Come Fly With Me...: English Girl in New York / Moonlight in Paris

Dan let out a snort. ‘Cranky? You call that cranky? You only had to listen to five minutes of it.’

She bit her lip. ‘Yes, I know. Sorry.’ He could see her take a deep breath. ‘I find this difficult, Dan. And I’m not sure I’ll be much help.’ She stood up and walked over to the window with the baby on her shoulder. ‘I can’t help feeling really sorry for whoever is out there. Why didn’t they think they could take care of their baby? I wish I could help them.’

There it was again. The sympathy vote. The thing he just couldn’t understand.

‘Maybe they don’t want our help. Maybe they just weren’t designed to be a parent. There’s a good chance they didn’t have any prenatal care for the baby. Why on earth would they leave a baby on a doorstep? They didn’t even ring the doorbell! This little guy could have frozen out there—he wasn’t properly dressed or even fed. No diaper. He could have died during delivery. This isn’t a person who wants a baby, Carrie. This is a person who has no sense of duty or responsibility.’

She spun around. ‘You don’t know that, Dan. You don’t know anything. This could be an underage girl’s baby. She might have been terrified to tell anyone she was pregnant—afraid of the repercussions. What if she was abused? What if she lives with her abuser? Have you thought of that?’

He was trying not to get mad. He was trying not to shout. He took a long, slow breath, his eyes lifting to meet hers. ‘It could also be the baby of someone who wasn’t interested in prenatal care. Someone who wasn’t interested in making sure their baby was delivered safely. Someone who doesn’t really care what happens to their baby.’

There was a tremble in her voice. ‘You don’t know that, Dan.’ She looked down at the baby. ‘You don’t know anything. I just can’t imagine what would make someone dump their baby on a doorstep. But I’ve got to believe they were desperate and wanted their baby to get help.’ Her hand stroked the baby’s head. ‘A baby is a precious gift. I don’t know any mother who would give their baby up willingly.’

‘Then I guess our experiences of life are different.’ The words were out before he knew it. No hesitation. No regrets.

Her eyes met his. It was as if she was trying to take stock of what he’d just said. As if she was trying to see inside his head.

He gave himself a shake and walked over next to her. ‘I agree with you, Carrie. I think babies are precious and they should be treated with respect. So I think we should do something.’ He lifted his finger and touched the baby’s cheek.

‘What?’

‘I think we should give our baby a name.’

CHAPTER FIVE

SHE LOOKED STUNNED.

As if he’d just suggested packing up the car and heading off into the sunset with a baby in tow.

‘What? We can’t keep calling him “the little guy”. You know what happens with abandoned babies. At some point somebody, somewhere gives them a name.’

‘But we don’t have any right. This isn’t our baby.’ She gave a little shake as if the thought was too alarming.

‘Actually, right now, he is our baby. And might continue to be so for the next few days. We have to call him something in the meantime. Calling him “baby”, “him” or “it”, it’s just not right. You know it isn’t.’

She’d started pacing now. Walking about the apartment. Her eyes refusing to meet with his. ‘Well, what’s your suggestion, genius? Do you want to call him Dan?’

She was mocking him. For some reason, she was uncomfortable with this.

‘I don’t want to call him Dan. That will just get confusing. I’m trying to make this less confusing, not more.’ He looked at her again; her pacing was slowing. ‘What kind of names do you like?’

‘I’m not naming him.’ The words snapped out of her mouth.

‘Why not?’

‘Because he’s not my baby.’

He shook his head. ‘We know this. That’s not the point. Let’s find something we can agree on. Do you like crazy names like Moonwind or Shooting Star? Do you like modern names, celebrity names or something more traditional?’

Her chin was on the floor. ‘Moonwind? Shooting Star? You’ve got to be kidding?’

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘You forget. I’m a cop in New York. I’ve heard everything.’

‘Wow.’ She sat back down on the sofa and picked up the bottle of milk. ‘I’m going to try and give him a little more of this.’ She watched as his mouth closed around the teat and he started to suck. ‘I guess I like more traditional names,’ she finally said.

‘Plain? Like John or Joe or Bob?’

‘No. They are too plain. Something proud. Something that makes you sit up and take notice.’

