down at her hand clutching his arm and she felt the hard muscle under her fingers tense. “Hurry up and get it over with. I’ve got work to do.”

Jolie dropped her hand, sorry that she had touched him like that. He obviously didn’t like it.

“I’m worried about Riley.”

Griff looked quickly at the baby, then back at Jolie. “He looks fine to me. Is he sick?”

Jolie took a deep breath. No parent wanted to hear that something might be wrong with their child. She chose her words carefully.

“No. Physically he appears to be fine. But you must have noticed that he doesn’t crawl or reach for things.”

Griff sat very still, studying fingers splayed on his knees. What was he looking for, bamboo strips under his fingernails? she thought sourly. He acted as if he was being tortured.

Finally he glanced up at her and spoke. “Isn’t he too young to do those things?”

“No. He should be reaching and crawling and even pulling himself up to stand.”

Griff rubbed his palms against his blue-jean-clad thighs and stared at Riley.

Jolie waited for him to absorb the information, then asked gently, “What has his pediatrician told you about his development?”

“Pediatrician?” He looked at her blankly.

“Do you take him to your regular doctor?” Maybe he used a family practice doctor.

Griff shrugged, still staring at the baby. “I haven’t taken him to the doctor.”

Jolie was appalled. What about his well-baby checks and vaccinations? “Never?”

“I just got him, okay?”

Jolie’s head jerked up at his rough tone that didn’t quite mask the pain underneath. “What?”

Just got him? It hadn’t occurred to her that Riley might have been living elsewhere. She assumed his ex-wife had left him and the child.

“You heard me.” He clamped his mouth shut so tightly a muscle twitched in his jaw.

She had heard him, and what he said made a big difference. She decided to try another approach. “Look, I know you think I’m prying, but there are things I need to know if I’m going to take care of Riley.”

Agitated, Griff told himself he had wasted too much time eating the rabbit food she passed off as dinner, and he had heard more than enough talk. She may have a degree in some field about children, but she didn’t know what she was talking about.

Dread he didn’t want to face had him standing up so fast his chair tipped over and crashed against the floor.

Furious at himself for reacting to her, he jerked the chair upright and turned on her. “You are prying. There’s nothing wrong with the kid. I hired you to feed him and watch him. That’s all.”

If he didn’t get out of the kitchen he was going to say something he’d regret about her nosy ways. He walked out the door, leaving her with her pretty little mouth hanging open.

Griff stopped in the middle of the yard and ran his hands through his hair. It was a wonder he could keep his temper at all around her. She was a managing kind of female with a body that made him want to weep.

There was nothing wrong with Riley. If there had been, the social worker would have said something.

The problem was her. It had to be her. He couldn’t handle it if it wasn’t.

Exhaustion dragged at him. It would be hours tonight before they finished riding the fence line. He tipped his head back and stared at the stars, just starting to show in the evening sky.

He had awakened several times last night with the thought that she was sleeping just down the hall. Usually when he was working as hard as he had been lately, he slept like a rock.

He was horny, tired and hungry. None of the conditions improved his disposition.

Last night, on his way back to the house, he had decided that he wasn’t going to sleep with her. He had learned the hard way that the hotter his blood ran for a woman, the colder his bed was when she left.

The decision seemed reasonable until he was in the same room with her.

To get his mind off her sweet little body, he thought about what she had said about his nephew.

She was wrong about Riley. The kid was fine. Just quiet, like him.

There was such a thing as too much education, and he suspected that was Jolie Carleton’s problem. She wanted to see things that weren’t there.

Riley had looked okay to Griff, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. The kid didn’t need toys. He didn’t play with the spoons and stuff he had. And if he hadn’t started to crawl yet, that just made her job easier. She didn’t have to chase after him.