Cowboy in Charge Read Online Free PDF Page A

cheek against his shirt.
    No way. He knew the game she wanted to play, and he didn’t have the right equipment.
    Reluctantly, he left the room and headed down the hall.
    By now, he expected to see Layne coming to meet him, but there was no sign of her. He frowned. Considering what he’d heard about most new mothers, she would have to be comatose not to respond to her baby’s screams.
    He hovered in the doorway of her room. When he’d announced he was staying, he had expected a scream from her, too, or at least a healthy protest. Her sighing acceptance and quick disappearance into her room after she’d put the kids to bed surprised him. They were also sure signs of how sick she must feel.
    Her bedside clock read 2:38 a.m.
    He hated having to wake her, but he had a hunch the baby’s screams had halted only temporarily, and when they started up again, he would be in a worse predicament than he was now.
    “Layne?” he said from the doorway.
    She didn’t move.
    “Hey, Layne. The baby’s hungry.” And needing a change, judging by the warm weight of the pajama-clad bottom against his palm.
    No sign of movement across the room. He went to the bed, then rested his hand on her shoulder and shook gently. “Hey, babe... Layne . Hey, Layne, wake up.” Was that the sound of desperation in his voice? Over the suddenly renewed screams from the infant, he couldn’t tell.
    Now she stirred, rolling over onto her back. The pink sleep T-shirt she’d worn to bed twisted across her chest, leaving the deep neckline askew and barely covering her. He averted his gaze and tried to soothe the squirming baby, who had begun wriggling and twisting against his chest.
    In desperation, he clicked on the bedside lamp. “Layne, wake up.”
    She blinked a few times. Squinting in the light, she shifted to a seated position and leaned against the headboard. She reached up to take the baby from him. “Oh-h-h,” she cooed to the child, “somebody needs a change.”
    Her voice was low and sleep-sexy and made him think of things he needed, too. Another list of thoughts that were best forgotten. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
    She didn’t answer immediately, and he knew she didn’t want to tell him the truth. “Awful,” she said finally. She gestured toward the dresser. “Can you toss me that baby blanket, please? And there’s a diaper bag on the shelf just inside the closet.”
    He handed her the lightweight blanket and found the bag.
    “Normally,” she murmured, her attention fixed on the baby, “I’m up and out of bed the second Jill lets out a cry. And now I didn’t even hear her wake up.”
    “You’ve got reason.”
    Still looking away, she nodded. “I have to admit, I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here. Thank you.”
    “No problem.” But there was a problem. What good was gratitude if she gave it grudgingly? If she couldn’t even look him in the face?
    She finished diapering Jill and cuddled the baby to her. In a low voice, she asked, “Why are you here?”
    And there was another problem.
    He had been about to lean against the edge of the dresser. Her question made him freeze. He still couldn’t tell her the complete truth—not without the risk of having her kick him out again.
    He told her a half-truth instead. “I wanted to see how things are going with you.”
    “Why?”
    He shrugged. “Why not? We’d been together for—”
    “Jason,” she said quietly, “please don’t try that one on me.”
    “All right, then. I wanted to see my son.”
    “ My son,” she corrected. “For all the contact you’ve had with him, you could have been a sperm donor.”
    * * *
    J ASON STOOD IN the doorway of the kids’ room and watched his son rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Sitting in the middle of the double mattress, he looked so young and innocent. So small. Almost as small as the stuffed teddy bear and dilapidated panda taking up space on either side of him.
    A minute ago, he had heard Scott