‘I thought you’d ruled out Moonwind?’

There was a sparkle in her eyes as she turned to him. ‘How about really traditional? How about something biblical?’

‘Now you’re really testing me. I’ll need to think back to my Sunday school days.’

‘Then you do that. How about Joseph? Or Isaac, or Jeremiah?’

He grabbed the first names that sprang into his mind. ‘Noah, or David, or Goliath?’ he countered. He wanted to make her smile again. And it worked. She was sitting up a little straighter. Trying to beat him at this game.

He could see her start to rack her brains. ‘Peter, Paul or Matthew?’

‘Adam, Moses or Joshua?’

There was silence for a few seconds as they both concentrated hard.

‘Abraham.’

‘Abraham.’

Their voices intermingled. And a smile appeared across both their faces.

Carrie stared down at the baby. ‘Abraham,’ she whispered. ‘Now there’s a proud name. What do you think of that one?’

He sat down next to her. ‘Abraham, I like it. Also the name of one of our finest presidents. It’s perfect.’

‘It does seem perfect.’ She was staring down at the little face as he sucked at the bottle. She nodded. ‘You’re right. We do need to give him a name—even if it’s temporary. What a pity his mum didn’t leave a note with what she’d called him.’ There was a wistfulness in her voice. The sympathy vote that grated on him.

‘Might have been better if she’d actually left some clothes. Or some diapers. Or anything at all to show us she cared about her son.’

Carrie gave the tiniest shake of her head as she eased the bottle out of Abraham’s mouth, then sat him upright, putting her hand under his chin to support his head while she rubbed his back. ‘Let’s see if we can get a burp out of you this time.’

She turned to face him. ‘You’re really hard on people, Dan. And I find it really strange. You didn’t hesitate to try and help this baby. You weren’t even too upset when Shana told you that you’d need to keep him a while. We have no idea what’s happened here. Can you at least try to give his mother the benefit of the doubt?’

‘No.’

Just like that. Blunt and to the point.

Abraham arched his back and let out a big burp. ‘Good boy.’ His head started to sag. ‘He’s tired. Maybe we should put him down to sleep.’

Dan nodded and started folding up the towels he’d pulled from his cupboard, forming a makeshift kind of mattress in the crib. ‘What do you think?’

‘Perfect.’ She had to put him down. She had to put him down now. She was starting to feel a little overwhelmed again. A baby cuddling into the nape of her neck and giving little sighs of comfort was making a whole host of emotions wash over her. None that she wanted to share.

She adjusted Abraham and laid him down in the crib, covering him with the hand-knitted shawl, and held her breath, waiting to see if he would stir.

It took her a few seconds to realise Dan was holding his breath right next to her.

But Abraham was out cold. His first feed had been a success.

‘Darn it. Do you think we should have changed his nappy again?’

Dan raised his eyebrows. ‘I think if you touch Abraham right now and wake him up I will kill you.’

She gave a little laugh. ‘It’s kind of strange, isn’t it? Standing here waiting to see if he’ll wake up again?’

Dan straightened his back. ‘What time is it?’ He looked over at the kitchen clock. ‘Ten-thirty? Wow. No wonder I’m starved. I haven’t eaten dinner. What about you? Are you hungry, Carrie?’

She shook her head. ‘Maybe I should go.’

‘You are joking, right?’

She shook her head firmly. All of a sudden there wasn’t a baby as a barrier between the two of them.

All of sudden there wasn’t a whole lot of space between them. And it was as if a little switch had been flicked.

Everything about Dan was making her feel self-conscious. How was her hair? Was her make-up still in place?

She’d spent the past few months going around in a fog. It had never once crossed her mind how she looked to the opposite sex.

But there was something about Dan. Something about being in close proximity to him that was making her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want to have to think about all those kinds of feelings resurrecting themselves. Not when she knew where they could eventually lead.

Now, she was fixating on his straight white teeth, the little lines of fatigue around his eyes and the sincerity in his face.

Then he snapped her out of it by giving her a cheeky wink and folding his arms across his chest. ‘If I have to arrest you, I will.’

She jolted out of her daze. ‘Arrest me?’

