Charming Hannah Read online

  “How is work today?”

  “Busy. There was a home break in last night, and a car accident this morning, with one fatality.”

  Her arm squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. So, I’ll be busy this afternoon.”

  “What do you have planned for this evening?” she asks.

  “I’m open.”

  “Good. I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

  “We’ve discussed this. I buy dinner.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’d like to go out for dinner.”

  “Done.”

  “You’re difficult.”

  “You just told me yesterday that I’m easy going and steady.”

  “Until you’re difficult.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~Hannah~

  I’VE CLEANED THE HOUSE. Sadie and I walked to town to get my car.

  I even cooked dinner.

  Brad should be home any minute, and I feel about as domestic as I ever have in my life. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I feel good about it, but it’s new. Should I be wearing an apron? Should I be naked except for the apron?

  That would make him smile.

  But then dinner would go cold because I’m quite sure he’d fuck me against the kitchen counter. I’d be disappointed if he didn’t.

  So I’ll keep my clothes on for now.

  Also, why am I overthinking this? It’s dinner. And by dinner, I mean chicken enchiladas that I slapped together because like I told him last night, I’m not a great cook.

  It’s not a big deal.

  The door to the garage opens, and Brad comes in, smiling, carrying a baby carrier.

  I do a double take, and then frown.

  “I knew it.”

  “What?” He sets the carrier on the table and begins pulling blankets off of it, unearthing an adorable, dark-haired baby girl.

  “I told Grace that I was sure that you had a secret baby somewhere.”

  He just laughs and shakes his head as he pulls the baby into his arms and turns to face me. His eyes are soft, almost dewy, as he looks down at the little one. “She isn’t mine.”

  “That’s a relief. And she isn’t mine because I definitely haven’t had a baby. So whose is she?”

  “My detective’s little girl. Her name is Megan.” He smiles at her and she reaches for Brad’s nose.

  “She’s cute.” I cross my arms over my chest, keeping a safe distance between me and them. “Why is she with you?”

  “Her daddy wanted to take his wife out for dinner, but the babysitter cancelled, so I volunteered to take her.”

  “It’s like I don’t even know you,” I reply and laugh. “This might be the very last thing I would expect.”

  “She loves me,” he says in defense. “Look.”

  At that moment, Megan stretches her arms out to me, whimpering.

  “Or, she’s trying to escape.”

  “You can take her,” he suggests, and I freeze.

  “That’s okay.”

  “She’s asking for you.”

  I walk to the oven and open it, retrieving the enchiladas. “I’m finishing dinner,” I reply, not making eye contact. “And I’m not good with babies.”

  “Why?”

  “Why am I not good with babies?” I turn and stare at him. Megan smiles, a toothless smile and then sticks her fist in her mouth.

  “Yeah. I mean look at her.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  Brad’s phone rings in his pocket, and when he checks the caller ID, he frowns and holds the baby out to me. “Please take her, I have to take this call.”

  He plants Megan in my arms and walks into his office, shuts the door, and I’m left with a baby.

  “How old are you, Megan?” I ask, holding her stiffly. She’s watching my face, and then her own face crumples and she starts to fuss. “Oh no. Don’t do that.” I hold her closer to me and sway back and forth, hoping I’m doing this right. “You don’t have to cry. See? It’s okay.”

  I’m swaying and patting her back, and Megan lays her little head on my shoulder, quiet now.

  Thank goodness.

  With the baby on my arm, I do my best to cover the enchiladas with foil and set them back in the oven on warm. They’ll keep for a while.

  Five minutes later, Brad comes out of the office, looking preoccupied.

  “Sorry about that,” he says and stops short when he sees me. “Well, look at you.”

  “I admit, she’s pretty cute.” I’m still swaying her back and forth, and she’s tucked her little face in my neck. “Is she sleeping?”

  “No, she’s just hanging out.” He grins and walks to us, pats Megan on the back, and then kisses me softly. “You look beautiful.”

