Assumed Identity(11)
Hell. What was he doing, thinking he was attracted to Robin Carter, anyway? Jake rolled the baseball bat in his grip down at his side. He didn’t need the complication of a woman in his messed-up life. And he sure as hell didn’t need a baby. Still, he had to admire the lungs on the kid. Seemed about as headstrong as her mother. “Is she okay? Can she hurt herself crying like that?”
“No. Eventually, she’ll cry herself back to sleep. But it breaks your heart to listen to it, doesn’t it?” Robin started pacing back and forth, trying to quiet the baby without success. From what little he knew about kids, mostly from the son of a former coworker who sometimes came to the bar to visit her uncle—the bar’s owner—Jake thought they picked up on the mood of the people around them. And right now, Mama here was in desperate panic mode. “Mommy was so scared, sweetie. Are you all right? The man didn’t hurt you, did he? I’m not leaving you again. It’s going to be okay. Mommy loves you.” If anything, the kid wailed louder. “I can’t seem to...” When Robin turned her pleading eyes to him, Jake realized just how tiny that baby was. Only a few months old. It didn’t even look big enough to crawl yet. “Will you stay with us until the police come, Mr. Lonergan?”
Not one damsel in distress, but two. He was toast. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
“Thank you.” She extended her hand, expecting the civility of formal gratitude. Instead of shaking hands, though, she grabbed his wrist and bent his arm across his stomach. And then she was pushing the baby into his chest. “Do you mind? Make sure you support her neck.”
“Mind what...? Oh, whoa. Hey...”
“Keep her face covered. I don’t want her to get any wetter than she already is.”
With careful, slow-motion control, she shrugged out of her backpack while Jake stood there in shock, afraid to move. And his nightmares were the only thing that ever scared him. “Lady, I don’t think you want to—”
“Here’s a dry blanket. Relatively dry, anyway.” Robin draped the square of cotton flannel, dotted with pink animals, over his arm and the infant, tucking the ends securely around her. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s pink cheek before draping the last corner over the baby’s face. “Got her?”
Did he have a choice?
“I need to call the police.” Robin pulled her cell phone out of the same bag and hooked the flowered backpack over her uninjured arm. “Do you think it’s okay if we go back inside the shop? I want to get her out of the rain.”
She wanted him to move with the baby? The little thing stretched out, nestled her butt in his palm and turned her face into his chest as if she was settling in for the night. Hell, the thing was so tiny, he barely felt the weight of her lying across his arm. What if he stumbled? Or squeezed his big hand too hard? He was armed and dangerous, for Pete’s sake. “Lady—”
“Robin.” She’d already punched in the number and lifted the phone to her ear. “Call me Robin. And this is Emma.” She touched the infant again and nodded toward the green-and-white awning with the Robin’s Nest Floral Shop logo painted on it. “I must have wrenched my shoulder. I’d feel better if you carried her. Come on.”
Okay. Fine. If Robin was hurt, he could carry the baby. Carefully watching the infant in his left arm, Jake tucked the bat beneath his right elbow and nudged Robin into step ahead of him. “Let’s get you both inside.”
In just a couple of minutes, all the lights were blazing inside Robin’s shop and office, and Jake was more uncomfortable than before, if possible. He’d set the bat behind her office door and was pacing back and forth, from door to barred alley window, waiting for Robin to finish her conversation with the KCPD dispatcher and rescue the baby from him. Emma Carter was just so small and fragile, and he was so big and rough around the edges. He didn’t think it was a far-fetched possibility that he might accidentally snap the soft little thing in two.
Subduing a creep beating up a woman in a back alley, he could handle. But holding a tiny baby? Making civil conversation? Worrying about the stiff way Robin Carter was carrying herself? Trying not to peek while she tucked in her torn blouse and refastened her belt and jeans? Not his best thing.
Making the decision to trust him had sprung from the necessity of the situation. But the unfamiliar expectations that trust engendered made him a little nervous. As soon as she was done making her report, Jake intended to have her lock the door behind him and leave.