He smiled. ‘To keep you here. To force you to help me look after Abraham overnight. What do I know about a newborn baby?’

‘And what do I know?’ She felt the rage surge inside her along with something else she couldn’t quite work out. ‘Because I’m a woman you think I should know about babies?’

‘No.’ His words were firm and strangely calming. They must have taught him that in cop school. How to calm a raging bull. ‘I think you’re another human being and two heads are better than one.’

It sounded logical. It sounded sensible. And it made all the chauvinistic arguments that had leaped into her head feel pathetic.

She didn’t want to spend the night with a new baby. How on earth would she cope? It could end up bringing back a whole host of memories she didn’t know how to deal with.

Then there was Dan. With his short dark hair and big brown eyes that made her skin itch. No, that made her skin tingle.

Every now and then he flirted with her, as if it was his natural demeanour. Flirting with women was obviously second nature to a guy like him. But it wasn’t second nature for her. And she just didn’t have the defences for it yet. She didn’t want to be drawn in by his twinkling eyes and cheeky grins. She would look like some hapless teenager around him. This was feeling more awkward by the minute.

Carrie walked back over to the window, sneaking a look at Abraham on the way past.

‘How long do you think he’ll sleep?’

She shook her head. ‘Yet another thing I’ll need to look up. Isn’t it usually around four hours for new babies?’

Dan glanced at the clock. ‘So we’ve got until two-thirty.’ He smiled. ‘Do you want the night shift or shall I?’

Carrie hesitated. ‘I’m not sure about this, Dan. I told you I’ve got no experience with babies. How am I supposed to know if something is wrong or not? I can’t read everything you’re supposed to know about babies in a few hours. What if we do something we shouldn’t?’

He lifted his hands. ‘We can only do our best. And anyway, look at you earlier—you were a natural.’

The words sent a chill down her spine. She knew he didn’t mean for that to happen—he probably meant the words as a compliment. But her mind and body just couldn’t react that way.

She was trying to partition this whole experience in her head. Put it inside a little box that could be safely stowed away somewhere.

Somewhere safe.

This was hard. And the reality was, it was only going to get harder. She’d felt herself waver a few moments before when Abraham had snuggled into her neck and she’d caught that distinctive baby scent in her nostrils.

She knew it was time to back off. To give herself a little space. And if she could keep doing that she might actually survive this experience.

And let’s face it. Dan was hardly a strain on the eyes.

Why hadn’t they ever spoken before? Had she really seemed so unapproachable? So caught up in her own world?

She watched as he looked in his cupboards, trying to find something to eat. Eventually he pulled some glasses and a bottle of soda from the cupboard. She could see the taut muscles across his back through his thin T-shirt. She tried not to stare at the outline of his behind in the well-worn jeans.

Her eyes automatically went downwards. Would he look at her the same way? Maybe she should have given some more thought to what she was wearing.

‘I see you’ve finally got some clothes on.’

She gave a little smile as she walked over and sat down at the table. ‘I didn’t really have time to think earlier. I don’t often roam around strange men’s apartments in my nightclothes.’

‘You don’t?’ He had a gleam in his eyes. He was trying to lighten the mood. Ease the stress they were both under. ‘Is your apartment cold upstairs? You were bundled up like you live in an igloo.’

She took a sip of the soda he’d just poured for her. ‘No. It was comfort clothes. I was freezing when I got in—I ruined my suede boots walking in that mucky slush. My raincoat was covered in muddy splatters and all I could think about was getting inside, heating up and eating myself silly.’

He tilted his head as he sat down. In this dim light in the kitchen he had really dark brown eyes. Comforting kind of eyes. The kind you could lose yourself in.

‘And what does eating yourself silly involve?’

She shrugged. ‘Chocolate. In all varieties. Macaroni cheese. Grilled bagels with melted cheese. Porridge. Pancakes.’ She pointed towards the ceiling. ‘I bought some stuff at Mr Meltzer’s before I came home. I was worried I’d be stuck inside for a few days with no comfort foods.’ She gave him a grin and shook her head. ‘Believe me, that would not be pretty.’

He eyed her closely, the smell of pizza starting to fill the apartment. ‘And would you be willing to share some of your stash?’

