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“We’re both fine.”
“You haven’t changed a bit,” Stuart said, which wasn’t the most flattering thing he could say. Kim knew she had been an awkward, innocent and terribly shy art student with a passion for photography and a secret crush on a young doctor in the apartment downstairs. And she hadn’t changed much either, obviously.
“So,” she said, trying to regain some resemblance of professionalism. “Let’s get Brianne settled in the studio so that she’s comfortable. Your wife said she wanted an assortment of pictures to choose from and—”
“Oh,” he said, following her into the next room where Anna and Patrick waited, transfixed with curiosity. “That wasn’t my wife. You talked to—”
“What a beautiful baby,” Anna interrupted, holding out her arms. Brianne, obviously sensing a more comfortable chest to snuggle against, went willingly into Anna’s embrace as the plump woman settled herself on Kim’s leather sofa.
“Thanks,” Stuart said. “She takes after my side of the family, I think.”
So he wasn’t married to the baby’s mother. Divorced? Kim eyed the baby, who wasn’t more than five or six months old. No. It was more likely that Stuart and Brianne’s mother had never married. No surprise there. Stuart Thorpe attracted women like her twin sister attracted men.
It was a gift.
“Mrs. Gianetto, this is Stuart Thorpe, an old friend. Stuart, this is Anna Gianetto and Patrick O’Reilly, my neighbors.”
Patrick frowned at the younger man, but he stepped forward to shake Stuart’s offered hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, not sounding as if he meant it. “You know our Kim, huh?”
“Yes.”
“She’s a nice girl,” the old man declared. “A good girl.”
“Stuart,” Kim said quickly. “I heard that you’re a heart surgeon now.”
“Uh, yes—” he stopped, watching his baby. “Uh, Mrs.—”
“Gianetto,” Kim supplied, watching Anna cradle the child.
“Mrs. Gianetto,” Stuart tried again. “If you hold her like that she’ll think she’s going to get fed and then I’m afraid she’ll—”
Scream.
Kim winced. Brianne’s wail of frustration bounced off the ivory walls of the studio and effectively stopped conversation. Patrick winced and reached for his hearing aid.
“Mamma mia,” Anna exhaled. “This one has a temper like my first husband.” She lifted the little girl and aimed her toward Stuart.
“She takes after her mother,” he said, looking amused as he took the baby back into his arms. His smile faded as Brianne’s wails escalated.
“Where is her mother?” Kim asked.
“In Maine,” he shouted. “Family emergency!”
“Maybe it would be better if you waited until her mother returns,” Kim suggested. “Your little girl might be in a better mood for her pictures then.”
“I’ll catch hell for messing this up,” he muttered, awkwardly patting the baby’s back. “Can’t you do something? Some photographer tricks?”
“Give her to me.” She held out her arms and Stuart quickly handed over the baby. Brianne let out one more complaint and then stared at Kim as if she was trying to decide whether to scream again or not.
Patrick glared at Stuart again. “That baby of yours doesn’t seem to like her daddy very much.”
Stuart ignored him and looked at Kim. “Can you do anything with her? There are some extra clothes in her bag, I think, if we need them. And her blanket.”
“Look, sweetheart,” Kim said, keeping her voice low. “Would you like to see some pretty toys? Or some funny puppets?” Brianne’s brown eyes didn’t blink, but she took a deep shuddering breath.
Kim looked over at her audience of three. Stuart appeared relieved and tired. Anna sat on the couch as if she was watching a particularly fascinating television show and Patrick stood with his arms folded across his chest, clearly convinced he was protecting his women from a dangerous stranger.
“I take it you’re all staying?” she asked.
“I can wait outside,” Stuart offered, taking a step backward.
“Good idea,” Patrick said.
“But she knows you,” Kim told Stuart. As much as she wished he would leave, she couldn’t risk Brianne throwing another fit if she discovered she was alone with strangers. Babies were sensitive little beings, she knew. And they knew what was going on around them.
“If you insist,” Stuart said.
“Fine.” She didn’t want to insist. She wanted her heart to beat normally again and she wanted to stop worrying that her face was red. She also didn’t know how much longer she could hide how nervous she was.
“I’ll stay, too.” Patrick moved over to the couch and sat beside Anna.
“Great,” Kim muttered, moving over to the staged area where she photographed children. “You all have to be quiet. I don’t want her to be distracted.” She turned back to Stuart. “Did you bring any of her favorite toys?”
“I’ll look.” He practically ran out the door to the waiting room.
“What a nice young man,” Anna said. “You were friends, eh? What kind of friends?”
Kim shook her head. “Never mind about that, Anna. It was a long time ago. I was a senior in art school and he was in residency at Rhode Island Hospital. We lived in the same apartment house in East Providence.” She wondered if Brianne would be happier if she was propped into a sitting position or if she would be better on her tummy, lifting her head and smiling for the camera. She would have to try it both ways and hope the little girl wouldn’t object too loudly.
