Love on the Outskirts of Town Page 21

  “Teresa, this is Matt, he’s going to hang out with us while you bring your baby into the world, how does that sound?”

  “Intense,” the mom-to-be groaned, and Matt chuckled.

  “It’s even more intense because we’ve got a wide-eyed student along with us tonight,” he said as gently as possible.

  The mom laughed weakly, and it turned into a groan as her next contraction took hold. Her husband knelt behind her and she pressed herself back, then sagged at the end of the contraction.

  “It’s burning,” she groaned, her face contorted.

  Kerry shifted to between the birthing woman’s legs and nodded. “Baby’s crowning. Okay, Matt, we’re doing this. You’re going to observe for vitals once we deliver baby onto mom’s chest. There’s a stack of receiving blankets there.”

  He knelt down and waited through two more contractions as Teresa bore down and Kerry gave her instructions. Slow, good, easy, breathe.

  Then with a gasp, Kerry had a wet, squirming bundle in her hands, and before the baby was even set on his mother’s chest, he was crying.

  “It’s a boy,” the brand new father said, looking over his wife’s shoulder.

  “And he’s got a healthy set of lungs on him.” Matt covered the baby with a receiving blanket, cocooning him against the warmth of his mother’s bare chest. He quickly took a listen to the baby’s heart rate. Well over a hundred beats per minute, nice and healthy. The pale blue tinge to his skin was fading fast, and then gone as he yelled lustily. Angry little alien, Matt thought with a grin.

  He looked at Kerry, who was cleaning up and replacing the oversized blue disposable pads under the new mom. “Are we clamping the cord?”

  She glanced at her watch. “Sixty more seconds.”

  From the kitchen, they heard the front door open and close.

  “Hello,” called Jenna.

  “In here.” Matt glanced up as his sister-in-law walked in. “Surprise.”

  She winked at him and turned her attention to her partner. “Sorry I missed the excitement, Teresa, but I see you were in good hands.”

  He gave her a quick report, then she took over, clamping the cord before the new dad did the cutting honours.

  Matt retreated to the kitchen, where he found Will and Marco. Will handed him the computer to document what he did, then they quietly headed into the night.

  “That was wild,” Marco said, shifting restlessly in the jump seat. “I know Will said we didn’t need to take her to the hospital, but…”

  Matt snapped his head up. “But, what?”

  “I mean…” Marco’s words faded. “Nothing.”

  “Nah, spit it out.”

  Will cleared his throat in a warning that Matt knew he should heed. There was just something about this kid that rubbed him the wrong way. Too cocky, maybe.

  Matt let out a slow breath. “What’s your question?”

  Marco, to his credit, lifted his gaze and looked Matt right in the eye. “Doesn’t that baby need to be in the hospital for a day or two?”

  “Nope. You know the elements of an APGAR score, right?”

  Marco searched his memory and came up with most of the points. Matt added the one about heart rate, then explained how that was an important immediate metric. “The midwives will stay for a few hours, make sure baby nurses well, then tuck everyone in for some much-needed rest.”

  “Do you know all of this because you’re related to the hot one?”

  Jesus fucking Christ. “Excuse me?”

  “What? We’re all guys here.”

  “We’re all professionals here,” Matt snapped. “And so are both of those midwives.”

  “Okay,” Will said from the driver’s seat. “Changing the subject because Matt is right, but it’s also been a long evening… Marco, what are some other situations where we might be called in to a delivery?”

  The student sputtered, then spit out a couple of other scenarios.

  “Yeah,” Will said. “One of my first ride-a-longs was a spontaneous delivery in a car on the side of the road. Compared to that, a home birth with two midwives is pretty well managed.”

  “I guess. But when my girlfriend wants to have babies, I’d rather we do it in a hospital.”

  Spoken like almost every other medical professional Matt had ever known.

  He’d never given it any thought himself. For one thing, he’d never thought about having kids. And if he had gone there in his head, it wouldn’t have been his body, so he’d probably have said whatever his partner wanted.

  Now he found himself wanting to know Natasha’s birth story with Emily.

  That surprising little thought carried him the rest of the way through his shift and all the way to bed, where he racked out hard.

  When he woke up at dawn, there was a text message waiting for him from Owen.

  Owen: Give me a call when you’ve got some time to chat. Asking as a friend.

  A meddlesome friend.

  Matt was off work for a couple of days. Whatever it was, it could wait. He didn’t feel like being jacked up for telling someone off for being a bonehead.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emily was happy to pack a bag and go and see her Daddy, which made the drive to Collingwood easier—although the lonely drive back was still difficult for Natasha.

  She stopped in Owen Sound and picked up paint on sale. Then she went to the liquor store and bought a decent bottle of wine and a small bottle of gin. At the grocery store she picked up pancake mix and maple syrup, as well as limes and tonic water.

  Everything she needed to seduce the pants off Matt and then feed him in the morning.

  She got home by the early afternoon, fully prepared to spend the next few hours painting by her lonesome, but when she pulled onto her street, she saw a familiar pickup truck parked outside her house.

