Page 35 of Tumbleweed Temptation
Lord. She’d never held a baby this small before. She unbuckled the little girl and gently lifted the strap over her head. The infant was so small she curled in on herself, like she was still sharing the womb with her brother. Ginny slipped her hand behind the baby’s head and back and cradled Emily against her. The baby protested a little, but then settled against Ginny’s shoulder.
She turned to see Austin behind her, his hand hovering, but then he saw Emily nestled against her bare shoulder, and he smiled.
“You got it?”
“I got it.” But she let him take her arm to walk her through the mud up to the house, since she wanted both hands to keep the baby secure.
Once she was up the steps, Marianne reached to take the baby from her so she and Austin could move to the front of the room to be with their friends, standing as witnesses. Austin grinned across at her, his eyes...well. She’d read enough cliches in the romances she edited so that all of them ran through her head, and yet none of them were accurate enough to describe how he was looking at her. Hungrily, heatedly, longingly, some of each of those, but with an appreciative warmth. She stopped herself from responding in just as cliched a way, not smoothing her hands down her skirt, not tossing her hair—because she wore it up with Poppy’s flowers tucked around her bun. But she offered him a smile, because he looked pretty good, too, in jeans but with a button shirt, tie and jacket. He usually wore a button shirt in the office, with the sleeves rolled up, but for some reason today the look affected her differently.
As the pastor spoke, Ginny turned her attention to the couple marrying each other, and yes, she felt a tug of envy to have someone do something like this for her. But just a little tug.
And yet...her gaze drifted to Austin, and while he was smiling at the couple holding hands, his eyes shifted to her, and the smile shifted.
When Beck and Lacey walked back down the aisle, Austin approached her.
“You look really nice.”
She lifted the sides of her skirt daintily in her fingers and dipped in a mock curtsy. “Thank you.”
“I don't think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.”
He had, but she didn't want to mention that it had been at his mom’s funeral. “It’s been a really long time. I didn’t even own one until this.”
“Shame,” he said. “You did a pretty good job with little Emily.”
“Who? Oh, the baby. Yeah, that was terrifying. I held her before but I was sitting down and Lacey put her in my lap.” Ginny turned to find Marianne, who had passed the baby over to Mr. Davila as they stood for pictures in front of the fireplace. “Before that, I’d never held a baby.”
“Never?”
“Well, no, I was an only child, and Patrick didn't exactly hang out with new moms. Lacey’s my first friend to become a mom. Where would I have held a baby?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I just, I guess I expected women to have more experience.”
Before she could offer a snarky comeback, Marianne was calling them over to be in the picture with Lacey and Beck.
Javi, Sofia, Poppy, Con, Austin. All survivors. Ginny hesitated. She didn't belong in this picture, but if she vocalized why, she’d bring down the mood of the party. But when she hesitated, Austin looped his arm around her shoulders and brought her in among them.
Survivors.
Friends.
When she looked at him, he grinned down at her. “I think I heard you’re in charge of cutting the cake.”
The party didn't last long, and Ginny, Poppy, Sofia and Marianne made a point of sticking around until everything was cleaned up and put away so the newlyweds could enjoy their home. Honestly, Ginny thought the place still a little lacking in amenities, but Lacey seemed happy enough, so who was Ginny to judge?
They hugged their friends as they left and headed out to their cars.
Ginny was surprised to see Austin and Javi sitting on the steps, and both men stood when the women walked out.
“Ladies. You ready to go yet?”
“Why were you waiting on us? And drinking beer and not doing anything?”
Austin raised his hands in front of him, one finger looped around the neck of a beer bottle. “We put up the lights for Beck.” He pointed to the porch lights behind them.
“You put in lightbulbs,” Sofia said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“We put up the lights.” Beck motioned to the stepladder and the cordless drill near the door.
