“Wow, that’s quite a grip you got there, kid.” His smile this time was genuine. “Not sure what kind of sports you like, but you could be a major league pitcher with that grip.” Noah grinned and jiggled his finger, chuckling when Gracie’s crying subsided in favor of a drool-filled smile. “Do you want to be a Cubbie, huh? Your daddy is a die-hard Cubs fan. Yes, he is. And maybe someday, when you grow up, they’ll let girls play in MLB, because that would be awesome. Yes, it would. Gracie could walk onto Wrigley Field and own the place. Yes, she could.”
Gracie cooed and squeaked as if that sounded like a fabulous idea to her.
Without thinking, Noah scooped her up onto his forearm, using the football-type hold Serena had shown him earlier, and put the baby over his shoulder, still talking to her and patting her back like he’d been doing this for a million years and not just a day or two.
“How about we go see Mommy and see what she’s up to in there, yeah? See if she’s any less cranky than she was before. Cause your mommy can be a real ball-bust—” He turned the knob and shouldered his way into the bathroom, only to stop short at the sight of Serena naked and chest deep in a bubble bath. All he managed to get out was, “Uh, I, uh…”
Serena slowly opened her eyes and looked at him, her skin looking pink and dewy and infinitely touchable and Noah swallowed hard. Mind on the task, man.
“What?” was all she said, though it sounded throatier than before. Or maybe that was his imagination, falling over the cliff into erotic territory. “Looks like you got Gracie handled.”
“Huh?” he said, taking a moment to remember that he still had his daughter in his arms. The tiny thing weighed next to nothing and it seemed she’d fallen asleep again, curling up against him with her face buried in the base of his neck, her breath warming his skin. Something in his chest expanded, filling a hole inside him he never knew he had until that moment. He blinked down at Serena, doing his best to clear his head. “Yeah. She woke up when you came in here. I’m not sure I’m doing this right.”
“She looks pretty satisfied to me.” Serena gave him a look that under different circumstances—such as circumstances where he didn’t have his daughter in his arms—would’ve gotten his motor running just fine. “You do seem to have the right touch.”
And now all Noah could think about was touching and satisfaction, both things that were completely inappropriate with a baby in the room. He took a deep breath then held up a finger. “Be right back.”
He went back out into the room and gently laid Gracie back down on the bed, thankfully without waking her, before heading back into the bathroom. Serena was still watching him with a half-lidded gaze rife with possibilities and he stalked over to the tub and bent to kiss her deep and hard and long before either of them thought better of it.
When he pulled back slightly, they were both out of breath and flushed. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier. I shouldn’t have jumped all over you like that.”
She gave him a little nod and smile. “And I’m sorry for getting ahead of things again. I’ll try to do better at that from now on. If you’ll give me another chance.”
Serena ran a finger down his cheek and jaw to the pulse point at the base of his neck where his heart was hammering fast.
“Oh, I’ll give you another chance, all right.” He started to tug his T-shirt off over his head. “In fact, if you make room, I might join you in—”
Noah had his shirt half off when Gracie started fussing again in the bedroom. Serena started to get out of the tub, but he held up a hand to stop her, smoothing his shirt back into place with the other. “No. You stay and relax. I’ll get her again. We’ll continue this another time.”
9
The next morning they were up early and on the move again. Noah had taken the first shift with Gracie and Serena had to admit he was great with the baby. No matter how he might protest otherwise.
Trekking through the rainforest seemed to be getting a little easier today. Or maybe she was just adjusting to the humid climate and the rough, uneven terrain. Or it could be the fact that without Gracie’s weight pressing down on her swollen breasts for hours at a time, Serena could actually breathe, not to mention move so much better. Not that she didn’t love caring for her daughter. It was just nice having another set of hands to help.
A couple of hours had passed and the sun was nearing its zenith when Noah stopped abruptly in front of her and held out a hand for her to halt. He gave her a look over his shoulder that screamed “silence” and her eyes widened. Somewhere through the trees, twigs snapped and rustling sounded.
Someone was coming their way.
Pulse tripping, she clung to Noah’s wrist, throat dry and stomach knotted.
A man emerged through the forest. Maybe fifty, dressed in camo, a hat obscuring his eyes, grey stubble on his craggy jaw. He stopped a few feet away from them and raised a hand, speaking to them in Spanish. “Hello. You folks out for a walk today?”
“Maybe,” Noah said, also in Spanish, his posture stiff as steel. “Why do you care?”
“Not saying I do,” the man said, leaning slightly to see Serena. “Just asking.”
“Well, mind your own business.” Noah took her wrist and pulled her along behind him as they gave the man a wide berth, his attention never once deviating from the stranger.
The man continued tracking them, his outer appearance relaxed, even as an underlying current of menace radiated from him. That walking stick in his hand looked to Serena like it could be used as a formidable weapon. She wanted to reach around and grab her daughter from the carrier strapped to Noah’s chest, but knew the baby would be far safer with him than her if they had to make a run for it.
They’d almost made it away from the guy when suddenly he was there, right behind Serena, trying to grab her and wrestle her to the ground. She fought hard, kicking and screaming and clawing at the man with her nails, while Noah tried to help her and keep Gracie safe at the same time.
Serena called on all her kickboxing skills and managed to land a hard punch to the guy’s temple, followed by a kick to the gut. Her assailant stumbled back, tripping over a tree root and landing on his ass. She sprang up and charged, hitting and kicking the man until he was down for the count. Then she picked up his walking stick and held the point to his neck until Noah managed to safely transfer Gracie to her, then took over restraining and questioning their prisoner.
He used his booted foot instead of the stick to put pressure on the guy’s windpipe, but it was just as effective. While she took the baby several feet away, he growled down at the stranger, “Who the fuck sent you?”
“Who the fuck do you think?” the man wheezed, clutching Noah’s heavy boot and having no luck dislodging it from his neck. “They want the girl and they’re willing to pay.”