Her smile widened. The atmosphere was changing between them. They were going from frantic neighbours to something else entirely. Were they flirting here? Was that what was happening? It had been so long for Carrie she wasn’t sure she remembered how.

She rested her elbows on the table, sitting her head in her hands. ‘Oh, I don’t know about sharing. I might be willing to trade.’

‘Aha, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’

‘What does that mean?’

The gleam wasn’t disappearing; in fact, if it was possible, it was getting naughtier. ‘You come down here with your innocent smiles, woolly socks and grandma pyjamas—not forgetting an abandoned baby—with your tales of a huge pirate haul of comfort foods upstairs, and now you’re trying to hold me to ransom.’ He leaned back in his chair and tapped the surface of the table. ‘You’re not really a grandma-pyjamas girl, are you? That was all just a ruse—you’re really a sexy negligee kind of girl.’ He lifted his hand and tapped his chin. ‘The question is, what colour?’

She could feel her cheeks start to pink up. She hadn’t been imagining it. He was flirting with her. And the thing that amazed her—or terrified her—was she wanted to flirt right back. Could she trade her bagels for a kiss?

Wow. That thought made the blood rush into her cheeks. ‘What’s wrong with grandma pyjamas? They hide a multitude of sins.’

He didn’t hesitate. ‘You don’t have any sins to hide.’

She felt her breath stall. She couldn’t breathe in. She definitely couldn’t breathe out. She was stuck in that no man’s land. He’d said it so quickly. He didn’t even have to think about it twice.

What did that mean?

She made a vague attempt to laugh it off—feeling like a nervous teenager instead of a capable twenty-seven-year-old woman. ‘You’re a man. You really have no knowledge of water-filled bras or hold-your-gut-in underwear.’

He leaned across the table towards her. A cheeky smile across his face. ‘And you have no need for either.’

He stayed there. Inches away from her face. Letting her see the tiny, fine laughter lines around his eyes and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks.

Up close and personal Daniel Cooper looked good enough to eat.

And then there was the smell. His cologne. It was affecting her senses. Everything seemed heightened.

Her skin prickled, her hairs standing upright. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue running across her lips.

She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. Or maybe it was his brown eyes. The kind you could melt into. Both were distracting her. Both were making entirely inappropriate thoughts about a man she hardly knew invade her brain and send a warm feeling to her stomach.

A feeling she hadn’t felt since...

It was like a bucket of cold water being tipped over her head. That, and the awareness of the little contented noises from the crib off to the side.

That was why she was here.

Not for any other reason. Dan wasn’t interested in her. Not really. He just didn’t want to be stuck with some strange baby on his own. He’d made that perfectly clear.

The rest?

She hardly knew the guy, and with handsome looks and a job like his? He probably had women eating out of the palm of his hand.

The thought made her pull back in her chair, her sudden movement causing him to blink and a wrinkle to appear on his brow.

She fixed her eyes on the table. They were safe there.

‘Don’t you have a friend you can call to help you with Abraham overnight? I’m sure you must have plenty of female friends who’d be willing to give you a hand.’

‘What does that mean?’

She shrugged, trying to look complacent. Trying to pretend she hadn’t just almost asked him out loud if he had a girlfriend. ‘It means there must be someone other than me who can give you a hand.’

He shook his head. ‘All the female cops I know are currently run off their feet on duty. My friends who are married all stay too far away to get here and help.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And the past few female companions I’ve had—I wouldn’t let within fifty feet of this little guy.’

She almost choked on her soda. ‘Then maybe you should be more selective with your female friends.’ It was meant to sound playful, but it came out like a chastisement. All because her insides were wound up so tightly.

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Maybe I should.’

It was left hanging in the air between them.

She had no idea what to make of that. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. ‘You mean there’s absolutely no one you can ask to help you out?’

‘Just you.’

‘Dan...’ She looked out at the falling snow. If it were even possible, it seemed to be falling even heavier.

She looked around the apartment and threw her hands in the air. ‘I don’t like this, Dan. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. It doesn’t matter that you’re a cop and one of the “good guys”.’ She put her fingers in the air and made the sign. ‘Baby or no baby, I can’t stay in an apartment with some strange guy. I’m just not comfortable.’