“Hmm,” her neighbor said. “You must have liked him. I can tell.”
“No,” Kim said. “Not really.” A secret crush, that was all, which she would never admit to anyone. Of course, Stuart hadn’t given her a second look after one casual date, except to ask who her twin was dating.
“Humph,” was all Anna said as Stuart, holding a pink terry cloth turtle and a darker rose blanket, hurried back into the room. He looked ridiculous and also terribly appealing, Kim thought, hoping she didn’t appear too pathetic and wistful as she watched him cross the room.
Funny that the man who swore he’d never settle down was now a father.
HE’D FORGOTTEN Kim Cooper was a photographer—or maybe he never knew. He hadn’t forgotten that reddish-gold hair or jade-green eyes or her slender little body. Kim Cooper had had a great-looking ass and still did, despite the fact that she wore baggy shorts. Stuart watched her work with his moody little niece, coaxing the baby into smiling for the camera. He caught the outline of her breasts when she bent over to adjust a black cord, glimpsed a bit of appealing cleavage in the V of her white blouse.
Stuart glanced over at Mr. O’Reilly and hoped the old man couldn’t read his mind. Patrick reminded him of an old bulldog his friend Harry had owned years ago.
He turned his attention back to Kim, who now held the baby’s toy turtle in the air, coaxing Bree into a smile as she clicked another picture.
“Good girl,” Kim cooed and Stuart swore the baby preened.
“What a little sweetheart,” the Italian woman declared. “She likes having her picture taken, doesn’t she.”
“What about a different outfit?” Kim scooped the baby into her arms and turned and looked at Stuart. “Your—Bree’s mother wanted quite a lot of proofs from which to choose.”
“I don’t have a clue.” Stuart wondered if he should apologize for not calling Kim, but that seemed silly since six years had passed since their one and only date.
“She didn’t tell you?”
He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of yellow-lined paper. “She wrote it down.” Stuart unfolded the list and noted that he’d forgotten to call off the “Baby and Me” exercise class, something so important that Payne had starred it. Nap, pink turtle, four-thirty appointment, pink outfit with white bunny and white dress with lace. He looked over at Brianne, who was dressed in a pink one-piece outfit with a teddy bear on the front. “I think I might have a fancy dress,” he said.
“Do you want to put it on her while I change the film?”
“Sure.” Before he knew it the baby was back in his arms and Kim was immersed in sorting through a strange array of equipment.
He’d forgotten how pretty Kim Cooper was. He didn’t see a wedding ring on her left hand, though he sneaked a peek before he went back into the waiting room to fetch the diaper bag. No diamond either, which surprised him. Kim had been the “marriage and babies” kind of woman he’d learned to avoid. Sweet, domestic, innocent, she had been perfect “wife” material.
For someone else.
Which meant he had run like hell in the opposite direction.
Stuart grabbed the baby’s bag, stuffed full of her belongings and headed back to the studio.
“We’ll do some outdoor pictures now,” Kim said, glancing out the window at the bright May sunshine.
“Outside?” Payne hadn’t said anything about that. If Bree got stung by a bee, his ass was grass and he’d never be invited to another one of his sister’s holiday meals again.
“I have it all set up,” she said, doing something with her camera. “The lilacs are going to bloom early this year. If we’re lucky we might be able to get a touch of color. At least we’ll get some background texture from the bushes, and the light should be good.”
“Our Kim is famous for her lilac pictures,” Anna confided to Stuart, who thought about ants, bees and ticks. Rhode Island was famous for mosquitoes, too. He rummaged through the bag for Bree’s sweater.
“Don’t worry about shoes,” Kim told him. “She can go barefoot. Baby toes are wonderful.”
“They are?”
“They are,” she said, pointing to the place on the couch that Mr. O’Reilly had just vacated. “You can change her there. And check her diaper, too. If she’s uncomfortable, she’s not going to smile.”
He did as he was told, laying Bree on her back on the sofa cushion. “Are you sure this outside is a good idea?”
“Trust me,” she said, giving him a quick smile that had a strange effect on the part of his body that had no business coming to life at this particular moment, in front of this particular audience.
2
BRIANNE HOWLED HER objections at having her pink outfit removed. She screamed about having her diaper changed. And she made Kim’s ears ring when she loudly protested having to put on a new dress.
“Sorry,” Stuart muttered, while Anna made the sign of the cross and Patrick once again reached for his hearing aid.
“Maybe I can help.” Kim finally put down her camera and took over the care of the child, not that she had much experience in dressing babies. But a blotchy, teary-eyed child would not take a good picture. The little girl knew enough to stick out her lower lip and give Kim a pitiful look from her big brown eyes, so Kim tickled her toes and made her giggle.
