Page 20 of Silver-Tongued Devil
“No,” Russell told him, a definite snap in his voice. “You won’t head on out. You’ll come on outside with me and have some more iced tea, and then you’ll help me grill that salmon, and you’ll eat it.”
Blake had to blink. Well, that didn’t happen to him every day. He didn’t tend to get ordered around much.
Russell didn’t wait to hear his answer, just fumbled with the closure for the baby gate until Dakota reached down to unfasten it. She drew back, though, at another glare from Russell.
“Andyou,”her stepfather informed her as he stepped out of the room, forcing her to back all the way up, “will dial it right back and behave yourself. Blake’s a guest in my house.”
Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and she looked like she was holding back as many truth-bombs as Blake was, like she had a right, but she didn’t say anything. She turned around and stalked off, and if Blake watched her go despite himself, if he noticed her slim, tanned back in that suit, the length of her legs, and the way the suit was riding up again—well, she was right there, and it was a narrow hallway, and he didn’t have to like her to notice what she looked like. He was an observant guy. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything about it. He didn’t go after other guys’ women, and he sure as hell didn’t go after the mothers of other guys’ children.
She went into a room off the hall, and she didn’t slam the door, but she closed it hard. Russell kept on going until he was in the kitchen again, refilling the glasses from the pitcher without asking Blake if he wanted any.
“Come out on the patio with me,” Russell said. “We’ll get the barbecue going.”
“Sure,” Blake said, since he couldn’t figure out any way to leave without actually being rude.
He carried out Russell’s tea glass while Russell followed with the cedar planks, Bella trotting along behind. Russell set the planks on an old-fashioned picnic table before beginning to fuss around with charcoal briquettes and a Weber grill. “The Mariners are playing in a little bit, if you want to hang around and watch,” he said. “Down in Oakland. If you’re an A’s fan, don’t tell me, or I’ll probably have to kick you out without your salmon.”
Blake smiled despite himself, leaned up against the table, and took a sip of his tea. “Nah. Except in football and basketball, I kind of have to support the Seattle team. It’s a requirement.” Or it had used to be.
“Well, good. They’ll lose, most likely, but that’s the breaks. Got to watch ’em lose if you’re going to watch ’em win. If you’re a fan, you can’t bug out when the going gets tough.”
“That’s the code we like to hear,” Blake agreed. Hang around to watch, though? He was going to be lucky if Dakota didn’t poison his salmon, and he didn’t need to look at her happy little family any more.
The back door opened and the big guy came out, still holding the baby. A girl baby, Blake realized. Before, she’d been wearing a yellow swimsuit with a ruffled bottom, and now, she had on a sort of white cotton sleeper thing with tiny hearts all over it. Definitely a girl. She had fine blonde hair in a cloud around her head, and she was making some noise that wasn’t quite crying while she chewed on her fist.
“Hey, Evan,” Russell said. “How’s my Gracie-girl? Oh, this is Blake.”
Blake shoved himself upright and said, “Blake Orbison,” then realized the guy couldn’t shake hands, because he had the baby in one arm and a bottle in the other hand.
He wasn’t sure Evan would’ve shaken his hand anyway. He got a long, slow, measuring look from the other man before he said “Evan O’Donnell.” Like he knew what Blake had been doing with his girlfriend—or more like what he’d been thinking—which wasn’t uncomfortable much at all. Evan asked Russell, “Could you give Gracie her bottle while I help Dakota put up that storage unit?”
“I’d be glad to give you a hand,” Blake said.
Evan looked at him levelly and said, “Thanks. I think we’ve got it.” Yep, Blake was a popular man around here for sure.
Russell said, “Let me wash my hands first. Give her to Blake in the meantime and go on and help Dakota.”
Blake didn’t think Evan was going to hand the baby over. There was a long silence, then Russell said, “For God’s sake. He’s not going to drop her. You don’t get to play for the NFL if you drop things.”
“Well, to be fair,” Blake said, “quarterbacks mostly throw. But I won’t drop her,” he assured the other man hastily. “I’ve held babies.”
Wait a second. Had he? Probably not. He’d seen other people hold them, though. How hard could it be?
Russell headed back into the house. Evan hesitated again, then handed the baby over, and Blake tucked her into the crook of his arm. Not so different from holding a football, except that she was surprisingly solid for somebody so little. Wriggly, too. He sat down just to be on the safe side, and Evan nodded and went into the house.
The baby squirmed, and he wondered if he was supposed to support her head. He’d read that, but she seemed to be holding it up OK. He put a hand there just in case. She let out a squawk, though, and he took it hastily away.
All right, then. Not. He said “Shh” in a reassuring tone and patted her gingerly on the back. She heaved in a breath, then let out a wail, and he was so startled, he jumped. Then she really set in to scream.
He started to sweat. What was he supposed to do? She was crying like he’d just insulted her pajamas or something, and her face was turning bright red. The only person he got along with in this house, he thought wildly, was Russell.
Wait. The bottle. Babies cried when they were hungry, and the bottle was right there. And her father had said she was hungry. He picked it up, hesitated, then stuck the nipple in her mouth.
That was it. Both her dimpled little hands came up to grab the plastic bottle, she started gulping the milk down as if she’d been moments from starvation, and Blake’s tense muscles relaxed some.
Russell came through the back door fast, took in the sight of him, then hauled his way down the stairs with one hand on the rail, saying, “I thought the neighbors were going to call the cops. How long did that take you to figure out? Guess you’ve never had to feed a baby before.”
“Ah… no,” Blake said. “You could call it a new experience.”
