Kate Little – Jingle Bell Baby (страница 8)

Clint shook his head and tossed his hands up in the air. “I can take her right now, you know. I don’t exactly need your permission,” he reminded her. “And besides, you lied to me last night, Jessie.”

Jessie stared at him and bit down on her lower lip. The way he’d said her name, as if they’d know each other for years, instead of hours, momentarily distracted her, his deep voice like rough velvet sweeping across her senses.

“Yes, that’s true,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I did that. I apologize. It’s not normally, well, something I do. But I thought I could handle her.” Jessie looked down at Daisy, who was contentedly fingering a strand of her hair. “And I guess I just couldn’t resist trying.”

Clint drew in a deep breath. He was standing quite close to her, so close that she had to tip her head back to see his face. She was distracted by his nearness, yet didn’t feel she wanted to—or was even able to—step away. His expression was unreadable; his well-formed mouth pursed in a frown.

“All right,” he said finally. His voice was so low and deep, she’d hardly heard him. “I’ll show you what to do. But if it doesn’t work out, no arguments. Promise?”

“I promise,” Jessie agreed eagerly. She could feel herself smiling so widely, it practically hurt. “I’ll be good at this. You’ll see.”

The only thing he could see at that moment was a beautiful, warmhearted woman whose dejected expression had suddenly turned to pure joy. And now all that radiant loveliness was aimed right at him, shining just for him, and he felt as if he’d been hit by a zillion watts of sunshine. And appropriately enough, he thought wryly, he was melting at her feet, like a lump of something soft and sticky.

“Let’s get started,” he said gruffly. “I don’t have a lot of time for this today.” Although in truth, his shift didn’t start until the evening.

He collected the bags of supplies he’d abruptly dropped in the hallway and carried them into Jessie’s kitchen. Carrying Daisy, Jessie followed.

The first task on the agenda, Clint determined, was giving Daisy a bath. While providing a running, instructional commentary, he efficiently cleaned Jessie’s kitchen sink and countertop. Then he set up the counter with a fresh towel and washcloth, bottles of baby shampoo, skin lotion and other essentials.

The tub was filled with lukewarm water and Daisy was gently submerged. Daisy looked too adorable for words in her bath, Jessie thought. She gazed up curiously at Clint and didn’t even cry when he washed her hair.

“Some people like to rinse the baby’s hair with a football hold,” he told Jessie. At this point she knew that meant securing the baby under one arm, running-back style. “I prefer rinsing with a cup with one hand and shielding her eyes and ears with the other.” He gently spread his big hand over Daisy’s forehead as he rinsed the soap from her hair with a cup of warm water.

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