Free The Baby Bond by Linda Goodnight

plopped down with him on the small couch, propping his feet on the ottoman. If she was toostubborn to get some sleep, at least he could give her some respite from Alex. The baby couldn’t help having a bellyache and being confused with all the changes in his life.
    With Alex over his shoulder, he patted and talked, the way he had done with his gaggle of nieces and nephews. Uncle Nic had been the favored babysitter. Well, maybe not by his siblings, but definitely by the kids. Even when they were infants like Alex, he’d enjoyed them, knowing when the going got rough, he could hand them back to their mothers.
    He made up silly songs in the baby’s ear, singing low and soft as he patted. Cassidy looked at him from beneath drooping eyelids and smiled. “That one didn’t rhyme.”
    “What are you talking about? I won a third grade poetry contest. I am a master at the rhyming couplet. Convertible and Corvette in the same poem would make the Bard green with envy.”
    She laughed softly. A pretty sound. Had he heard her laugh before? If he had, he must not have been paying close attention.
    He was paying attention now.
     
    The last thing Cassidy remembered was thinking how cute Nic was and how delirious she must be to allow a firefighter—especially this one—in her apartment.
    Slowly returning to consciousness, she adjusted the angle of her neck. A crick was in the making. She’d fallen asleep sitting up in a chair, listening to Nic Carano sing to Alex.
    Nic Carano. Oh my goodness.
    Her eyes popped open.
    The darkly handsome firefighter no longer occupied the couch across from her. She glanced around the dimly lit room. Someone had turned off all the lights except for a small reading lamp.
    “Nic?” she whispered. “Nic?”
    Fear stood her on her feet. Nic was gone. So was Alex.
    Hurrying now, she rushed into the nursery and nearly collapsed with relief. The baby lay in a hump, knees drawn up and tiny backside in the air, a blanket covering him. His back rose and fell in restful slumber.
    Tiptoeing, afraid of waking him, she went through the apartment to check the door locks and then to make sure the smoke detectors were functioning. Finding all secure, she looked out into the parking lot. Nic’s truck was gone. A car slid past on the street below, its lights washing the concrete in pale yellow before disappearing.
    According to the artsy clock above her sofa Cassidy had slept several hours. Her alarm would go off soon.
    Amazing. How had she slept so soundly while sitting up in a chair? She hadn’t even heard Nic leave.
    Heading toward the shower, Cassidy rubbed both hands over her groggy face.
    She’d fallen asleep with a man in her apartment—a playboy firefighter, of all people—and Alex in pain. What kind of mother was she?
     
    Guilt-ridden, Cassidy spent too much of the following workday telephoning the day care and researching four-month-old babies on the Internet. Then she made a long list of parenting dos and don’ts and scheduled an appointment with a pediatrician. Even though Alex had been thoroughly examined before dismissal from the hospital, Cassidy figured another exam was in order. This time she knew what questions to ask.
    On her lunch break, which she had never taken before the baby came into her life, she drove to Bo-peep day care and played with Alex.
    Her boss frowned when she walked in after an hour’sabsence. “I need those mock-ups today, Cassidy. We have a production meeting with Carters at two and the design team meets after that.”
    “Right.” She was a perfectionist in her job. Shane knew that. “I’ll get it done.” Somehow.
    While Nic was comforting Alex last night, she should have whipped out the laptop and gotten busy on this project. But what had she done? She’d fallen asleep.
    Since the fire, her creativity had gone flat. She was going through the motions, plugging in clichéd ideas that would get her nowhere. The company expected original, top-notch work from her.