  “Barefoot in the kitchen with a baby on my hip?”

  “No, just beautiful,” he says, then snorts out a laugh. “But that’s quite the description.”

  “I am barefoot,” I point out.

  “But not pregnant, so there’s that.”

  “Never,” I reply, shaking my head emphatically. Megan lifts her head and looks me square in the eyes. “But you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

  She smiles widely.

  “One day, you’ll get some teeth. And then, look out, because everything is delicious.”

  She giggles.

  “That’s right. All of the food is delicious.”

  “Speaking of food,” Brad says, pulling a bottle out of a bag. He pours some formula in it, mixes it with water, and then passes it to me. “She’s probably hungry.”

  “You feed her.”

  He just smiles and shakes his head no. I roll my eyes, take the bottle, and settle into his rocking recliner.

  “I don’t know if I’m doing this right?”

  “Haven’t you ever been around kids?” he asks as he watches me settle her against me and offer her the bottle, which she greedily takes, holding my hand and watching me with sleepy brown eyes.

  “Not really.” He passes me a rag so I can wipe up the drip on her chin. “I didn’t have siblings, and I didn’t babysit. I’ve never really felt like I’m a maternal person.”

  She starts to cough, choking a bit, and I immediately put the bottle down, and pull her forward, helping her airway to clear. I wipe her chin again, then settle her in to eat some more.

  “Yeah, not maternal at all,” he says. He’s smiling when I look up at him. “I wouldn’t have known how to do that.”

  “I’m a doctor,” I remind him. “And she wasn’t choking badly.”

  I run my fingers over her soft, fine hair and her eyes flutter closed. “She’s so soft. How old is she?”

  “About five months,” he replies quietly, petting Sadie.

  When Megan has drunk the rest of her bottle, I settle her against my shoulder to burp her. “I think I saw this in a movie.”

  “You’re doing great. Also, you deliver babies.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t hold them?”

  “I pull them out and hand them to their mom or a nurse, and then I go about the task of making sure Mom doesn’t die.”

  “That’s important,” he says, nodding. “I had no idea that babies make you nervous.”

  “Well, I’m not as nervous as I was when you first arrived. Thank goodness she’s not your secret baby.”

  “I couldn’t have a secret baby in this town.”

  We both laugh. “True. There aren’t many secrets around here.”

  “She’s asleep,” he says and drags his fingertip down her cheek. “She’s a sweetie.”

  “I’m surprised she’s not more fussy. You always hear of them crying all the time unless they’re asleep. That doesn’t sound fun. I always wonder, why would anyone willingly put themselves through that?”

  “Is that why you don’t want kids?” he asks.

  I pause, thinking about it. This baby is definitely adorable. She’s small, fitting against my chest perfectly, and she smel
ls so good. I could bury my nose in her and stay there all day.

  “I mean, she’s going to wake up, right?”

  “If all goes well, yes,” he says, laughing again.

  “And she’ll cry. And probably need a lot of attention.”

  “She’s an infant, so I’d say that’s a safe assumption.”

  I nod, still thinking it over. “I guess that doesn’t sound too bad. But I know without a doubt that I don’t want to be pregnant. It goes back to me knowing too much. Most pregnancies are normal, but I see way too many that aren’t. It’s not something I’ve felt the need to experience for myself.”

  “Interesting,” he says, sitting back on the sofa and watching me. “I guess I’d never really thought about that.”

  “You’re a man. You don’t have to worry about the changes to your body, or how well your body will even deal with being pregnant. And that’s only the beginning. There can be so many different complications, diseases, disorders, and problems that it would take a month to list them all.”

  “And you’d worry the entire time.”

  “Every minute of it,” I confirm. “And I know, it sounds—”

  “Don’t say dumb. You’re not dumb, Hannah.”

  “Well, it sounds dumb to me,” I reply with a shrug. “But it is what it is.”

