Did she mind? Part of her yelled, “Hell, yes!” But there was an entreaty in his voice, a loneliness that struck her to her core. Did that explain the shadows in his eyes? The lines drawn on his handsome face?
“No, I don’t mind at all,” she said as smoothly as she could. “I’m sorry, about this. Riley’s a bit out of his usual routine for some reason. Maybe he’s heading for another growth spurt.”
“Riley? That’s his name?”
She must be hearing things. Was that wistfulness in Sam Thornton’s voice?
“Sure is,” she replied, swiftly covering up as Riley disengaged from her and turned to give a milky smile to the newcomer. “Riley James Connell, at your service.”
“May I hold him?”
Erin couldn’t quite disguise her shock. He wanted to hold Riley? In her experience, most men ran a mile from kids at this age, preferring them when they were older, toilet trained and at least partly able to conduct a conversation. “Most men” being her late husband, that is.
“Sure, I’ll just need to burp him first,” she said, fixing her clothing with one hand and propping Riley upright on her lap with the other.
“I can do that,” Sam said.
“You’ve done it before?” she asked in surprise.
“No, but how hard can it be?”
The man didn’t know what he was in for. “He still sometimes spits up a bit when he burps.”
“So put a towel on my shoulder,” Sam said nonchalantly. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”
Erin nodded and rose, getting a small towel from a kitchen drawer and giving it to him. He laid it over his shoulder and then held his hands out for Riley, who happily went into the arms of the stranger.
She was unable to tear her gaze from her baby in this man’s embrace. “He’ll be more comfortable if you hold him like so.” She guided one of Sam’s arms under Riley’s diapered bottom. “And if you rub his back with your other hand, holding him against you.”
Sam did as she suggested. It looked wrong, and yet right at the same time, and it reminded her that Riley had missed out on a lot of male contact with his father gone. But should he be getting that contact with Sam Thornton? She didn’t even know the man, yet somehow she instinctively felt she could trust him. When Riley belched, Sam’s face took on a look of pride that made her laugh out loud. You’d have thought it was Sam himself who’d created the hearty sound.
“Wow, the boy can burp,” he said, still gently rubbing the baby’s back.
“And that’s not all,” Erin said, a smile still wreathing her face. “You should see what he does at the other end.”
A look of horror passed over Sam’s features. “I can just imagine. Here, do you want him back?”
“No, I’ll finish getting our meal together. You can put him back in his rocker if you don’t want to keep holding him.”
“Is it safe?” Sam said, looking at the rocker.
“Sure, and it’s a huge help. Short of having him strapped to me during his waking hours, it’s a great way for him to be a bit independent of me and still see what I’m doing around the place.”
“It’s okay,” he said, “I’ll hold him until we’re ready to eat.”
Erin grabbed a second place setting and laid the kitchen table for the two of them. Even with Riley there, it felt strangely intimate to be laying the table for two. The last time she’d done this it had been several months ago, while James was still well enough to leave his bed and come to the kitchen. She pushed the memories aside. She didn’t want to go there right now. She had more than enough to think about.
* * *
Sam held the tiny body in his arms and fought to swallow past the lump in his throat. As hard as it was to believe, he could actually be holding his son. Every instinct in his body wanted to hold this child to him and protect him from the ravages of the world, but he had no right to do that until he knew for certain that Riley was his.
He watched Erin as she competently moved through the kitchen, transforming a bare table to a convivial setting with effortless ease. The aroma of the dish she’d removed from the oven to stand on a trivet on the table spoke volumes to her ability as a cook. Even now, his mouth was watering. It all seemed to come so easily to her and reminded him uncomfortably of how natural she’d been with Riley when he’d entered the kitchen, following the sounds of the baby’s cries.
Seeing the baby at her breast had brought home a whole new range of emotions. Erin offered sustenance to her son from her own body. It was perfectly natural, and yet he’d never even stopped to think about the baby’s level of dependence upon her as his mother. He wondered if Laura would have been the same—if she’d have nursed their child. They’d never even taken their discussions that far. Instead, their focus had just been on the business of getting pregnant. That focus had been consuming to the point of excluding almost everything else.