  Matt was waiting on the front step, bundled up in a winter coat.

  She didn’t grab her groceries, or the paint, or even say anything to him. She just launched herself into his arms.

  “Hey,” he whispered into her hair. “What’s this all about?”

  “Big feelings,” she finally said, dragging in a breath. “Hi.”

  “Ah.” He hugged her tighter. “Hi. And I’m sorry.”

  “Emily was totally fine being dropped off. It’s a good thing. In theory. In reality, I’m a nervous wreck. And kind of grumpy.”

  “Is this the first time he’s ever had her overnight?”

  She nodded. “I know, that’s insane, but he’s never been interested before.”

  Matt shook his head. “I’m sorry. Well, I’m here to help you paint. I’ll go out and grab dinner for us later.”

  “I bought pancake stuff. I mean, I got it for breakfast tomorrow, but we could have them for dinner.”

  He grinned down at her. “Emily’s away, so I can stick around for pancakes in the morning?”

  “I was hoping you might.”

  He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against hers. “Yeah,” he rumbled. “I’m here until she gets back tomorrow. Or whenever you kick me out.”

  She kissed him back, hungry for his warmth and softness and strength. Especially for that strength, because she was perilously close to crying over Emily and David and life.

  “We could continue this inside…”

  “Right.” She took a deep breath. “Oh, groceries.”

  He helped her carry everything in, then shrugged out of his coat. Under it, he was wearing a buttoned-down plaid shirt, which he quickly took off as well, leaving himself in a snug white t-shirt that looked pristine and definitely not painting appropriate.

  Of course, if he took that off as well, they’d never get to the painting. And she was still worked up over Emily being away, which wasn’t fair to Matt. When they got to that, she wanted to give him her full attention.

  “Pretty nice shirt to paint in,” she murmured.

  “Pretty nice woman to invite me over for painting foreplay. I had to dress appropr
iately.”

  She laughed despite herself. “Painting foreplay?”

  “Oh yeah. Remember when you asked me about my A-game? This move is currently theoretical, but I’m looking forward to putting it into action.” He gave her a careful look. “Do you want to hear my hypothesis?”

  “As a fellow player, I really should know about this. For science.”

  He grinned. “Flirting science.”

  “Tell me, sexy professor. What is your hypothesis?”

  “I think that there’s something deeply rewarding about repairing, building, restoring. Moving you into this place last weekend—that was special. Helping you paint, helping you build…whatever you need. I want to do that, too.”

  Wow. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She bit her lower lip and gave him a small smile.

  “And then I want to take you to bed, and work out the frustration we’ll surely build up in the close proximity while we’re working together.”

  That was more like what she’d expected. She nodded. “That’s a pretty solid hypothesis.”

  “Shall we move into the research trial part of the study?”

  She laughed again and swayed against him. “Definitely.”

  His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her into his rock hard body. “Unless you want to cut straight to the more direct method of stress relief.”

  That was very tempting. But she had some restless energy to burn off in a productive way first. “Honestly, first I want to paint a bit and be grumpy.”

  “That sounds like so much fun,” he deadpanned.

  “Right?” She blinked innocently.

  “Fine. Put me to work. What are we painting first?”

  Her goal had been to get a coat of primer on one of the apartments, but it turned out Matt knew more than a little about painting, and in two hours, they’d done both apartments. He was quick and confident in his movements, and had a system down pat.

  After they moved all the supplies back to her side of the house, he asked if she wanted to keep painting in there. “Might as well get as much work done as we can, right?”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. Do you want to break for dinner first?”

  They decided it would be easier to go out—and eat on a real table—so they went to the pub for hamburgers, and while they ate, she thought about what she wanted to tackle next.

  David had accepted that she’d drive Emily one direction, but he might get suspicious if she refused to have him come to her place again. “I think I want to paint the entranceway tonight,” she said slowly. “Get that looking somewhat decent.”

  “We’ll make it shine.” Matt grinned. He didn’t ask her why, and she didn’t confess her worry about looking bad in her ex’s eyes. That seemed like an unnecessary downer on an unexpectedly lovely afternoon.

  After she texted David for an update, and Emily called to say goodnight, they got back to work. They zipped through applying the primer, and after a quick drink break—where Tasha learned that Matt liked wine a lot more than he liked rye—they returned to put the first coat of colour on the walls.

  “You have a lot of experience with painting,” she said, watching him effortlessly roll the longest wall in smooth strokes.

  As soon as she said it, she regretted it, because the experience probably came from helping Jake and his construction business.

  Matt finished his roll down the wall, then gave her a slow, careful look. “Yep.”

  She sighed. It was a stupid thing to worry about. “With Jake?”

  “Yep.”

  “I shouldn’t still feel awkward about that, should I?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know how much should applies to feelings. They are what they are.”

  Heat bloomed in her chest. “That’s probably true.”

  “Do you want to talk about him?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No.”

  “Do you mind if I talk about him?” Like it was no big deal.

  And the way he asked it, maybe it wasn’t. “Sure.”

