Barbara Freethy - Some Kind Of Wonderful Read Free Page A

Caitlyn—an
innocence, maybe—that made him instinctively want to shield her. Heii,
it probably had something to do with all the white lace in the room.

Before he could reply, Caitlyn walked up to him and pushed the baby
against his chest. "Hold her for a second. I want to look through that
bag and see if I can find a bottle or instructions or something."

Before Matt could protest, he found himself wrapping his arms around a
tiny baby who felt so small, so fragile in his arms, he thought he
might break her. And when the baby began to squirm and whimper, Matt
awkwardly shifted his feet and patted her back. He looked to Caitlyn
for relief, but she was still digging through the diaper bag.

"Hey, I could use some help here," he said.

"I found some formula . . . and a bottle," she added triumphantly,
holding it up like a trophy. "A little water, and I think we can make
her a lot happier."

Matt followed her into the adjacent kitchen. No way was she leaving him
alone with the baby. He found her kitchen to be as chaotic as the
living room—cookie jars with faces on them, pasta noodles in colorful
glass containers, magnets of every shape imaginable on the
refrigerator, and a couple of potted plants on the windowsill, some
looking
half dead despite the freshly watered soil. Apparently, Caitlyn didn't
like to throw anything away.

With the clashing bursts of color, the room felt warm and cozy,
inviting. Probably too inviting, Matt decided. Definitely too inviting,
he added silently as Caitlyn came over to him. As she put the bottle
into the baby's mouth, her blond hair drifted against his chest and
arm. She was so close he could smell flowers in her hair and mint in
her breath, then her breasts grazed against his arm as she maneuvered
the bottle in the baby's mouth, and his heart skipped a beat. Her
femininity called out to him like a siren, and he felt his body harden,
a completely unwelcome reaction considering the fact that he was
holding a baby and Caitlyn was a perfect stranger. Perfect being a big
part of the problem.

"Here you go, sweetie," Caitlyn cooed. "Take a sip. There's a good
girl."

"Don't you want to hold her?" Matt asked, feeling more uncomfortable by
the second.

Caitlyn hesitated, then said, "I don't think so."

"'Are you sure you don't know who this baby is?" he asked her again as
they returned to the living room.

"Of course I don't. Why would you ask that?"

"She seems to like you."

"Well, I'm a nice person. Babies can sense goodness."

"Then I must be a nice person, too. She's not crying anymore."

"We'll have to see how she feels about you when she's done sucking on
her bottle," she said with a wry smile. She knelt down on the floor
next to the diaper bag and began searching through it, much the way he
had done a few minutes before.

"There's no note in the bag. 1 already looked," he told her.

After a minute, Caitlyn sat back on her heels and frowned. "What mother
leaves her baby without even
a note?"

Matt pulled the bottle out of the baby's mouth as she stopped sucking
and appeared to be done. "What
do I do with her now?"

"Put her over your shoulder and pat her back until she burps."

"I think you ought to do that."

"Fine. Let me grab her blanket. She might be getting cold." As Caitlyn
pulled the baby blanket from the straps of the car seat, something
fluttered to the ground.

"Oh!" She reached for the piece of paper, then looked into Matt's eyes.
"There is a note."

Matt felt his body tense. "What does it say?" he asked shortly, having
trouble getting the words out of
his mouth. He had a bad feeling about
this—a very bad feeling.

Caitlyn read silentiy, the tension growing with each passing second.

"What the hell does it say?" he demanded.

She looked up at him through troubled eyes. '"Someone named Sarah wants
you to take care of her baby."

"Sarah." He breathed her name like a long-forgotten scent.

"Who is Sarah?"

He stared at Caitlyn, knowing she'd asked him something, but he
couldn't