Maybe, Baby

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CHAPTER FIVE

NORA SHOVED a hunk of hair behind one ear and frowned at the jumble of dishes in the sink and the meager pile of breakfast ingredients on the kitchen counter. She hadn’t kept up with the housework, she’d forgotten she was running low on her emergency supply of breakfast basics, and now she had to share all her shortcomings with an unexpected guest.

A guest who wandered through her house in the middle of the night, intruding on her private time, the dark and quiet hours when she was most lonely, most vulnerable. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that, with her pillow-mussed hair and her fatigue-tinged eyes, with her spit-up-stained nightgown and her ratty robe. And yet it had been good to know there was someone else there, someone who cared about her enough to come looking for her, to offer her assistance and reassurance.

She’d forgotten how supportive Burke could be. Had always been.

But before last night, they’d always spent their time together in small doses, in afternoons at Fitz’s house or quick conversations at parties, in snatches of between-scene activity on the set or in a shared meal. In passing, really.

It wasn’t until she’d been confronted by his things in her bathroom this morning—neatly arranged and organized—that she’d begun to consider the consequences of her impulsive invitation, to worry over the damage sharing such close quarters might do to their friendship. They were already dealing with a difficult situation. Why had she added another layer of stress to it?

And why had he agreed to the arrangement?

“Good morning.”

She turned to see him standing in the hall doorway, looking adorably tense, his shower-damp hair slicked back and his briefcase dangling from one hand. The boots on his feet looked new enough to give him blisters, and his crisp white shirt was neatly tucked into jeans that looked so stiff they could probably stand on their own creased legs.

“Good morning,” she said. “I hope you’re not too hungry.”

He frowned and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Why?”

“Because the snow might be too deep to get to the ranch house, and I don’t have much to eat here.”

He strode to the window above the table and stared at the white-coated scene outside. “It doesn’t look too deep to me. Besides, I rented an SUV.”

“I know.” She picked up a carving knife and hacked at the slightly stale bagel she’d found in the bread bin. “It was a good idea, too.”

“It’s for driving in the snow.”

“It’s for driving without chains on snowy pavement that’s been plowed.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m not sure a city slicker like you could handle an off-road, cross-country trek.”

“Are you saying we might be stuck here?” He cleared his throat, neatly covering the note of panic she’d heard in his voice. “Isn’t there someone we can call?”

“About what?”

“About getting us out of here.”

“You just got here.” She turned with a smile and offered half the bagel, slathered with cream cheese. “Relax. It’s Saturday. Put your feet up. Have a bagel.”

“I don’t want a bagel. Thank you,” he added politely. “I’d like to see about arranging for an Internet connection.”

“Ah, yes. The Internet. First things first.”

“I do have work to do.”

Somewhere in that briefcase was a job offer she wasn’t ready to consider and paperwork she dreaded reading. She pasted on a brilliant smile and cocked her head to one side, prepared to deal with things as best she could. “What kind of work, exactly?”

“My job.”

She lifted an eyebrow and bit into the bagel. “Excuse me for prying.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And excuse me for snapping at you. I guess I need some coffee.”

“Me, too.” She shrugged. “I didn’t remember that I’m out, or I’d have borrowed some from Jenna last night.”

“You don’t have any coffee?”

“Nope.”

“Tea?”

“Sorry. Finished that off last night.”

“Juice?”

“Apple.”

“I’ll take it,” he said. “Unless you need it. For the baby.”

“Ashley doesn’t drink apple juice.”

“I meant…” A charming blush stained his cheeks. “Where is she, by the way?”

“Napping.”

“In the morning?”

“She naps through the day, off and on.” Nora opened the refrigerator door and pulled a bottle of juice from one of the shelves. “You learn to cram all the nonbaby activities into the quiet times.”

She took a glass from one of the honey-toned oak cupboards and filled it with juice. “We’re not really trapped here, you know.”