Asking for Trouble by Jannine Gallant Read Free Book Online Page B

scrambled.”
    “Sure.” She spun around on the chair and eyed him soberly. “Your nephew seems to be one hundred percent this morning, so you don’t have to worry about a concussion anymore. I gave him a bath and put a new bandage on the cut. He’s good to go.”
    His jaw sagged. “You did all that and fed him breakfast during the half-hour I was gone?”
    “It was forty minutes, and I’m a model of efficiency.” Her smile was fleeting. “I take care of kids for a living, so I may be a little faster at it than you are.”
    “I haven’t attempted a bath, yet.” He grinned as he set the bag down on the counter. “Hot damn. Now I can put it off for a couple more days.”
    “Glad to perk up your morning. And speaking of perk, where do you hide the coffee? I looked everywhere but under the bathroom sink.”
    “I ran out a few days ago.” Rummaging through the groceries, he pulled out a package and waved it. “I did remember to buy more.”
    “Thank God.” Leaving Jackson with his Cheerios, she snatched the bag from his hand and headed straight to the coffee maker. “You cook the bacon, and I’ll make the coffee.”
    “Team work.” He lifted one long, auburn curl as she passed and gave it a tug. “We always did work well together.”
    “That’s because you’re not the kind of guy who thinks he always knows best.” Running water into the pot, she glanced at him and smiled. “One of your more admirable traits.”
    “I have a few.” Slitting open the package of bacon, he laid slices in the frying pan. Moments later, a sizzle and hiss filled the air with an aroma that made his stomach growl.
    When the coffee maker gurgled and sputtered, spitting out a few final drops, Miranda poured two mugs of coffee and stirred sugar into one. “Here you go.”
    He took it from her, their fingers brushing. A tingle shot through the hand he made an effort to steady before he sipped the hot brew. “Perfect. Sweet, but not overly so. Like you.”
    She laughed. “Thanks, I think.” After pulling a bowl out of the cupboard, she cracked eggs into it and beat them with a fork. Turning to reach for the salt and pepper, she pointed at the pan. “That bacon looks done.”
    He jerked and slopped coffee. “Crap, I forgot what I was doing.”
    Setting down the cup, he grabbed a pair of tongs from a drawer, turned off the burner and lifted the dripping strips out onto a paper towel. Crispy verging on burnt. Completely Miranda’s fault. He’d been mesmerized by the sway of her breasts beneath the thin cotton shirt as she whipped the eggs…
    “I’ll cook these if you’ll take Jackson out of the highchair. He’s starting to fuss.”
    “He is?” Spinning on his boot heel, he studied his nephew, noting the downward tilt to his lips. “Is that the key, figuring out what he wants before he throws a fit?”
    She shot him an approving look. “Bingo.”
    “So, all I have to do is learn to read minds.”
    “Observation and common sense works, too.” Her voice held a hint of amusement.
    Lifting the baby, he glanced around, feeling more than a little stupid. “What do I do with him?”
    Miranda poured beaten eggs into the frying pan, stirred, then dropped slices of bread into the toaster. “If you’d been stuck in a high chair for twenty minutes, what would you want?”
    “Freedom.”
    “Exactly.”
    “So, I should just let him crawl around?”
    “Why not? But keep an eye on him. You haven’t exactly baby proofed this place.”
    Jackson took off at a fast crawl the second his knees hit the floor, paused beside a Cheerio he’d dropped and stuck it in his mouth. When he headed in Tucker’s direction with a determined look in his eyes, the dog heaved himself off the floor and trotted out the door, tail tucked and toenails clicking.
    “Tucker doesn’t know what to do with babies, either.”
    “That’s because he’s old and set in his ways. You don’t have the same excuse.” She spooned fluffy eggs onto two plates