“How did you do that?” Stuart stood next to the couch, but out of the baby’s sight, as if he was afraid that Brianne would yell at him again.
“I have all sorts of ways to make babies smile,” she said, lifting the little girl into her arms. “Peekaboo, tickles with a feather duster, squeaky toys, things like that.”
She gathered the props she needed, handing them to Stuart to carry while she took the baby, who had now stopped crying and looked more curious than anything else. Kim’s audience followed her outside and around the side of the house to the backyard.
The lilac garden, a secluded rectangle of lawn bordered two sides by thick lilac bushes, lay behind the next door neighbor’s house. The huge white Victorian was the largest house in the neighborhood, and while some of the homes closest to the business-zoned street one block away had converted to businesses, “Lilac House”—with its dark purple shutters and elegant front porch—remained unchanged, as had Patrick’s and Anna’s large homes across the street.
Until now, Kim thought, ignoring the new No Trespassing sign posted on the whitewashed gate. She’d rented the space from Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle for the past four years, using the area for her outdoor photographs. When Mrs. Carlisle died and her husband went to live with his son, Kim and Kate tried to buy the strip of garden, but their letters to sweet old Mr. Carlisle had gone unanswered. There was little backyard space on their own property; between the garage and the parking area, there was no room to plant lilac bushes.
“Just a shame,” Anna muttered, following close behind Kim. “It’s so pretty back here and you’ve gone to so much work.”
“What’s a shame?” Stuart paused by the wicker baby stroller and frowned down at it. He negotiated his way around Kim’s favorite rusted wrought iron table and ornate iron chair, then stepped over several big pots of tulips and hyacinths leftover from the Easter photo sessions.
“That Kimmy can’t buy this,” the woman explained. “We think the house has been sold and it’s going to be turned into apartments and the lilac trees cut down for parking spaces.”
“That’s just a rumor.” Patrick gave Kim a reassuring look. “No one’s heard anything for sure.”
“I can’t seem to find out what’s going on,” Kim admitted. “Maybe Mr. Carlisle’s son is the one in charge of the property now.”
“He should be ashamed of himself,” Anna said. “He could have sold you the lilacs after you took care of them all these years.”
“It’s his property. He can do what he wants.” She handed the baby to Anna and then took the vintage sheets from Stuart, who gave her a pleading look.
“Tell me she won’t get stung by any flying insects.”
“She won’t get stung by any flying insects,” she repeated obediently, but her attention was focused on arranging the lace-edged sheet so that the wicker would show, too. She intended to take some black-and-white shots, along with the color.
“And we won’t be out here long,” he added.
“I’ll be as fast as I can be,” she promised. “If you would all stand back out of the way—no, over there, where you don’t cast shadows—Brianne and I will get to work.” Not that it would be easy to work, with Stuart frowning at her with that protective look on his face. His vigilance was surprisingly sexy, Kim realized, until she reminded herself to keep her mind on her work. She had no business thinking Stuart Thorpe was sexy, not when she should be concentrating on the job in front of her.
It didn’t take long to pose the baby in the stroller. The pretty little girl appeared to like being outdoors in the warm spring air. Most of the children she photographed did, especially if their feet were bare. Kim took some close-ups of those feet. The onlookers kept silent, except once when Stuart swore at a bee who dared come within eight feet of the wicker stroller.
Then Brianne screamed, spit up carrots on her eyelet lace collar and proceeded to call an end to the photo session.
“I guess that’s that,” Stuart said with a sigh, lifting her from the stroller. Since he already had carrot stains on his shirt, he didn’t seem to mind the new ones.
“I’m sure I have enough for you and her mother to choose from,” Kim assured him. Was she one of those socialites she’d seen him with on the front page of the Arts section in the Sunday paper? Was she slim and blond and very rich, with her very own lilacs and a car that didn’t need repairs every three months?
“Ooh, I’d like to see those pictures myself,” Mrs. G. said. She piled the sheets in her arms and Patrick moved the stroller out of the garden area and onto the back porch, while Kim led Stuart to the front of the house and the studio door.
“You have a lot of help here,” Stuart said. “Does Kate work here, too?”
“Yes. She specializes in bridal portraits and graduation photos.”
“Not baby toes?”
“No.” Kim smiled, remembering her twin’s disastrous attempts at photographing a set of triplets last year. “Kate’s not exactly the domestic type.”
“And her sister?”
She turned and ushered him into the reception room. “Babies are my business.”
“Hold her for a minute, will you?” Stuart didn’t wait for an answer and Kim found herself cuddling Brianne again while Stuart gathered up the baby’s possessions and haphazardly stuffed them into the diaper bag. When they were ready to leave, Kim tweaked Brianne’s big toe and made her smile. “Take good care of your daddy, sweetheart. I think he could use a break.”