  I pull the sleeping baby off of my chest and into my arms, so I can see her sweet face. Her lips are pursed, as if she’s sucking on a nipple in her dream. “Her eyelashes are long. They’re always wasted on babies and men.”

  “She looks like her mom,” he says, just as there’s a knock on the door. “Speaking of which, there they are.”

  “So soon?”

  He tosses me a wide smile and answers the door. “She’s sleeping.”

  “Oh, good,” Dan says as they come inside. His wife, whom I immediately recognize, rushes over to check on her.

  “Dr. Malone,” she says with a happy smile. “What a surprise.”

  “Hi Alice,” I reply and nod to Dan. “I didn’t realize this little bundle belonged to you.”

  “You mean you didn’t recognize her?” Dan asks with a smile.

  “She was a little smaller and a lot bluer that day,” I reply and smile kindly at Alice. “She’s beautiful and healthy, and I’m so happy for you.”

  “She’s here because of you,” Alice says with tears in her eyes and wraps her arms around both of us, hugging us. “You saved us.”

  “That’s the job,” I say and pass the baby to her mama. “And I have to tell you, this might be the first time I’ve spent time with a baby that I delivered. It was fun. I had no idea this tiny baby was that Megan.”

  “Well, thanks to both of you for taking her so we could have an uninterrupted dinner out,” Dan says, shaking Brad’s hand. “It was nice.”

  “My pleasure,” Brad says. He runs out to the garage to get the car seat base, and when they’ve left with the baby, he turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know that you were the doctor who delivered her.”

  “I was.”

  “That was a shit show.”

  “It was.” I nod, not allowed to talk freely with Brad about the medical history. “But as you can see, it all worked out.”

  He frowns and looks down, and then without looking me in the eyes, he just pulls me in and hugs me tightly.

  “Dan would have lost both of them if it hadn’t been for you, and I just want to say thank you for saving them both. Dan’s a good friend.”

  “It’s the job,” I repeat, but hug him back fiercely. “And I’m happy that it all worked out for the best.”

  He kisses me head, breathing me in.

  “Me too.”

  ***

  My car smells like heaven the next morning.

  The aroma of coffee and donuts fills the space around me, and I want to just pull over and eat and drink it all myself.

  That’s not possible, but it doesn’t make me want it any less.

  I park in front of the police station and carry four dozen donuts and a gallon of hot coffee inside, then I run back out for the special individual coffee for Brad. As I walk back inside, Brad is approaching the desk with the donuts, where at least six other men are already loading up on sugar and caffeine.

  “This one is for you,” I say and hand him the cup. “The lady at Sips said this is what you usually order.”

  His eyes intently watch me as he takes a sip. “She was right. What’s all this?”

  “Well, I know it’s a cliché, but I thought everyone might enjoy some coffee and donuts.”

  “You thought right,” Dan says with a grin. Several other uniformed officers nod in agreement. “And these are the best donuts in town.”

  “I know.” I reach out and snatch up a maple bar. “So good.”

  “Come into my office,” Brad says, but I shake my head no.

  “I have errands.”

  “Do you have two minutes?” he asks. The look on his face says he needs to talk to me, so I nod and follow him into his office, munching on my donut.

  “What’s up?”

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he sweeps me up into a passionate kiss. He doesn’t even care that I have maple glaze on my lips.

  “You’re sweet,” he murmurs against me.

  “It’s the donut.”

  He grins and kisses me one more time, then sets me away from him. “No, it’s you. You didn’t have to do that for my guys.”

  “I know. It was fun.” I smile and take another bite of my donut. “I might as well take advantage of this whole week off thing and spoil us all a little bit.”

  “Don’t spoil them too much. They’ll get soft.”

  “Yes, sir.” I offer him a mock salute and open the office door. “I’m going to get a massage now.”

  “Good for you. And then?”

  “I think I’ll wander around downtown and look for a birthday gift for my cousin, Abby.”