  He went back to rolling the wall as he talked. “My brother is an idiot.”

  “That’s a great start to the sharing,” she murmured under her breath as she picked up the putty knife to fill in the nicks and screw holes in the wall.

  “He was born a grown-up. When I was younger, I thought both Jake and Dean were like that, but in the last couple of years, Dean’s chafed at the responsibilities of being the oldest. But Jake…he loves that shit. He loves being a dad, and a husband, and a business owner. And it’s all so wholesome. Which makes him an idiot, in some respects, because he doesn’t value any other framework for happiness. So, he would have never been a good fit for you, regardless of external influences.”

  “That’s…very logical.”

  “Since he’s my brother, the clearer we all are that your history was an always-doomed, never-a-big-deal thing, the better. He was never going to be the guy for you. Me, on the other hand…”

  She grinned. “Yes, you.”

  “I think I’m a very good fit for you.”

  She agreed wholeheartedly. “We do seem to have quite the connection.”

  Tasha gave up her attempts to patch. She sat down on the step stool and looked over at Matt. It was easy to miss that he was more than a pretty face, because he was so extraordinarily good-looking. And yet behind the perfect face and the remarkable height and the tightest, sexiest rear-end she’d ever seen was a sharp mind with a keen insight into the world around him.

  “What do you think of me?” she said abruptly.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I think you’re incredible.”

  Damn, Skippy. “That’s not what I mean,” she whispered, but her body was already heating up.

  He put more paint on his roller. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re spot-on with your assessment of your brother and why he wouldn’t have been a good fit for me. I bet you’ve got assessments of everyone you know.”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  “So what’s your assessment of me?”

  “You’re different. I don’t think about you like that.” But he rolled a little faster. She watched the muscles in his arms flex and roll as he covered her hallway in an even coat of paint.

  How do you think about me?

  She picked up the sandpaper and went back over the far wall.

  The next thing she knew, Matt was behind her with the paint brush. “Time to cut in this wall,” he said softly.

  “I can do that.” She reached for the brush, and he handed it over, but he didn’t pull his hand back. He let her cover his fingers with her own, wrap her hand around his, and pull him close.

  She pushed up on her toes and pressed her mouth against his, kissing him softly at first, then harder.

  “You’re different,” he said roughly when they broke apart. “I have all sorts of complicated thoughts about you, and I’ll share them if you really want to know. But most of them circle around the notion of wanting more of you, more of this, more of Emily. More than maybe you can give.”

  “I’m getting there.” She kissed his jaw. They could get there right now, right here on the floor of the hallway surrounded by wet paint.

  “I mean it when I say want to take you to bed tonight, Tasha. I want to show you how I feel, what I think, in the best way I know how. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, and what it means.”

  She blinked up at him, surprised at the rough tenderness in his voice, even after all they’d said and done. Of course she’d been thinking it too, but hearing Matt say it—and like that. I want to take you to bed.

  It was almost old-fashioned. Definitely sweet.

  I want to make love to you. He didn’t need to say it for her to know that’s what he meant.

  “I could take you here,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m down for whatever. But I’m not in a hurry, because we have all night. And I want to take you to bed, t
o stretch you out and have you make all sorts of noise.”

  Sweet in a dirty kind of way. She wobbled her head in a distracted nod. “I want that very much, too.”

  “So let’s finish painting this hall,” he said with a growl. “You cut this in, I’ll roll it, and then you can warm up the shower while I put a quick second coat on everywhere.”

  “Let’s do that together,” she whispered. Let’s do it all together. I’ve never had anything like this before, and I don’t want to miss a single second of it.

  “Deal.”

  Except it wasn’t easy. With the promise of taking their relationship to the next level—the naked bodies, blissful orgasms, emotional connection level—she was having trouble concentrating on getting their work done.

  Luckily Matt was a consummate professional. And before she knew it, he was almost done, so she started to gather everything they’d need for the world’s fastest clean-up.

  “There. Done.” He was grinning as he turned toward her. “I could use a—”

  She held out the plastic grocery bag she’d already grabbed for the roller. “Here.”

  There was no way that wrapping up a paint roller should be sexy, but Matt made it work. From the snap of his wrist as he puffed out the bag to the obscene way he smoothed his hand down the suddenly phallic length of the roller, Tasha could hardly stand how good he looked tidying up.

  And he knew it.

  His grin got more wicked, ever bolder, as he carefully set the roller in the middle of the drop cloth, and knelt beside the paint tray.

  “Do you want to open the can for me?”

  Was that a euphemism for take off her shirt? Because yes she did.

  “Tasha?” The flash of white teeth as he laughed with her was just the icing on the perfect sexy boyfriend cake. “I’m serious. We need to put the paint away.”

  “Yep.” She grabbed the can and set it between them on the drop cloth. “I’m with you.”

  “Am I distracting you somehow?”

  “You know you are.” She popped the lid of the can and took a deep breath. “And I’m enjoying it, I promise.”

  “I’ve never seduced a woman while painting before.”