fixing oatmeal for him, but he can have a muffin, too.”
Wyatt
followed them to the kitchen. When he remained silent, she looked at him over her
shoulder and found him making goofy faces at Sean. His uncharacteristic
boyishness annoyed the bejeesus out of her, but she bit her tongue, determined
to continue her usual morning routine.
After
buckling Sean into his high chair, Kara snapped a bib around his neck, and then
removed a bowl from the microwave. She dipped her little finger in to test the
oatmeal’s temperature before she gave it to him.
“I’ll
feed that to him.” Wyatt pulled up a chair in front of the tray.
“He’ll
feed himself. He does pretty well with a spoon.” Kara watched, almost, but not
quite, amused to see Wyatt so eager to involve himself in fatherly tasks. “If
you sit that close, you’ll wind up covered in oatmeal.”
“I’m
washable.” He looked around the kitchen from the washed pine cabinets to the
granite countertops, the copper clad pots, and the gleaming hardwood. “This is
great. Very warm and friendly.”
“Thanks.”
She handed Sean a sipper cup filled with milk. Placing the muffins on a
platter, she surreptitiously inhaled. They smelled like heaven. Slicing one in
fourths, she gave the child one of the sections, and popped one in her mouth.
“Coffee?” she asked Wyatt.
“Sure,
thanks,” he said, snitching a muffin bit for himself. He asked Sean, “Is that
good?”
Sean
held out his spoon for Wyatt to take a bite. Kara expected him to pretend to
sample the cereal, but he leaned over and actually tasted it, smacking his lips
with exaggerated pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”
“Dee-yicious,”
Sean agreed.
Wyatt
accepted a muffin and coffee, but he kept his full attention on the child. Most
of Sean’s running commentary sounded incomprehensible to the untrained ear.
Several times Wyatt needed Kara to interpret the toddler’s unique vocabulary.
“Down,”
Sean commanded at last.
“Hang
on, little man,” Kara said. “Let’s wash your face and hands first.”
She
performed the clean-up, and then stood Sean on the floor. A pang of jealousy
stabbed her as he ran to Wyatt. Standing between his knees, the boy hung an arm
over each sturdy thigh and lifted his feet from the floor. He swung himself
from Wyatt’s legs, then looked up and grinned. “Play toys?”
“Sure.”
Wyatt lifted him onto his lap and turned to Kara. “What does he like to play?
And where?”
Kara
nodded toward the family room. “Put him down. He’ll show you.”
She
intended to straighten the kitchen, but couldn’t seem to allow the two of them
to go off alone together even a few feet away from her. Instead, she watched
the unflappable gazillionaire gamely stack blocks, sort shapes, hammer plastic
pegs, and make chugging sounds as Sean sent a wooden train hurtling around a
track. If Wyatt kept on like this, damn, him, she’d have to admit he’d be a
positive addition to Sean’s life.
The
ease with which the two took to one another caused Kara equal parts of
resentment and pride. She couldn’t help but be pleased when Sean brought her a
carousel to wind up. But when the horses whirled and the music began to play,
he promptly carried it back to Wyatt.
The
sound of a key in the back door announced Maria’s arrival seconds before she
burst on the scene.
“Hey,
what’s with the limo in the driveway?” She stopped in the middle of removing
her coat as she caught sight of Wyatt. A look of speculation bounced from Kara
to the visitor. “Well, hi there.” A sly smile curled her lips. “I’m surprised
you’re still here.”
Kara
felt an unaccustomed desire to blush or explain Wyatt’s presence. But she was
the boss, the adult, and the mother, not the employee, the college student, or
the babysitter. And any explanation she could possibly make would only
complicate the situation.
“I’m
here again,” Wyatt explained. “Not still. I left last night and came back
Wyatt
followed them to the kitchen. When he remained silent, she looked at him over her
shoulder and found him making goofy faces at Sean. His uncharacteristic
boyishness annoyed the bejeesus out of her, but she bit her tongue, determined
to continue her usual morning routine.
After
buckling Sean into his high chair, Kara snapped a bib around his neck, and then
removed a bowl from the microwave. She dipped her little finger in to test the
oatmeal’s temperature before she gave it to him.
“I’ll
feed that to him.” Wyatt pulled up a chair in front of the tray.
“He’ll
feed himself. He does pretty well with a spoon.” Kara watched, almost, but not
quite, amused to see Wyatt so eager to involve himself in fatherly tasks. “If
you sit that close, you’ll wind up covered in oatmeal.”
“I’m
washable.” He looked around the kitchen from the washed pine cabinets to the
granite countertops, the copper clad pots, and the gleaming hardwood. “This is
great. Very warm and friendly.”
“Thanks.”
She handed Sean a sipper cup filled with milk. Placing the muffins on a
platter, she surreptitiously inhaled. They smelled like heaven. Slicing one in
fourths, she gave the child one of the sections, and popped one in her mouth.
“Coffee?” she asked Wyatt.
“Sure,
thanks,” he said, snitching a muffin bit for himself. He asked Sean, “Is that
good?”
Sean
held out his spoon for Wyatt to take a bite. Kara expected him to pretend to
sample the cereal, but he leaned over and actually tasted it, smacking his lips
with exaggerated pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”
“Dee-yicious,”
Sean agreed.
Wyatt
accepted a muffin and coffee, but he kept his full attention on the child. Most
of Sean’s running commentary sounded incomprehensible to the untrained ear.
Several times Wyatt needed Kara to interpret the toddler’s unique vocabulary.
“Down,”
Sean commanded at last.
“Hang
on, little man,” Kara said. “Let’s wash your face and hands first.”
She
performed the clean-up, and then stood Sean on the floor. A pang of jealousy
stabbed her as he ran to Wyatt. Standing between his knees, the boy hung an arm
over each sturdy thigh and lifted his feet from the floor. He swung himself
from Wyatt’s legs, then looked up and grinned. “Play toys?”
“Sure.”
Wyatt lifted him onto his lap and turned to Kara. “What does he like to play?
And where?”
Kara
nodded toward the family room. “Put him down. He’ll show you.”
She
intended to straighten the kitchen, but couldn’t seem to allow the two of them
to go off alone together even a few feet away from her. Instead, she watched
the unflappable gazillionaire gamely stack blocks, sort shapes, hammer plastic
pegs, and make chugging sounds as Sean sent a wooden train hurtling around a
track. If Wyatt kept on like this, damn, him, she’d have to admit he’d be a
positive addition to Sean’s life.
The
ease with which the two took to one another caused Kara equal parts of
resentment and pride. She couldn’t help but be pleased when Sean brought her a
carousel to wind up. But when the horses whirled and the music began to play,
he promptly carried it back to Wyatt.
The
sound of a key in the back door announced Maria’s arrival seconds before she
burst on the scene.
“Hey,
what’s with the limo in the driveway?” She stopped in the middle of removing
her coat as she caught sight of Wyatt. A look of speculation bounced from Kara
to the visitor. “Well, hi there.” A sly smile curled her lips. “I’m surprised
you’re still here.”
Kara
felt an unaccustomed desire to blush or explain Wyatt’s presence. But she was
the boss, the adult, and the mother, not the employee, the college student, or
the babysitter. And any explanation she could possibly make would only
complicate the situation.
“I’m
here again,” Wyatt explained. “Not still. I left last night and came back
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