  “Have a good day, sweetheart.”

  I smile and close his door behind me, waving to the guys who are smiling at me as I walk past.

  I’ve made some friends this morning.

  ***

  I’m loading up on way too much huckleberry stuff. Syrup, jam, pancake mix, even chocolate. I can’t help myself. I’ve turned into a tourist in my own damn town.

  I’ve wandered my way through just about every shop on Main Street in downtown Cunningham Falls. Not only did I find the cutest outfit and pair of earrings for Abby, but I found all of this huckleberry stuff, a painting for the living room of my house, and I might have splurged on ice cream.

  Okay, I totally did.

  I feel fantastic after my massage. It’s a warm eighty degrees outside, perfect for roaming around without getting too hot, and it’s the middle of a weekday so the tourists aren’t as obnoxious as they would be on a Saturday.

  Just as I’m about to walk into Dress It Up, I hear my name being called from across the street.

  “Hannah!”

  “Hey,” I reply, happy to see my friend and patient, Jillian King, as she pushes her stroller across the street to join me. She has her twins with her, and her face is glowing with happiness as she joins me. “How are you?”

  “I’m great,” she says, panting a bit. “I took the afternoon off to take the kids to the park. It’s too pretty out to waste it.”

  “I agree.” I kneel in front of the stroller and smile at the little girl and little boy who stare back at me with curiosity. “Hello there, Sarah and Miles.”

  They grin and Miles offers me a high five.

  “They’re adorable,” I say as I stand to talk to Jillian. “I can’t believe how big they are.”

  “They’ll be three soon,” she says, sighing. “And I’m going to have to come see you soon as well.”

  “Check up?”

  She shakes her head no and gives me a happy smile. “We’re expecting.”

  “I think at least eighty percent of the people I know are pregnant,” I reply with
a laugh. “Congratulations.”

  “What are the odds that it’s twins again?” she asks nervously.

  “Not high,” I assure her. “Even though your husband is a twin, the odds are low.”

  “Thank God. I love these two, but they’re a handful. Having just one infant will be a walk in the park.”

  “That’s the way to look at it. How is Cara?”

  Cara and Jillian are best friends, and each married twin brothers a few years ago. They live out at the King brothers’ ranch, in separate homes, of course. The Kings own thousands of acres just west of town.

  “She’s great. I think she and Josh are finished having babies. Two are enough for them.”

  “Well, I’d love to see you all soon,” I reply. “And I’ll look for you on my schedule.”

  “Thanks,” she says with a smile. “And now we’re off to the park.”

  She walks away, in the direction of the city park down the street, and I walk into Dress It Up to see if I can find something new. I’ve shopped like a pro today, I might as well keep it going.

  “Hannah,” Willa says with a smile. “It’s nice to see you. Can I help you find anything?”

  “I’m just out shopping today,” I reply. “I know I said this the other night, but I have to say it again. This store is so pretty.”

  “I know. My inner girlie girl went crazy when we were decorating. And I just can’t be sorry.”

  “You shouldn’t be. It makes me want to buy pretty things, and I would think that was the intention.”

  “Absolutely, and it’s good to hear that it worked,” she says, nodding. “Plus, when you’re a single mother of a little boy, it’s nice to be around girlie things sometimes.”

  “I’m sure. You have a son?”

  “I do. He’s eight.” She reaches behind the glass display case that she uses for the cash register and grabs her phone, pulling up a photo. “Alexander, but we call him Alex for short.”

  A brunette boy with dimples and a mischievous grin stares back at me. “He’s a cutie.”

  “He’s a terror,” she corrects me and tucks her phone away. “But he’s eight, and he’s a boy, so I’m told that being a terror is normal.”

  “I think so.”

  “So, you’re dating Brad?” she asks without apology. Her chin is up, her eyes on mine, and I respect her even more. She’s not trying to gossip, she’s asking for information.