He leaned back in his chair, watching her with those intense brown eyes.

‘What if I promise not to come near you at night? You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa. We can move the crib during the night. That way—you’ll still have some privacy but we’ll both know the other is there if we need a hand.’

Her. In a room by herself with Abraham in a crib. She was going to throw up right there and then.

And then Dan did something. He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I need help, Carrie. I need you. Don’t say you can’t do it.’

A lump a mile wide appeared in her throat.

He was leaning towards her in the dim light. Her eyes fixated on his lips. What was wrong with her? And what was wrong with her emotions?

Everything about her wanted to run right now.

But her ethics and her goodwill were making her stay. She couldn’t abandon Abraham right now. His own mother had already done that.

She had been the one to find him. She should be the one responsible for him.

‘I feel really awkward about all this, Dan.’ She sighed.

‘Then let’s see if we can make you feel unawkward.’

‘Is that even a word?’

‘It is now.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘So, Carrie McKenzie, what’s your favourite movie?’

‘What?’ It was so not what she was expecting. She was expecting him to pry. To ask why she’d reacted like that. To ask what had been wrong with her this whole evening.

The question was totally random and took her by surprise. It took a few seconds for her brain to think of an appropriate response. ‘If it’s adults’ it’s Dirty Dancing. If it’s kids’ then definitely Toy Story. What kind of a question is that anyway?’

‘A getting-to-know-you question,’ he said as he took a sip of his soda. Just like that. So matter-of-fact. Boy, this guy didn’t mess around. He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘What? You’ve never been on a date and done the getting-to-know-you questions before?’

She opened her mouth to react, to ask what he meant, then stopped herself dead. He was being casual. He was being cool. And anything she would say right now would be distinctly uncool.

One moment she’d been staring into his eyes wondering what it would be like to kiss him—next they were having a first-date kind of conversation.

She took a deep breath. ‘It’s been a while,’ she said quietly. ‘I guess I’m out of practice.’

‘How long?’

His question was fired back straight away. She could tell a lie here and try and pretend to be blasé. But it just didn’t suit her. ‘About seven years.’ She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. She’d had to think about that. Had it really been that long? She’d dated Mark for five years before she was pregnant with Ruby, and it had been more than a year since then. To Dan’s credit he didn’t even blink, no smart remarks, no more questions. It was as if he just filed the information away for use at a later date.

She shouldn’t have said anything. It was time to move things back to the original question. Get off this subject completely. ‘You do realise I had to leave out the musicals—for obvious reasons.’

The eyebrows lifted even further. ‘What obvious reasons?’

She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t possibly count them. I’ll have you know I know the words to every song of every musical ever made.’ She gave him a cheeky wink. ‘And some of the dance moves.’

He leaned across the table towards her. ‘The thing that scares me about that is—I believe you.’ He kept his eyes fixed on hers. ‘I might ask to see some of those dance moves.’

She gulped. Colour was rushing to her cheeks. She’d been premature with that wink. Trying to appear sassier and way cooler than she actually was. Maybe not her best idea. Especially when she could almost feel the heat radiating from him. It was time to get this back to safer territory. ‘What about you?’ That was easy. That kept everything on an even keel.

‘Definitely The Great Escape, with Steve McQueen on the motorbike. Nothing can beat that.’

She nodded. She’d watched the movie a hundred times—knew some of the lines by heart. ‘And a kids’ movie?’

He had the good grace to look a little bashful. ‘You might be surprised. But I love Finding Nemo. I love Marlin and Dory. It’s one of those movies that you turn the TV on, walk past and find yourself sucked in for two hours. Just like that.’ He snapped his fingers.

She couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on her face. ‘I wouldn’t have taken you for a Finding Nemo kind of guy.’

He took another sip of soda. ‘See? There’s lots you don’t know about me. And vice versa. Are you feeling a little less awkward now.’

She let out a little laugh. ‘Just because I know what films you like doesn’t mean I feel comfortable about staying in your apartment overnight.’

He nodded slowly. ‘So, what brought you to New York, then, Carrie? I know your business owns the apartment upstairs, but why you? Why now?’